Northern Lights: A Due South Novel

Chapter 9: No Canadians, No Mounties, No Frasers

When Elizabeth and Montgomery stepped out of the car in the 29th precinct parking lot, Isabel rolled down the window to video them walking into the station. Isabel still didn't have a clear image of her face, and she preferred it to remain that way. Yet she could not hide from the camera forever. She hoped that Isabel, like most teenagers, had a circadian rhythm shifted towards staying up late and waking up later.

The 29th precinct was a squat three-storey building with narrow, barred windows set in thick walls. Grime had, over the decades, turned the bullet-marked red brick to a muddy brown. Citizens flowed like traffic in and out of the narrow entrance. Elizabeth held the single door for four uniformed officers, three heavy-set working Latino men in stained jumpsuits, two teenage boys with light brown skin and dark eyes carrying skateboards, and a middle-aged black woman whose wrinkled khaki coat hung open to reveal pink nurses' scrubs, before a brief gap in the crowd allowed her to scoot inside.

Harsh fluorescent lights pounded the khaki green walls and the gum on the decade-old linoleum, tough as concrete after thousands of dirty footsteps. A faded, yellowing poster on the back wall admonished the viewer to "Just Say No to Drugs". Keyboards clattered, civilians chattered, doors slammed, central heating blasted, and a car alarm blared a half-block away. Two women, one in uniform and one a civilian aide, sat at the intake desk behind a plexiglass shield.

While she waited in the queue to sign in, Elizabeth cleaned up a pile of personal safety pamphlets that someone had scattered on the floor, and watched Montgomery beg food from a janitor. She could have left her wolf in the car, but she kept her father's tenth Chicago Rule in mind: You can get away with anything if you blame it on the wolf.

When she reached the front, the sergeant behind the desk chuckled at Elizabeth's brown uniform, with its long, belted coat, many pockets, and her wide campaign hat.

"Is Smoky the Bear on the run?" she said through the glass.

"I'm not aware of any bears in Chicago..." she paused, reading the sergeant's nametag. "Sergeant Santiago, except for your football team. I'm here about this case." Elizabeth removed a folded printout from her notebook and slid it across the desk. As she did, Montgomery leaped up, putting her paws on the counter. The civilian aide, Nancy, scratched Montgomery's head while Nancy searched for the case on her computer.

Ever the diplomat, Elizabeth thought.

"He's in. I'll take you in a moment. I love your dog!"

"Thank you kindly, Nancy. Montgomery is an excellent detective. And a half-wolf. Or quarter-wolf. We're not certain how much wolf, precisely, but we know her great-grandfather Diefenbaker and several others in her line..." Elizabeth trailed off as the half-wolf lunged for a bag of French fries someone had left on the table at the end of the foyer. Pushing the wolf aside, she scooped up the fries and placed them in the trash. Montgomery's whine joined the roaring chatter of the precinct.

As Nancy pushed her chair back, Sergeant Santiago leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Isn't he afraid of...?" Santiago pointed at Montgomery.

"Oh, yes." Nancy sent a mass text to a 29th precinct group chat that excluded one particular detective. "I'll film the show for you."

Nancy led Elizabeth up a staircase, through a bullpen crammed with messy metal desks, overflowing shelves, and ageing computers. They marched down a narrow hallway with heavy doors on each side. The hallway seemed to be a thoroughfare, with several civilian aides, detectives, and uniformed officers all following their path. Curiously, when Elizabeth moved aside to let them pass, all insisted on remaining behind her.

"In there." Nancy turned the handle on a heavy metal door, which Elizabeth ought to have recognized.

"Thank you, Nancy. Much appreciated."