Page 117 of The Bone Code
“In Quebec, social workers are overwhelmed and underpaid.”
True everywhere. Still. She was only sixteen.
I held my tongue.
“The dossier just stops after that,” Ryan said.
“Keep digging.”
“I will.”
The didgeridoo warbled again at 9:07. I was in the kitchen, drinking coffee and toasting a bagel. I assumed Anne was still sleeping.
Vislosky.
I briefed her on the diary. On Lena Chalamet.
She didn’t interrupt. I had to admit, she was an outstanding listener.
“I submitted France’s swab to the lab,” Vislosky said when I’d finished.
“Good,” I replied, hoping the process would happen quickly. “I’ve got people working Chalamet on the Montreal end.”
“The marine biologist at College of Charleston finally sent a report. Not the speediest toad in the pond.”
“What does it say?”
“He can’t tell shit.”
“Shoot it to me?”
“Will do.”
Ryan called again around ten.
“Looks like Lena took to living rough, as the Brits say.”
“Not easy, given Montreal winters.”
“These street kids aren’t all that obliging, and most weren’t around back then. But one brave little Einstein vaguely recalls a Lena with bad-looking teeth.”
“Where?”
“He says she was a regular in Centreville for a while. Rue Crescent, Bishop, Sainte-Catherine, boulevard de Maisonneuve.”
“The area around Concordia University.”
“Yes.”
“When did he last see her?”
“He thinks it was about three years ago.”
“What else?”
“He says she used to sneak into the Concordia library to use the computers.”
“Don’t they have security to prevent outsiders doing that?”
