One or the Other by John McFetridge Page B

investigation.”
    â€œThey asked us?”
    Carpentier stood up from his desk. “Captain Allard and I know each other, he used to work here. He asked me to take it.” He picked up his empty mug. “Would you like a coffee?”
    â€œNo, thanks.”
    â€œI’ll coordinate the investigation.”
    Dougherty said, “And I’ll work it?”
    â€œWith Sergeant Legault, yes.” Carpentier walked back to his desk and sat down.
    â€œWhat about the Brink’s squad?”
    â€œAfter last night, and Levine still in the hospital,” Carpentier said, “they’re not sure how it will continue.”
    Dougherty said, “I heard Ste. Marie and Laperrière were talking to the chief.”
    â€œThe squad may be reduced. Would you rather go back to uniform at Station Ten?”
    â€œNo, I’d like to work this,” Dougherty said.
    â€œGood. There’s not much information yet, two teenagers went to a concert at —” he checked his notes “— Place des Nations, and then never returned home. Now the bodies have been found.”
    â€œSo, they went into the river somewhere.”
    â€œSergeant Legault has been working it as a missing persons, now it’s homicide.”
    â€œThe autopsy’s been done?”
    â€œIt will be a homicide,” Carpentier said. “Go and see Captain Allard this afternoon. Three o’clock.”
----
    Driving over the Jacques Cartier Bridge, Dougherty was thinking he was pleased to be working a homicide even if the circumstances weren’t ideal. He drove off the bridge past the only tall building, the Holiday Inn by the Métro station, and then through the old Longueuil downtown. Some of the buildings were over a hundred years old, and Dougherty had some memory from high school about Fort Longueuil being built in the late 1600s and occupied by American troops during their revolutionary war.
    The police station was a modern two-storey building. Dougherty went in and asked the desk sergeant for Captain Allard and then said, “
Il m’attend.
”
    The desk sergeant looked like he didn’t believe it, but he picked up the phone and grunted a few words and then said, “Upstairs, down the hall.”
    A receptionist stood up from behind a little desk outside the captain’s office as Dougherty approached and spoke French, saying, “Hello, Detective, would you like anything? A cup of coffee or tea?”
    Dougherty said, “No, thank you,” and he was surprised she’d called him detective. He figured Carpentier must have referred to him by that rank so he wasn’t about to correct anyone.
    â€œAll right, you may go in.”
    Dougherty thanked her and walked into Captain Allard’s office.
    â€œDetective Dougherty, I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding us.”
    â€œNo,” Dougherty said, surprised Allard was speaking English and not sure if he was making a joke or not. “I lived in Greenfield Park for a while, my parents still do.”
    â€œOh well, Greenfield Park is not Longueuil, but it’s close.”
    The captain seemed to be smiling a little, and Dougherty figured he was joking. Ingratiating a little, like a politician, which wasn’t surprising — Dougherty figured it took a little politics to become a captain.
    Then Allard stopped smiling and said, “I’m glad É tienne will be coordinating this investigation, very unpleasant business,” and it took a moment for Dougherty to realize that É tienne was Carpentier’s first name.
    He said, “Yes, very unpleasant.”
    â€œWhen Manon Houle’s body was found, we were hoping it was not a homicide.”
    â€œYou weren’t sure?”
    â€œI suppose we still aren’t sure,” Allard said. He picked up a file on his desk and held it out for Dougherty. “The autopsy report.”
    The phone rang, and Allard picked up the receiver as