Little Boy Blues (29 page)

“And you would, wouldn’t you.”

“Ottawa’s a real small town when it comes to spreading the dirt around after someone digs it up.”

“Right.”

“What impact would a scandal have on a career like his?”

“Hard to say. Sometimes scandal’s good for ratings. What kind of scandal?”

“I don’t know. Say some kind of youthful indiscretion. A false accusation against a helpless person.”

P. J. said nothing.

“You there?” I asked after a while.

“It sounds like you have something specific in mind.”

“Put away your pencil. This is pure speculation on my part. I think I told you Honey Redmore and her family were in Sydney the day Jimmy disappeared.”

“You think there’s a connection?”

“Something happened a few years back with Jimmy Ferguson and Redmore’s father. Something I think that a rising media star might not want out in the open.”

“Are you making a specific allegation?”

“Speculation only, but I want to get a good look at this guy.

Where’s he interviewing Nickypoo? And when?”

“Nick has a major fundraising luncheon at the Château at noon. I’m on my way now. The interview’s later. At two. On site.”

“Will you be there?”

“I see where you’re going with this. I can get you a ringside seat, but you’ve got to promise not to bring me any grief. The interview show is live on the news channel, and then air again taped late night.”

“Good. I knew I could count on you.”

• • •

“You think the brother engineered the accusations against Jimmy, Ms. MacPhee. How dreadful. Imagine doing such a thing.”

“I think the full story might be even worse. I want Alvin to get a look at this turkey.”

Mrs. P. tracked down Alvin for me and handed me the phone.

“What do you want, Camilla?”

“I want you to meet me at the Château. You should see this Will Redmore guy.”

“Honey’s brother? What for?”

“A major hunch. It could be our big break. Meet me there about ten to two. He’s shooting an interview there. If I’m right, it will be worth the time.”

“But I don’t even know him.”

“He’d be quite a bit older than you. He must be about thirty now. You don’t remember him from around town?”

“Not by name. I’d have to see his face.”

“That’s the idea. He does a public affairs program called
Face Off
. Does it ring a bell?”

“I don’t have a television set. I mean, I didn’t. I guess, now I don’t have anything. You told us a woman was driving the hit and run car?”

“That’s what Lianne Hornyk said. Other witnesses as well.”

“You don’t think it was Honey?”

“No, I don’t. But that’s just based on talking to her. Maybe she fooled me.”

“You’re right,” he said. “She’s not the type.”

“We should check out Will Redmore while we have the opportunity. One-fifty, Alvin. Be there.”

After Alvin hung up, I turned to Mrs. P. “You’d better come along too.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Why, Ms. MacPhee?”

“Because I’m putting two and two together. I’ve been pulling together a lot of strands that might be connected, even
if we can’t see how yet. I have a hunch there’s something to what Donald Donnie and Loretta said about boys in the park when Jimmy was injured. If Will Redmore did what I think he did to implicate Jimmy, it was so vile, it couldn’t have been the first evil thing he’d done in his life. And it won’t have been the last. He must have had plenty of practice. Vince remembers him as a bully. I want to see if Alvin recognizes him as one of the boys from the park. It’s a crazy long shot but worth taking. And if my hunch is right, it could be rough on Alvin. That’s why I want you with him.”

“I fear for young Ferguson. Nevertheless, we must not shirk our duty, Ms. MacPhee.”

Mrs. P. remained grim-faced from the time we left her apartment until we nosed the Buick into the parking lot at the Château Laurier. With her disabled parking pass, we snagged a prime spot near the door.

• • •

You could hear the racket from inside the hotel as Mrs. Parnell and I made our way up the long incline at the rear entrance to the hotel from the parking lot. We took our time. Mrs. P. was using her walker, and a lot of people swished past us on their way out of the hotel. People in high-powered suits. You could smell the money as they passed.

Mr. Nicholas Southern was able to draw a crowd all right. I felt a wave of dislike for this wealthy, selfish creep who, in my humble opinion, practised the politics of meanness. Adding to his sins was the fact he seemed to be winning over the loyalty of P. J. Not that I had much use for any of the existing political parties, but I couldn’t see our budding relationship surviving the discussions that would ensue.

The crowd had moved from the large room, where the luncheon had been served, to the hallway. Behind them a small army of hotel serving staff were removing towers of clinking coffee cups and dessert plates from the now empty tables.

P. J. was waiting by the door of the ballroom. Mrs. Parnell nodded grimly at him.

P. J. said, “I’ve been making inquiries, and as far as I can tell, Redmore is squeaky clean.”

“Not what I want to hear.”

“Why don’t you tell me what this is about? Then maybe I can do a better job of digging. I have to tell you though, except that he’s a bit of a heartbreaker for the women in town, I’m not getting even a whiff of bad stuff about this guy.”

“This is now, I want then.”

“Out with it. What do you know that I don’t?” said P. J.

“I have to know that you’re not going to do anything with it until the time is right.”

“Do anything with it? I couldn’t do anything with it if my life depended on it. This assignment is chewing up every minute of the day.”

“Okay. I have a hint from an unnamed source, Redmore was involved in some bullying incidents when he was underage. Possibly Jimmy’s accident was caused by bullies. I have a hunch that’s the link we’re missing.”

“Oh, great. A hint. A possibility. Stop the press.”

Mrs. Parnell leaned forward on her walker. “Once a bully, always a bully.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” I said. “I think he falsely accused Jimmy Ferguson of assaulting his sister. Redmore would have been in his early twenties then, but Jimmy was only thirteen. He got hauled to the copshop. Redmore’s father died chasing
Jimmy after the brother made the accusation.”

“Even if that turned out to be true, Tiger, I can’t get a story out of it because of Jimmy’s age at the time.”

“Think about it this way. Suppose you were an ambitious, ego-driven man on your way up and suppose, for some reason, you thought people would find out about your false accusation against a helpless boy like Jimmy. Would that give you a major motive to run someone down in the street?”

“Sounds far-fetched to me.”

“The false accusation happened, P. J. The father died. Jimmy’s missing. Will Redmore’s a ruthless man going to the top. I might be missing some of the details, but I promise you, help me fill in the blanks and you’ll have one hell of a story. It will make your holy roller Southern pale by comparison.”

“Holy shit, this could really be something big.”

“Not that you’ve never told a lie before, but I want your word you won’t break any kind of story until we have Jimmy safe.”

“You can trust me.”

“Now I wonder where Alvin is?”

“Alvin? Are you crazy? I can’t get you all in here.”

“Sure you can. Looking forward to it, P. J.”

Iam not a fan of whizkids from high tech or of muckymucks from business or of angel investors, although Justice for Victims sure could use one. I was surrounded by a sea of self-interest and Harry Rosen suits. Rubbing shoulders and catching up, slapping backs. Or checking their Rolexes and striding purposefully for the parking lot. But no sign of Alvin.

“What a shame. Alvin’s missing the new dawn of Canadian politics. Oh, well, maybe he’ll catch the next one.”

“Maybe it’s for the best, Ms. MacPhee. Since you feel it might upset him to see this bully.”

P. J. interrupted. “They’re almost set up for the interview. Let’s go in now.”

I stepped inside the banquet room and glanced around. Television cameras were angled at the far end of the room as technicians plotted the best shots of the dais, where two leather chairs sat facing each other. Nicholas Southern was already sitting in the chair on the right, perfectly natural. He adjusted the perfect knot in his perfect pale blue silk tie. He was good-looking, I suppose, if you like young, blonde, trim, wealthy, would-be politicians with chiselled chins and styled hair. There’s nothing like a hundred and fifteen million in the bank to bring out the best in a fellow.

As I watched, a tall broad-shouldered man headed for the second chair. None other than Honey Redmore’s tablemate
from the D’Arcy McGee. He walked with a surprising amount of grace for such a big bruiser. A thin young woman with spiked black hair and black nails hovered over the two, dabbing the last touches of make-up to their faces. The chairs were positioned to lend the appearance of an intimate chat between friends, while at the same time giving the camera guys a fair shake.

I followed P. J. and Mrs. Parnell along the side aisle to the second row, where P. J. had secured four reserved seats.

“This will be something. Will Redmore comes from a small “l” liberal point of view, and he’s got killer instincts. He’ll go for the jugular. He’ll be hammering at Nick’s integrity. This is a make or break media event for us. The doors are closed now. I guess Alvin will miss it.”

“This ‘Nick’ thing makes me tired. Whatever happened to ‘I’m stuck with this rightwing asshole and it’s going to ruin my summer’?”

“You can’t hate Nick when you get to know him, Camilla. That doesn’t mean I buy all of his politics. But he’s turned out to be a decent person. Despite the money …”

“Easy money.”

“Who cares. It’s his, and he’s choosing to make a difference with it. He has integrity. I think he could end up presenting a real alternative to the existing right.”

“And now you don’t want to see him chewed up by Redmore?”

“Be serious. I’m a reporter. We live for blood. A ‘good news’ story is no story at all. Nick is making the choice to be a heavy duty political player. He’s got to be able to take the heat, or he’s toast. Either way, good story.”

“I thought he’d already made it.”

“Redmore’s the acid test. Watch the interview.”

“I’m surprised Southern’s people don’t insist on a cushion or something so he doesn’t look so insignificant next to Redmore.”

“Believe me, they thought about it. But they knew the press would find out and make him a laughingstock. Remember Dukakis in the U.S.?”

“Would you make a laughingstock out of it?”

“Yeah, I’d have to comment, whether I wanted to or not. My job is to find the soft underbelly. But I think they’re striving for a David and Goliath effect. I’ll comment on that.”

“Good thinking. Looks like they got it.”

“Just be quiet, and don’t cause any disruption. Promise?”

Someone shushed us.

“Of course. What would I gain?”

“I know you. Even the very slightly improved Camilla is liable to make trouble.”

“Trust me. I just want to take the measure of Will Redmore. Considering he may be responsible for three deaths, including his father’s.”

“I want to hear more about that theory,” P. J. said. “Now turn off your cellphone. Right now.”

Another shush.

We sat back for a captivating half-hour and watched Will Redmore lay one verbal trap after another for Nicholas Southern. Southern managed to hold his own. I could see how P. J. might want to take sides. Southern was the underdog in this interview, although he handled himself with charm and grace under fire. Voters hate a sign of weakness. If I didn’t loathe everything Southern stood for, I might have felt sorry for him.

Redmore was almost big enough to make two of the reedy Southern. Obviously, there was no love lost between them. It looked like Redmore would pick Southern’s delicate bones clean.

For all my small-l liberal leanings, if I’d had to chose between
these two turkeys, I would have lined up with Southern. Of course, I knew more than I should have about Redmore.

It didn’t take a lot of watching to figure out that Redmore would be ruthless in getting whatever he wanted. His performance convinced me he was quite capable of setting up Jimmy Ferguson. The interview concluded with questions left unanswered, but that wasn’t one of them.

We stood up and started to move to the side. I hugged the back wall in an out-of-the-way spot. It was time to get the second half of what I came for.

“Get as many shots as you can, Mrs. P.” I said. “We can show them to Alvin later.”

She raised her digital camera with the zoom lens. She did a nice swoop of the supporters just out of range of the television cameras and the hangers-on in the front row. Then she focused in on Will Redmore as he moved down the aisle.

For one second, Will Redmore looked over. It gave me a spine-stiffening sense of how Nicholas Southern would have felt under that gaze.

I turned on my cellphone. It rang immediately.

“Where were you, Camilla?” Alvin shouted, when I answered. “I have him. I found Jimmy! Spotted him on Clarence Street. Just luck.”

A wave of relief swept over me. My knees wobbled. So did my voice. “You found him? Is he all right?”

“He’s scared. He’s hungry. He needs a bath. But he’ll be okay. Do you have the Buick?”

“I do.”

“We’re in the market, outside a coffee shop on Dalhousie near Cumberland.”

“Call an ambulance. Get him to the hospital. Right now.”

“He doesn’t want that.”

“He needs to be seen by a doctor.”

“Look, I’m not going to push him. You know about Jimmy. He wants to see the Gallery. If we don’t, it’s just going to add to his stress. We’ll have our little visit and then we’ll get him to a doctor.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. After everything he’s been through? Doesn’t he want to rest? To see the family?”

“Yeah. He wants all that. I told him about the Gallery in my postcards, and he wants to see it. And he couldn’t find it on his own. And he won’t settle down until he does. So I’m going to take him there, whether it sounds crazy or not. He’s pretty tired and he’s still jumpy. I’d feel better if we took him by car. Will you drive us?”