The snow kept coming. We hit a bad patch on the road and for one instant I could feel everything moving sideways. Natalie slowed down just a little bit, but otherwise barreled right on through it. Then the snow stopped, just like that. Neither of us said anything about it. We didn’t want to jinx it. Or maybe we just didn’t feel like talking yet. A few minutes later, I picked up my cell phone and dialed Leon’s number.
“How old is that thing?” she said. “It looks like something from World War II.”
“It works,” I said.
“Do you have to crank it by hand first?”
“At least I have a cell phone.”
“Yeah, so anybody can call you, no matter where you are.”
“If I left it on, yeah.”
She smiled and shook her head. Before I could say anything else, Leon came on the line.
“Leon,” I said. “Are you at the store? I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Of course not, Alex. What’s going on?”
“I’m just wondering if you could give me the name of your friend at the newspaper. We’ve got something we want to look up.”
There was a pause. “Why don’t you just tell me what you need? I can talk to him.”
“All right,” I said. Like there was any other way. “This is what we’re looking for. A man named Reynaud was murdered a long time ago, in Soo Michigan. Most likely in a bar.”
“What’s the full name?”
I pictured him getting out his little notepad, standing there among the snowmobiles with the phone to his ear.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Natalie. “Did you ever tell me his full name?”
“Jean Sylvain Reynaud.” She kept staring straight ahead. We had just driven through Iron Bridge, and now we were back out on the open road.
“Jean Sylvain Reynaud,” I said into the phone.
“When was the murder?”
“Natalie, do you remember-”
“Nineteen seventy-three,” she said, her eyes still straight ahead. Her voice was flat. “I don’t know what date. Sometime early in the year.”
“Leon, it was early 1973.”
“Do you have anything on the cause of death? Shooting? Stabbing?”
I looked over at her.
“Leon,” I said. “That should be enough to go on, shouldn’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah. No problem. I’ll give my guy a call, see what he can find out. If it was here in the Soo, I know the Evening News will have a record of it.”
“Thanks, Leon. You’re the best.”
He told me he’d keep in touch. Then he was off to sell more snowmobiles. I put the phone down and looked out the side window.
“This Leon,” she said. “He’s good at this stuff, eh?”
“He is.”
“How long will it take him to find out?”
I looked at my watch. It was 3:15. “We’ll be down there by what,