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Corpse Flower: A Cornwall and Redfern Mystery

Page 21

by Gloria Ferris


  The only available room at the Super 8 was next to the Belcourts’ units. After unloading Rae’s luggage, we had coffee and a muffin in the motel’s small restaurant. I sat with my back to the door in case Chesley or Ivy came in.

  Rae offered to pay for our breakfast, and I let her. After I settled up my taxes, I would be back to where I was two years ago. I had to shake the Weasel loose from my money in the next few days, or me and my Savage would be sleeping on that park bench. On second thought, gas for the motorcycle would be out of reach and I would have to sell it.

  “What’s wrong, Bliss? You look almost as bad as last night. Are you sure you don’t want a painkiller?”

  “I have to get going. I need to stop in at the municipal offices and pay my taxes. You stay here and have another coffee, but remember, don’t leave.”

  “I won’t. Bliss, do you want to stay here with me until we can move back home? I really don’t want to be alone.”

  Yes! I figured I would have to either wander the streets all night or slip back into my trailer, hoping the Quigleys and Snake wouldn’t notice me.

  “I’m doing some work for Dougal later, and it might be late when I’m through, but I’ll call you if I can make it. In the meantime, park your car around back where it can’t be seen from the highway. No point advertising your whereabouts.”

  Chapter

  THIRTY-SIX

  I ran into Chesley at the door. He held a plastic tray heaped with two Styrofoam containers and two paper cups of coffee. A bag hanging from a fingertip dropped at my feet.

  “Let me get the door for you, Chesley.” I picked up the bag, opened the door, and gave him a shove in the back to propel him outside before he noticed Rae. Until the Barrister house deal was officially dead, I didn’t want either of the Belcourts getting friendly with Rae and learning about my personal circumstances — or her business.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here, Bliss. But, I was going to call you anyway. Mum and I want to talk to you.”

  “Maybe I can stop by later, Chesley. I have some business in town right now.”

  “This is important. Here, we’ll go into Mum’s room.”

  He stopped in front of door number six and gave it a soft kick with his foot. I glanced at my watch and saw it was barely ten o’clock, still plenty of time to get to the municipal offices before noon. Once there, I planned to throw the mother of all scenes if Alyce still didn’t accept cash or cheque.

  “Okay, Chesley, let’s do it.”

  Ivy opened the door, every grey curl in place and lips carefully filled in with cardinal red colour. A long satin garment, black, covered her ample figure.

  “You found her. Good. Come in, Miss Cornwall.”

  Two beds covered in plaid spreads, a round table, and two orange armchairs almost filled the room. Usual motel decor.

  Ivy seemed to be reading my mind. She said, “Miss Cornwall, this is not the sort of place I’m used to. I want to complete my business here in Lockport and go home where my hot tub and a bottle of Shiraz are waiting. Sit down, Miss Cornwall, and let’s get to it.”

  I sat in one of the orange chairs and waited while Chesley deposited the tray on the table and took the covers off their breakfast containers. There were scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and whole wheat toast with little packets of jam on the side. My stomach threatened to rumble.

  “I’m sure you’ve already had your breakfast, Miss Cornwall, so you won’t mind if we eat and talk?”

  “Not at all. I couldn’t eat another bite.”

  Chesley kept his huge eyes on my face as he ate his breakfast. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to warn me not to mention anything we had discussed yesterday, or he just thought I was pretty. I figured the former.

  “Chesley and I are considering opening a new greenhouse here, Miss Cornwall.”

  “Why?”

  “What? Why?” Ivy asked.

  “I mean, what’s here in Lockport? It’s just a small town like hundreds of other towns in southwestern Ontario. It’s several hours from any major population base like Toronto or Hamilton. Why would you want to open a business that depends on a large customer base?” Guess I shouldn’t apply for a job with the Lockport Chamber of Commerce.

  “Valid point, Miss Cornwall. I can see we’ve chosen well. Let me put my cards on the table.”

  Both Ivy and Chesley had finished their food and were now sipping coffee. I glanced under the table at my watch and, by a hair’s breadth, restrained myself from sighing.

  “I’m not sure if you are aware of this, Miss Cornwall, but Chesley and your cousin, Dougal Seabrook, were roommates at university. They, along with a young lady who subsequently became Mrs. Seabrook, acquired some Titan Arum tubers overseas and brought them home. Chesley’s tuber languished for a few years, then perished. I understand the other two plants are now blossoming and will be pollinated by your cousin and his ex-wife. Are these facts correct as you know them, Miss Cornwall?”

  “I admire your grasp of the situation, Mrs. Belcourt.”

  “And I admire your work ethic and your loyalty to your cousin. We can certainly use you in our organization. But, to answer your question as to why we have fixed on Lockport for our new venture, the facts are based on fiscal acumen and geographical requirements.”

  “What do the Titan Arums have to do with anything?” I avoided looking at Chesley, who had spilled his guts on that subject yesterday. I wanted to hear from Ivy, who obviously ran the show.

  “I’ll come to that. Chesley and I own two large greenhouse operations, one in St. Catharines and one in Niagara Falls. We have been dabbling in exotics for a few years now and are at the point where we need to expand one of our facilities to accommodate them, or build a new one dedicated to exotics only. Chesley, in particular, has an interest in domestic endangered flora.”

  “You mean, like swamp plants?” I was beginning to get the picture.

  “The Barrister property is extensive enough to accommodate several large greenhouses. And the house itself can be renovated into office and living spaces. It might be possible to rent out space to another business or two to generate extra revenue. Land is cheaper here and the property taxes are substantially lower.”

  “What about the domestic endangered flora?”

  “The Barrister property is adjacent to a piece of wetland with a river running through to Lake Huron and plenty of tree cover. Perfect to propagate plants that would be made available to universities and individuals interested in preservation of endangered species.”

  “My swamp.”

  “Exactly, Miss Cornwall.”

  “You want to buy it?”

  “I want to buy your land and the Barrister property. Before we looked at the Barrister house, Elaine Simms told us you owned the land across the road.”

  “And the Titan Arums? Where do they come in?”

  “It’s very simple, Miss Cornwall. I’m only interested in the house and wetland if you can guarantee at least one of the Titan Arums is part of the deal.”

  “Glory and Dougal don’t need money, so I doubt they’ll sell their plants. Are you willing to settle for an alternative arrangement, Mrs. Belcourt?”

  “Like what, Miss Cornwall? Chesley and I have our hearts set on having at least one mature Titan Arum as a draw for the new greenhouse.”

  “You mean, if you can’t acquire one of the Titans, you will pass up Lockport as your new location?” I wanted the bottom line.

  “Come now, Miss Cornwall. I believe you are a clever woman. I am coming up to retirement age and eventually want to leave Chesley in charge of the entire Belcourt Corporation. My personal plan is to build a summer home in Lockport near the lake and spend winters in Florida or Costa Rica.

  “Sounds like a nice plan.”

  “Although I won’t be spending my winters here, Chesley will. We plan to run a year-round operation. We have excellent managers for our businesses in St. Catharines and Niagara Falls and will concentrate our efforts on Lockport for
the next year or two. We plan to lead the world in mail-order exotics. And we expect the endangered flora side of the enterprise will create international interest.”

  “Well, Mrs. Belcourt, you’ve taken me by surprise. It would be an exercise in futility to try and buy Sif and Thor outright, but perhaps you would consider something a little different?”

  “You mentioned that earlier, Miss Cornwall. What do you have in mind?”

  “I haven’t had time to think this through, so I’d prefer not to speculate just yet. I’m assuming Chesley has already approached Glory and Dougal?”

  Chesley found his voice. “I asked Glory the other night when I dropped off the Berg bamboo. She refused to sell, and wouldn’t even let me see Sif. I was reluctant to approach Dougal since we parted on bad terms a few years ago, but I did go over to his house last night after yoga class. I never got farther than the front steps. He didn’t invite me in, and I never got a chance to ask if he would consider selling Thor.”

  “We’re going back. This afternoon.”

  Chesley opened his mouth, but Ivy quelled him with one look, and he sank back into his chair. I could learn a lot from this woman.

  I told him, “I’ll meet you in front of Dougal’s house at six o’clock. Don’t go in without me. Together, we will come up with a solution to benefit everyone.” I had no idea how to accomplish that, but something was bound to occur to me.

  Somehow, I had to avoid passing title of the swamp to the Weasel until the Belcourts made up their minds to buy property for their new venture. I just wasn’t sure they wouldn’t run for the county line if they got their hands on a Titan Arum, and build their new greenhouse elsewhere. Things were getting so complicated that one false step now and I could end up with nothing. Not so different from present circumstances, but I was so close to solvency that I couldn’t bear to start all over again.

  Sitting in Ivy’s motel room, I had stiffened up considerably, and the sweat beaded on my forehead as I swung my leg over the bike. Neither Belcourt came out to see me off, and I was glad they didn’t witness my discomfort.

  Getting off the bike in front of the municipal building hurt even more, and as I shuffled across the sidewalk towards the steps, a voice called out, “You’re hobbling like a bride the morning after her wedding night.”

  “Nice, Thea,” I answered and put one foot on the first step. When the pain died down, I dragged the other foot up beside the first.

  “Sorry, Moonbeam. I heard you were in an accident last night.”

  “Yes,” was all I could manage as I reached for the doorknob. Thea followed me into the building. I expected her to disappear into the police offices, but she remained near as I tried to manoeuvre the first step to the second floor.

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” She wrapped her arms around me, pinning my arms to my side, and carried me up the flight of stairs.

  “There.” She set me down and reached up to straighten her bun. She wasn’t even puffing.

  “Well, thanks, Thea. That was helpful.”

  At the battered wooden counter, I waved to Alyce, who was again holding the fort down single-handedly. She approached at a snail’s pace and even more slowly blinked her black-rimmed eyes.

  “Oh. Mrs. Bains, isn’t it? You’re back.”

  “Ms. Cornwall. Good to see you, Alyce. I’m here to pay my taxes. Here’s the notice and here’s my debit card. Let’s get keying and swiping and whatever else needs doing.”

  “Um, could you excuse me for a minute, Mrs. Cornwall? I have to make a quick call.”

  “No you don’t, Alyce. That’s your debit machine, isn’t it? And that’s your computer. Type in this tax number you see here. All my information will come up on the screen and we’ll go from there. What are you waiting for?”

  The blue eyes filled with tears. “I really have to make a call. Then I’ll be right back.”

  “Alyce. Type. I’ll even read the numbers for you, but you are not using the phone until we complete this transaction. Got it?”

  “Take it easy there, Moonbeam. Maybe this young lady’s supervisor can help.”

  I turned my neck slowly to find Thea had been standing at the doorway throughout my exchange with Alyce. I turned back to the girl.

  “What about it, Alyce? Where’s your supervisor?”

  She burst into tears just as a small octogenarian with a bulbous nose came through the door behind us, clutching a sheet of paper.

  “I’ve come to pay my house tax,” he announced. “Get out of the way, there, Missy. Oh, hello, Officer Thea. What a pleasure to see you, my dear.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Thiesson,” replied Thea. “If you’ll just wait a minute, I’m sure this young lady will pull herself together.”

  “She’s a nitwit,” the old gent whispered loudly. “But, she’s related to the mayor’s wife, so they gave her a job here. Flunked out of college. You have to speak slowly to her.”

  Both Thea and I turned toward Alyce, who looked like a racoon in the headlights of a transport truck.

  “I think you should get your supervisor. Now.” Thea’s tone was quiet, but Alyce ran sobbing from the room.

  “Can’t I pay my tax?” asked Mr. Thiesson. “This is the last day. I always wait until the last day just so they think I forgot.”

  “You’ll pay your taxes, Mr. Thiesson, don’t you worry. And so will you, Moonbeam.”

  Alyce, still crying, came back in the wake of a large woman in red jeans and a black, rhinestone-studded tank top.

  “I’m the office manager, Delia Melancourt. Why is this child so upset?”

  I said, “Alyce doesn’t seem to know how to use the debit machine or access the property tax program on the computer, Ms. Melancourt. Perhaps she needs more training, but in the meantime, both this gentleman and I are anxious to take care of our business and be on our way, so I assume you can help us?” I double-dog-dared Ms. Melancourt to put more obstacles in our way. Thea was formidable, but my money was on Mr. Thiesson.

  With a quizzical look at Alyce, the office manager took Mr. Thiesson’s debit card and processed him out the door in under three minutes. Then she did the same for me. I had the PAID stamp on my form and the debit card receipt to prove I was still the legal owner of fifty acres of the finest swampland in Bruce County. I tucked these treasures into the inner pocket of my jacket, next to the precious photo.

  “Thanks for your help, Thea. I didn’t realize Alyce was related to Andrea Bains, but now I understand why she gave me the runaround yesterday.”

  “The Chief suspected as much after you told him what happened. Are you going to sit back and wait for your ex to make an offer?”

  “Wait a minute. Did Redfern send you here to make sure I didn’t run into a repeat of yesterday?”

  “Can we keep that to ourselves? I wasn’t supposed to let on. He told me to wait around for you and follow you up to the tax office. Apparently, you spilled your guts last night, not his words by the way, and he seems to feel some responsibility for you.” Thea looked me over with new interest. “Do you two have something going?”

  I almost choked on my own tongue. “Hardly. I thought maybe you and he … you know?”

  She looked horrified. “I already told you Dwayne and I are an item.”

  “Who’s Dwayne? You never mentioned Dwayne.”

  “Dwayne Rundell. Don’t you know him? He’s on the job too. We’re keeping it quiet, for now, or the other guys will make our lives a living hell.”

  “Mum’s the word. And you’re not carrying me down the stairs like a sack of carrots. So, thanks again. I’ll make it down on my own.”

  “Okay then, if you’re sure. Call me if you need anything.”

  I went back into the municipal office and stood at the counter until Alyce looked up at me, the inevitable tears pooling in her eyes. Ms. Melancourt had disappeared again.

  “I want to look at the lists of board members, Alyce. Can you pull that up for me on your computer?”

  Without prote
st, Alyce made a few efficient tapping motions, then turned the monitor to face me. She walked over to a desk in a far corner of the room and picked up the phone. I shrugged and reached for the mouse.

  I advanced through the various screens until I came to the Cemetery Board. Three members of the Friends of the Settlers were also on the Cemetery Board: Joy MacPherson, Elise Boudreau, and Fern Brickle. They would ensure the Friends had a free hand in the management of the Settlers’ Plot, including access and distribution of keys. I understood then how short-sighted it was to underestimate a gang of senior citizens.

  Nodding to Alyce, I shambled out to the hall. I put my hand on the newel post and prepared to take the first step.

  “Bliss!”

  The Weasel was steaming down the hall from his office, brows hooding his eyes like his Neanderthal pre-human ancestors, lips drawn back over unnaturally white teeth.

  I stepped away from the top of the stairs.

  Chapter

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  “What the fuck are you doing here again today?” The Weasel’s hands were curled into fists, clenching and unclenching.

  His dark eyes held a burning fury instead of the usual calculating coldness. Had he known my jacket still held his future secreted in the inner pocket, I believe he would have ripped it from me and shoved me down the stairs to my death. He may or may not be sorry afterward.

  I inched away until my back was against the wall.

  “I take it you’ve paid the taxes on the fifty-acre property.”

  “Guess you got the call from wee Alyce in there. Nice work, Mike, planting a mole in the tax office.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Alyce has worked here for two years.”

  “Really? Convenient. Well, I hope you have another wetland lined up to donate to the Province of Ontario. If it’s any consolation, the spotted turtles will be safe with me.” Whether they’d be safe with the Belcourts was a separate issue.

  “We can’t discuss these matters in the hall. Come back to my office.”

 

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