On a sad note, the brave and loyal Gussie seems to trigger distress in Jimmy now. A one-way trip to the Humane Society seems an inappropriate reward.
The media had a field day with the fall of the wonder boy, Nicholas Southern. Bit by bit, we are still piecing together what happened. We can only speculate that somehow Jimmy reacted in a panic when he first saw Southern in Sydney. Southern was quick enough to figure out why. I believe Southern thought he’d better nip that little PR problem right away. Perhaps someday Jimmy will be able to tell us if he recognized Southern as the bully or merely panicked without knowing why. Alvin thinks he might have reacted to Southern’s voice. Whatever it was, Southern wasn’t going to take a chance on word getting out. The one fact we are sure of: Nicholas is a much bigger story as a dead crazy than he ever was as a wannabe politician. Calls for stronger laws are loud and clear. Nicholas Southern would have approved.
P. J. got the scoop, and the scoop behind the scoop. Bad boy grows up and pretends to be good boy. Makes a lot of money. Fools lots of people. No names mentioned.
I knew giving P. J. the tip-off to interview Father Blaise about seeing Nicholas Southern in Sydney would add drama along with the story of the attack in the park. P. J. got some serious sound bites out of Donald Donnie and Loretta too. He even got some mileage out of an interview with René Janveau bemoaning his shattered Gadzooks Gallery. The heavily bandaged René made for a first-rate photo op too.
In the end, I was proud of P. J. His feature story revealed his own inadvertent role in keeping Southern up to speed on Jimmy’s whereabouts and our tactics through seemingly idle chit-chat. He didn’t go easy on himself.
We’re still not clear how much Honey Redmore knew about Southern. There’s not much chance we’ll ever prove Will was the second boy in the park. Alvin’s statement based on photos would be flimsy in court. Contact from the Redmore’s legal representative put a serious chill on that angle of P. J.’s coverage. But it’s funny how word spreads with journalists.
I’m not sure if things will be okay between P. J. and me. Ever. Some accusations you shouldn’t believe for a minute about a person. He knows it. I know it. And there’s not much I can do but wait and see.
Father Blaise went home to Sydney in a wheelchair, and he’ll probably stay in one for the rest of his life. He’s still as sharp as ever though, and he has helped to clear up some of the confusion about what happened. According to Deveau, Father Blaise has a clear memory of seeing Reefer Keefer arguing with Nicholas Southern in downtown Sydney on Canada Day. The local cops have equally clear memories of Reefer using embarrassing information about people as a source of supplementary income. That would explain a lot.
The ballistics test showed that Mombourquette’s bullet was the one that stopped Nicholas Southern. It’s administrative leave for him until theSIUreport comes back. If he had a life, he might enjoy that. But he doesn’t.
Alvin’s referral for therapy has come through. I thanked my doctor. Let’s hope it does the trick. Mrs. Parnell found him another apartment in Hull, which he has already begun work on decorating. He will be back at Justice for Victims. I will cope.
Deveau remained in town for the last four days of Bluesfest. I sat next to him through James Brown, Wilson Pickett and Little Feat. I spent the shows in a haze of painkillers. There’s something to be said for drugs and music. Sunglasses too, if both your eyes are black.
He stayed over at my place. In case I had a medical crisis in the night. Or had a nightmare. Or needed scrambled eggs in the morning. Or something.
He has a warm heart and cold feet. I believe there’s a song about that. At any rate, I guess he’s not with me for my looks.
Today is July 16 and Deveau has to go back to Sydney. His kids are coming home from music camp. He has a life. He has a job. He’s out of holiday time.
Mrs. Parnell has weathered it better than anyone. But then, war becomes her.
For me, I’ve been told to take it easy. I think Gussie and I will do that. Mrs. Parnell’s cat will have to stop sulking one of these days. I keep my feet up and stay on hold with the insurance company over the Buick.
The Fergusons have decided that I’m a good guy after all. They’ve taken to calling me collect twice a day. I have invested in Call Display. We now have seven days left until the rest of the MacPhee family returns from Scotland. The technical term for that will be Armageddon.
Mary Jane Maffini is a lapsed librarian, former co-owner of the Prime Crime Mystery Bookstore in Ottawa and author of the Camilla MacPhee series (the other books are Speak Ill of the Dead and The Icing on the Corpse.) She was a 2001 double nominee for the Crime Writers of Canada Arthur Ellis Awards for best short story. Her quirky characters have appeared in Storyteller Magazine, Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Over My Dead Body, Chatelaine and On Spec, as well as in the Canadian crime anthologies Iced, Best of Cold Blood, Menopause is Murder, Cottage Country Killers, Fit to Die (RendezVous Crime 2001) and Over the Edge. “Cotton Armour” in The Ladies Killing Circle won the Arthur Ellis Award for best short short story in 1995, and she was a 1999 finalist for best first novel for Speak Ill of the Dead.
She is currently president of the Crime Writers of Canada, a member of the Ladies’ Killing Circle and is working on more Camilla MacPhee novels.
The Camilla MacPhee Mysteries
Speak Ill of the Dead
Camilla MacPhee is the black sheep of her perfect, blonde family, although she runs a law office specializing in Justice for Victims of violent crimes. However, her uneasy association with the world of crime takes a bizarre turn when a vicious, vindictive fashion columnist with underworld connections named Mitzi Brochu is crucified in a downtown hotel room. The problem is that Camilla’s best friend Robin was on her way to meet the victim, and has become the main suspect.
ISBN 0-929141-65-2 $9.95 U.S / $11.95 in Canada
The Icing on the Corpse
It’s now forty below in Canada’s capital, but Camilla is feeling the heat. When a savage serial batterer goes on the rampage looking for revenge against his former girlfriend, the terrified woman turns to Camilla for help. But a sudden change of fortune causes her client to really feel the chill. Camilla wades into the investigation, now one of murder. Soon everyone connected with the case is either cooling their heels behind bars or trying to avoid cold storage in the morgue. Camilla’s really skating on thin ice looking for this killer—literally.
ISBN 0-929141-81-4. $10.95 U.S / $12.95 in Canada
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
1985
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
About The Author
The Camilla MacPhee Mysteries
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Little Boy Blues Page 29
