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Back The Trickster Save as PDF
Chapters (74)
  1. The Trickster
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. Preface to the 20th anniversary edition
  6. Introduction
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. Keep Reading
  70. FURNACE
  71. Acknowledgements
  72. About the Author
  73. ALSO BY THE AUTHOR
  74. About the Publisher

Katie sobered. ‘Not good. I gave him half an adult dose of Mogadon.’

She was aware that Craig McGee was looking at her questioningly. ‘Yeah I know I shouldn’t have. My Mom kept the damn things here in the back of the kitchen cabinet to help her sleep. It was all I could think to do. He was hysterical.’

He nodded. ‘You know where I am if you need me.’

She looked small again, and she made a tiny gesture with her hand as if to dismiss the whole visit. Craig made for the door and stopped. ‘Can I just ask you one small favour?’

She looked dumbly at him, her eyes freshening with new tears.

He pulled the yellow paper square from his pocket. ‘This word. I know it’s Indian.’ He held it out to her.

Katie Hunt looked at it, then back up at the policeman who’d brought so much hurt into her house since his first visit. Her voice was hoarse and weak. ‘You heard this from Sam?’

Craig still saw no reason to withhold anything from her. ‘No. Constable Daniel Hawk wrote it. A note to himself.’

She looked at him like he was lying and held the paper back out to him like she wanted it out of her hand.

‘It means line or boundary. The edge of something.’

‘Uh-huh?’ Craig was disappointed. What had he hoped for? A word that meant Sam Hunt’s your man? He took the paper back and nodded his thanks. As he put his hand to the door she spoke again quietly.

‘You’re wrong, Craig.’

‘What about?’

‘You said I know where to get you. I don’t. Leave me your number.’

46

Alberta 1907 Siding Twenty-three

‘Where is he?’

Panting, wide-eyed, his nostrils flaring, Henderson had forgotten in his madness to speak Singing Tree’s language. She looked at him with inscrutable black eyes and her only response was to pull her son closer to her, as though she imagined Henderson had come to take him.

The snow swirled around the tall man, sticking to one side of his body as it would cling to the rough trunk of a tree. He clenched his fists in frustration, standing impotently outside the entrance to the tipi he had just searched, watched by the silent woman and child.

Singing Tree might not have understood his words, but Henderson’s actions were naked in their intention. She tightened her arms around Walks Alone, keeping her eyes fixed steadily on the hysterical Scot, and spoke to him quietly. ‘He will not be back here. He is no longer chief. No longer fit as a husband.’

Walks Alone’s huge round black eyes were full of tears at his mother’s words but he made no move from the circle of her arms.