The Icing on the Corpse (29 page)

“Big deal. He's supposed to care about Elaine, and he's not even willing to put up with a bit of indigestion?”

“He does care about Elaine. A lot more than he should, if you ask me. Why do you think those two guys are still working on this case?”

She had me there.

“So take a bit of advice. You have strict bail conditions. Stop getting in our way, or the judge will hear about it, and you can worry about Elaine's problems from the same side of the bars.” She pushed past me and headed down the stairs, shoulders squared.

My first real encounter with Randy Cousins, human being, had been full of surprises. Two minutes of observing her up close, and I knew why McCracken and Mombourquette backed her solidly. An impressive woman. And maybe, just maybe, she was telling the truth. If so, who was lying?

To be on the safe side, I headed back into the hospital to make sure my family and all the nursing staff knew that Mrs. Parnell was not to be alone with anyone, including police officers. I gave P. J. a call too and told him what had happened to Mrs. P., in case the police didn't send out a press release on her. While I was at it, I tried once more to reach Lindsay. I left a message suggesting she leave the name or names on my voice mail if she didn't catch me the next time. I'd fill in the details later.

I felt better afterwards. I couldn't imagine any perpetrator getting past one of my sisters or even my father. Not to mention Mrs. P's day nurse, Derek, who was even bigger than Eugene.

I couldn't work. I paced restlessly, which isn't all that easy in a tiny office with two people in it. Eventually, I checked out the images on Alvin's painted window. After that, I decided to leave. I had plenty of time to go home, shower, shampoo and get respectable for the rehearsal.

“Or else.” Edwina's words. I'd show her by turning up at the rehearsal in the little black number. I had fun anticipating her expression.

Then I remembered something I should have done much earlier. “I don't know what's the matter with me. I meant to take a look at the site along the river where Lindsay claimed she found blood and signs that Benning had been there. With all the upset about Mrs. P., I put it out of my mind,” I said to Alvin.

“You can't think of everything. Lot of serious shit going down.”

“Most charitable of you, Alvin, but it's important. It's probably where he was killed. I'm going to whiz by and take a quick glimpse. I'll kick myself if the rain has washed away every bit of evidence.”

“It was raining before Lindsay even mentioned it. Which reminds me, she was trying to reach you.”

“Damn. We're telephone tagging. Any message?”

“Just that the names you were looking for didn't come up.”

In view of Alvin's good behaviour, I didn't lean on him about not mentioning Lindsay's call earlier. “I might drop in and see her after I check the river site.”

Alvin jerked his head and banged his sunglasses on the lamp. “Recurring death wish, Camilla?”

“Why?”

“If you're late for this rehearsal, try to picture it. What time is Stan picking you up?”

“He's been pressed into service running errands, so I'm getting myself there. No big deal. I'm glad to go somewhere without Stan.”

“He has heated seats, though, in the new car. Leather.”

“Who cares? The weather's heating up. The whole city's a giant puddle. The ice on the canal is practically melted.”

“I beg you, check the site another time. Don't take the chance. I'm the one who has to work with you after your sisters finish screaming. Wait a minute. Here's an idea. I have some little Valentine's chores I need to do first…”

“What kind of chores? Nothing to do with long distance calls, I hope.”

He managed an expression of tremendously affronted dignity, amazing for someone with an orange tan, three Day-Glo leis, nine earrings and a ponytail. “No. Lindsay's had such a hard time lately, I wanted to make her a card, plus get some special chocolates and drop them off for Violet in the hospital. But that won't take long. I've got the LTD. Give me the details of the location, and I'll head over and take a peek at the site. I'll let you know what I find.”

I couldn't think of a good reason to say no. Even though it was Alvin, and there had to be something fishy about the proposition.

“It's a deal.”

As he headed out to the Byward Market to hunt for handmade paper and Belgian chocolates, Alvin narrowed his eyes and reminded me to go straight to the rehearsal. I told him to keep me in the picture about what he saw at the river. I pressed my cellphone into his outstretched palm. “And remember, no, count them,
no
phone calls to Cape Breton.”

“Okay. And on your part, get to the church on time.”

“Piece of wedding cake.” I closed the door behind me.

Lindsay had left a message on my home machine too. No joy from the RDC. Elaine knew Randy Cousins but hadn't run into her until she arrived at Lindsay's, where she recognized her as one of the officers. There was one other thing that might be useful, but probably it wasn't important. Of course, Lindsay didn't answer her phone.

Merv didn't answer her phone or his. I left messages asking that the next message have some information about the thing that was potentially useful. I fed Mrs. Parnell's cat and chucked some food at Lester and Pierre without getting bitten. Next, I took a long bath, this time with a peach bath bomb, and drifted off to sleep for a while in the tub. Afterwards, I wound my wet hair into a French roll. It was only the rehearsal. The wedding wasn't until Monday. Surely, someone would have made me a hair appointment before then.

As I anchored the hair, I noticed the message light flashing on my phone. Just like Alvin to call when I'm in the tub.

“Lord thundering Jesus, Camilla. I've been by the river. Looks like Lindsay was right. It's a great clue. Just like a Nancy Drew book. It's the break we need. Hey, it's nearly five, and I have things to do. See you later.”

Well, that was useless. I dialled my cellphone number. Alvin didn't answer. Not much point in leaving a message for myself either. By this time, I had on my new rehearsal outfit and a pile of makeup. I looked fine if you care about these things. As Alexa does.

I checked the time. Five-thirty. I figured the rehearsal would start at seven. The next couple of days would be entirely given over to hair appointments, wedding, reception and all that crap. Then I could get back to the business at hand. Finding out who killed Benning. Finding out why that person would also go after Mrs. Parnell. And then fixing him or her but good.

Monday morning I'd be back on the job, with Alvin's new information making a difference. Or not. The only fly in the ointment was the unavailability of Alvin. But what the hell. Relax, stroke the cat and watch the view for the first time in weeks.

The cat sounded happy. That made one of us.

I tried Lindsay's one more time, expecting to leave another peevish message. She took me by surprise when she answered the phone.

“Camilla!”

I didn't want to beat around the bush. “So what did Elaine have to say?”

“We didn't have any luck at all. It looks like Elaine didn't see any of those people. Of course, it's hard to be sure, because I couldn't come right out and tell her what I wanted to know and why. Merv did his best, though. I think you would have been impressed with how sneaky he can be. We eliminated everyone on the list, I think.”

“That's a letdown.”

“I'm sorry. We did our best. And I'm ready to do anything else you can think of. Merv is, too. Seeing Elaine behind bars was so distressing. We have to get her out of that place. How can we help?”

“First, do not attempt to hang up without telling me about the potentially useful thing you mentioned.”

“Oh, that. Stupid really. It wasn't easy to talk to her about this without giving you away. Elaine mentioned she saw Mia Reilly while she was waiting at the Colonnade. I think Elaine was distracted that day because she was worried about me, but maybe Mia noticed someone from your list. Why don't you ask her? Would she help you in spite of their complaint to the law society?”

“Oh, yes, she'll help, all right. And Lindsay.”

“Yes?”

“Thanks. A lot.”

Anyone in the room could have heard the pieces clicking into place in my tired little brain. It took a full five minutes for my mind to process that key bit of information. And when it did, holy shit.

Mia Reilly. Of course.

Who had been in the Crown Attorney's office when so many of the charges against Benning fizzled for lack of evidence? Who would have been in a position to engineer his escape? Who knew exactly how the Crown and the police thought? Who had an insider's view of how criminals act, where drugs are available, how cars are stolen, how evidence is planted? Who was an exercise junkie, strong and flexible? Who had a legal career and a new fiancé to lose if the word oozed out she'd had a relationship with scum like Benning?

Why the hell hadn't I thought of Mia? Now all I needed was enough time to prove it.

I called my cellphone number. Alvin didn't answer. I tried again. The cellphone couldn't have been out of juice, because I'd charged it before we left the office. It couldn't have been turned off, because then I'd get the little message that the subscriber was currently not available. Alvin couldn't be talking to his mother because it would have been busy. Could Alvin have left it somewhere?

Alvin would never lose a phone. I tried one more time. He could have been in the middle of an intersection dashing across traffic on an icy road. But that would not deter our boy. Five-forty. Alvin had called before five. Where the hell was he? Somewhere where he couldn't call? Say, a hospital where you can't use cellular phones.

I was on my way.

S
he's gone,” they said, when I buzzed to get into the ICU. I felt like the breath had been knocked out of me. I toppled back onto the plastic chair in the waiting room. I didn't hear the scratchy voice of the nurse on the other side.

A pleasant-faced woman I recognized from the waiting area touched my arm. “Not that kind of gone, dear. She's moved out of ICU. That nice boy who's always with you carried her things.” I was surprised at how wobbly my knees felt when I stood up. I was still shaky when I finally located Mrs. P. settled into a room with a view.

“This is a relief. I thought you were on your way to the great beyond,” I said.

She was propped up in bed looking dangerous and nibbling on a Godiva truffle. “Old soldiers never die, Ms. MacPhee.”

She had enough flowers to open a kiosk. I noticed roses from my father. Red. A tasteful bouquet from the girls. And a perky African violet from Doug, the building super.

“Glad to hear it. Do I conclude by that unusual heartshaped lei formation that Alvin has visited?”

“Indeed. You missed young Ferguson. Would you like one of these splendid chocolates he brought? You have to admit, he has style.”

“If you want to call it that. When did he leave?”

“Quite a while ago. Couldn't wait to see you.”

“Ditto. But when exactly?”

“Let me think. It was just after that snippy young woman from the Crown Attorney's office dropped in to give me a talking to about the legal fine points of stalking policewomen. Oh look, he forgot his lovely Mickey Mouse scarf.”

“Who?”

“Alvin. He forgot his scarf.”

“What snippy woman?” I gripped the side rails of her bed.

“I was taken aback too, Ms. MacPhee. The nerve of the girl. She told me I could be in just as much trouble as you if I didn't stop.”

“You mean Mia Reilly was here?”

“Can't remember the name. Blonde hair. Stop jumping around, Ms. MacPhee. You'll give my roommate another heart attack.”

I lowered my voice. “When? How did she know you were here?”

“Don't worry about it. Young Ferguson put her in her place. He told her the evidence he found at the river would be enough to get Elaine out of the slammer. And finger the guilty party.”

“Shit.”

“I don't understand. What is the problem? We have not been unduly constrained by that young woman in the past.”

“That was before we knew she was a killer.”

“I beg your pardon, Ms. MacPhee.”

“I should have realized when McCracken confirmed that there was a hole drilled into the door of Elaine's car.”

“You are mystifying me.”

“I thought Randy Cousins used the drill bandit technique to get into Elaine's car. But it must have been Mia. She was prosecuting that case. She even told me that. Everything adds up. She knew how the drill bandit acted. Apparently she ran into Elaine at the pizza place when the coffee was sitting in the SUV in the parking lot, nicely out of sight. Elaine would have told her she was heading to Lindsay's. Mia would have figured, two birds with one stone.”

“But why?”

“Because she'd already killed Benning.”

“Killed Benning? Surely that is taking prosecution too far.”

“I've been thinking about it. The failure to get Benning convicted was just as likely to result from an ally in the Office of the Crown Attorney as in the police.”

“And you think this woman was his confederate?”

“Or lover. She's engaged to a partner in a big law firm. She sure wouldn't want Benning dragging her down.”

“But surely, Ms. MacPhee, a professional woman like that wouldn't have been involved with Benning.”

“Think of Rina Benning. Think of Lindsay. Educated, attractive, both of them. The more I think of it, the more it makes sense. She was in a position to engineer his escape. She was also in a position to frame someone else.”

“That explains her determination to prosecute Ms. Ekstein. And you, for that matter.”

“Elaine played right into her hands.”

“But how would she know where Lindsay was? I don't think Ms. Reilly was in on that.”

“She wasn't. I think she was trying to set Elaine up. And then Elaine let it slip about Lindsay and us guarding her. All she had to do was follow Elaine. That SUV is the size of a county. No trouble tracking it. She would have been prepared with the drill, some Rohypnol. She probably had it on her. I'm betting the autopsy showed Benning had taken Rohypnol too. Benning was a wild man. She couldn't have handled him conscious.”

“Good grief.”

“So she's aware that we found the site where he was murdered?”

Mrs. Parnell seemed to be trying to get out of bed. “Young Ferguson was heading back there to check something out and…”

“You mean she
knows
he was headed there?”

“No, she'd left before he told me about it.”

Even so, Alvin's adventure seemed like a bad idea. I had no choice but to check him out. Too soon old and too late smart, my father likes to say. I learned my lesson last year about putting myself in danger. Running off alone into the park to see a possible crime scene fitted nicely into the class of stupid things.

Right. So who could help? I remained persona non grata with the police, so scratch the force. Mrs. P. was seriously out of commission.

“I'll head over and see that everything's all right.”

“You don't think she'd hurt young Ferguson?”

I thought back to the scent I hadn't been able to identify just before I was shoved into the snowbank on the canal: cedar and bergamot. First Mia's cologne. Then Mia's knees in my back forcing me deeper into the snow. All that goddam exercise she bragged about had served her well.

“Yes. I think she'll hurt him.”

“I'm coming with you. Don't try to stop me.”

“No. You need to call for help. You're needed as communications central. Alvin has my phone, but you can reach Merv or Conn McCracken. Or Leonard Mombourquette. They'd listen to you. Merv's probably at Lindsay's. The rehearsal's not until seven. McCracken or even, God help us, Mombourquette, might still be at the station. Call everybody you can think of. See if you can get someone to meet me by the Rideau River in lower Strathcona Park. Tell them it won't take long. It's just to be on the safe side. What the hell, call P. J. Lynch too.
As
soon as I find Alvin and the cellphone I'll be in touch. If you don't hear from me in half an hour, call 911 and tell them one hell of a story.”

“Don't forget the scarf.” Mrs. Parnell handed me Alvin's hand-knit mile of mice. She was already on the phone as I raced out the door.

Six o'clock came and went.

Alvin, with his slippery, leather-soled shoes and light clothing, was not exactly dressed for success in the great outdoors. What if he'd slipped on the path near the river? The days might be getting longer, but with the cloud cover and driving rain, no one would spot him. All the Jimmy Buffett music in the world wouldn't keep him from freezing to death overnight.

Minutes later, the rental car fishtailed toward the Rideau River. I was dressed for the rehearsal, wearing my ankle length wool coat, the deep green silk scarf Edwina had given me for Christmas and my good knee-high black leather boots. I had the Sorels in the car, just in case, plus an umbrella and a flashlight. You never know.

By my calculations, it wouldn't take more than ten minutes from the hospital to the river. Then ten minutes to check it out and another fifteen, twenty at the outside to get to St. Jim's. Barely on time.

I took short cuts and maybe broke a few speed limits. The drizzle had turned to hard rain again. By the time I pulled into the parking lot at the end of Range Road, the wipers were working overtime and wind rocked the rental car.

Mrs. Parnell's LTD was one of five cars parked in the lot. There was no sign of Alvin. Although the way the rain sluiced down, you couldn't see anyway. I pulled off my dress boots and jammed my feet into the Sorels. I grabbed Alvin's Mickey Mouse scarf and substituted that for the green silk. I wrapped it about eight times around my head and neck, stepped out of the car and unfurled the umbrella. The wind whipped it inside out.

Three people with four drenched dogs raced for cover out of the dog area in lower Strathcona Park and dove into their cars. I banged on their windows, one by one. None of them had seen Alvin.

I headed down through the slushy snow on the path, glad of the waterproof boots and the light standards along the way. I'd walked through that park hundreds of times when Paul and I were in law school, living in a second floor apartment on Marlborough Avenue. It's not the kind of place where you worry about your safety. Dog parks are never empty. This one has its share of joggers and cyclists in the summer, cross country skiers in the winter, and it's crawling with pooches and owners anytime. I told myself the worst that could happen to Alvin was a wet kiss from a Lab.

Two more people with dogs splashed past me on the way to the parking lot. A lone jogger, heading out of the park, followed close behind them.

By the time I hit the site, in spite of Mickey Mouse, my hair hung in wet strings, definitely not a French twist anymore. My coat was soaked, and I was damn cold, if you didn't count my feet in the trusty Sorels. I imagined Alvin's twiglike ankles snapped because of a fall on the path. That might explain it. He'd be lying helpless with the cellphone out of his agonized reach.

When I located the spot Lindsay described, I found no sign of Alvin. Nothing but slush, the sound of open water and breaking ice.

Could he have gone further into the park? But why? Because he's Alvin, that's why, I thought. What else would you need to know? I concentrated on trying to locate the little twerp. I almost missed the ringing noise.

A phone? There wasn't a building nearby. The ringing stopped briefly and started again. Four more rings and then it stopped again. Obviously, someone who used the same strategy as my sisters.

I spotted the black receiver on the far side of a scruffy bush near the river bank. I picked it up and pressed TALK.

“Camilla,” someone bleated, faintly. The “battery low” sign blinked.

“Yes?”

“Where the hell are you?”

“Edwina?”

“Who else? You get yourself over to this church in the next two minutes or you may as well change your name. Got it?”

“Listen, Edwina, I need your help.”

“No, you listen. Everyone's here and we're ready to go.”

“What do you mean, everyone's there? It's not seven yet.”

“Six-thirty. The rehearsal's at six-thirty.”

“Is Leonard Mombourquette there?”

“You're breaking up. Talk loud.”

“Edwina,” I yelled, “I'm down at the river and…”

“Did you say down at what river? Oh, Camilla. Alexa's in tears. Stop this stupidity and get over here.”

“But Alvin's…”

The line went dead. The faintest blip. Then nothing. Okay. Deal with the girls later. Now to locate Alvin mondo quicko, get help and be on my way. I figured he must have slipped with those stupid shoes and skidded off the path. So the thing to do was, check for marks, find him and drag him back to the car. Logically, the skidding would have taken place near where he dropped the phone.

“Alvin!” Yelling is always good. Ask anyone in my family.

I made my way along the path, hollering and checking the river side for sign of a long skid. No sign. The path sloped and even in the dim light, I could see the pointy tracks leading through the slush to the little clump of woods. I followed, sinking into the wet snow.

The driving rain was cold enough to chill but not to freeze. My long wool coat grew heavier. Even the wool dress underneath was getting damp, but unless I found Alvin soon, that was the least of my problems.

In the distance, I caught sight of another jogger heading out of the park. Or maybe it was the same one. They all look alike. I slid down the incline, grabbing at brush to keep me from falling. How the hell do the joggers manage in the winter, I wondered. An image of the jogger passing Lindsay's place the bitterly cold night Benning was killed flickered in my mind. That image offered answers to a couple of nagging questions. Click. Click. Could the jogger have been Mia? Had she trapped Alvin? If yes, I hoped like hell she hadn't seen me.

At the bend in the slope, I spotted it. A long track in the piled snow. Big one too. Like someone had slid right to the edge of the river bank. I left the path and waded further into the slush. Something heavy had skidded across and kept going. The track went right to the bank and then down to the edge of the river.

Lucky I had the flashlight. I shone it down toward the partly frozen shore. Even with the flashlight, I couldn't see well in the glare of the rain. There were no convenient lamp standards off the path. It takes a lot to freeze the Rideau and the weather had been mild for days. The river was noisy, strong currents moving fast under the ice. Open water frothed at the shoreline. Further out breaks showed between large plates of ice.