Law and Disorder

by Mary Jane Maffini

“Mrs. Kilpatrick was in the passenger seat. I think she was killed instantly. Her husband never got over it, and a month later he was dead too. It would have been their sixtieth anniversary on the day he died.”

  I glanced at the house and shook my head.

  She had begun to take stock of me, I saw her eyes flick from the dark jacket to the dark pants and back to the baseball cap. Not at all right for a pleasant June evening like this.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I am sorry to hear this. Good evening.” I tried to look normal, but I had a feeling that ship had sailed. I pretended briefly to continue my hunt for the mythical Rover. I could feel the woman’s eyes on my back as I turned the corner, shouting “Rover” once more for good luck.

  Mrs. Parnell never sleeps. It’s one of the things I love about her. I got back into the car as soon as the woman with the Bernese mountain dog disappeared, and I could stop pretending to be looking for my non-existent dog.

  “On the double, Ms MacPhee,” she said when I called and asked her to check on the Kilpatricks’ accident.

  “Thanks, can you call me as soon as you find out anything?”

  “I could email it to young Ferguson if there’s too much to convey by telephone. If you don’t mind waiting, I can see what I can discover with a quick search.”

  I ended the call and had just turned the key in the ignition when I was treated to the flash of rooflights and the whoop of a siren.

  “Good evening, officer,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

  “License and registration, ma’am,” the officer said.

  “Any particular reason?” I asked.

  “We have a report of a person of your description engaged in suspicious activity, ma’am.”

  “Really? And what exactly would a person of my description be? Out of curiosity, officer.”

  “Dark clothing, dark baseball cap shielding face. Engaged in the pretence of searching for a dog.”

  I refrained from asking him where they learned to talk in that alien way. I didn’t feel like ending up at the station again.

  “No law against looking for a dog,” I mentioned.

  “How about loitering with intent?” he said.

  “Ah. But I didn’t have intent, officer. Clearly.”

  “Not yet it isn’t clear, ma’am. License and registration, please.”

  He was actually pretty polite, if a bit wordy. I fished in my pocket for my wallet, pulled it out and extracted my driver’s license. “This may be an embarrassing moment for me,” I said. I opened the glove compartment and pulled out Mrs. Parnell’s registration and insurance packet. “This is actually my friend’s car, but I have borrowed it to do some errands.”

  “That so?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “You just stay put, ma’am, and I’ll check this out.”

  “Go right ahead. It’s not stolen, if that’s what you’re thinking. I can give you the owner’s telephone number.” Of course, he was out of hearing by then. I imagined he was waiting for me to make a break for it so he could have an exciting arrest or even activate his Taser. I used the time to call Mombourquette at home. Of course, he wasn’t at home, but I had better luck when I tried Elaine’s number.

  “I have half a mind to let them drag you in,” he said.

  “But that would be a travesty of justice, Leonard. Plays badly in the media, harassing citizens for sport.”

  The officer began his slow swagger back to the car, and said, “I need you to step out of the car, ma’am.”

  “Sure thing,” I said. “And I need you to talk to Sgt. Leonard Mombourquette of Major Crimes.”

  “You first, ma’am.”

  That whole thing would have gone better if Mombour-quette had had the basic decency to stay on the line.

  “That all sounds very embarrassing. Uncomfortable too. Of course, you can avoid incidents like that by not dressing up as a break-in artist and setting off the neighbourhood watchers,” Mombourquette said with a typical twitch of his whiskers as we walked out of police headquarters a very considerable time later.

  “Thank you, Ann Landers,” I said as we headed down Elgin Street.

  The June night was warm and once again humid. Elgin Street, just a few short blocks from the station, hummed with people, music and action. We dodged college boys walking three abreast, without regard to us old folks making our slow way along the sidewalk. Knowing Mombourquette the way I did, I wondered if those foolish kids realized the close call they’d just had. Of course, he had me in his sights at that particular moment.

  “You can thank me, MacPhee, because I took time away from Elaine to come down here and explain that you are not a criminal, even though you do a pretty good imitation of one. Lucky they didn’t keep you in.”

  “Last time I looked it wasn’t against the law to walk on a city street. And I already thanked you for coming in, maybe even twice, although it did take you long enough. And, by the way, when you say Elaine, would that be the same Elaine who is not supposed to have Roxanne Terrio mentioned to her?”

  “Don’t push that one too far, MacPhee.”

  “Let’s find a place to sit down and we can talk freely.” I headed into Fresco’s. A couple who had been seated at a table in front of the large windows open to the street rose to leave at just that moment. I like window seats. I always enjoy watching the crowds on Elgin and I often see former clients. A trip down memory lane so to speak. I scored the table. Mombourquette made that right with the hostess.

  Mombourquette got his mitts on two menus, squeezed into his chair and said, “Now that we’re out of earshot, do you want to tell me what you were doing there?”

  “Where?”

  “Now that’s just annoying, MacPhee.”

  “You don’t believe I was looking for my dog?”

  “The dog that’s been home all night with your office assistant? The one that’s not called Rover?”

  “You followed up on me, Leonard? For shame. You really should learn to trust people more.”

  He bristled. “People have been murdered. Do you think that’s a joke?”

  “I don’t actually. In fact, I am taking it much more seriously than you are. And I was checking something out.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Okay, you remember the young lawyer assisting Rollie Thorsten?”

  Mombourquette slapped the menu on the table. “Don’t drag this out, okay?”

  Our server arrived, and I ordered a diet cola, because I still had to get back, pick up Mrs. Parnell’s car and return it. Mombourquette had an Upper Canada Pale Ale.

  “Get on with it,” Mombourquette said when the server left.

  “He has withdrawn from the defence, although he’s the only person who really knows whatever final arguments and appeal strategies Thorsten was cooking up. I’m guessing he did all the work. It would have been a great chance to make a name for himself.”

  “He couldn’t really pull off a trial like that alone.”

  “Agreed, but he could have taken it to one of the other local stalwarts. Eisenberg or McCarrol, to name just two.”

  “And he didn’t. Get to the point.”

  “I figure Brugel wants yet another delay so he can frighten off any remaining witnesses, so he orchestrated it. This kid’s scared shitless. He was so nervous that he was dropping papers on the floor when I was talking to him.”

  “You can have that effect,” Mombourquette muttered.

  “Anyway, I figured his grandparents had been threatened. There was a picture of them, and there was something about the expression on his face when I noticed it.”

  Mombourquette rolled his eyes. “And they tell me that cops go off on tangents without evidence.”

  “I just wanted to get a look. See whether anyone was watching the house or if they seemed to be vulnerable.”

  “That was just plain dumb.”

  “I can see that now. Especially since the grandparents have been dead for more than a year.”

  �
�Oh. So you misunderstood the look on his face. Jumping to conclusions. Why am I not surprised?”

  “I wasn’t just jumping. I was pushed. I think Jamie Kilpatrick wanted me to think that.”

  “Hey, I’m glad that mind-reading hobby you took up is working out well for you, MacPhee.”

  “Cute. He deliberately misled me in a very subtle way. And I’d like to know why that was. Although I have a theory.”

  I glanced out the window at that moment and did a double-take. Was that Ashley and Brittany with a couple of lads? Indeed it was, their heads were thrown back in laughter. A good time was being had by all.

  “What the hell is it now, MacPhee?”

  “It’s—” Before I could say another word, Ashley happened to look my way, although it may have been Brittany. She elbowed her sister in the ribs, and they both turned and stared at Mombourquette. The two girls whispered something to each other, although why anyone would feel the need to do anything but shout on Elgin Street on a summer evening was beyond me.

  Belatedly, I waved. They gave a me a look that could have meant anything and moved along.

  “Who was that?” Mombourquette said.

  “Ray’s kids. They hate me.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  “And now apparently they hate you too, Leonard.”

  “Guilt by association. I must find myself some better associates.”

  “Do you think they’ll be all right here? I’m sure Ray doesn’t know they’re partying on Elgin Street.”

  “Aren’t they going to school in Halifax?”

  “Yes.”

  “Halifax is a real party town. Ray must have come to grips with that by now.”

  “I’m not so sure. He thinks they’re studying hard and training for the Olympics.”

  “MacPhee, give it a rest. Now back to this Fitzpatrick.”

  “Kilpatrick. Jamie Kilpatrick. I told you I think he misled me. He figured out that I thought he was afraid for his grandparents, and he decided to let me continue to think that.”

  “You complicate everything so much. Why the hell would this what’s-his-name want to mess with your head?”

  “My best guess? He knows something he shouldn’t. What if he actually spotted Rollie in his car with some associate of Brugel’s? Kilpatrick is smart enough to put two and two together, and he knows that if he says anything, he’ll be next.”

  “These are all speculations on your part. Let us take care of it. If Brugel’s threatening witnesses or even lawyers, we need to follow up. And as irritating as we in Major Crimes find you, we don’t want to end up investigating your murder. We have too much work as it is.”

  “That’s so sweet, Leonard. So you’ll check out my idea about Kilpatrick?”

  It was after midnight when I finally got home after returning Mrs. Parnell’s car and waiting a ridiculously long time for a taxi. Alvin greeted me with enthusiasm for once. “Did you hear the one about the parrot and burglar?”

  I held up my hand in the international symbol for “don’t want to listen to a joke.” I said, “Where are the girls?”

  “Practice, I guess,” he sniffed. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”

  “It’s after midnight, Alvin. If they’re practicing, it’s nothing to do with dragon boats. I saw them on Elgin Street.”

  He shrugged. “I think their teammates were going out for a drink after their session. So what? They’re young. They can have fun. They asked me to go with them, but I wanted to drop in to see Violet at the Perley.”

  “I’ll be glad when she’s home again,” I said, heading off for bed.

  “I almost forgot. Ray called. A couple of times. And someone else too.”

  I ignored the throb in my temple. It had been a long day and I didn’t want to lose my temper. “Who else called?”

  “It’s late. I can’t remember the name. It’ll come to me.”

  “Try to write down messages, Alvin,” I said with admirable calm.

  “Yeah, I did write it down. It’s around somewhere. When I find it, I’ll show it to you. Oh, it was that real estate woman. She wants to speak to you. She says it’s urgent.”

  “Fend her off, Alvin, and I’ll forgive your message-taking lapses.” That was the best I could get out of that conversation. I didn’t care. I didn’t really feel like talking to anyone anyway. Except for Ray. I crawled into bed and pressed 1 on my phone. That was automatically set to call Ray.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “You’re late,” he said.

  “Well, you know.”

  “Did you have a nice evening?”

  “No.” Was there something funny in his voice? Maybe he was just tired. It was an hour later down there. This didn’t seem like the best time to mention I’d spent another spell in the police station discussing my so-called loitering with intent.

  “Anything interesting happen?”

  “Not really. You?”

  “Nope.”

  I decided to change the subject. “Our real estate agent is still trying to hound us. I don’t know how to get rid of her. She keeps dropping in and leaving messages and getting Alvin in a flap.”

  “Did she do that while you were sitting in a bar with some guy?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You were seen.”

  I started to laugh. “Your kids ratted me out? That’s hilarious. I wasn’t going to spill the beans on them, and they call you and tell you this. I knew they didn’t really like me. They’re still trying to break us up after all these years.”

  “That’s not the case. They—”

  “Of course, I love it when you’re jealous. For the record, I was having a soft drink with your cousin Leonard.”

  “At midnight in a bar?”

  “Are you listening to me? Your cousin, Leonard? The least attractive man on the planet. No, better make that the—”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “No games, Camilla.”

  “Fine. There may have been a small misunderstanding about my presence in a certain neighbourhood and Leonard may have had to stick up for me at the cop shop. Nothing serious, really. Then we went off to have a chat. Don’t you feel silly now? Not that I don’t appreciate it and feel flattered. I didn’t squeal on your girls for partying with a crowd of drunken louts.”

  “Promise me that you are not going to get involved with anything dangerous,” Ray said. “Let me hear you say it.”

  “Sure thing. But make sure you get jealous for no reason every now and then. It’s good for my morale. I have a great big smile on my face. You should see it.”

  I wore that smile all night. I was lucky to have Ray. I might have been luckier if he hadn’t lived so far away, but I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather be with, even at a distance. With more luck, the girls would grow up, finish university and move to the States or even Europe. Maybe become astronauts. That was worth smiling about too.

  At three o’clock, I woke up in the middle of a dream about Brugel. For some reason, in a serious betrayal by my subconscious mind, I found myself in court defending him against a brace of new charges. “I’m innocent, as you know,” he kept saying.

  My eyes popped open and the dream stayed fresh in my mind. Innocent? Lloyd Brugel? Not bloody likely. I knew he was guilty of the charges he was facing, and I was pretty sure he’d be convicted. Did the dream mean anything?

  By some astounding possibility, was Brugel not the bad guy here? What the hell was my subconscious up to? Just making trouble?

  It was nearly ten in the morning when I thundered into the kitchen. No sign of the two girls who had been so keen to undermine my relationship with their father.

  Alvin picked up where he left off.

  “Good afternoon,” he said. “This will creep you out. So this burglar breaks into a house in the middle of the night. He’s tiptoeing through a dark room when he hears this eerie parrot voice saying, ‘Jesus is watching you’.”

  “Not in the
mood for a: burglars b: parrots c: jokes. Especially this week, Alvin. You should be able to understand that.”

  In fact, I knew the joke. It had circulated to great merriment a few years back. I left that out of my comments. Alvin was looking crushed enough, and I was beginning to realize that sometimes I might be a bit rough on him. He sniffed and turned away. I watched his skinny back as he retreated to the kitchen.

  “Fine, I take it back.” I called out kindly. “I’m sorry. Tell your stupid joke, if it makes you happy.”

  At least three minutes passed before Alvin swanned back in and started the joke from the beginning as I bit my tongue. The burglar in this particular joke was pretty snotty, nothing like Bunny.

  “Hang on,” I said, as a feeling of dread swept over me. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. “Where did this joke come from? The internet?”

  Alvin shook his head. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit too busy lately to waste my time looking for jokes on the computer.”

  “Tell me it’s from a joke book.”

  “If I don’t have time to look up jokes on the net, what would make you think I would go get a joke book? So let me ask you a question, Camilla. Where have we been getting our jokes lately?”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Well, yeah. Except it’s a bit different from the others. It’s not a question and answer sort of a joke and...”

  “It’s a burglar, Alvin. What part of that is unclear to you?”

  Alvin pouted. I ignored him and reached for the receiver which was naturally nowhere near the phone. Instead of hunting for it, I whipped out my cell and pecked out the number of Bunny’s number. Pick up, I thought, pick up pick up. Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, where are you?

  I snapped it closed and tried again. And again. Was he out? Was he avoiding calls? Was he somewhere with blocked reception? My heart thundered. Or was he already dead? That joke ended with a Rottweiler called Hey-soose, which was very bad news for the burglar. Not remotely funny in my opinion, but I asked myself how could that translate into danger for Bunny? What was the joke connection?

  “Dogs, Alvin. How could they kill you?”

  “What?”

  “In the joke, the burglar is about to meet Jesus, pronounced Hey-soose, like the Spanish pronunciation. Only Hey-soose turns out to be a Rottweiler. Okay, dog dangers, fast.” I snapped my fingers.