Chapter Twenty-Five

Declan and Charlie burst into the office.

"Start looking up everything you can on the Axemen. I need contact info for the team, coaching staff, the guy who cleans up the change room—everyone. I'm especially interested in anything you can get me on Justin Neves. I'll call Katherine and see what she can tell me."

Declan sat at his desk and pulled out a pad of paper and pen. Then he grabbed his phone and punched in Katherine's number. She answered on the third ring.

"Declan? Do you have any news?"

"Katherine, tell me everything you can about the Airdrie Axemen."

Katherine said, "It was the one thing that really excited Ian. There was a big-shot from out east that was looking at buying him out. Ian was considering it, but he knew it wouldn't go over well with the team. Ian needed money to keep the team afloat, which is why I didn't understand his resistance to selling that goddamned factory building."

"Who would I talk to in the organisation who knows about the players?"

"Dave Chalmers. He's the coach. I can give you his contact information."

Declan wrote down the number, thanked her and ended the call.

Charlie walked into Declan's office. "I've pulled together a list of everyone directly involved with the team and facility. Information on the team members was more difficult, since some of them are under eighteen, but I located a bunch of their social media accounts, including those for Justin Neves."

"Those'll come in handy," Declan said, taking the printout.

"I'm heading down to Gwen's. Can I pick you up something?" Charlie asked.

"Americano, please. Extra-large, double shot. And if she tries to send you back with a pastry of some sort, tell her I'll burn the building down."

"Large Americano, no fire. You got it."

Charlie left the office as Declan pulled out his laptop. He had an idea.

* * * *

Ten minutes later, Charlie climbed back up the stairs with two large coffees and two almond cookies. He knew he'd have to eat both himself, but he didn't have the fortitude to say no to Gwen. When he walked into the main office, he heard a strange sound. Coffees in hand, he entered Declan's office to find him streaming a hockey game on the wall-mounted TV.

"Thanks," Declan said, extending his hand without taking his eyes off the screen.

"The Axemen?" Charlie said.

"I located footage of a game. I wanted to get a better sense of the team."

Charlie stood behind Declan watching for a few minutes until he could no longer remain silent. He shouted, "That guy is terrible!"

Declan jumped. "Crap. I didn't know you were still behind me… Which guy is terrible?"

"Neves. I mean, he's okay, but nowhere near up to the rest of the team. His puck handling is mediocre. Here, back it up."

Declan handed him the remote.

"Watch him…there. The way he handled the puck. He lost control over a simple pass to the forward. His right ankle's weak. I can't tell if it's from an injury, or he's just built that way. And there—he can barely skate backwards."

"He looked just fine to me," Declan said.

"Oh, puh-leaz," Charlie said, pointing at the screen. "He gave up after trying for two seconds. Oh shit, and just there. The check. He checks like a three-year-old in the playground."

Declan cocked his head. "Why do you say that?"

"The objective of checking is to unbalance the opposing player. He just about knocked himself over."

"How do you know these things?" Declan asked as he sat on the edge of his desk.

"I've played hockey since I was twelve. It was one thing my dad and I bonded over. I played right up ‘til I graduated from university."

Declan smiled. "You played for what—the computer engineering team?"

"No. They sucked. I was brought in as a ringer for the faculty of music's team—the Gustav Maulers. I played defence. I'm used to protecting my man," Charlie said in the deepest voice he could muster.

Declan shook his head. "I thought defencemen are supposed to protect the net?"

"They are. I just thought it sounded more heroic."

"Mr Watts, you continue to amaze me."

Declan looked at him for a moment before asking, "So, Charlie. Do you miss playing hockey?"

"Yeah."

"I hate to ask, but how would you feel about going undercover again?"

* * * *

Declan phoned and arranged a two p.m. meeting with Coach Chalmers at a diner on the edge of Airdrie, just a thirty-minute drive from Calgary. Airdrie was a bedroom community whose prime attractions were the Iron Horse Park Miniature Train, an axe-throwing centre and a farmers' market. There was nothing surprising about that for a city of seventy thousand. What was surprising was that it had an abundance of AAA hockey teams, the Axemen being one of four.

Declan pulled up to the diner and walked in. He immediately recognised Coach Chalmers by his grey mullet and the handlebar moustache he had sported in an online team photo. The coach was already seated at a table near the front and Declan joined him.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me," Declan said.

"No problem," Chalmers replied. "I can't tell you how hard-hit the kids were when they heard that Ian was dead."

"Sorry to hear that. How are the people in the office and the coaching staff doing?"

Chalmers shook his head. "Mister, this isn't the NHL. Sure, we have the guys who maintain the building and the ice—they're city employees. Just like the cleaning staff. And the concessions, they're run by contractors. Other than that…it's me, Todd Elmer who's the assistant coach, our travel manager Jan McNab and the owner. Now that Ian's gone, I don't know where the team stands."

"Do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill Ian?"

"Around here? No one! Everybody loved the guy. Since he bought into the Axemen, they've been a winning team. He got them the best equipment, the best publicity—he even got new ice-grooming equipment. Hell, he even badgered the big companies here to kick in for a complete overhaul of the arena." Chalmers raised his empty mug in the direction of the waitress who came over with a second mug and a full pot of coffee. She filled both men's cups.

"Thanks, Maggie," Chalmers said.

Declan waited until Maggie was out of earshot before asking, "What about the rumours that Ian was mismanaging team funds?"

"So, you heard that, did ya? Those rumours were started by Nick Neves, who wanted to get control of the team. He was very much against the possible sale to a Toronto investor."

"What was Nick's connection to the team?" Declan asked.

"He was its lead sponsor. He installed the ventilation system in the new arena, all at his own expense."

"Doesn't his son play for the team?"

"Justin? Yeah, he's with us." Chalmers said.

Declan noted the lack of enthusiasm in the coach's response. "Is he a good player?"

"He's not the best but having him on the team keeps his dad happy and that helps us."

Declan paused. "Is there much money in owning a team like this?"

Chalmers laughed. "For the most part, it's a break-even proposition at best, but a few of our kids have been picked up by the NHL. When that happens, the team owner might see a bit of a…financial reward. Some parents have even offered me a little money to give their kids more ice time when the NHL scouts are in."

"You ever take them up on that?"

"Nope. Won't touch a bribe. I like what I do, and I don't plan on risking that for anything." Chalmers took a long sip of coffee. "What's this all got to do with Ian's death?"

"I'm just gathering as much information as I can."

"Why are you doing this, and not the cops?" Chalmers asked.

"They have their own version of what happened to Ian Mann. His wife has a different idea, and she hired me to find out what happened. I'm consulting with the police, though. Coach Chalmers, I'm hoping you can help me get some information about Ian's death."

"Sure. Whatever you need."

"I saw on your website that you've got a summer training camp coming up next week."

"What of it?"

"I want to put one of my people on the ice with your team."

Chalmers snorted. "You think it's that easy? These guys are some of the best players around."

"My assistant will pass for eighteen or nineteen, and he played hockey in university."

Chalmers was silent.

Declan continued, "It may be our best chance at getting a lead on finding out who did this to Ian. And, if we find nothing, it'll clear the team of any involvement."

Chalmers took another sip of coffee. "And you say he can play? If he can't, they'll spot it the minute he steps on the ice."

"Just tell them he's here to try out for the team. Nothing more. You're doing it as a favour for Katherine in memory of Ian. That way, if he can't play as well as I say he can, there's no harm, no foul. Nothing'll reflect badly on you."

Chalmers stared hard at Declan. "Tell him to come for the skills practice Monday afternoon. I'll need him at the arena for three p.m. If he's late, he's out."

Chalmers finished his last swig of coffee and walked out of the diner. Declan picked up the phone.

"Charlie, you're in."