After lunch, Lorne received another update from the Mounties, and when he had skimmed through it, he looked up and said, "The task force has now analysed enough restaurants to see a solid MO. The scheme's prime targets are those who lease the space and have high mortgages on their homes."

I tilted my head in question. "How would they know about the mortgages?"

"Query the lease holder's address in the database."

"Yes, of course. As for real estate transactions. Can everybody do that?"

"Private individuals can query basic information, but they have no access to the financial aspects. These data are available only to those who have an account with LTSA – the Land Title and Survey Authority – at least, it's this way in BC, and I think it's similar in the other provinces. Usually, lawyers, notaries public, banks and real estate agencies hold accounts."

I pursed my lips and nodded. "And he'd have at least one of those in his Mob. Seems he wanted targets who would have difficulty getting loans."

"Exactly! The Mounties have seen that as the businesses decline toward insolvency, loan sharks approach." Lorne went back to his computer and scrolled up. "So far, the task force has found nine who report being charged ten per cent interest for thirty-day loans."

"Only ten per cent? I thought loan sharks charged much more."

"Per month, Cynthia. More than a hundred and twenty per cent a year. And anything above sixty per cent is an indictable offence." He laughed. "But sharks don't keep written records, so they're difficult to prosecute."

"Without the paperwork, how do they ...? Doh! Stupid question. Of course, intimidation and violence. Can the police track the database queries?"

"They're working on that."

I pointed out the window toward the town centre. "What about the one down there, whatever its name was before Suprême? The dead owner and chef?"

"There was nothing about it in their update. The detachment is likely still digging into it. But with disappearances and deaths in other restaurants across the country, it appears that the Mob resorts to these extremes if the location is prime, and their manipulation doesn't work. I'm sure the analysts will find answers to this and much more."

I laughed. "And babbeo Rinaldi has duped himself into thinking his actions are invisible."

"Yeah!" Cynthia nodded. "Three months opening them with me, and Lord knows how long he spent before that, setting up the businesses to fail, taking them over and assembling his chain. Being unnoticed for such a long time would increasingly instil confidence in his cockamamie scheme."

"And with all the restaurants crowded, and having no serious bobbles until this week, a sense of invincibility seems natural."

"No serious bobbles that we know about, Kate." Lorne jotted a few words on a red Post-it pad, peeled the sheet off and flagged it on the top edge of his computer screen. "Nathan was a serious sabot in their smooth-running machine, but how many before him challenged and were snuffed?"

"Yeah, but with his passion for sleuthing, and with his years of investigative criminology studies, he would have been attuned to subtle signs and to piecing together disparate parts. We're all sharp, but none of us suspected anything until he assembled the pieces for me – and even then, I was sceptical."

"True." He pointed to his Post-it note. "But to be thorough, I'll suggest they look for matches with unsolved disappearances and deaths – those beyond the business owners."

We continued discussing points in the emailed update until the mellow tones of a Westminster chime reverberated through the vast room. "Either the groceries or the shoes," Lorne said as he rose and headed toward the front door.

He returned a short while later, followed by a man carrying two huge canvas bags, and as he set them down, he said, "With fit so critical, I brought a selection of brands in sizes spanning your outlines and measurements. Oh, and hi, I'm Jake."

After we had introduced ourselves, we began trying on shoes, and on the third attempt, Cynthia said, "These are all too short for me. My toes are jammed in all of them."

Jake felt her foot through the fabric and leather. "The design is to have the toes curled down, but not uncomfortably so. This feels close to perfect."

"Curled down?" Why?"

"For more ease and control on small holds." He held out his hand, palm down, placed his fingertips on the edge of the coffee table and pressed down, allowing his fingers to flex backwards. "Imagine these being your toes without the curl." Then curling his fingers a bit, he added, "Look at how much better a grip it gives this way, how much more focused the force and how much easier it will hold your weight on a tiny hold."

While Jake assisted her in finding the best design and size, it didn't take me long to find a perfect fit in a sleek Five Ten pair, my go-to brand. A short while later, Cynthia decided on the Scarpas after Jake convinced her she'd not find any more comfortable. Then, as he processed Lorne's card, he asked, "Where are you headed? The Core? The Chief?"

Lorne pointed to the wall soaring above them and chuckled. "No, much closer. Still a lot of unsent lines on that."

"Oh!" Jake stood and examined it for a long time; then, he said, "Looks all natural."

"It is – I thought it too fine to despoil."

Then nodding at the picture on the mantle, Jake said, "Great pic of Waddington. You shoot that?"

"I did. On our flight in, I had the pilot do a full flyby – a rare clear day sandwiched between systems."

"I was weathered off twice; the first time, we ran out of food after a week on Rainy Knob, waiting for Bravo Icefall to settle. The second time, we spent four days in August snowstorms below the face. Did luck give you a send?"

"It did. The weather held, so we pushed to Spearman Col and waited for the ice feathers to clear from the summit spire. The third morning, there were still too many for an alpine start, but with the altimeter beginning a rapid rise, we left at noon. Summited shortly before sunset and hung a bivvy above the Tooth notch on the way down."

"Nice! Still on my bucket list." He crossed his fingers. "Next time, lucky."

Cynthia chuckled. "Not only do you have to teach me how to climb, Lorne, but also how to understand the language."

Lorne shrugged. "Seems we'll have lots of time for both of those while we wait."

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Author's Note

The details of the climb are from my 1971 ascent of Mount Waddington. From its first discovery, it became one of the world's major climbing challenges, and until 1936, it resisted all attempts to reach its summit. With no easy way up, it still rates among the world's most technically difficult major mountains, and this is compounded by its remoteness and inaccessibility. Standing head and shoulders above all else in the region, it's the first thing hit by moisture coming across the Pacific, and it often creates its own unpredictable weather.