They say that a Canadian Mountie always get’s their man. Well, most Mounties anyway. Then there was O’Mally. He had been put on the Renault case, but after the suspect did a runner, O’Mally was out of his element. Witness statements suggested that he had gone northwards, but the fog had prevented them from saying anymore than that. O’Mally was well aware that he had finished bottom of his class in tracking at the academy, but now even with his trusted bloodhound, Duke he was struggling to pick up the trail.
“Duke, old boy, I hope you can find the a trail soon. I can’t find a single clue myself.”