Little Boy Blues (6 page)

“What the hell are you doing to find out if that’s what happened, Leonard?”

Stop yelling at me.”

I stared. “I’m not yelling at you, Leonard.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Okay. I didn’t mean to, and I apologize. Now where were we?”

“We were in Sydney.”

“What’s the name of your cousin on the Sydney force again?”

“Let me repeat. I don’t want you calling up my contacts on other forces and giving them a hard time.”

“I’d never do something like that.” I couldn’t help smiling, because Mombourquette was wearing a soft grey summer shirt and pants, and his whiskers twitched.

“You do things like that all the time.”

“Not this time. I have no intention of badgering anyone, but my father will ask me, and you know what Cape Bretoners are like about getting the names of peoples’ relatives. He’s eighty years old. Can’t you humour him?”

“Your father’s in Scotland. How stupid do you think I am?”

I really hated to let that one slip by. “He’s bound to call me, Leonard.”

“I can’t stand this.”

“There’s a way to make it stop.”

“Okay, my cousin’s name is Ray Deveau.”

“Thank you. Now was that so hard?”

“He’s the nicest guy in the world, and I don’t want you bugging him. Understand?”

Mombourquette’s cousin? Nicest guy in the world? Hardly. “Perfectly. What
exactly
did he say? Is Alvin overreacting?”

“They’re convinced something serious happened to the kid. I told you, it’s not such a big place, and a lot of people saw Jimmy before he disappeared. He’s kind of a fixture. Anyway, people would call the police or try to help if he was in trouble.”

“Maybe he got himself outside of Sydney. to of the other nearby towns. You sure they’ve looked everywhere for him?”

“What kind of idiot question is that? They’re competent police officers. They don’t need you to tell them how to do their jobs.”

“All right, I’m sorry. It’s an emotional kind of issue.”

“So do you want to know what Ray Deveau thinks?”

“Of course I want to know.”

“It’s been over twenty-four hours. So one of two things. They figure if he’s in the area, he’s dead.”

“But it’s summer. He could survive outside.”

Mombourquette reached over and touched my arm.

“It was eight degrees Celsius in Sydney overnight. Anyway, this boy won’t survive long on his own, no matter where.”

“But...”

“Like you said, it’s not good to disappear next to a harbour.”

“Yeah, but you said the place was full of people. Tourists and musicians and all that. Wouldn’t they notice him?”

“I haven’t been back since they built this boardwalk, but Ray told me there’s a section at the end where a person could drown unseen.”

“Did they send down divers?”

“Of course they sent down frigging divers. What is the
matter with you? And they worked with the Coast Guard.”

“Why don’t you want me to speak to this Deveau guy?”

“I’ve been a cop for twenty-five years. I’ve been a detective working major crimes for twelve. Ray’s been on the force for, let me think, eighteen, twenty years. It’s his home town. So, sure, yeah, I think a word from you would probably clear the whole thing up. Show us dumb cops that we should have looked for him in his closet. Or maybe put out a missing persons bulletin in the local media. We should have turned to you first. Maybe you can clear up all our cases.”

“No need to be sarcastic.”

Mombourquette scurried away from his desk and passed me in the doorway. He said, “This reminds me, did I ever mention you really piss me off?”

“You and everyone else. Don’t go thinking you’re special.”

“Good-bye, Camilla.”

“Wait a minute, you said, one of two things. What’s the other?”

But Mombourquette had taken the cheese and skipped the trap.

• • •

The Ottawa River Parkway was clear sailing all the way home. It was quarter to four when I got back to Mrs. P’s. Alvin was in the bathroom. Mrs. Parnell seemed to feel he had improved.

“But I don’t think we should tell him they’ve found no sign of his brother.” Mrs. Parnell kept her voice low.

“He’s going to find out anyway. Better if he hears it from us.”

“I don’t dispute that, Ms. MacPhee. But the point is that young Ferguson is coming out of a disturbed state. If he receives more bad news right now, it could send him back over the edge.”

“But what can we do? We can only guess why he’s in this state, and we don’t know where his brother is. By the way, did my travel agent call back?”

“Indeed she did, Ms. MacPhee. She’s tried everything. Unfortunately, they have not a single flight available into Sydney for the next week.”

“Be serious. Did you play the compassion card?”

“Naturally. And the poor old lady card too. Apparently they book up early for this time of year because of family reunions and people returning for holidays in addition to the booming tourist trade.”

I shuddered, and not just because of the family reunion idea.

Mrs. P. mashed a fresh cigarette into her holder and fixed me with a look. “I know what you are going to say, Ms. MacPhee, and I have beaten you to the draw. I did a detailed check on the travel sites, discounters, the airlines themselves, the works, and there’s not a seat to be had. Not a single seat. Not through Fredericton or Charlottetown or Halifax. Not through Boston. Not one. You will have to accept that.”

“Oh, great. Now we’re in a pickle. He’s in no shape to spend a long trip on a train or a bus. We can’t keep him here. We can hardly grill the family over the phone about what might have led to this state, and Mombourquette warned me against contacting the Sydney cops. We’re more than a thousand miles away, and we can’t do diddly about it.”

I knocked on the bathroom door and told Alvin I’d brought fresh clothing for him. The door opened a crack, and the kitbag was whisked inside.

Mrs. Parnell heaved herself to her feet. “It is time for us to mobilize our forces,” she said.

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, the answer is no,” I said. “Absolutely not.”

• • •

I figured Mombourquette was in his office. I left a message in his voice mail. “Come on, Leonard. This is serious business. What’s the second thing? Squeak up.”

Of course, I knew in the pit of my stomach what the second thing was. I also knew that most likely the police would be taking a hard look at known and suspected pedophiles in the area.

I heard the bathroom door open. I hung up and turned. Alvin looked a whole lot better. For one thing he’d changed into his clean black jeans, fresh black T-shirt and black leather jacket. He was wearing all his earrings. He moved to the leather sofa and patted Mrs. Parnell’s little calico cat.

I saw no sign of hysteria. So far so good.

“Good to see you looking like your old self, Alvin,” I said.

I glanced over at Mrs. Parnell. She managed to look inscrutable behind a wall of Benson and Hedges exhaust.

“I’m okay now.” Behind the cat’s-eye glasses, his eyes were clear and focused.

Mrs. Parnell lifted one eyebrow. Lester and Pierre shrieked.

“Are you sure?” It was tricky dealing with this new fragile Alvin. Threats, insults, all the conversational conventions that had defined our relationship when Alvin was the world’s worst office assistant were now inappropriate. I had no idea how to communicate.

He said. “I must have been overtired.”

Mrs. Parnell patted his hand. I couldn’t get used to her new role as a handpatter either. It was a world gone mad.

“But you’re feeling better now?”

“I’m fine. And I want to thank both of you for everything.”

My jaw almost hit the ground.

Mrs. Parnell said, “We’d do anything for you.”

There were distinct limits to what I would do for Alvin, but it didn’t seem like the moment to mention that.

“I really appreciate it. But you know I’d better get going now.”

“Right,” I said.

“I’ve got to get home. They need me. Thanks for packing up my things, Camilla. That makes a difference.”

“You won’t be able to get a flight. Everything’s booked.”

Alvin narrowed his slanty eyes at me.

“Trust me,” I said.

“Is this another one of your tricks, Camilla?”

“What do you mean, another one of my tricks? Look, my travel agent struck out. And before you continue on, let me add that Mrs. Parnell has been on the web scouring every travel service possible, and she had no luck either. Apparently everyone who has any tie with Cape Breton has chosen to descend on the island this summer. The week around Canada Day is particularly popular for some reason.”

“What about stand-by?”

Mrs. Parnell glanced at me and shook her head warningly. I took a deep breath. “I have it on good authority the majority of flights are actually overbooked, and even ticketholders are likely to be bumped. Stand-bys are up the creek. If you want to wait until next week, that might be different.”

Alvin stood up. “Next week is too late. I’ll take a bus or something.” He looked a bit wobbly as he headed back to the bathroom.

I said. “Looks like Alvin’s okay.”

“Don’t be fooled, Ms. MacPhee. This bounceback of young Ferguson’s will turn out to be purely temporary.”

“He looks fine to me. It must have been the shock of Jimmy’s disappearance.”

She jammed another B & H into her holder. “It won’t take much to push him into the abyss again.”

“But he’s back to normal.”

“If, as you suggest, the news from home is bad, I fear for him.”

“Look, I’ll go down with him on the bus if we have to. I’ll see he gets some professional help.”

Mrs. Parnell clutched my arm in her vicelike grip. “You must listen to me, Ms. MacPhee. I know boys. Whatever is behind this will turn out to be something almost too dreadful to imagine.”

So what can you say to something like that? “Mrs. P., I think he’s come to grips with whatever it is, no matter how dreadful, and he’s doing the right thing by going home.”

“You don’t send them back to the trenches when they’re in this state. That’s when you lose them forever.”

She sure knew how to raise the stakes.

“Come on,” I said, “think about all the trauma Alvin’s had since he’s worked for Justice from Victims. He dealt with those situations very well.”

“Ms. MacPhee, this is different.”

“So what are you saying? He won’t be safe at home?”

“We must not throw young Ferguson to the wolves.”

“I don’t think you need to worry. I’ll get him there. I’ve already left a message for clients that Justice for Victims will be closed for the next two weeks. I’ll drive him if I have to.”

“Ms. MacPhee. I hear the call to duty. My decision’s made. It will be much better if I go along too.”

Oh, Alvin,” I said, when he had emerged from the bathroom. “I almost forgot to mention I picked up your mail. You have a postcard from Jimmy, and maybe it has...”

I wasn’t counting on his eyes losing focus and the strange humming moan he emitted.

“Oh shit,” I said.

That was lost on Alvin. He collapsed onto the carpet. I leapt to keep his temple from striking the metal and glass coffee table. “I was afraid this would happen,” Mrs. P. said. “It’s not necessary to say I told you so. I realize I should have waited,” I said when we had dragged and lifted Alvin back to his place on the leather sofa.

By this time, Mrs. Parnell was perched on the edge of the leather chair, breathing deeply on a fresh Benson and Hedges. “I was not planning to say I told you so. Neither of us knows Alvin’s private demons, so we have no idea how to avoid arousing them.”

“We know one thing: they involve Jimmy.”

• • •

“Don’t ask,” I said to P. J. when he called. “We have no option but to get Alvin home on the double.”

“But that’s a crazy idea. This is Monday. The Bluesfest starts
this Friday. Even if you left now, how could you drive to Sydney and back by then? You’re going to miss Blue Rodeo. And...” Rustling noises followed. “And a bunch of other really really good stuff. Really good. You’ll never get here in time.”

“Unlike you, I already know who’s playing. But I have a situation to take care of, and I’m going to take care of it.”

P. J. said, “I thought you were excited about Bluesfest.”

“Let me remind you we are having a crisis.”

“Yeah, but you want to go to Bluesfest, right?”

“I can’t think about it at this minute.”

“Yeah, but listen, Tiger...”

“What is the matter with you? We have a terrible situation here with Alvin’s brother missing.”

“What do you mean, Alvin’s brother’s missing? You never mentioned that.”

“I’m sure I did. He may even be dead.”

“You said you had to help Alvin get home. You didn’t mention his brother was missing. What kind of thing is that to hold back?”

“Cool your jets. You’re not reporting a crime now. Alvin’s brother has disappeared.”

“That’s bad.”

“Yes, it is. The police in Cape Breton have done all they can to search for Jimmy.”

“Jimmy. That’s the brother?”

“Right.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s twenty-one.”

“Get real. It happens all the time. The family goes off the deep end, then the guy turns up with a five-alarm hangover and lipstick on his underwear and can’t figure out what all the fuss is about.”

“I wish that were the case here, P. J., but it’s not. Jimmy’s got some developmental problems.”

“Oh. That’s different.”

“I was hoping you’d done a piece on missing kids, and you might be able to tell me what to worry about or how to help the family.”

“Maybe he was abducted. Kids like that are vulnerable.”

“Exactly. So you can see why I’m not thinking about music right now.”

“But we do have Clubhouse passes.”

“I don’t want to hear it. I have to deal with this. Mrs. Parnell thinks Alvin might be shell-shocked. He keeps going into these trance states.”

“Two hundred and fifty dollars each.”

“It’s not like you paid for those passes.” I ignored the choking sound. “You won them, remember? And they’re in my name.”