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Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

The Icing on the Corpse (21 page)

BOOK: The Icing on the Corpse
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Twenty-Two

L
ucky me. The first person who spoke to me the next morning was Mia Reilly in the Second Cup. First, she furrowed her perfect brow. For once, I smiled at her. Running into Mia without even trying would save me the task of tracking her down at the Office of the Crown Attorney. Information flows both ways. This encounter would allow me to slip a few hints into the conversation. As much as I looked forward to tossing Randy Cousins in Mia's face, I didn't want to give away the surprise. We didn't have any firm proof yet that Cousins was implicated in the Benning situation. You don't want to play your hand too soon.

“Camilla.” She tossed the artful blonde hair for punctuation.

“What happened to you?”

“Me? Nothing.”

“But you look as if you had some kind of terrible accident.”

“A little tumble on the canal. Not serious.”

“Oh.” I sensed disappointment. “No broken bones?”

“Listen, Mia, I wanted to say I have no hard feelings about that complaint to the Law Society. Excellent PR for the Crown.”

“You have no hard feelings? Our office is about to lodge a formal complaint against you to the Law Society because you've been misrepresenting yourself as Elaine Ekstein's lawyer. She's the one who should have hard feelings. Not smart, Camilla.”

I turned away long enough to order a large latte and a couple of
biscotti.
As convenient as this meeting was, I would require a wee bit of soothing afterwards. “That's just the kind of reminder I needed to regain perspective. Stop and enjoy life.”

“Well, it certainly seems serious to me. I'd be
suicidal
.”

She sure couldn't feign sympathy with any semblance of believability.

“Not me.” I picked up my
latte
and headed to the service area to put extra chocolate sprinkles on it. Why not? I was earning them.

“Did you hear me? A
complaint.
That would be so damaging to your career. You have totally upset some important people. You could end up being disbarred. But you don't care much about your career, do you?”

“Bingo, Mia. I couldn't care less. I care about justice, but that's not the same.”

“Oh, you are so hard to figure.”

“Hey. There's a table. And it's early. Eight-fifteen. Feel like having a chat?”

She straightened. “I can't be giving you information about the case. Especially after you've been charged with criminal harassment.”

“That case will get tossed out of court, as we both well know.”

“Even so…”

“Trust me, I'm abiding by the court-ordered restrictions, I'm off the case. Remember? I'm getting on with life. Catching up with my social life and touching base with friends. I wanted to hear all about your engagement. And for once it would be nice to drink a
latte
before it's cold. But hey, don't worry about it. Some other time.”

“Oh. If it's personal stuff and nothing to do with Elaine Ekstein or our complaint, I guess that would be above board.”

Lucky again. The corner of the banquette was available for once. My favourite spot if I actually have time to sit in the Second Cup. I hoped spending a few minutes with Mia Reilly wouldn't ruin it for me.

“Well, Mia.” I squeezed behind the table and picked up my
latte
. “Lot's happening, I bet.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, flashing her gonzo diamond again.

Okay, my girl, it's false sense of security time. “That's quite the engagement ring. Tell about your fiancé. What's his name?”

“Jay. Jay Blackwell. He's great. He's just made partner at Harrington, Lawson and Bly.”

Like I cared. I did my best not to yawn. “Golly. Partner. At Harrington Lawson. Big guns. What an achievement for someone in their thirties.”

The smile slipped. “Yes, well, he's not exactly in his thirties.”

“Oh. Even forties. I mean, it's still a big deal.” I may not be the most sensitive person in the world, but I did notice her lips pursing. Since the idea was to keep her in a good mood, I decided to nip that discussion before she had to reveal lover boy was already collecting CPP.

“Age doesn't matter, partner in a big firm, that's terrific.” She relaxed a bit. I would have loved to have given her a hard time, but I had to worry about Elaine's wellbeing. “And what about you?” I knew Mia wouldn't want to talk about me unless it was to reiterate my more embarrassing offences and complaints. “I heard a rumour you're in line for a promotion.”

“Oh that,” she trilled. “Well, yes, they want me, but I have a fabulous opportunity coming up.”

“Really?” I tried again not to yawn.

“Yes.” She leaned forward, ready to indulge a girlish conspiracy.

“What is it?”

“I have been offered a position at Reid Lalonde. Corporate and property law. Serious stuff. What I want to do. Not this crap about getting fifteen-year-old car thieves to write essays on The Young Offenders' Act.”

“Mmmm.”

“I start next month.”

“Fabulous, Mia. You'll be great in Real Estate law. A chance to make a difference.”

“Corporate and property, but yes, it's so exciting. And what about you, Camilla? What's new in your life?”

“Let's see. No ring, no promotions, no new jobs, and not even the old job I was on with Elaine. But I did go skating with P. J. Lynch and his two nephews last night. Real neat little guys. Hey, that's three new men.”

“You don't have to lie to me, Camilla. It's okay not to have dates. You can expect a dry spell every now and then.”

“What? I'm not lying.”

“You said you went skating with P. J. and his nephews.”

“And I did. Why would I lie about that? If I tell a whopper, at least I make it interesting.”

She wagged her manicured nail at me. “Maybe it's not interesting, but it
is
a lie. You should at least get your facts straight if you're going to prevaricate.”

“What do you mean, get my facts straight?”

“This is Ottawa, remember. Everyone knows everyone. I grew up in Westboro with P. J. He lived half a block away, and I even used to babysit for him. He's an only child. He doesn't have any nephews. You'll have to do better, Camilla.”

I could feel my heart thumping. Had P. J. lied to me? Set me up? She had to be wrong. But what if she were right?

Mia wrinkled her forehead and ran her fingers through her blonde bob. As an attempt to appear concerned, it might earn her two out of five points. “Camilla, shouldn't you get a serious job? I remember when you were ambitious. When Paul was alive. Now you're always in trouble. I don't want to tell you how to live your life, but why do you want to bang your head against another wall? That is so non-productive.”

“Silly me. But back to your career move. Maybe we can get together more often now that you won't have to worry about conflict of interest because of my involvement with controversial cases like Elaine Ekstein's.”

You could practically hear her alarm bells. “I thought you weren't involved with the case any more.”

“Well, I'm not. But people keep giving me information despite this. Who'll be taking over the case after you leave?”

“I don't even have this case. I'm assisting. But you have to pass on information. You know the rules, Camilla. You can't keep relevant details to yourself.”

“You see my problem, I'm supposed to keep my nose out of the case. I could get my bail revoked. This information is tricky.”

She checked her attractive gold watch and stood up. “Oops, time to go. What do you want from me, Camilla? Do you want to give me the details and have me pass it on in the form of rumour?”

“Excellent, Mia. Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. I'm not planning to join you in Deadendsville.”

“Here's the deal. You decide what to do. The Crown should be taking a close look at a particular police officer with a surprisingly high number of encounters with Benning. Way more than could happen by chance. Do you get my drift here, Mia? My anonymous phone caller tells me there's fire behind the smoke.”

“That old rumour. We're well aware of it, believe me. I don't think there's much there. And we had hopes of finding something solid, but it didn't pan out. But I will pass it on to be on the safe side. Take some advice, Camilla. Pull yourself together and get back into practice. I hate to see you in these situations.”

Nice bit of subterfuge. But I knew I had her attention. “Tell them it's worth looking at the relationship with Benning and an officer called Randy Cousins.”

She slipped into her coat and wound a silk-lined paisley scarf around her neck. Her fur-lined leather gloves matched the rich green in the scarf. She fixed me with a strange look. “You should get your hair done, Camilla. Even without the scraped cheeks, you used to look a lot better. Why not join a fitness club and get a makeover, and then you might not have to invent imaginary dates.”

Well, that was one way to react to news on a potential killer, but, of course, Mia was enough of a bitch to make up that story about P. J. being an only child. She knew it would get under my skin. She waltzed out the door before I had stopped biting my tongue. I reminded myself some things are worse than a cold coffee.

It wasn't long before I encountered a few of them.

“No, I cannot accept a collect call for Mr. Alvin Ferguson.” I slammed down the phone. As if I weren't already in a bad enough mood over P. J.

Alvin's head shot up at his desk where he'd been stuck in what looked like an elderly edition of
Canadian Gardening.

“Oh, nice. I open up my home to you, I knock myself out getting information, I spend my time trying to get you out of bad situations, I get half-killed being a decoy for you, putting my life in danger tracking cops, and what do you do? You hang up on my mother.”

“We've had this conversation before, Alvin. I did not hang up on your mother. I hung up on the automated collect call request system. Justice for Victims does not accept personal collect calls. Get used to it. And your life was not in danger finding out about Randy Cousins.”

He flicked his ponytail over his shoulder and didn't say a word. I hate it when he gives in so easily. Then I have to wait.

“Well,” he said, with unexpected pleasantness, “Mrs. Parnell would like you to give her a dingle.”

“As soon as I get home. I have a lot to talk to her about.”

“Your decision,” Alvin said.

“And speaking of decisions, remember we decided you would check out the medical literature and determine how long a body would take to freeze.”

“Done. It's hard to be one hundred per cent sure, but it looks like your first guess was right. It would have taken Benning a lot longer than that to freeze. Based on what I read, you shouldn't have any trouble getting some pathologist to back you up.”

“Hmm. Great news. Too bad we're off the case.”

“Oh well, maybe you could leak that information to the
Citizen.”

I opened my mouth but found I couldn't bring myself to tell Alvin that my buddy P. J. might turn out to be a lying snake.

“That it?” I said, instead.

“Not quite. Alexa called. Apparently her kids have arrived for the wedding. I wasn't even aware Alexa had children.”

“No reason you would be, Alvin. She has two boys, both older than you. My nephews have been out of the nest for years. Great guys.”

He let it slide. “Your sisters are having a shindig for Alexa and Conn tonight at the National Arts Centre Panorama Room. Like a shower, only it's a fundraiser.”

“Fundraiser? Alexa and Conn don't need funds raised.”

“Not for them. Instead of gifts, people make donations to their favourite charity. Which happens to be the Boys and Girls Club.”

It's hard to argue with the Boys and Girls Club.

“A great cause,” Alvin said. “Promises to be a snazzy affair. Family and special guests. How come you never mentioned it?”

“I didn't know.”

“You didn't know? I knew. Why wouldn't you know?”

“I don't know why I don't know and I don't know why you do.” Was I losing my mind? I had no recollection of this latest event. I wasn't sure what I could wear to it. Which reminded me Alexa had been awfully quiet about that bridesmaid's dress. I wondered if this alleged shower was some elaborate ploy to get me into a dress shop. Nah. Farfetched, even for my family. Whether it was or wasn't, maybe I could wiggle out of it since I was nothing but an embarrassment anyway.

“Too late,” Alvin said.

“What?”

“Forget what you're thinking. And you do have to go. I took the liberty of telling Edwina you'd been saying how much you were hoping to get together
en famille
again. Stan will pick you up at six-thirty.”

“Maybe you'd better call her back and tell her you were hallucinating at the time.”

“Well, I would, of course, but, she's gone out for the day. Wedding preparations for Alexa's big event.”

BOOK: The Icing on the Corpse
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