The Icing on the Corpse

by Mary Jane Maffini

  No matter what kind of situation you find yourself in with Mombourquette, you always have to be careful not to corner him. “I never expected you to believe in love.”

  “What do you mean? Of course I believe in love—I'm human.”

  “Well, hey, I'm certainly human.”

  “Good thing you told me, Camilla. It sure doesn't show.”

  I felt like reaching out my icy Sorel and stepping on his tail.

  “Okay, Leonard, forget the wedding. I'm on another project. Saving Elaine Ekstein from a life sentence.”

  Did I imagine his pale gray complexion turned a soft dusty rose? I wasn't about to let up. “So. You think she did it? I mean Elaine is an extraordinarily bad driver. She does have a serious record of traffic tickets, even though she pays them, and this criminal life is a slippery slope. It doesn't take much to move on from parking under a No Parking sign in front of City Hall to fast-freezing the bodies of your enemies and plunking them in parks as part of a ceremonial display.”

  Sure, I talked smart, but he had me worried. If the evil wedding spirits could get to Mombourquette, no one was safe. But I had other fish to fry. “My calculations tell me you didn't have that surveillance tape in your hot little hands before you rousted us at Lindsay's.”

  I liked the way he couldn't quite meet my eye.

  “Right, so what made you and McCracken focus on Elaine?”

  He stared down at the table.

  “Hmm?”

  He fiddled with a package of sugar.

  “Intuition, maybe?”

  He shook his head.

  “Let me guess, you consulted a psychic?”

  The sugar packet ripped. “We got a call.”

  “How convenient. It didn't occur to anyone the caller might want to put Elaine in the frame?” I did not suggest Elaine was wacky enough to place the call herself. Why buy trouble?

  “Of course it occurred to us,” he said.

  “The rest of your colleagues seem happy to think Elaine did it. And tickled pink to charge her.”

  He shook his head. “Pressure from up the line.”

  “Maybe it's the same place up the line that made sure the evidence against Benning didn't hold up in all those earlier charges?”

  He shrugged. I took it as a maybe.

  “What's the grudge against Elaine, anyway?”

  “I think she made our lives miserable about a lot of cases. Particularly in spousal abuse cases where charges were dropped against batterers because of evidence problems. And she was always agitating for public inquiries and demanding official apologies.”

  I nodded. “That's our girl.”

  Mombourquette said, “Anyway, she made plenty of enemies. Inside the force and out.”

  I had to agree. “Any names?”

  “Be serious.”

  “What about the officers outside the house? You think one of them was involved with Benning in some way?” I was careful not to get Alexa into the soup.

  “They weren't in on it.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Trust me.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Look, this will come out eventually, but those three officers were drugged. They were still knocked out when we arrived.”

  “All of them?”

  “What? Yes, all of them.”

  “How do you know one of them wasn't left awake?”

  “If one had been awake, don't you think they would have reported the others passed out?”

  “Not if that was part of the plan to get rid of Benning. Maybe he left his sleeping colleagues, stole Elaine's clothes, lifted her keys when we were out cold, then killed Benning and dumped him.”

  Mombourquette was on his feet. Red as a fresh bottle of ketchup.

  I said, “That Constable James, he's a wiry little guy, not much bigger than Elaine, with a collar up over that mustache, he could pass. He could have slipped out while the others were knocked out. A cop could probably get his mitts on Rohypnol easily.”

  “Rohypnol? Who said anything about that?”

  Oops.

  “How'd you hear about the Rohypnol?”

  “Just speculation. Why? Did I get it in one?”

  “Get this, Camilla—”

  “You might want to be careful raising that finger, Leonard. You could find it gets caught in a trap.” That was going nowhere. I tried another tactic. “So, I'm about to head over to the Regional Detention Centre. Hell of a place, although I don't expect you law enforcement officers to agree. It's great to keep the streets safe, but it's sure not the best environment for Elaine.”

  “I know. She's way too gentle to be locked up there with those animals.”

  Gentle? “Yes, I would hate to have anything happen to her because you guys fingered her to cover someone a little closer to home.” Double gotcha.

  “We didn't.”

  “Then why would anyone even try to press charges? No matter how they feel about her personally.”

  “Earth to Camilla. Didn't Elaine tell the world she did it?”

  True enough. “So what?” If I didn't know better, I'd have said that Mombourquette's face was wracked with anguish.

  “You got gas, Leonard?”

  Mombourquette shrugged into his jacket. “I got something else. I got news for you. You let your innocent client speak for herself in front of television cameras, and she'll end up convicted. They won't even have to go to trial.”

  “Tell me something I don't know.” But I was speaking to his retreating back. I noticed he'd stuck me with the check.

  When the going gets tough, the tough get going. So the tough were getting going, but first the tough had better mobilize a few ground soldiers.

  “Alvin,” I said, when I pushed open the door to Justice for Victims. The fragrance of coconut suntan lotion filled the air.

  “Weather is here, wish you were beautiful,” he sang.

  My tolerance for Jimmy Buffett songs was slight at the best of times, which this was not. But I smiled brightly anyway.

  “Your decor is really starting to make a difference.” I referred to the small palm tree on my desk chair as well as the beach scene painted on the window of Justice for Victims.

  Common sense told me I should have a close look at the painting before any clients showed up. But where did common sense ever get me in dealing with Alvin?

  “Welcome back to Margaritaville,” he said.

  “This approach will certainly make the long winter days fly by.”

  “No,” he said.

  “No what?” I wished it could be no palm trees, no window paintings, no Jimmy Buffett, no eau de coconut.

  “No. No, nay, never, nein, nyet, nada, non, nix, ixnay.”

  I moved the palm from my chair to his and sat down.

  “Right, so that's settled. Here's what I'd like you to do.”

  “What part of ixnay don't you understand, Camilla?”

  “Here's the drill, Alvin.”

  “Not for me.” Rays from the paper sun taped over my desk lamp glinted off his cat's eye sunglasses.

  “We're going to find out who set up Elaine.”

  “You won't get me involved in a plan to implicate Lindsay, if that's what you're up to. Forget it.”

  I was a jump ahead of him this time. “You're right, Alvin. And you will remember that Lindsay is a client of mine. Mine, Alvin. Mine. All mine. And that I care about what happens to her and care deeply too. You will also remember that I arranged for Merv to watch over her and keep her safe from Benning.”

  Alvin's thin lips pursed. “Merv. He thinks he's God's gift.”

  “You said it, Alvin.”

  “He's keeping Lindsay away from everyone else.”

  “Ah, well, it's Merv's disposition to be a boil on the backside of humanity.” I needed to give Alvin his marching orders and get the show on the road. “As soon as we get this mess cleared up, Lindsay's life will be back to normal, and I'll remind her of everything you did.”


  Alvin frowned.

  I added, “By which I mean, let's find out who killed Benning mondo quicko.”

  “No way, Camilla. You think Lindsay did it, and you want me to be a party to getting her arrested and I won't do it.”

  My fingers twitched. “Of course you won't, Alvin. And I'm not asking you to. You and Merv are both right. Lindsay is a victim, and of course she couldn't have killed Benning. But surely you don't think Elaine is guilty.”

  He turned his head. “I guess not. Although she did say she was. But that's Elaine, right?”

  “Right. So if she didn't kill Benning, then who did?”

  “Not…”

  “Don't worry, not Lindsay.” I put my hand to my nose in case it was getting longer.

  “But you were going on about that sweater and insinuating that she was guilty.”

  “Look, Lindsay left the house that night while we slept. Some of her clothes are missing, plus her wet boots were in the entrance in the morning. I need to know why.”

  “I won't do anything to harm her.”

  “That's the point, Alvin. Benning must have enticed her somehow, and we need to know who and what she saw. If Lindsay is a witness to any part of what happened, then she's in danger herself.”

  “You mean someone could try to hurt her?”

  “Think about it. We've been so worried about Benning, and now that he's dead we figure it's all over. But somebody killed him, and if it wasn't Elaine or Lindsay, who was it? And what will he do next?”

  Alvin nodded. “I never thought Elaine did it, but she's a lot tougher than Lindsay.”

  “Don't go there, Alvin. If Elaine actually gets to trial, as her lawyer, I have an obligation to throw suspicion on others. I'll have to subpoena Lindsay. She'll be on trial even if she's never charged.”

  “I guess you're right.”

  “Yup. So, since the police and the Crown are being their usual obstructionist selves, here's what we do. You chase down Rina Benning's relatives and see if any of them might have been in a position to finish off Benning. While you're at it, check out Lindsay's family.”

  “They've never given her a moment's support. They cut her off when she took up with Benning. You know that.”

  “Maybe something happened to change that situation.”

  “Hey, where will you be while I'm doing all the work?”

  “I'll be checking out the police, my dear Watson.”

  Fifteen

  Look. I just called to apologize, Conn. I guess I've been a bit hard-nosed lately. But I am going to pick out a dress. Probably later today. Check with Alexa, she'll confirm we've already made a start. We're heading to Holt's in a handbasket. I'm being held up a bit because I have to research the exact timing of the arrival of the late Mr. Benning in Confederation Park on the night of his demise.”

  “You'll get all the information you're entitled to in plenty of time to prepare for the preliminary hearing, unless of course, your client continues to plead guilty, and then you won't need it at all. I hope you aren't asking me for information outside the normal channels. Again.” Conn McCracken's voice had an edge, but then it so often does.

  “Certainly not. I don't know how you can even suggest such a thing. I would like your special day to go perfectly. But until I get the timing of the murder nailed down, I'm not free to shop, even though I know how important it is. I'm sure, you, as a seasoned investigator, will understand my priorities.”

  “You must think I'm stupid,” Conn said. “You get off your arse and stop upsetting your sister and get that dress before I start dusting off your files. Might find unpaid parking tickets, information on cases in the dead files, attempts to extort information from an officer of the law. Get my drift?”

  I got it.

  I figured Mombourquette might take a different view.

  “No can do,” he said, when I phoned.

  “Hey, no hard feelings. I was hoping I could find out the time Benning was deposited in the Crystal Garden, then I could make a better case to help Elaine. It must be torment for her in the RDC, but what the hey, she brought it on herself by confessing. I think I'll give the case a rest until after the wedding. I should be out buying an outfit to wear anyway.”

  “The wedding's not until the 14th. You mean you're going to let Elaine wait until then?”

  “What can I do? My family's on my back. You don't know what that's like. But trust me, no options here.”

  “I'm beginning to learn about that,” he said mysteriously. “But even so, I don't think you can let your client just hang.”

  “Oh, she won't hang, Leonard,” I chuckled. “Twenty-five years without parole's the worst that can happen to our girl.”

  I swear to God he gasped before he said, “Just after two. Off the record, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  Okay, so I was stopped. I couldn't proceed to build any defence without key information: for instance, what exactly did the police know about the state of Benning's body when it was found. On the videotape, you could clearly see the kneeling figure of Benning encased in ice.

  But a body wouldn't freeze solid in a few minutes. These things take time. Plus they take facilities. Benning had been over six feet tall and at least one-eighty. It would take a full chest freezer to do a number on him. I figured it had been somewhere around eleven p.m. when the gang at Lindsay's, and the cops guarding us, had conked out.

  Three hours. I can't get ice cubes to freeze that fast.

  Unless Benning's body had lost all its warmth, would a coating of ice even stay frozen? In order to make the case against Elaine, the cops would have to demonstrate that three hours was enough time to find Benning, kill him, decorate him for the ice sculpture, load the van, assuming she had one in the first place, and drop the body off at the WAVE section of the Crystal Garden.

  What's more, if Lindsay had gone out to meet someone, it couldn't have been Benning. So something didn't make sense.

  I wouldn't expect much luck getting McCracken to give me the info I needed. I might do okay with Mombourquette, but I'd need to play my cards right. In the meantime, I needed to know how long it would take to get a body to freeze like that and under what conditions. Then I had to work back in time to demonstrate that Elaine couldn't have killed him. Piece of cake, you'd think. But until I lucked into that info, I was stopped.

  I don't like being stopped. I put a call in to the pathology department of the Ottawa Hospital and asked for Dr. Harry Varty. Just my luck, Dr. Varty was down with bronchitis. Apparently, the latest strain of the flu had decimated the staff.

  “It's a horrible winter,” the assistant at the path lab said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I'll leave him the message, but we don't expect him to be on his feet before next week.”

  For some reason, she didn't want to give me his home number. What the hell, I figured, another brick wall.

  Speaking of brick walls, I gave P. J. a call. He was always plugged into what was happening. If I could reach him and stay on the ball, there was a small chance I could get a bit more information about the case than I'd reveal. I left a message on his voice mail asking if we were still supposed to go skating with his sister's kids. Or was it too damn cold?

  I also left a message for Alvin suggesting he check the medical sciences library for information on the effects of freezing on humans. I also wanted to have a look at exactly what else might have been going on at the site where the videotape captured the deposit of Benning's body. While I was at it, maybe I could clear up who'd had access to the coffee and the pizza and who could have lifted Elaine's coat and hat.

  “What hat?” The look of utter serenity on Elaine's heartshaped face didn't match the small stark legal interview room at the RDC. She had also said “what coat?”

  The session would have been a write-off if she hadn't slipped and answered one of my questions. Turned out the coffee had been left, in the thermoses, in the SUV, outside the Colonnade, while she picked u
p the pizzas. Of course, the SUV was locked. Did I think she was demented?

  “Look,” I said, “don't push me on this. Do you think I have nothing better to do with my life than to watch my friends get saddled with murder charges?”

  “Do you?”

  “Well, yes I do, Elaine. Lots.”

  “Like what? You have no life at all outside of Justice for Victims. Since last spring, you're grouchier than ever.”

  “I have no life? This is not about me. It's about you, Elaine.”

  “Well, then why did you ask me if I thought you had nothing better to do?”

  “I was making the point that you are wasting time. Yours. Mine. The justice system's. Everybody's time is getting seriously squandered here. If you leave out the media field day, the only person who benefits is the guilty party.”

  “But I have explained to you that I am the guilty party.”

  “Put a sock in it, Elaine. Someone killed that asshole and with good cause. And we both know it wasn't you.”

  “Well, holy moly, if it wasn't me, I certainly couldn't tell you who it was.” She gazed up at the ceiling.

  I watched my hands, afraid if I took my eyes off them they'd wrap themselves around her neck and squeeze.

  “I'm not suggesting you know who killed him. But since someone who looked a lot like you wheeled a body out of a van and into the Crystal Garden on a dolly, I have to ask questions, and since the someone was wearing what looked a lot like your faux fur hat and coat, I have to ask myself if you are protecting someone. Say someone who had access to your clothing. My question is, are you? And if so, who?”

  She looked surprised. “My leopard hat and coat? Why? They were locked in the SUV.”

  “Listen, you were wearing your parka at Lindsay's. It was still there in the morning. Yet the video shows you wearing the coat and hat. You claim they were locked in the SUV. So tell me, did you change outside when it was minus thirty-five? And then change back again? And why?”

  She didn't miss a beat. “Sure I did. They don't call me The Ice Queen for nothing.”

  She was enjoying this far too much, especially the media habit of calling her the Ice Queen. I had a half-baked theory she might be protecting someone else at WAVE, but the more I looked at her grin, the more I wondered if I'd ever extract the truth from her.