The Malice Effect

1

He had chosen his spot carefully. It was both isolated and beautiful. Variegated foliage banked the ravine, which fell steeply to a stony bottom. He stared out across the hood of the car at the yawning gap before him and became aware that his body was once again betraying him. His temples throbbed and he had an acute stabbing pain somewhere behind his left eye. As his stomach tightened into knots, he consciously fought for mental and physical control, drawing in deep breaths to slow his metabolism. He resisted the temptation to gun the car engine and plunge them both down the embankment. That would solve nothing. Someone had to pay.

Beside him, she sat very still, scarcely breathing, staring out at the wooded wonderland before them. Sunlight glittered on droplets of water captured on leafy surfaces during the recent rain shower. They looked like diamonds. It was nature at its most dazzling. She was awed into silence and felt the contrast of her surroundings—exquisite beauty in the midst of angst. The air was still electric between them, vibrating with raw emotion.

He was badly shaken. He had tried to reason with her; had met with her for that express purpose, but she had refused to listen. He had bared his soul and pleaded with her, but she was intransigent, argumentative and, worse, critical of him and her words cut deep. No one had the right to talk to him like that. Who did she think she was? He wouldn’t stand for it. It was time to put an end to this.

He drew a shuddering breath. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself as weak, disempowered, undignified. It was all wrong. He had to regain control. Slowly and deliberately, he concentrated on his breathing. In: two, three, four. Out: two, three, four. Then dispassionately, as if from afar, he assessed his body. He was much too stressed. His hands were clenched on the steering wheel in white-knuckled tension. Flexing his fingers one by one, he loosened his grip and placed his hands onto his thighs. Then he rolled his head from side to side and tightened and relaxed his muscles until his shoulders settled into a more comfortable position. Slowly and surely the blood began to flow normally through his body and the throbbing eased in his temples. He exhaled with a deep, heartfelt sigh.

Beside him, she was rousing from her torpor and beginning to move. He watched as she retrieved her handbag from the floor and pulled back on the door handle to exit. She turned as the door opened, and swung her feet over towards the ground. She made no apology. Just ignored him.

Her motions infuriated him. They were so dismissive, so arrogant, and so typical. Cut and run. That was her to a T. His eyes glittered with rage which flared up from nowhere, filling him with impassioned energy. He flipped open the console between them and his searching fingers closed on the cold steel concealed inside. He moved fast and seizing her by her left shoulder, he pinned her sideways in her seat. Then, before she could think, turn or talk, he sank the knife in deeply, right to the hilt. The angle was perfect. There was no impediment. She gasped and gurgled as her upper body lurched forward and crashed into the door. Her head smacked on the window with a satisfying thwack, and his whole body went limp with release.

He breathed out deeply. It was done. Good. He pulled her fully back into the car and shoved her face onto her knees. Her breath sounds were laboured and rasping. She wouldn’t last long now. He stepped out of the car and removed his overcoat and then, leaning in through the passenger door, he adjusted her seat, repositioned her in it, and took the time to carefully drape his coat over her, tucking it in closely around her body. He left his knife in place. It sealed the wound beautifully and would make cleanup easier. He backed out of the car, and walked around it to check the sightlines from all angles. Everything was in order. She would not be visible to passing vehicles, even truckers. The tinted windows would help with that.

Now what? He moved back to the driver’s seat and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Okay, Ms. High-and-Mighty, what shall I do with you now? he mused, taking some time to consider his options. At least now the hard part was over. He turned the key in the ignition and gunned the engine back to life. The familiar throb of the motor felt oddly reassuring. He was back in control and he felt buoyant, better than he had for months. And beside him, she exhaled for the very last time.

2

Gina Bender stepped out onto her deck, coffee cup in hand, and perched on her railing. It was a glorious morning. The mist was still lifting off the lake, and the sky was shot with the colours of the breaking dawn. She could hear the loons calling in the distance and the otters splashing along the shoreline. It was a wonderful time of day, and breathtaking to watch the earth wake up.

The sounds of nature were rudely interrupted by an ATV engine. She realized that her neighbours, Cathy and Freddie Kirwin, were heading out on one of their early morning fishing excursions. After shattering the silence, the couple drove off noisily through the trees to a quiet bay on Lake Scugog, far from campsites and people. Gina knew they probably wouldn’t return until late afternoon.

She sighed. The forecast was calling for clear skies and warm temperatures. If she left now she could enjoy an early morning swim before the heat of the day set in and other campers wakened and crowded the beach area. She took one last swallow of her coffee and stepped inside to change.

As campsites go, Swanson Park was impressive, comprising a lodge, 10 cabins, and 48 trailer sites arranged in small clusters. In Gina’s section, there were six trailers bordering a common grassy area adjoining the beach. Each double lot was surrounded by dense evergreen growth on three sides, shielding it from its neighbours and providing a sense of privacy.

Gina’s trailer measured 40 feet and came fully equipped. It was a comfortable summer getaway for her and her husband, Bill, and now that they were retired, they liked to spend three or four days a week at the lake, far away from the city lights. Bill had constructed a substantial private deck off their living room, and it was there that the couple did most of their summer entertaining. Bill liked to barbecue, and the couple enjoyed the casual lifestyle that camp offered. The informality appealed to them.

There were no phones at camp, no alarm clocks, and no unwanted interruptions. Life always settled into a gentler routine. They enjoyed their summer evenings under the majestic night sky and slept well without the obtrusive glare of streetlights. Gina loved to waken in time for sunrise but while she was an early riser, Bill was not. He was wont to pull the covers over his head for a few more hours of shuteye. Gina didn’t mind. She liked her alone time. Sometimes she read, sometimes she wrote, and oftentimes she just sat on the deck with her coffee, watching the world come to life around her.

Gina was a sixty-five-year-old retired nurse. For the latter part of her career she worked in the emergency ward at St. Mike’s Hospital, and prior to that, in the O.R. As her working life was emergency-driven, she valued the lack of drama associated with retirement, and the peace and quiet of it all. It was time to smell the roses.

In spite of her friends’ dire warnings, Gina felt no rude adjustment in moving from fast to slow gear. While she had enjoyed her job immensely, she found she did not miss working. She was content to know that she had made a difference in people’s lives but now it was her time for her. ‘To everything there is a season’² she mused, as the words of Pete Seeger’s song ran through her mind.

Truth be told, she felt extraordinarily lucky. Her marriage was solid. Bill was not only her husband but also her best friend, and they both enjoyed close relationships with their family and friends. Their lives were what they’d always hoped and dreamed they would be.

As she stepped into the lake that morning, she felt deeply content. She had the whole bay to herself. Off in the distance, she could hear the river burbling over the rocks. All the local rivers and lakes were swollen due to a late spring runoff, and so despite the warmth of the season, the lake remained somewhat cool. As Gina waded out, young frogs leapt for cover in the reeds and small rock bass rushed over to nip at her legs and nudge her out of their spawning area. She did not linger. She preferred to swim in the cool, deeper waters away from shore.

In passing, she became aware of the squeaky discordance of bumper pads rubbing against the Kirwin dock. Although their canoe and paddleboat were rocking gently, their sounds competed with the melodic birdcall around her.

And that was not the only discordant feature. Although the lake air was crisp, it was certainly not fragrant. Wrinkling her nose, she made a mental note to mention it to the campground owners. She knew that black bears were drawn by garbage smells, and wandering bears put everyone at risk.

Gina waded hip-deep in the water and was just about to begin her swim when she caught sight of a pair of bare legs bobbing near the dock. She presumed they belonged to a snorkeler, but who? And why would anyone snorkel so close to shore?

As she drew closer and peered into the water, she stifled a scream. A woman lay face down in the shallows, partially obscured by lily pads. Her arms and legs were afloat, while her clothing draped and drifted over the sandy bottom. Her long hair flowed about her head and schools of little fish swarmed all over her, nibbling. It was a sickening sight. She felt for a pulse. There was none. She didn’t expect there would be.

Gina’s heart was pounding but she knew what she had to do; she had to drag the body to shore. She tugged at the feet to begin the ghastly process. At first, the body was resistant and when Gina looked closer, she saw that it was snagged amongst the weeds. She tugged hard and the snag broke free, and the body shot towards her. She panicked, lost her footing, and fell backwards in the water. For a frightful moment, she found herself engulfed in dead arms and legs, clothing and water. She fought her way clear of body parts and fabric and regained her footing. Then, doggedly, she resumed the task of moving the body to dry land.

The woman’s feet were cold to the touch but Gina tried not to think about that. Instead, she wanted to make sense of the situation. The victim was fully clothed. Had she fallen in? Had she drowned? As the body skimmed the surface of the water, the victim’s blouse shifted to reveal an open flesh wound on her back, but there was no blood present; the water had seen to that.

Gina backed slowly and deliberately towards the beachfront, toe to heel, keeping a firm grasp on the victim’s ankles. Finally, she made it to shore and with one final heave, beached the body. Gina took a moment to catch her breath before rolling the woman over. Sightless eyes stared back at her. Avoiding their gaze, she straightened out the victim’s arms and legs and tugged her clothing back into place. Hot pink nail polish looked garishly incongruous on the woman’s bloated hands and feet. As Gina tidied the victim’s hair away from her face, she was relieved to find that the body was that of a stranger.

Leaving the dead woman on shore, Gina rapidly crossed the beach and grassy area to the gravel roadway. She wasn’t conscious of the sharp stones bruising her bare feet as adrenaline now coursed through her veins. On reaching the lodge, she pounded heavily on the door. She felt like throwing up. Her legs were rubbery and she clung to the doorframe. It seemed an eternity before she heard the deadbolt disengage and she found herself staring into Mrs. Novak’s concerned face.

Call the police. Someone’s dead.

Mrs. Novak didn’t hesitate. She reached for the phone on the desk and placed an emergency 911 call. She ordered both police and ambulance, and then reached for Gina and pulled her inside. Who’s dead? What’s going on? Tell me, she said.

But Gina couldn’t talk. Shock had set in. Tears streamed down her face and her hands were shaking. Mrs. Novak pushed her into a chair and placed a sweater around her shoulders. Next, she brought her a glass of water from the kitchen and silently handed it over. As Gina gulped the water down, her breathing slowly returned to normal.

I was going for a swim when I noticed the body, she explained.

Where?

Off Kirwins’ dock.

Are you sure the person’s dead?

Very.

Who is it?

I don’t know. Caution messages were swirling in Gina’s mind. She would say nothing more until the police arrived. Mrs. Novak didn’t push her and the women sat in silence.

Some minutes later, they heard twin sirens approaching, and they weren’t the only ones. Sirens screeching in tandem startled most of the campers awake and Gina heard patio doors opening all around the lodge and the murmur of concerned voices. She tried to compose her mind. She knew that all hell was about to break loose. Then she stood and walked purposefully out the door to meet the emergency teams. Mrs. Novak followed closely behind.

3

The paramedics arrived first and Gina crossed the roadway to join them. I’m afraid this will be more of a recovery than a life-saving venture, she said.

An Ontario Provincial Police officer came up behind her and joined the conversation. You found the body?

That’s right, she confirmed.

Will you lead the way? he asked.

Of course.

Then ride with us, he instructed, and ushered her into the back seat of the OPP cruiser.

When Mrs. Novak attempted to follow, he motioned her to stop. Please wait here, he said. I’ll talk to you later.

I’m the owner... she began.

Yes, and I don’t want to compromise the scene, the officer said. I’ll get back to you.

Gina joined him in the cruiser and gave directions to the site. The ambulance fell in behind. She felt the tension begin to leave her body. She had done her part and it was now a police matter. She sighed deeply, and the officer in the passenger seat turned to face her.

I’m Sergeant Roy, he introduced himself. And this is Constable Hogan.

And I’m Gina Bender.

Not the best way to start your day! the sergeant suggested. How are you holding up?

Much better now that you guys are here, Gina confessed.

The man had a kind face and she found herself responding to it. The sergeant nodded. He pulled out his notebook and began his formal enquiry. So now, what can you tell us?

There’s a dead woman and I think she was murdered.

Why do you say that?

There’s bruising, and a knife wound in her back, Gina explained.

Have you mentioned this to anyone else?

The death, yes. The murder, no. I just told Mrs. Novak there was a dead body.

I’d ask that you keep it that way, Roy said.

Gina nodded. She was very conscious of the curious eyes watching their progress down the camp road. What had taken her ten minutes to run, took mere minutes to drive. As they approached the scene, Constable Hogan drove right out onto the common grassy area and parked sideways to the lake, effectively blocking the body from public view. Gina stepped out of the cruiser and led the party to the shoreline.

Here she is. I found her in the water off the end of that dock, Gina said, and I dragged her to shore and turned her over here.

Tony Night watched the party arrive with interest. He had heard the sirens and wondered what the commotion was. Whatever it was seemed to involve his neighbour’s dock. He stepped off his deck and strolled through the grassy area towards the investigative team. Constable Hogan caught his movement out of the corner of his eye and spun around. Stay back, please, he instructed.

The paramedics checked the body and Roy knelt down beside them and watched them work. Gina was right. There was a sizable wound on the victim’s back and heavy bruising on her neck. This was both a homicide and a recovery.

Dead for some time, I take it, he said.

At least a day and maybe more, the paramedics confirmed.

Roy stood up and walked further down the shoreline, where he placed a call to OPP headquarters. Gina stood quietly by.

After completing his call, he returned to the scene and extended his hand to Gina. Thank you for your assistance, he said. Where is your campsite exactly?

Gina pointed to her trailer some 20 metres away.

You might as well go back there for now, he suggested. Get yourself a cup of tea and I’ll catch up with you later. But please watch what you say to anyone else.

Gina nodded and retreated to her deck. She felt quite queasy and wanted to sit down. Her neighbour, Margie Elgin, approached her with a steaming cup of coffee. Here, you could probably do with this, she said. What on earth happened? And why are the police and ambulance here?

Gina didn’t engage. Please just call Bill for me, she said.

Margie was disappointed. She hated not knowing what was going on, but she obligingly opened the patio door and shouted down the hallway, Bill, there’s been an incident. You better get out here now!

Clad only in his boxers, Bill leapt out of bed and raced through the trailer to the deck. He took one look at his wife and folded her in his arms. What is it? What’s wrong?

Don’t mind me! said Margie tartly, taking in his state of dress.

Indeed I won’t, said Bill, unabashed. Feel free to come back later.

Margie didn’t take the hint. Instead, she sat down and made herself comfortable. She had no intention of going anywhere. Whatever was happening clearly involved Gina, and she wanted to know what that was.

Gina sat quietly sipping her coffee. She wanted to gather her thoughts before answering Bill’s question. He was concerned, but knew better than to hurry her. Gina would talk when she was ready.

Are you all right? You look very pale! Bill said, reaching to take her hand in his.

I don’t really know, Gina said. Someone died and I found the body. It’s all a bit of a shock, but that’s all I know.

Bill nodded. He knew that it took more than a death to shock his wife like this, so she must have her reasons for not talking.

It must be a drowning, Margie surmised, her eyes darting from one to the other. She always had an opinion and rarely kept it to herself.

Gina remained silent.

Was it a young person who died? A young man? A young woman? A child perhaps? Margie pressed her, leaning in with her questions.

Gina didn’t respond and her questions fell on dead air. Margie pulled back, disappointed. Gina was oblivious. She stoically sipped her coffee and sat quietly. Bill took a moment to retrieve a throw for his wife and then retreated indoors for his trousers. He had a feeling this was going to be a long morning.

4

At the lakeshore, the officers worked fast. As first responders, it was their responsibility to assess the situation, make the necessary notifications and put the appropriate processes and procedures in place. While Constable Hogan taped off the scene, set up a police perimeter and took a number of photographs of the body and the surrounding area, Sergeant Roy took care of the logistical arrangements. He had a number of calls to make and faced a number of complicating factors. First and foremost, the local coroner was unavailable as were the township body removalists. Then the paramedics were called away. The victim was quite obviously dead and their duty of care was to the living. In the absence of the town coroner, the Ontario Forensic Pathology Service referred the case to Dr. Monaghan, the forensic pathologist in Newmarket. Monaghan subsequently gave permission for the body to be moved and suggested that the York Region removalists make the transfer to the morgue. Headquarters had already dispatched Ident Officers Bertini and Tadinsky to the scene and they were now just minutes away.

Having completed his calls, Roy took a number of photographs with his phone, covered the body from view, and waved Gina over. Bill accompanied her, placing a supportive arm around her waist. Constable Hogan lifted the police tape and ushered them through to the secured area. Margie hovered closely behind and attempted to follow them in, but Hogan stopped her.

Later, he said.

Roy led the Benders down to the water’s edge, away from the neighbours who were gathering behind the security tape. Now, first things first, he began. Your full names and addresses and then tell me what you know.

We’re the Benders. Bill and Gina Bender.

Is that Bill for William?

Yes. William and Regina Bender. We live in Scarborough. 9 Hauraki Street.

Telephone?

416-990-7900.

And what can you tell me? Roy asked, turning to Gina.

I’ve already told you everything I know, Gina informed him. I don’t know what more I can say. I went for a swim, and there she was, floating off the end of that dock. She was face down in the weeds. I dragged her to shore and ran for help.

You turned her over on shore?

That’s right.

Then ran straight to the lodge?

Yes. We don’t have a phone. No one in this area does. We all use the lodge phone.

And you don’t recognize the victim.

No. Never seen her before.

How about you? Roy turned his attention to Bill.

I know nothing about any of this, Bill replied. When I woke up, you guys were already here. I never saw the body and my wife wasn’t talking.

Roy directed his attention back to Gina. You said you thought it was murder.

Yes. As I mentioned, there’s a knife wound across her back and some bruising around her left collarbone.

Why do you say knife wound?

I worked in emerg. I’m familiar with knife wounds, Gina explained.

Have you mentioned this to anyone else? Roy asked.

No. Well, yes. I told you earlier about the woman at the lodge, Mrs. Novak, Gina stated. And since then I’ve told my husband and Margie—that woman there. But I only mentioned finding a body. That’s all. Margie was with us on our deck when I told Bill.

And I can confirm that, officer, Bill said. This is the first that I’ve heard about a murder.

Roy directed Bill to the photograph on his phone. Take a look. Have you ever seen this woman before?

Never.

You’re certain about that?

I’m sure. She’s not from this campground. Was it murder?

That’s for the coroner to determine, Roy said.

Were either of you in or on the lake earlier this week?

No, Bill replied. We only arrived here Thursday evening, officer, and as Friday was a little cool, neither of us bothered to leave the trailer until this morning when Gina decided to take an early morning swim.

Did you notice any unusual traffic on the lake? Strangers? Different boats? A plane? Anything out of the ordinary?

The Benders shook their heads.

Okay, then. The detectives will have further questions for you at a later time. And, again, I’d ask that you not discuss your conclusions with anyone else.

Gina and Bill agreed. Roy dismissed them, and walked over to join Margie who was still lingering behind the security tape.

Your name, address and phone number, please.

Margie was eager to provide the information. Roy recorded it in his notebook. Now, what can you tell me about this? he asked.

I only heard about it after you got here.

Do you recognize this woman? he asked, showing her the photograph.

No, I don’t know her.

Did you go swimming or boating this week?

No, the weather wasn’t good enough.

Have you noticed anything unusual during the past week?

No, nothing.

Thanks. You’re free to go.

But once again Margie didn’t want to go. She stayed right where she was, and Tony Night walked over to join her. Something had happened near his dock and he very much wanted to know what it was. Margie filled him in on what she knew.

Someone drowned, she said. That’s the body over there.

Roy heard a vehicle approach and turned to see the Ident van making its way down the roadway. Bertini and Tadinsky would now process the scene, leaving Roy and Hogan free to continue their interviews.

5

One Year Previously

Amanda Horan threw the youngster up in the air and caught the giggling child in her arms. Do it again, mommy. Do it again, Emma shrieked, and her mother happily complied.

Seated in their deck chairs, Amanda’s parents, Clare and Tom Harris, watched contentedly. They loved cottage life. It offered them a complete break from their busy lives. When and if Tom ever retired, he and Clare intended to relocate from Barrie to make the cottage their permanent home. There was ample room for visiting family and friends, and it’s where their daughter spent all her childhood summers. And now she was back, continuing their family tradition, with a family of her own.

Although their work commitments didn’t often allow it, Amanda and her husband loved to join her parents and exchange their fast-paced Toronto lives for the peace and serenity of Orillia cottage country. It was a beautiful place to be.

What a difference a few years can make, Clare remarked, watching her carefree daughter in action.

You’re not kidding, Tom agreed. I thought we’d never see our old Amanda again.

The Harrises sipped their whiskies and enjoyed the moment. Amanda was a dedicated mom and it was a delight to see her interact with her child. There was a time when her life had not been this pleasant.

Amanda had endured a destructive romance in her early twenties when she had fallen head over heels in love with a very dangerous man, Steve Patello. At the time, Steve was a handsome thirty-something former athlete and he had used his considerable charms to further his predatory designs on her. It had taken Tom and Clare a great deal of brainstorming to extricate their daughter from his clutches, and it had taken Amanda an even longer time to learn to trust in love again. Now, here she was six years later, happily married to Dan, and the mother of their beautiful granddaughter, Emma, better known to everyone as Emmy or just plain Em.

At age 35, Dan Horan was already a partner in the prestigious law firm of Murphy-Power. He was just the sort of son-in-law that Clare and Tom had always hoped for. He was a good, solid family man and a hard worker. He strolled over to join the group, fishing rod in hand.

Catch anything, Dan? Tom enquired.

No. It’s dinner out for us, I’m afraid. The fish just aren’t biting.

Suits me fine, Clare said. We don’t feel like cooking. And with that, she closed her book and moved inside to get ready for an evening out. Amanda followed with Emmy in hand. They would all dine at the Harrises’ club.

Later, at her mother’s suggestion, Amanda took a moment to call her childhood friends, Julie and Tracy. Since her marriage and relocation to Toronto, there were fewer opportunities for the three young women to get together and Amanda missed that. As a girl, she used to think of them as the three blind mice with unknown futures before them. Now that they were in the swing of their adult lives, she feared losing these friendships. These women were very dear to her, with their shared hopes, dreams and memories.

Julie still lived in Barrie. She was married to Roger Costello, an airline pilot, and was a stay-at-home wife and homemaker. The couple had purchased an older home which they were busy renovating, but which Amanda had yet to see. To hear Julie tell it, she