She wagged her manicured nail at me. “Maybe it's not interesting, but it is a lie. You should at least get your facts straight if you're going to prevaricate.”
“What do you mean, get my facts straight?”
“This is Ottawa, remember. Everyone knows everyone. I grew up in Westboro with P. J. He lived half a block away, and I even used to babysit for him. He's an only child. He doesn't have any nephews. You'll have to do better, Camilla.”
I could feel my heart thumping. Had P. J. lied to me? Set me up? She had to be wrong. But what if she were right?
Mia wrinkled her forehead and ran her fingers through her blonde bob. As an attempt to appear concerned, it might earn her two out of five points. “Camilla, shouldn't you get a serious job? I remember when you were ambitious. When Paul was alive. Now you're always in trouble. I don't want to tell you how to live your life, but why do you want to bang your head against another wall? That is so non-productive.”
“Silly me. But back to your career move. Maybe we can get together more often now that you won't have to worry about conflict of interest because of my involvement with controversial cases like Elaine Ekstein's.”
You could practically hear her alarm bells. “I thought you weren't involved with the case any more.”
“Well, I'm not. But people keep giving me information despite this. Who'll be taking over the case after you leave?”
“I don't even have this case. I'm assisting. But you have to pass on information. You know the rules, Camilla. You can't keep relevant details to yourself.”
“You see my problem, I'm supposed to keep my nose out of the case. I could get my bail revoked. This information is tricky.”
She checked her attractive gold watch and stood up. “Oops, time to go. What do you want from me, Camilla? Do you want to give me the details and have me pass it on in the form of rumour?”
“Excellent, Mia. Thank you.”
“Don't thank me. I'm not planning to join you in Deadendsville.”
“Here's the deal. You decide what to do. The Crown should be taking a close look at a particular police officer with a surprisingly high number of encounters with Benning. Way more than could happen by chance. Do you get my drift here, Mia? My anonymous phone caller tells me there's fire behind the smoke.”
“That old rumour. We're well aware of it, believe me. I don't think there's much there. And we had hopes of finding something solid, but it didn't pan out. But I will pass it on to be on the safe side. Take some advice, Camilla. Pull yourself together and get back into practice. I hate to see you in these situations.”
Nice bit of subterfuge. But I knew I had her attention. “Tell them it's worth looking at the relationship with Benning and an officer called Randy Cousins.”
She slipped into her coat and wound a silk-lined paisley scarf around her neck. Her fur-lined leather gloves matched the rich green in the scarf. She fixed me with a strange look. “You should get your hair done, Camilla. Even without the scraped cheeks, you used to look a lot better. Why not join a fitness club and get a makeover, and then you might not have to invent imaginary dates.”
Well, that was one way to react to news on a potential killer, but, of course, Mia was enough of a bitch to make up that story about P. J. being an only child. She knew it would get under my skin. She waltzed out the door before I had stopped biting my tongue. I reminded myself some things are worse than a cold coffee.
It wasn't long before I encountered a few of them.
“No, I cannot accept a collect call for Mr. Alvin Ferguson.” I slammed down the phone. As if I weren't already in a bad enough mood over P. J.
Alvin's head shot up at his desk where he'd been stuck in what looked like an elderly edition of Canadian Gardening.
“Oh, nice. I open up my home to you, I knock myself out getting information, I spend my time trying to get you out of bad situations, I get half-killed being a decoy for you, putting my life in danger tracking cops, and what do you do? You hang up on my mother.”
“We've had this conversation before, Alvin. I did not hang up on your mother. I hung up on the automated collect call request system. Justice for Victims does not accept personal collect calls. Get used to it. And your life was not in danger finding out about Randy Cousins.”
He flicked his ponytail over his shoulder and didn't say a word. I hate it when he gives in so easily. Then I have to wait.
“Well,” he said, with unexpected pleasantness, “Mrs. Parnell would like you to give her a dingle.”
“As soon as I get home. I have a lot to talk to her about.”
“Your decision,” Alvin said.
“And speaking of decisions, remember we decided you would check out the medical literature and determine how long a body would take to freeze.”
“Done. It's hard to be one hundred per cent sure, but it looks like your first guess was right. It would have taken Benning a lot longer than that to freeze. Based on what I read, you shouldn't have any trouble getting some pathologist to back you up.”
“Hmm. Great news. Too bad we're off the case.”
“Oh well, maybe you could leak that information to the Citizen.”
I opened my mouth but found I couldn't bring myself to tell Alvin that my buddy P. J. might turn out to be a lying snake.
“That it?” I said, instead.
“Not quite. Alexa called. Apparently her kids have arrived for the wedding. I wasn't even aware Alexa had children.”
“No reason you would be, Alvin. She has two boys, both older than you. My nephews have been out of the nest for years. Great guys.”
He let it slide. “Your sisters are having a shindig for Alexa and Conn tonight at the National Arts Centre Panorama Room. Like a shower, only it's a fundraiser.”
“Fundraiser? Alexa and Conn don't need funds raised.”
“Not for them. Instead of gifts, people make donations to their favourite charity. Which happens to be the Boys and Girls Club.”
It's hard to argue with the Boys and Girls Club.
“A great cause,” Alvin said. “Promises to be a snazzy affair. Family and special guests. How come you never mentioned it?”
“I didn't know.”
“You didn't know? I knew. Why wouldn't you know?”
“I don't know why I don't know and I don't know why you do.” Was I losing my mind? I had no recollection of this latest event. I wasn't sure what I could wear to it. Which reminded me Alexa had been awfully quiet about that bridesmaid's dress. I wondered if this alleged shower was some elaborate ploy to get me into a dress shop. Nah. Farfetched, even for my family. Whether it was or wasn't, maybe I could wiggle out of it since I was nothing but an embarrassment anyway.
“Too late,” Alvin said.
“What?”
“Forget what you're thinking. And you do have to go. I took the liberty of telling Edwina you'd been saying how much you were hoping to get together en famille again. Stan will pick you up at six-thirty.”
“Maybe you'd better call her back and tell her you were hallucinating at the time.”
“Well, I would, of course, but, she's gone out for the day. Wedding preparations for Alexa's big event.”
“You have a lot of nerve, interfering with my family.”
“That's exactly the way I see it with you, Camilla. I guess we're birds of a feather.”
“Flock off then.”
“Very funny. I'm looking forward to the big event,” said Alvin.
“What?”
“It sounds great.”
“It sounds hellish, but you will have to take my word for it, because you will not be there. And before you stick your head back in that magazine, here's a task for you.”
Okay. I was limited in what I could do. My support systems were in the toilet. A lot of doors had closed. But nothing in my bail restrictions prevented me from talking to a pathologist.
I made a beeline for the Ottawa Hospital and hotfooted down the hallway to the pathology department.
Dr. Harry Varty had a puzzled look when I finally tracked him down in a cold green hallway.
“Glad you're feeling better.” I seized his hand and shook it. I tried not to dwell on where that hand might have been. “Camilla MacPhee. Nice of you to make time for me.”
“I don't believe I…”
“This won't hurt a bit.”
“Wait a minute. Camilla MacPhee? Why do I know that name. Have you been in the news? Aren't you the lawyer who was just disbarred?”
This was hardly fair. “I have not been disbarred. Any complaint will probably be dismissed since it's without foundation.”
“And weren't you charged with assault?”
“Assault? Certainly not. There is a misinterpretation of some of my activities. A bit of grandstanding by certain interested parties.”
“What happened to your face?”
“Not relevant.”
“At any rate, I don't believe you have an appointment.”
None of his clients would have appointments, but it wasn't the time to mention that. But he wasn't finished. “And after what I read, I won't see you without checking with the police first.”
“It's just a few questions, for God's sake,” I said. “Don't be afraid to stand on your own two feet.”
But he was already on the other side of his office door.
So that didn't go well either. Never mind. He wasn't the only pathologist in the world. Benning must have died earlier in the afternoon or early evening. It was just a matter of time until I confirmed it.
And that would be great news. Elaine was always overbooked for every minute of the day. Once a time of death was established it would be easy to poke holes in her story. Another positive: Lindsay had been in our sight all day and into the late evening.
Neither one of them could have killed him.
I felt like dancing, although not necessarily at a family party, even though a number of bothersome questions remained. Why did Lindsay lie about her missing sweater? Who wore Elaine's coat and hat in the Crystal Garden at two in the morning? And more to the point, how?
But first, time to nail Elaine's activities. It would help to get a gander at her agenda for the day. How the hell could I find out without visiting the WAVE office or talking to Elaine? Big no-nos.
Until I figured out what P. J. was up to, I couldn't trust him either. My sisters were tied up until after the wedding. The WAVE staff and Elaine knew Alvin. Breaking into the WAVE office under cover of darkness seemed out of the question, mainly because of Alexa's shower. I surprised myself at how easily I pondered a little B and E. It showed how the system creates criminals.
I could have enlisted Mrs. Parnell, but I had other plans for her. Anyway, I had one more item of business to take care of myself.
“Hello,” I chirped into the phone. “I represent JFV Research Associates. We're doing a survey about the satisfactions of grandparenting. Do you have a minute to answer a few questions.”
“I have the minute, but I don't have the grandchildren.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I said to Mrs. Hector Lynch. She had no idea how sorry. “Could you answer a few questions, anyway? It would help others.”
“Sure, why not.” P. J.'s mom said.
“Wonderful. How many children do you have?”
“One.”
“And how old is he or she?”
“He's twenty-nine, and since you mention it, it's high time he settled down and produced a few grandchildren.”
“Hmmm. No daughters, then?”
“No.”
“Stepdaughters?”
“No, just the one boy.”
“I see. Nieces?”
“No.”
“Nephews?”
“Sorry.”
I took a deep breath. “Are there any small children in your life?”
“Not really.”
“Little red-haired neighbour kids?”
“Pardon me? Exactly what kind of a survey is this again?”
“Thank you, you've been very helpful.”
“No problem, Ms. MacPhee.” Mrs. Parnell beamed.
“Glad to hear it.” I accepted a refill of Harvey's Bristol Cream. I felt like grabbing the bottle and chug-a-lugging.
I was sitting on her black leather sofa listening to big sounds from her massive stereo system and wishing her lovebirds didn't have quite such loud and unappealing calls.
“Exactly the kind of challenge I've been needing. Get me away from the computer and the phone.”
“I thought it might be.”
Mrs. Parnell raised her glass in a toast. “Yes, here's to being back in the swing of things. I have felt a sense of failure since my web searches and calls failed to produce the desired results. Many interesting tidbits though, fascinating, but false steps.”
“Don't worry about it. Benning's relationships would be clandestine anyway, not likely to be publicly available.”
“Still, I thought I would turn up something, if not on Benning's criminal connections or family, then at least on Rina Benning's relatives. Nothing but dead ends.”
“It's probably good news, Mrs. P. If there are no other significant leads, we can focus on Randy Cousins. You and Alvin did one hell of a job there.”
“Nevertheless, I feel like a fool, leading the troops astray, wasting time.”
“Something wrong with those love birds, Mrs. P.?”
“The last time they were terribly agitated, I believe it had to do with your cat, Ms. MacPhee.”
“Your cat. So you're ready to take on the challenge?”
“With pleasure. I'm tied up this evening, but tomorrow's clear. I'll be in the trenches.”
Back in my own apartment, soaking in the tub and making plans for the next bit of investigating, I had a moment's niggle about what kind of trouble Mrs. P. could get into. But the task seemed straightforward.
Her challenge did not extend to the real battlefield. She was an innocent-looking old lady most people would not associate with me. What could go wrong? I relaxed, smiled and splashed a few bubbles in the direction of the calico cat.
We were getting somewhere on the Randy Cousins front, and Mrs. P. would move that forward nicely. As soon as I found confirmation about freezing times, we'd get Elaine back on the street, where she could continue her life's work of annoying everyone she met.
No matter what the evening held, tomorrow looked promising.
Twenty-Three
The ride to the NAC would have been tense even if Alvin and Mrs. Parnell hadn't been in the Buick along with Edwina, Stan and me. On the up side, in deference to her bad legs, Mrs. Parnell was installed in the front seat, leaving me to stew in the back with Edwina. On the down side, Alvin was also in the back seat, giving me one more thing to stew about.
“Should be a great evening,” he said.
I kept my mouth shut.
“Fine food, desserts, nice view. Hmmm.”
I bit my tongue.
“I bet it cost a bundle.”
“It will be worth it,” Edwina said.
“It better be.” And I'd thought Stan was asleep at the wheel.
“Lively family conversations.” Alvin just wouldn't shut up.
“And the wedding,” Mrs. Parnell boomed from the front seat. “Looking forward to an update.”
Stan snickered. “Oh, you'll hear about the big wedding.”
I turned to Edwina and whispered. “It's only a week until the wedding. Why do we have another social event? I have things to do.”
“Smarten up, Camilla. Everyone's busy Stan and I planned this evening in place of the traditional dinner after the rehearsal.”
“Wait a minute, I thought it was a shower.”
“It's in place of both. People are thrilled for Alexa and Conn. They want to show it. But, of course, they're trying to combine two households, so they don't need anything. And anyway, it's a nice surprise, which is why we didn't tell you until today, in case you…”
At least I hadn't for
gotten it. For some reason, I had been kept in the dark. I thought that was a nice change with my family. “All these parties are too much for Daddy.”
“Exactly why we're doing it. We're spreading out the celebrations. We don't want him getting exhausted, and he wanted us together. He's excited about the boys being home.”
I gave up. I stared out the window up the hill as we whipped past the Parliament Buildings on Wellington until I felt Edwina's sharp elbow in my ribs. “As for you, Camilla, nobody will mention the mess you made of your face or the trouble with the Law Society and the police. You can reciprocate by behaving like a functioning member of the family. No buts. No smart remarks. Just do it.”
“Okay.”
“And if that's what I think it is on your upper lip, you'd damn well better get waxed before the wedding, missy.”
A little of my sisters goes a long way. This would be a lot of my sisters. They made a big show of cooing over Alexa's tall blonde boys, Scott and Andy. The boys were full of news about their careers. Promotions, transfers, Silicon Valley acronyms. Edwina and Donalda pressed them for information about girlfriends.
Mrs. Parnell and Alvin also received the visiting royalty treatment. As for me, I was conscious of ice crystals forming on the tips of my ears. To say nothing of my upper lip.
“Mrs. Parnell, we're very pleased you could join us,” Donalda said, helping to steady the walker and guide Mrs. P. to our table.
“Any time,” Mrs. P. said. “All I ever need is an invitation.”
“Of course, you have a standing invitation to any of our family dinners,” Edwina said, lifting one powerful eyebrow. “Surely Camilla must have mentioned it.”
Damn.
“I'm sure she must have, but the old memory's not what it used to be.”
“Alvin! What a lovely shirt,” Donalda said. “So vibrant. Just what we need to lift our spirits.”
I was beginning to think he could blush on demand.
My father was already seated along with Donalda and Joe at a long table with a view of the canal. “Violet,” he said, standing and adjusting his tie.
Mrs. Parnell gave as close as you could come to a girlish pirouette while clutching the handle of an aluminum walker.
The Icing on the Corpse Page 19
