The End of the Line by Stephen Legault Page A

work in the unheated room, Durrant had grown increasingly cold, and so it was with some relief that he stepped back out into the midday sun, faint as it was. Durrant leaned back against the door of the shed and let his eyes adjust to the blinding glare on the mountains of snow all around.
    Durrant could hear men’s voices raised somewhere in discussion, and then a staccato burst of laughter. He could hear the sound of wood being chopped and a fiddle being played. The Mountie made his way along the path back to the station, and entering the building, knocked on Wilcox’s door.
    â€œCome,” he heard the man say.
    Durrant opened the door. The heat of the room was quite welcome after nearly two hours in the cold shack.
    â€œSergeant, you’re done?” Wilcox stood up from his desk. Durrant could see a ledger open on the table, and next to it a plate of food left uneaten. Wilcox held a quill in his hand.
    â€œJust getting started, Mr. Wilcox.”
    â€œOf course. I meant with the body.”
    Durrant stepped into the man’s office. “I have a couple of things I need from you, Mr. Wilcox. First off, keys. I need a key to the various storerooms and warehouses. I don’t want to trouble you or any of the foremen for a key when I want to look around.”
    â€œIt really won’t be any trouble . . .”
    â€œJust the same, I’d like my own keys, sir, and the key for Mr. Penner’s bunk. I’ll need to look around there, on my own.”
    â€œThat’s no trouble,” said Wilcox, his fingers drumming on the table.
    â€œGood. Next, tell me this. If a man or men went missing from the camp, if they didn’t show up for work one morning, would you be told?”
    â€œI imagine. The foreman in charge would likely bring it to my attention. After he tried to locate the man, I suppose.”
    â€œYou mean, check his bunk to see if the man was sleeping off a drunk?”
    Wilcox drew a sharp breath. “More likely down with the flu, but yes, after he’d checked his bunk, or the mess . . . What are you asking?”
    â€œHas anybody been reported missing since the death of Deek Penner?”
    â€œYou’re wondering if the killer has left the camp already. I can check with my men. I haven’t heard of anybody leaving.”
    â€œHow often do the trains come and go?”
    â€œOnce every day or two, but with all the snow, we’ve had just a few in the last week. One went as far as Padmore a couple of days ago.”
    â€œDoctor Armatage mentioned an injury at Banff Station?”
    â€œYes, I believe he was on that one. We needed to do a supply run. Stocks were running low. But that train left the day Mr. Penner was killed. Your murderer could not have used it to escape this camp. We were starting to make arrangements to haul provisions in from Banff with horse and sled, but the weather let up and we were able to . . .”
    Durrant interrupted him. “Could a man leave on foot?”
    Wilcox’s face betrayed his dislike of being interrogated. “He could. But if your killer did, we wouldn’t need to have this discussion. The only road we keep clear is the one to the Kicking Horse Pass, which is getting more and more traffic with the coming of the spring construction season. It would take a hardy soul to set off on foot for Banff Station right now. The mainline would see a man through, but it’s a long walk.”
    â€œYou’ll let me know what your foremen say about men gone missing?” Durrant asked. He was looking out the window. “I suppose I should head up to the Kicking Horse Pass in the coming days to talk with anyone who is there now but was here on the day and night that Mr. Penner was killed. Will you be able to provide me with a list of such men?
    â€œI don’t think there will be many. Deek didn’t have much to do with the men up at the Pass as yet. We haven’t