Burnt Out …Part 33 …Hitting the Target

I wonder if it gets tiresome for some people always being right.

Clare's like that. I've got five years experience as a profiler but she's a natural and practically always right―which makes me wonder what she sees in me.

Yeah, maybe I shouldn't go there. It might shake what little faith in myself I have.

Her instincts were also right about Doris―she fits the profile, hard as it may be for me to admit it and her deceased friend, Hillary Cooper, was an Olympic sharp shooter. There just has to be a connection there. That's too much of a coincidence.

Clare and I began running down leads on Hillary Cooper by contacting the Canadian Olympic Committee, but they quickly referred us to the Shooting Federation of Canada.

We were dismayed to find their head office was in Ottawa but it turned out that a committee chairman resided in Toronto and he agreed to meet with us.

Henry Lodge was quite the Olympian himself as well as being a successful investment banker. Fortunately, he knew Hillary intimately since he was engaged to her when she died in a skiing accident just a month before their wedding.

"I hope this isn't intrusive for you, Mr. Lodge," Clare said sympathetically, " but we need some information for a case we're pursuing."

"I'm okay to talk about it now, but eight years ago I wouldn't have been able to do it. Hillary's death was devastating and it took me several years to get over it."

Clare nodded. "I can only imagine the pain you went through. We just wanted to ask about Hillary's relationship with Doris Lessing."

The mention of Doris' name seemed to surprise and perturb Lodge.

"I can only say Doris and Hillary were very close―went everywhere together, like sisters."

"Did Doris ever get involved in sharp shooting herself?" I asked.

"Of course, they spent hours on shooting ranges. Doris was not interested in participating in competition, much to Hillary's dismay. Apparently, according to her, Doris had an exceptionally good eye and steady hand and was an excellent shooter."

"Did Doris get together with any of Hillary's other friends, that you know of?"

Lodge pursed his lips in disdain, "I can tell you this much, it was just Doris and Hillary. Hillary never took time to socialize with anybody other than Doris. They were thick as thieves the two of them and when Hillary died, I think Doris took it even harder than me. She was almost inconsolable."

I intervened. "So you're certain Doris never socialized with other sharp shooters?"

"Never," Lodge said adamantly. "I think Doris only took up the sport to share a common activity with Hillary. Mind you, after Hillary passed, Doris continued to show up regularly at the range and maintain her skill. Last I heard, she was living out in the country in Norfolk County and still going to the range every Saturday."

Lodge's information caught me totally off guard―I wasn't expecting Doris to have any skill at all as a sniper. There was nothing in her background that suggested it and although she belonged to the force, she never displayed any ability in that area whatsoever.

"You were hoping Doris had a friend or accomplice, weren't you?" Clare asked, as we drove home on the highway.

"I just don't know why she concealed her ability all those years. It makes no sense."

"But now that you know, she's no longer just a person of interest―we have to consider her a suspect."

I nodded solemnly. "I guess we're going to be doing a deep dive into her movements now. So, I guess she's also upgraded to a target."

"I'm afraid so," Clare whispered, rubbing my arm to console me.

It didn't help―nothing helped. I was already feeling betrayed by Doris' secret life and the possibility she could be our sniper totally nauseated me.