Children in the Morning (20 page)

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She and Jenny staged a triumphant and never-to-be-forgotten return, and we had to move on from there. The first stop was the Hells Angels clubhouse in Fairview. Burke and I, dressed down for the occasion, headed out there the next day in my quiet little four-wheeled vehicle. Quiet too was Father Burke, who perhaps hadn’t quite put behind him the threats and accusations I had launched at him when my daughter went missing from his school.

I broke the silence. “Who knew, Brennan? How, in my wildest dreams, could I ever have imagined that my little girl and her friend would end up in the clubhouse of the Hells Angels? That they went there on their own? I’m just, to borrow a word from you, gob -

smacked. She said she would explain later — you got that right, sweetheart — but all she was trying to do was ‘help solve the case.’

And she was exhausted and needed to sleep. She also made me swear

— and here again I’m a sucker for a pretty face — not to tell Beau Delaney that Jenny was there. So it’s possible he’ll never know she was missing, given that you didn’t even call him!”

Burke responded with some acerbity: “I didn’t call him because Friday is not a day for the Four-Four Time program. Jenny would not normally be at the school on a Friday. And she was not scheduled to be in the concert. So I didn’t know there was anything amiss with Jenny at all.”

“All right, all right. I’m sorry.”

“The decision to go see the Hells Angels may not have come completely out of the blue, though.”

I turned to look at him.
“What?”

“I didn’t attach much significance to this at the time, but —”

“Never mind that. Get on with it.”

“A week or two ago, Normie’s catechism class was studying the concept of sin. Apparently, the kids were codding each other about it after school, and Jenny heard them. Normie and Jenny came to me and asked me about swearing, specifically whether it was swearing if you said ‘Hells Angels.’ God love them, the dear little things, I tried not to laugh, and I asked why they were worrying about it. Jenny said her mother had uttered the words ‘Hells Angels’ one night at the house. In a loud voice, which she thought might have added to the sin! I assured the girls it wasn’t swearing, there was no sin, and Peggy 118

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Delaney is with God and the saints and the holy angels in heaven.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before because . . . what, you couldn’t breach the seal of confession?”

“It was not a confession, or I wouldn’t be telling you now.”

“Well, I should count myself fortunate that I’m hearing it as we approach the precincts of the Hells Angels chapter in Halifax.”

“It didn’t seem significant at the time. And then, when it came up with Delaney, Normie asked me not to tell you. Being a man who’s used to keeping confidences, I kept it.”

“What do you mean, it came up with Delaney?”

I looked over, and he gave me a wary look. “The time Beau was at, em, the MacNeil residence.”

That made me yank the car right off the street and squeal to a stop at the curb. I turned in my seat and faced Burke head-on. “What are you saying now? Are you telling me Beau Delaney was in my family’s house?”

“It had to do with, well . . . Herself needed a bit of legal advice.”

“She’s a lawyer and so am I!”

“She knows this isn’t your favourite subject.”

“The baby.”

“Right.”

“What? The boyfriend wants access?”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh?”

“He’s back living in Italy.”

“He wants visitation in Italy? She’ll never see the child again!”

“That’s where Delaney comes in.”

“I can’t be hearing this, Burke. How does Delaney come into it?”

“Ask him. Ask her. Don’t ask me. I’d as lief be talking about the latest outbreak of contagious disease as talking about this.”

He did look uncomfortable. He wasn’t one to tell tales out of school, and I suspected Maura wanted to keep all this from me to spare me any more aggravation on the subject. But I was aggravated now, for several reasons. My wife’s other child, her other man, and, oh yes, my daughter’s dalliance with the Hells Angels. And now my client, charged with the murder of his wife, was lolling about in my wife’s house.

The hell with Burke’s discomfort. “Brennan. How did Delaney get involved in this?”

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He sighed. “The MacNeil wanted some advice, or legal services, from one of Delaney’s law partners. A woman who deals with, em, domestic disputes.”

“Val Tanner! The dispute must be nasty, if she was calling in the big guns.”

“Well, it turns out Val Tanner is on sick leave. Delaney got wind of Maura’s request, and wanted to do something for the family.

Offered his services free of charge. That’s why he was there.”

“He was planning to appear in court with the murder of his wife still hanging over his head?”

“I think he saw his role as being more of a behind-the-scenes effort.”

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s doing whatever you lawyers do, I imagine.” Burke was holding out on me. I didn’t like it, but then, I didn’t like any of the circumstances surrounding my wife’s third child. I didn’t like the little bit I thought I knew, and I didn’t even want to think of how much I didn’t know. I couldn’t really blame Burke for his reticence, though. He was caught in the middle. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Very well. Delaney will save the day for Maura. While he waits for me to save the day for
him
.”

“I think his heart’s in the right place. You’re helping him; he’s helping, well, herself.”

“Okay, okay. Then somehow the Hells Angels came up in conversation. Why do I feel I’m playing a part in some great big cosmic joke?”

“Ah now, the Hells Angels. That’s where Normie enters the picture.”

“Of course! Little Normie and the HAs. Go on.”

“There was the Hells Angels swearing flap at school.”

“Yeah. The girls asked you whether it was a sin, or it was swearing, to say the name of the organization. Because Jenny had heard her mother utter the phrase at some point, in a loud voice.”

“Right. Well, Normie came downstairs at the house when Delaney was there, and told us she’d been studying her catechism.”

“Ha!”

“I know. It must have been a lead-in to what she really wanted to 120

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do, namely, reassure Delaney that his wife’s outburst didn’t set her on the road to eternal damnation.”

“And?”

“His reaction was . . . disturbing.”

“Jesus Christ! He knows my little girl knows something about his wife and about some concern, or even a possible connection, with a motorcycle gang!” I realized I sounded as if I thought my client was dangerous, and Burke wouldn’t miss the inference of guilt, but that was the least of my problems at the moment.

“Delaney stared at Normie in horror. Fear, more like. And then he looked at me, enraged.”

“God almighty! I only wish I’d been there. To head it off.”

“It came out of left field, Monty. She just blurted it out. I tried to downplay the whole thing, calm Delaney down. But he left in a state.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Said little Jenny has nightmares. Must have dreamt it. Couldn’t imagine his wife talking about the Hells Angels.”

“His reaction suggests otherwise. If there was nothing to it, he would have laughed it off.”

“I suppose he would have, yes.”

“So Normie and Jenny think there was something to it, and cooked up some hare-brained scheme to investigate on their own.

The mind of a nine-year-old! Frightening, isn’t it? But maybe the children are ahead of us on this. I wonder if we should be looking at some kind of connection between Peggy — or more likely Beau himself — and the bikers.”

“How convenient, then, that we’re on our way to their place now, Monty. Was Delaney involved with the bikers? Was he their lawyer?”

“No, I don’t recall him ever appearing on their behalf. They have other counsel.”

“Maybe he was in trouble with them, crossed them somehow.”

“Or represented a client with interests adverse to theirs. And something got Peggy worked up . . .”

“So, get going. We’re not learning anything sitting here.”

†

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“You’re the dads, I take it.”

“Well, you’re half right.”

Burke and I were in front of the bikers’ clubhouse, speaking to an enormous man wearing Hells Angels colours. When the introductions were made, he said everybody called him Axe.

“Nothin’ happened,” Axe said. “They must have told you that much.”

“Why don’t you tell us?”

“Two kids show up at the door in plaid skirts — uniforms — like Catholic schoolgirls or something. ‘Dear
Penthouse
. . .’ I’m like, where are the hidden cameras? Is this a sting operation? Anyway, they had some story about one of their mothers dying, and she had said something about us. I didn’t get it.”

“You’re not the only one. Then what happened?”

“I called my ex and got her to bring my own kids over. They ate pizza and watched tv. I told them to use the phone whenever they wanted to call their parents. Thought it would be a good laugh to see Hockey Dad and Soccer Mum pulling up to the clubhouse here in their Volvo and coming to the door looking for their kids. The other guys thought I was nuts to let them hang around. So I’m nuts. Not the first time, won’t be the last. Sometimes life is too fucking weird, know what I’m saying? And you have to go with it and see how it plays out.”

“So then you got them on the motorcycles . . .”

“They wanted to go home, but they wouldn’t make the phone call, you know? Guess they couldn’t picture the scene either. So I told them to hop on and we flew them home Air Harley. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder, the carrot top said to drive her to a choir school! Fuck! Then we pull up and see a priest standing there. I thought all that stuff about acid flashbacks was bullshit, but now I gotta wonder. Hey!” He peered at Brennan. “Was that you?”

“It was.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Brennan.”

“You don’t look like the kind of guy who’s gonna kneel down and kiss the Pope’s ring.”

“Oh, but I am.”

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“Well, the Pope’s not looking at you now. Wanna smoke a little weed?”

“Thanks, but I had to give it up.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“I was getting way too mellow in the confession box. People would come in and tell me they killed somebody or had impure thoughts, and I’d just say: ‘Hey, if it felt good at the time . . .’”

“Everybody’s a comedian these days. So, have I answered all your questions?”

“Do you know of any reason Beau Delaney might have been out of favour with your organization?”

“Delaney! The lawyer? What’s this got to do with him?”

“It was his —”

“No! Don’t tell me that was his kid. And it was his woman they were talking about.”

“It was.”

“I thought the cops were just trying to fuck Delaney around, and the charges were bogus. That she just died from an accident.”

“True. But she seemed to be worried about you guys for some reason.”

“You mean like those times when we’re looking for somebody to kill and can’t make up our minds who, and are saying ‘Who should it be? Who should it be?’ If it was one of those nights where nobody could make an executive decision, why would it be Beau’s old lady?

We might need him to defend us. And he wouldn’t if we killed his wife. See what I’m saying?”

“Nobody’s suggesting you had anything to do with her death. The question was whether Beau had done something to piss off any of the members of your, uh, club. Something like that, which might have got her worried.”

“Hey, can’t hold us responsible for the things people worry about.

They shouldn’t read the papers if they’re that sensitive. But I never heard anything about Delaney pissing anyone off. Or his wife either.”

“Well, all right then.”

“Only murder they’re trying to connect us to is that one in Truro.

They’re putting heat on one of our guys, who didn’t do it! He’s sitting in Dorchester on another bogus charge, and they keep looking 123

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at him for this killing. It’s bullshit.”

“How do you know he didn’t do it?”

“I
know
, okay? It wasn’t him. The victim was a psycho and got taken out by another psycho. World of freaks out there.”

“Right. Well, the victim of that killing was Delaney’s client.”

“Come again?”

“Delaney represented him at some point.”

“For what?”

“Criminal charges. I don’t know what they were.”

“There you go. Delaney thinks we blew away his client. Next time you see him, tell him we didn’t do it. End of story. Too late for the wife, if that’s what got her wrapped around the axle. She was worried for nothing.”

“All right. Well, thanks for your time, Axe. And thanks for bringing the girls home.”

“So, did they get in shit or what?”

“We suggested that they not do it again any time soon.”

I turned to leave but Brennan didn’t. Axe noticed. “Hey, Brennan.

You ever ride one of these?”

“Never.”

“But you want to.”

“Wouldn’t mind.”

“Your car a stick shift?”

“Yeah.”

“So you know about gears.”

“That much I know.”

“Okay, look. This is the throttle. Right hand. And that’s the front brake. Rear brake is here, right foot. Clutch is this one. Left hand.