She hadn't seen anything, just heard a bike roar away. She was positive about that. It hadn't just driven by, it had roared away. I thanked her and left her with Fred while I went back outside to where the OPP detectives were watching the body being loaded into McKenney's hearse. I waited until the doors were closed; then Kowalchuk noticed me and introduced me to the detectives. I didn't know either of them. One was called Kennedy, the other Werner. They shook hands, the way men shake hands with distant relatives at a funeral. Kennedy said, "You sure left us with a mess," and Werner chuckled. "Not my choice," I told him. "If you want me to fill you in, I'm here, but in the meantime, there's something I just heard that may be important." "Yeah, what's 'at?" Werner was the prankster of the pair, I guessed; one partner usually is. He's the one who gives the long hours their light relief, making most of the wisecracks, setting up the occasional heavy-handed practical jokes cops play on one another.
