Merv said “holy shit” once more for good luck.
Merv deposited Lindsay on the sofa in the living room. But even after she lifted her head from the butter-soft leather, things continued to go wrong.
“It's okay,” I said, “we're here with you. Everything's going to be all right.”
“No. Nothing is ever going to be all right. Ever.”
“Sure it is. Every cop in town is on the lookout for him.”
Lindsay struggled to sit up. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Remember what happened to Rina? Living in that secure building. She thought she was safe. We're talking about a man who broke out of police custody. What could be more secure?”
“They'll get him. In the meantime, we'll stay with you. The police will be here soon, and we can move you to somewhere safer.”
“I'll never feel safe.”
“Sure you will. Once he's back in custody, they'll take extra measures. This can't last long. And we won't leave you alone.”
“Fight or flight, isn't that what they call our two basic reactions to fear? Well, I've had the flight reaction, and you know what, it's hell. I'm his prisoner. As long as he's breathing, my life is not worth living.”
“Your life is worth living,” Merv said.
“Merv's right, Lindsay. That's just your nerves talking. And I understand how you feel. But this isn't a typical situation here.”
“You do not know how I feel. You're so confident. So sure that things will be all right. You haven't lived in hell like I have. You can't even imagine what it does to your brain.”
“I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.” She was right. Every now and then I give myself away. I know the theory about the effect of abuse on the personality. I just don't feel it in my bones.
“I'm not going on the run. I'll stay in my own home.”
“Holy shit.”
“Shut up, Merv. Listen, Lindsay, that would make a lot of sense, normally, but this situation is not normal.”
“I know. Ever since I met Ralph, my life has not been normal. And as long as he's alive, it won't ever be.”
“You won't be away long. This is just temporary. They'll have him back behind bars, and they'll throw away the key.”
“I'd give anything to believe that, Camilla. If he can escape from custody here, he can escape from a maximum-security institution. He can escape from anywhere. I'll never be safe. So I have to live my life anyway.” The fine chin seemed even more pointed. Her hazel eyes were steady and calm. She reminded me of some sweet sainted virgin, strolling serenely to her martyrdom.
“Fine.” I didn't mean fine at all. “But I'm staying with you.”
She shook her head. “You should use your time to boost the Crown's case. Plus, two small women, what could we do?
Neither one of us will have a chance.”
I hate this kind of thinking. But I had to admit Benning had at least one gun. Plus it had been less than nine months since I'd fought for my life with a killer. I wasn't sure how well I'd cope in the same circumstance. But it wasn't like I had a choice.
“Okay, there's safety in numbers. So we need reinforcements. Merv's here. And we can get other people. I think the danger period, if they don't pick him up first, will be in the night. Elaine will come over, for sure. What about if Alvin joins us until they capture Benning?”
Lindsay opened her mouth, but the strangled sounds came from Merv. “Alvin? That little peckerhead? I don't think so, Camilla.”
I always find myself defending Alvin from other people. “Alvin thinks the world of Lindsay. He'd lay down his life for her.”
“That Alvin is just so sweet,” Lindsay said. “But no one should put themselves at risk for me. I created this situation by getting involved with Ralph. I don't want to drag anyone else into it.”
Interesting. I thought I caught a glimpse of the woman Lindsay must have been in her pre-Benning life.
“Fair enough.” I played for time. “But have you even contemplated…” Before I had time to figure out what she should have contemplated, Merv stretched his long legs and stood.
“You can't defend yourself against someone like Benning. And you don't have to. This is not happening because of anything you did.” He looked way down at Lindsay. She tilted up at him. “I'll be here until you're safe,” he said.
It didn't matter what I thought. It didn't matter what I did. It didn't matter that I was there.
“All right,” Lindsay said.
“So that's settled.” I'd like to think they noticed, but I know damn well they didn't.
A few phone calls later, I still hadn't tracked down P. J. That was no great surprise; he'd be chasing the action. I left Merv's cell number. I wasn't giving Lindsay's number to anyone. P. J. might have been my buddy, but he was a reporter first, and I never forgot that.
I had better luck finding out where Alvin was being questioned. I had to get him off the hook, but I had a problem. I could hardly take Merv's car. He'd never let Alvin park his bum in it, and I didn't think I could wrestle the keys from him. It was too goddam cold to walk anywhere with those useless boots. My car would have been impounded after its brush with the gates at 24 Sussex. The taxi dispatcher sneeringly informed me a car would take an hour.
When Lindsay's phone rang, I answered it. Force of habit.
“Camilla? It's Elaine. Holy moly, I'm glad you're there. Alvin left me these hysterical messages. I've been to the police, and I'm on my way. They're sending a couple of cars immediately.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Listen, no one answers in your office. I tried your cellphone. Don't you ever pick up your messages? Is Lindsay all right?”
I filled her in on the situation, omitting Merv's reactions. She offered to drive me to the Leomont Building to get Alvin, to resolve any outstanding issues with the Mounties, starting with the Commissioner, and to make sure our lad was not traumatized.
“We have to wait until the police get here,” I said.
“That shouldn't take long. Poor Alvin. He has such a hard time.”
Once again, I bit my tongue.
I jumped when Merv soundlessly arrived behind me. “Good news item number one: she's sleeping,” he whispered.
I raised my eyebrows. Not because Lindsay could fall sleep—that was no surprise with her system clogged with sedatives—but there was just something about Merv tiptoeing around like a nervous auntie.
“Good news item number two: the Ottawa guys are here.” I followed him back through the living room to the front window. A cruiser, with two officers, was parked conspicuously in front of the townhouse. “There's another car in the back,” Merv said.
“They're taking it seriously. Usually it's one cop per cruiser.”
“They're taking it seriously all right. They did everything but run a DNA test on me.”
“But you're RCMP.”
“Jurisdictions, remember? No reason for a member of the force, even one on sick leave, to be here. They don't like weird stuff.”
“You'd think they'd be happy to have someone trained in security in the house looking out for Lindsay.”
“Yeah, yeah. They're cops, Camilla. They're never happy. But anyway, I passed the test. I don't hold out much hope for you, though.”
“Funny.”
Less than ten minutes later, when Elaine's SUV crested the snow bank in front of Lindsay's place, I forced myself to take a deep breath and head out. Elaine was in fine form, metres of tightly curled red hair sproinging out in all directions from under a fake leopard fez. Not an easy effect to carry off.
“I'll go in and see Lindsay first,” she said as I climbed into her SUV.
“She's out cold. Give her an hour or so.”
“Holy moly,” she said, “out cold. I don't blame her.”
“Drugs,” I said.
“What else is she going to do? Was she awake when you arrived?”
“Yes. Which reminds me, did she call you this morning and tell you ab
out Benning?”
“No. The first I heard of it was Alvin's message. Who could believe that bastard's loose again?”
I must have had a look on my face.
“Come on, Camilla, don't start feeling guilty.”
“I don't know. If I'd done a better job on the brief to the Parole Board last spring, he wouldn't have been paroled and attacked his wife, and we wouldn't have this whole situation.”
“Get over it. Remember? You were caught up in a murder investigation. Benning's nothing but trouble and always has been. It's not you. It's not her. It's not the wife. It's him. Plain and simple.”
I gasped, less from self-insight than from the SUV spinning toward the canal as we made an illegal U-turn and didn't quite connect with the road.
“Don't be so jumpy,” Elaine said. “This guy's making you nuts.”
“Of course he is.” The little pine-tree deodorizers danced with each swerve Elaine made.
“But Merv will be a match for him.”
“I guess so.”
“I know so. Who'd argue with him? Didn't you tell me once he had special training when he was doing security stuff?”
“But he's nearly fifty years old, with a wonky gall bladder that acts up when he's under stress.”
“So what? Wasn't he a bodyguard for the Prime Minister?”
“That was then. This is now.”
“You don't lose that kind of training. Lindsay's in safe hands with Merv. Anyway, the police will pick Benning up any minute. Okay, we need to rescue Alvin.” She gunned the engine as we skidded along.
“Let me use your phone. I want to leave another message for P. J. just in case…”
“No problem.”
“Thanks, Elaine.”
“What's to thank? After all, you've helped me plenty.”
I gasped again as the SUV veered intimately close to the side of the road. “I have? Like what?”
“Like working on our sculpture.”
“What sculpture?”
Elaine applied the brakes, sending us into a one hundred and eighty-degree spin. I shrieked. I believe the driver in the oncoming lane did too.
I was still jumpy a minute later.
“Don't carry on so much,” Elaine said. “You shouldn't say ‘what sculpture’ if you don't want a reaction.”
This definitely wasn't the right time to tell Elaine I had no idea what sculpture. “You're right,” I said. “It's too important.”
“It is.”
“So, do you have a plan?” This was a safe bet because Elaine always had a plan.
“Natch,” she said.
“Of course. Watch out for the salt truck!” Merging onto the Queensway with Elaine is not something I ever want to repeat. Thank God, we were just one exit away from the Vanier parkway.
“You're not the easiest person to drive with, Camilla. You know that? It's your tendency toward theatricality.”
“No doubt you're right.” I pulled myself up from where I'd slid under my seat belt. “And so the plan for the sculpture hasn't changed?”
“No. Why should it?”
Why I was so worried? After all, how much of a problem could a sculpture be? A bit of art. A spin to Montreal to some retrospective at the musée? No big deal. Especially if I drove. Alvin's collision with the wrought-iron gates of Rideau Hall meant my car was out of commission, but I could rent. Problem solved. I felt flooded with relief, in part because we were already off the Queensway.
“Camilla? Are you listening? Why should it?”
“No reason. Just asking. Elaine. Red light. Red light! Oh, well.”
“Hey, you don't like it when I slam on the brakes, so you'll have to control yourself if we're in an advanced yellow light stage when we reach an intersection. Okay?”
If we hadn't immediately accelerated to seventy, I would have removed myself from the SUV at this point and finished the conversation by phone.
“Okay?” Elaine is not one to give up.
“I'll try to control myself if you try to stop for red lights.”
“You never let go, do you? So anyway, for the sculpture, tonight's the night.”
“Great.”
“I hope it warms up a bit,” she said.
“Well, what difference does it make?”
She gave me a bit of a strange look.
“Please keep your eyes on the road.” I watched as a pedestrian dove into a snowbank.
“We'll meet in Confederation Square.”
“What?”
“We'll meet in Confederation Square at seven, I guess.”
“Call me crazy, but given the winterness of it all, why don't we meet inside?”
“Why would we meet inside?”
“Because it will be cold outside?”
“And where will we build the sculpture?”
Almost blew my cover. “Oh, right.”
“Exactly.”
“Hmmm.”
“Confederation Square, seven o'clock. Bring your own bucket.”
I hardly noticed the rapid approach of the bus.
“Relax, we owe her big-time. She drove me here to pick you up and waited patiently for the cops to finish with you, hours might I add. Plus she made a few effective phone calls on your behalf, or you might have been spending the night. Aren't you happy to get out of here?” I said as I accompanied Alvin through the foyer of the Leomont Building under the watchful eye of security.
“What? Are you deranged? It doesn't matter whether I'm happy, I won't do it.” Alvin's ponytail flipped in protest.
“Alvin, let's settle this here. I don't want to argue in front of Elaine, who is doing you a favour. I thought you liked her.”
“I do like her, but this has been a crappy day for me, and I'm not going to spend the night in the park.”
“No buts, Alvin.”
“Plenty of buts. I have been grilled by the Gestapo. My name will be on file forever. If I drop a candy wrapper on the street, I'll probably serve hard time. Of course, my name was already on file with the Ottawa police. Let's see. Why would that be? Oh yes, that was a result of another one of your great ideas, Camilla. So, I think I've done enough for you and Justice for Victims today. And if Lindsay's safe, I want to relax. I don't need to work overtime.”
“You do now.”
“It's bad enough I'm still out in public in your clothes. Here, take your stupid hat back. All I want to is to go home and forget all about today.” His pointed nose was aimed at the ceiling, always a bad sign. “And what's more, you had no business telling Elaine I would help out with this project.”
I couldn't tell Alvin I had no recollection of volunteering either of us to work on an ice sculpture for Winterlude. None. It was hard to explain, but Elaine can have that effect. “Lighten up, Alvin, it should be a lot of fun.”
“If it's so much fun, don't let me deprive you of any of it.”
“Listen, Alvin…”
“The last time I listened to you I had my nose mashed against the gate at 24 Sussex. Then I met two large Mounties with small brains and big guns. I don't think I'll listen again. Thanks anyway.”
I decided it was better not to mention that Alvin's copious nosebleed after the accident had spelled the end of my parka. “Wait a minute. I thought you wanted to help Lindsay.”
“I did want to help Lindsay. But I'm not sure how much it helped her to toss me to the wolves.”
“I'm sure Lindsay will appreciate what you did. It was your way to combat Benning. And that's what this ice sculpture event is all about. You have to admit it's a worthwhile cause. Women Against Violence Everywhere plans to raise awareness of issues of domestic violence with it.”
“Raise this.” Alvin lifted his skinny middle finger.
Seven
It was pushing five thirty and dark again when Elaine dropped me at my apartment building. My lousy mood was compounded by the fact that Elaine and Alvin had sulked all the way to Alvin's place. But that was small potatoes compared to the fact that Ralph
Benning remained on the loose.
Since I hadn't eaten all day, my plan was to snatch a bite, take a quick bath, then toss a few essentials into a suitcase. With Benning still at large, Merv and I would take shifts on alert throughout the night at Lindsay's. I didn't see how Benning could get past the police guard, but if he was going to make an attempt, he'd almost certainly do it in the dead of night. Having to do guard duty at Lindsay's relieved me of ice sculpture commitments, but it would take more than that to let me relax.
I skulked into the elevator and headed for the sixteenth floor.
Some people you don't want to run into after a hellish day. My neighbour, Mrs. Parnell, is at the top of the list. Mrs. Parnell had not learned to mind her own business in the first seventy-seven years of her life, and I didn't have much hope she'd start now. I barreled down the long hallway with my head down. I smelled the smoke before I spotted the glowing tip of her cigarette.
“Ah, Ms. MacPhee.” Mrs. Parnell leaned forward on her walker. “What an outfit. I must say, you look even less fashionable than usual. Still, it is nice to see you.”
“Nothing is nice,” I said.
A waft of Benson and Hedges smoke tickled my nose. “Can't be that bad, Ms. MacPhee.” You can always count on Mrs. Parnell to take the opposite point of view.
“Can be and is.” My frozen toes contributed to the bitchy tone in my voice. As did the news that the damage to my car would be at least two thousand dollars. Plus, my insurance company thought driving into metal gates to avoid death constituted “at fault” on Alvin's part. And I'd been indiscreet when a newswire reporter caught me on the cellphone in a weak moment on the way home. I did not want to socialize.
But avoiding Mrs. Parnell was one of those camel through the eye of a needle situations. If I hadn't owed my life to the woman, I would have told her to go to hell on the spot.
“Nothing a taste of sherry wouldn't fix,” she said evilly.
I know when I'm licked. Bite the bullet, get it over with. If I didn't want to feel Mrs. Parnell's stainless-steel eyes trained on my door for the rest of the evening, I'd have to have a sherry with her and fill her in.
The Icing on the Corpse Page 5
