Read The Icing on the Corpse Online

Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

The Icing on the Corpse (2 page)

BOOK: The Icing on the Corpse
9.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

I dipped my
biscotti
into the flat cool
latte
and daydreamed about precisely what it would take to carry Alvin out of my life. I was rubbing my socks in an effort to restore feeling to my toes when the phone rang. And rang again.

“Answer the phone, Alvin.” I did not swear. I did not indulge in sarcasm. I did not hyperventilate. Not even on the third ring. I didn't want Alvin to press my buttons. This was harder than it sounds. “And take a message if it's one of my sisters.”

Midway through the fourth ring, before it flipped over to call answer, Alvin lifted the receiver with a languid hand and produced the kind of upbeat chirp you might expect in a chewing gum commercial.

“Justice for Victims. Good morning! Yes. Yes, it is. What? Oh! All right, certainly, I'll see if she's available. Please hold.”

“What? Of course I'm available. I'm right in front of you.” I reached over and snatched the receiver from Alvin's hand. “Camilla MacPhee here.”

“It's your sister,” Alvin said.

“Damn.” Too late. I didn't even have time to ask which one.

Edwina's measured tones drifted down the line. “Camilla, you have to get rid of that boy.” In a previous life Edwina might have been a head of state, leading the population through war and famine, brooking no opposition, keeping the dungeons full. Of my three sisters, she is the one I am least fond of finding on the end of a phone line.

“Perhaps you're right,” I said, “but I'm always afraid they'll bring back the death penalty.”

“Why can't he answer the phone like any normal person?”

“He can't, that's all. He just can't, and he'll never be able to. Deal with it and move on, Edwina. Or better yet, back me up the next time I try to tell our mutual father why I need a change of staff.”

“Oh, Camilla, you know how Daddy is about helping people. He'd never understand.”

Nicely understated. Somewhere back in time, my father had fond memories of Alvin's mother, now the widow of a spectacularly alcoholic shoe salesman. Alvin was number six of seven children and definitely in need of help. Since my father is the only person in the world I've never talked back to, Alvin continues to clog my life in his own special way.

My cellphone rang. This time Alvin answered on ring one.

“You're right, Daddy won't understand,” I said to Edwina. “And I'm stuck with the situation. So learn to call me at home.”

Alvin tapped my shoulder.

Edwina likes to dish out orders, not receive them. “No need to be snippy, Miss. I need your cooperation to deal with Alexa's wedding. The way it's going, it will drive the whole family crazy.”

I swatted at Alvin's hand. “Take a message,” I mouthed.

“The whole family's already crazy, Edwina,” I said. “And what do you have to complain about, anyway? It's not like you're stuck with being a bridesmaid. Try a little perspective.”

“Perspective?” Edwina sounded like she was choking. “Don't tell me to show a little perspective, Little-Miss-I-can't cooperate on any of the arrangements for my own sister's wedding because I was put on this earth to make life difficult for the human race.”

Alvin moved over to the front of my desk. He had his hand over the receiver. “I think you'd better take this one.”

“Listen, Edwina, if you mean the…”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“No need to be nasty.”

I showed Alvin my middle finger.

Edwina sputtered from the receiver.

“Gotta go, Edwina. We should keep the discussions of the wedding to non-office hours, since you're so emotional.”

“What? You listen to me, Camilla MacPhee. You are the biggest problem we have. The point of my call is to tell you to shape up.”

Alvin stuck his face six inches from mine. Behind the pointy black spectacles his eyes were slits. He tried to wrap my hand around the receiver.

“One minute.”

“Don't you ‘one minute' me,” Edwina barked. “Your sister has a well-deserved second chance at happiness, and she doesn't need you to act like a spoiled brat and ruin everything. Do I make myself clear?”

“If Alexa's foolish enough to think she can be happy with a pudgy middle-aged police officer.…”

It takes more than a loud voice to force the supreme ruler to back down. “Fine. We're having a family dinner,” she said. “Wednesday. My place. Six thirty. We'll discuss it then.”

Family dinner? I thought fast. Trip out of town? Frostbite? Amnesia? “But.”

“No buts. Stan will pick you up.” Edwina hung up before I could think of twelve unassailable reasons why I couldn't attend. Trounced again.

Alvin paced in front of my desk. The parrots on his shirt flapped.

“Is it necessary to hound me when I'm on the phone?”

“It's Lindsay Grace,” he said. “She says it's an emergency.”

I grabbed the receiver.

“Lindsay?”

Nothing.

“Lindsay? It's Camilla. Are you all right?”

Dead air.

“Lindsay!” Shouting didn't help. The dial tone was the last sound I wanted to hear. I sank into my chair. To do Alvin credit, he didn't think it was funny.

“Did she say where she was calling from?”

He shook his head.

“Did she say what happened?”

“No. She said it was urgent, and she needed to talk to you.”

“That was it?”

“She kept saying Benning was out.”

“Hardly.”

“That's what she said. She was practically hysterical.”

“Well, she's often hysterical. And he can't be out. That's absurd.”

“But what if he is?”

I couldn't bring myself to think about it.

“Not possible. Ralph Benning is a guest of the Regional Detention Centre, and he's not going anywhere.”

“But it's
Benning.
Anything could happen. He is going somewhere. They have to move him to the Courthouse.” Behind the fake tan, Alvin was pale. Who wouldn't be?

“Look, Alvin. He is behind Plexiglas and bars. When they move him, he'll be shackled and surrounded by big guys with Glocks and nervous twitches.”

He turned toward the wall and bit his lip. “He'll murder her. Remember? He's threatened to.”

I remembered all right. If anyone could escape, he could. And if Ralph Benning was out, he would find a way to kill Lindsay. No doubt about it. But how could he be out? My hands were shaking as I dialed her number.

But Lindsay Grace didn't answer.

Three

S
top hyperventilating, Alvin.”

“Well, do something. If he's cunning enough to slip out of jail, he can find her too.”

“It's obviously some kind of mistake, but if she's upset, she needs help. I'll head right over and see what I can do to reassure her. It's probably the stress of knowing the sentencing hearing's today. She's been overwrought.”

“I'll call 911,” Alvin said. “She needs help.”

I yanked the receiver from his hand. “No. Remember the last time he was on the loose so long? People figured he has some kind of inside contact. Even Lindsay thought so. We don't want some dispatcher blasting out Lindsay's address and the wrong person hearing it and passing the information on to Benning. He could use some of his connections to harass her.”

“Lord thundering Jesus.”

“Exactly.” I stuck my feet into the depths of the icy boots.

“I'm coming with you.” Alvin grabbed his studded black leather jacket from the coat rack. I knew his jacket had no winter lining, although it was accessorized with an extensive Mickey Mouse scarf. Oh sure, that was all I needed. To have to explain to my father and Alvin's sainted mother how I'd encouraged him to die of exposure while under my tutelage.

“You must be kidding.”

“I'm not kidding.” Alvin's black eyes flashed behind the cat's eye glasses.

“You are not coming.”

“Yes, I am.” Alvin was already zipping up the jacket.

“Get this straight, Alvin. You are staying here.”

“Wrong.”

I hate that manic glitter in his eyes. Time to change tactics. No point in discussing his lack of suitable winter clothing. I didn't want to bring on another bout of mind over matter. “Your newfound interest in social justice is touching, but it's important for you to be in the office.”

“That's quite a change in policy.”

He had a point. I spend my energy devising ways to remove him from the office on a permanent basis. He raised one eyebrow over the rim of the cat's eye glasses. It was an effect my sisters would have envied. But I was ready for him. “Lindsay may call here, and if you don't answer, she could panic and put herself at risk. She could go into hiding, and we wouldn't be able to contact her at all. That's why.”

Alvin's hand paused on the zipper.

I said, “So, if she does call, keep her calm, find out what happened and call me on my cellphone.”

Alvin removed the jacket and slumped back in his seat.

“Okay,” he said.

I busied myself with my parka and gloves. I was still wearing the hat, socks and long silk underwear. Alvin busied himself staring at the phone. Jimmy Buffett busied himself singing “Trying to Reason With Hurricane Season”.

I snatched the cellphone. “And turn the music off and put the radio on CBC. This is not a holiday camp.”

Alvin plunked his feet on the desk and watched me slantily. “Aloha,” he called as I headed for the parking garage.

I'd been parked long enough for my recently acquired, pre-enjoyed Honda Civic to chill. The engine turned over on the third try. By that time, the vinyl seats had frozen my behind. Despite the red socks, my feet felt ready for amputation. I sat shivering and prayed the car would warm up before the engine flooded or the battery died. It wouldn't help Lindsay Grace if I joined the long list of people praying to be rescued by the CAA. A one-hour wait on sub-zero vinyl.

Therefore, I wasn't going anywhere until the heat gauge crept from the red into the black zone. The air in the garage was full of exhaust fumes. I gobbled some mints to get the taste out of my mouth. Winter in the nation's capital. No end to the fun.

I kept trying Lindsay's line, but the phone rang on and on. I was about to dial for the tenth time, when my own phone rang. “Hello, Alvin. Did Lindsay call back?”

“Not yet.”

“Then why are you tying up the line?”

“Don't you have your radio on?”

“No, I'm warming the car, and I don't want to drain the battery. I also don't want to chat. Hang up.”

“It's on the radio. It's confirmed. Benning's escaped.”

“What? I can't believe it!”

“Believe it. He was supposed to have had a dental emergency, and when they were moving him somewhere, he overpowered his guard somehow and disappeared.”

“Not even possible.”

“Possible, and that's not all. The guard who was escorting him? Benning bit off his nose.”

“What?”

“Bit the guards nose off.” Alvin s voice rose.

“Oh, how could that happen? He had only one guard?”

“I don't know how many, but they reported Benning was armed.”

“How could he be armed? He was in jail!”

“You tell me.”

My heart thundered against my ribs. Lindsay.

Alvin said, “And there's an unconfirmed report an officer was shot.”

“When?”

“As far as I can figure out, it must have happened about an hour ago. Explains all those sirens.”

“Where are their brains? They might have figured out a lunatic like Benning would need a back-up guard. A guy facing an indefinite sentence might be willing to take a real big chance. But how the hell could he have a weapon?”

“Wait a minute. There's an update. Wow, shot at
least
one officer during his escape.”

I was thinking fast.

Alvin squeaked, “He must have called Lindsay. No wonder she was so upset.”

“No, her phone's unlisted. Only a couple of people have it. He wouldn't know it.”

“Oh, right.”

“Maybe she caught the news report and called us right away.”

“Maybe.”

“Has to be,” I said.

“You better shift your butt, Camilla.”

I let it slide, just that once.

Ralph Benning had nothing to lose going after Lindsay.

“I'm on my way, but we have to get the police there fast without alerting Benning to the location.”

“But you said…Okay, so how do we let them know?”

I fished out my phone book. “You track down Elaine Ekstein. Here's her cell number. She always picks up. Explain what's happened. She'll fix it. She makes a lot of noise as Executive Director of WAVE. She'll tell them to hustle enough officers over to Lindsay's and do it on the QT.”

“But Elaine's a civilian. What if they don't listen to her?”

“Trust me. They'll listen. Every cop in this town's scared shitless of Elaine.”

My father spent twenty years as a high school principal. The legacy is a nice pension and a collection of useful clichés. His favourite saying has always been when the going gets tough, the tough get going. My sisters prefer to say when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping. In my case, when the going gets tough, the tough get stupid. Which means that I wasn't giving proper respect to Benning's cunning abilities as I eased off the ramp and onto the street.

January's gift to the residents of Ottawa had been snow. Most of it was still piled on the edges of the side streets. That reduced the streets to one car width in many cases. Under the snow was ice. I didn't want to slide off the road, because I already knew I wouldn't find a tow truck in any big hurry.

Well, what did I have to bitch about? Icy vinyl seats? Small potatoes compared to knowing that a man who would slam a wounded woman with a baseball bat was on your trail. Benning would still have the taste of the guard's blood in his mouth. But Lindsay. I couldn't imagine what it would feel like to sit alone and wait for Ralph Benning.

I used the time at red lights to place calls that might yield a bit of new information on the Benning situation. First, I phoned my brother-in-law-to-be in Major Crimes. We didn't see eye to eye on much, but he would be steaming over this. Conn McCracken takes a dim view of domestic assault, to begin with. He'd done the groundwork on Benning's last arrest. He'd seen Rina Benning's broken body in the hospital. He'd know what it meant to have Benning loose. He'd understand what Lindsay Grace was up against.

I left a message after the beep.

You'll never catch me complaining about voice mail. I love it. What's not to love about a technology where no one can avoid your opinions and instructions any time of the day or night?

Next I punched in P. J. Lynch's cell number. That's the best part about having a reporter friend. He'd know what was happening. If I were lucky, he'd fill me in. Speculation and all. He must have been on the line. I left my detailed message after the beep.

Twenty minutes later, six blocks from Lindsay's townhouse, my brain engaged. Benning was smart. I still got chills remembering his cocky smirk when I'd accompanied Lindsay to testify at his trial. He knew I was her legal support. He knew I was connected and in touch. As soon as the word reached her or me, he'd bet I'd head out to protect her.

He would have done his homework, would have had some confederate research all of Lindsay's contacts. He probably had my home address. He'd know where I worked. All he'd have to do was sit and watch my office during the day until I headed out. Then he could follow me. He'd have no trouble waiting. Plenty of practice in Kingston.

I had failed Lindsay once, and I was about to fail her again. I pulled over and sat nudged up against four feet of solid packed snowbank. On the far side of the banks the red vinyl covers on the parking meters told me parking was off limits until the snow clearing had been completed.

A steady stream of cars edged by, most of the drivers shooting reproachful glances. Every second driver blew his horn.

I stared back at each vehicle, expecting to catch Ralph Benning's hard black eyes boring through my soul. The first break in the traffic, I climbed out and pretended to fish a blanket from the trunk. No one was parked behind me. I didn't spot Benning in the straggly line of traffic.

But he was out there. So how the hell could I connect with Lindsay without inviting Benning to the party?

“What?” Alvin said. “Are you out of your tiny mind?”

“Show a little respect. I am, after all, your employer.”

“I suppose you are. In the broadest sense of the term.”

“I am your employer in every sense of the term. Do I understand that is no longer your heart's desire?”

“Yeah, but this is not an office administration activity. Admit it, Camilla.”

“I believe it falls under Other Duties as Required.”

“Well, I don't think it's legal to ask someone to pretend to be someone else.”

“Alvin, say the word, and I'll put an ad in the paper for a replacement.”

“No need to be snotty. You could at least give me one good reason.”

“Lindsay Grace is the reason. If Benning follows me, and he's sharp enough to, I'll lead him right to her.”

“Well, why didn't you say so? Do you have to be so frigging mysterious? Give me a minute. And listen, I cant reach Elaine. I left messages at her home, her office, and her cellphone.”

“Did you leave my cellphone number?”

“Of course.”

“Don't worry. We'll hear from her. And Alvin.…”

“On my way.” He hung up before I could tell him it would take me a while to negotiate the drive back.

BOOK: The Icing on the Corpse
9.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Chances Are by Donna Hill
01 Storm Peak by John Flanagan
A Shroud for Jesso by Peter Rabe
Taking You by Jessie Evans
When in Rome by Ngaio Marsh
Fever by Melissa Pearl
13 by Jason Robert Brown
Krik? Krak! by Edwidge Danticat
Burning the Map by Laura Caldwell