The Icing on the Corpse (30 page)

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Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

BOOK: The Icing on the Corpse
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I was too goddam cold and wet to think straight. Not far away, a duck quacked miserably. It took a time to locate the dark, still lump near the shore.

The orange lei was a dead giveaway. It fluttered in the wind. Plastic doesn't care about the weather. Alvin lay on a small triangle of ice broken away from the shore. What the hell was he doing there? The ice plate sloped badly. I hung on to clumps of brush and half-slid, half-crawled down the bank.

“Alvin,” I yelled. “Wake up!” The lump didn't move. The lei flapped in the wind.

“Alvin
.” That was stupid. I didn't even know whether he was dead or alive. But if he moved and the ice slab tilted, he'd be dead soon. If he went under, he'd surface downstream at the locks in the Spring. Or not at all.

Maybe yelling his name wasn't the greatest idea. I could startle him and he'd roll over and then…or, typical Alvin, he'd do the opposite of what I wanted, with the same result. If I could just reach him. But first things first.

My jaw dropped as a chunk of ice flew through the air and sent the flashlight flying in a wide arc toward the river. The splash that followed was the worst sound in the world.

Thirty-One

T
he jogger had descended partway down the slope. It was too late to hide.

“Surprise. I'm back.” The last person I wanted to hear.

“Call 911. We have an injured person stuck on the ice.” I tried to sound confident.

Mia Reilly's voice was colder than the rain. “Not dead?”

“No. But he's unconscious. We have to get him.”

She moved closer. “You mean not dead yet.”

“No, but if the ice separates any more and tilts, he'll be in the river.”

“And you'll be right after him.” Mia's usually sleek blonde bob hung dark and wet. Her makeup must have washed away, leaving her ghostlike in the fog. She wasn't showing her expensive smile tonight. Even in water-resistant black jogging gear, she must have been soaked.

“No, I think I can get him out. For God's sake, Mia, please run back and call for help. I don't know how long he's been lying there.”

“His neck looks broken.”

I whirled and gawked at Alvin. How many times had I threatened to break his neck? Now it didn't seem amusing. “Hurry up, then,” I said.

“What's your rush?”

“Are you crazy?” On the river, a sheet of ice cracked with a bang. I whipped my head back toward Alvin. “Before it's too late, Mia. If that ice breaks off any more, he'll tilt and go under.”

Nothing prepared me for her giggle.

“There's nothing funny about this.” I felt angry enough to toss her and her sick little laugh into the roiling water.

“I don't know about that,” she said.

“Find a long branch we could use to hook him so he doesn't go under if it does break loose.”

I wanted to go for help but couldn't leave Mia with Alvin. She would smile and watch him drown. I had no tools and no way of getting him on ground without putting him at even greater risk. I was stumbling in circles and tripping on the ridiculous scarf, now stretched beyond imagination. I tramped on it as I caught my balance and realized it was strong enough to get Alvin to shore. I staggered as close as I could to the edge of the river. What was that sound? A moan?

“What?” I yelled.

The weak call was lost in the wind and rain. But it was not time for a conversation. Alvin was trying to sit up.

“Keep still. You're by the open water.”

Alvin moved. The slab of ice tipped. Frantically, I unwound the scarf from my neck and tied one end to the trunk of the nearest alder.

“I'm going to toss you the scarf, then we'll go for help.”

Alvin kept trying to say something.

“Can't hear you. Don't try and talk. Do you have any feeling in your hands? Can you grip the scarf if I toss it to you?”

He must have been tremendously weakened. I couldn't make out a word. The slab wobbled and tilted more.

“For Christ's sake, stop moving,” I yelled.

He leaned forward.

“Shut up.” I tossed the scarf.

Alvin rose to his knees. “Behind you!”

I jerked around in time to see Mia Reilly bring down a piece of broken branch. I rolled to avoid the blow and slipped from the muddy bank into the water. I plunged to my waist. I reached out to grab at the vegetation on the side. To my left, Alvin's plate of ice tipped.

“Hang on,” I yelled.

The sumac held fast despite my weight. Mia Reilly kicked at my hands. Alvin moved closer. “Sorry, Camilla,” he said.

I tried to say “save yourself, Alvin,” but I inhaled a mouthful of icy, brown river. The wet wool coat hung like an anchor, the weight dragging me deeper into the water. If I let go of the sumac, I'd be finished. I kicked around and felt for something solid. My foot caught on a root. Mia's boot descended again.

“A tragic accident. I mean,
so
noble of you to die trying to save him.”

Behind me, Alvin went quiet. Was he already beneath the water, his lungs exploding as he shot under the ice?

Mia's heel landed on my hand. I screamed and let go. My boots were flooded, too heavy to tread water. I pumped my legs to kick off the Sorels. They held fast.

I fought back panic. I kicked my feet and grabbed at the buttons of the coat. My fingers didn't want to work.

I had a dim memory that your extremities cease to function after twenty seconds in near zero water. How long had it been? Felt like weeks. Goddam boots. The current sucked me toward the muddy river bottom. The cold was so intense, I felt little else. Every instinct sent my hands flailing upwards, toward the shore, splashing. I fought the urge and forced myself to work the buttons of my coat. My fingers grew too numb to feel.

A second's a hell of a long time when you're under water fighting for your life. My lungs were aching by the time the first button opened. The second took less time. I kicked as much as I could. The boots felt like weights.

Three buttons. Four. Five.

What would they say about me? She died with her boots on? Unable to unbutton her coat? I latched on to a root near the shore. It kept me from being swept under the ice. One boot slipped off. I put my energy into freeing the other.

My lungs were burning as I bent over in the water and forced myself to take off the second boot. I used one hand and grabbed the root with the other. This time my foot came out of the Sorel, which held fast in the roots.

I couldn't do it. Too hard. I heard my father's voice. “You're a MacPhee. We are not quitters.”

I fumbled until the coat opened. It slipped from my shoulders after a couple of weary shrugs. I felt the incredible lightness as the coat sank toward the river bottom.

Freed from my trap, I experienced the full pull of the current. With numb hands I clung to the root and gradually, painfully pulled myself toward the surface. Somehow now it didn't feel so cold. And, I didn't care much any more. What did it matter? Time to let go. Everything would be all right. Easy.

My father's voice again. “Not good enough. Get going.”

Bad girl, in cold water again. Sorry, Daddy.

When the going gets tough, the tough get climbing.

Hand over hand, that's all, Camilla. You'll get there. Hand over hand. Don't go to sleep. Don't.

Thanks, Daddy.

I felt the rush of air as my head crested the water.

“Well, well, well, I knew there was some reason those bubbles kept coming up,” said Mia Reilly. “Some people don't know when to quit. It's too bad you never learned to mind your own business.”

I spat out the filthy water. “People know we're here. They know about you.”

She looked around and laughed. “What people would they be? Nice bluff. Goodbye, Camilla.”

I clung to the root of the tree and fought to speak. “Why are you doing this?”

“You couldn't stop digging, could you. Do you think for one minute that I'm going to let you and your idiot assistant cause me to lose everything?”

She raised her foot.

“Wait, Mia. No one suspects you.”

“You couldn't just let things alone. I'm going to have a great marriage with the perfect man. He has a wonderful house, he drives a Jaguar, he's a partner in the biggest firm in town. I'll have the job I've always wanted. I didn't let Ralph wreck my career and my engagement, and I'm sure not going to let you do it. You're just not important enough to ruin everything. Don't bother looking over at that stupid kid. He's dead.”

I jerked my head. Alvin had disappeared. It was over. But she wouldn't get away with it if I could save myself. My fingers were starting to lose their grip on the roots. “Forensics will put two and two together.”

“They won't come up with this answer. Anyway, I'll have the perfect alibi tonight.”

She was quivering, a dangerous quiver for me. Dangerous for her too because off to the side, something inched forward, out of the water and up the embankment, something dark and dangerous, clinging to a Mickey Mouse scarf. Then it stopped, just stopped. Alvin lay still, a dark lump with a flash of neon orange. We were so close to making it. He couldn't die on me.

I grasped the base of the tree and pulled myself toward the shore, slipping and gasping. Adrenalin pumped through my system as I crawled upward and forward.

Mia was concentrating on me. She didn't notice even when the dark shape dragged itself to its feet and staggered in her direction.

“You always were a stubborn bitch, Camilla.” She raised her boot. Upward and forward.

I lay in the snow on the riverbank and barely managed to gasp: “Did you kill Rina too? Did you attack Mrs. Parnell?”

“You'll never know.”

“Watch me, Mia, I'm going to bring you down.”

She lunged toward me. Behind her, Alvin rose like the chief ghoul in a horror movie and launched himself.

“I don't think so,” she said.

Mia's knees buckled, as Alvin crashed into her. She pitched sideways and landed in the slush. I grabbed at her and caught a fist full of expensive hair. It gave me enough momentum to get onto solid ground. Mia lay still for a minute. She reared up again, just as I pulled myself to a kneeling position. Behind her, Alvin crumpled.

“I'll deal with you later,” Mia yelled. With a burst of speed, she pushed me back toward the water. I wasn't going there again. She bent over, her crazy face loomed above me. “Third time lucky, Camilla.” My hands were beyond feeling, my legs no longer worked. I heard my father's voice. “You're a MacPhee. MacPhees always use their heads.”

With my last bit of strength, I threw myself forward and butted her chin with the top of my skull. She screamed and fell back over Alvin. The scream stopped when her head hit the rock.

I tumbled toward the ground. I probably screamed too when my leg snapped.

Thirty-Two

L
eave me alone.” The wail of sirens hurt my ears. And this slapping business.

“Camilla, Camilla.”

If that person didn't stop slapping me, I'd just have to open my eyes and clout him.

“She's trying to talk. Listen.” Sounded a lot like Edwina.

Slap. Slap.

“I'm trying to say leave me alone.”

“What is it? What's she saying.”

“I don't know. She's just mumbling.”

“Down here. They're down here. You better hurry.” Who was that? McCracken? Wasn't he supposed to be somewhere else?

Who was crying? Alexa. I shouldn't have ruined her rehearsal. “Sorry, Alexa.”

“Oh, Camilla.”

“What's she saying?” A man's voice. Whose?

“It's okay, stay quiet. Camilla. You'll be all right.”

Slap me one more time and I'll tie your tail in knots, Mombourquette.

Leave me alone. Don't want to be lifted. Tired. Where is Alvin? Find Alvin. I don't want to go in there. Turn the light off. I don't need this cover on me, what is it? Heavy. I can't move my arms. Was that P. J.?

Not those goddam sirens again.

A hospital is not the place for a person like me. That goes double if the first furry face I see when I wrench open my eyes is Mombourquette's.

“What are you doing here?” I said, once I'd grasped the meaning of the intravenous feed, the clouds of carnations and the seasick green walls.

His nose twitched. “Just once, could you try not to be rude?”

“Not trying to be rude. I just expected something else.” I didn't know what, but it sure wasn't Mombourquette.

“Sorry to let you down. Just checking to see if you were up to giving us a statement yet.”

Wait a minute. If I was in the hospital, why wasn't my family crying and carrying on and reeling off rosaries to aid my recovery? “A statement? That's very sweet. Where are my sisters and my father?”

“They've been here. Keeping a vigil. But they just headed down the hall because the nurses were having a little do for Alvin.”

The memories of our night at the river came flooding back. “Is he all right?”

From down the hall came the sound of a group singing “Cheeseburger in Paradise.” “Never mind. I guess he is.”

“He had a close call. Thanks to you. The pneumonia's starting to react to the antibiotics.”

“Pneumonia? What do you mean, thanks to me? Thanks to Mia Reilly. Which reminds me, she's the one you want to talk to if you're looking for statements. She killed Benning. She admitted it. I think you'll find he'd been blackmailing her for years.”

Mombourquette yawned. “Tell me something I don't know. It's been going on since she joined the Crown Attorney's office. Benning was most likely the reason she took the job. She fiddled with enough cases to make us suspicious. That's what Randy Cousins was working on. She couldn't understand why every one of Benning's cases got tossed out or pled down. Randy already hated the SOB, and she'd figured out it had to be someone in the Crown attorney's office who was giving him the breaks. She's been watching Mia Reilly for months.”

It was hard to listen to Mombourquette at the best of times. But now my head wouldn't stop spinning, and my leg throbbed. For some reason, I felt like throwing up. But I couldn't stand to let Mombourquette believe he'd solved it.

“Let me fill in the blanks for you,” I said. “Benning liked to play dangerous games. He wouldn't have wanted Mia to marry, let alone marry a bigshot in the legal community. If she had solid emotional support, that would have loosened his hold on her. It was typical of Benning to turn up the blackmail burner just when things were going well for her. Only this time she had too much to lose. She's a tough little number, and she'd had enough. So she engineered his escape, slipped him a gun, and then arranged to meet him in the park. She slipped him some Rohypnol, shot him and slipped the body into the river to freeze.”

“Partly right. They found traces of Rohypnol.”

“Maybe Alvin and I wouldn't have risked death if you'd shared that information.”

“But only partly. What makes you think he was shot?”

“What?”

“She drugged him and let him freeze. He was not shot.”

For some reason I had trouble thinking straight, although that was none of Mombourquette's business. “I hope you turkeys didn't let her get away. Is she in custody?” I could hardly ask Mombourquette whose blood was at the river site without incriminating Lindsay.

“Yes. No bail either. And, by the way, we could have pulled the case together a lot faster without all your bullshit.”

“Speaking of pulling, pull the other one. Who owns all these flowers? They're everywhere.”

“Looks like you do. I can't imagine who sent them. Look, Conn and I and Randy Cousins just about had the case cracked.”

“You mean someone sent me a prickly cactus? Was that you?”

“No. But I can sympathize with the sentiment.”

“Why didn't you tell me what you were doing about Mia Reilly?”

“Gee, maybe because you're a civilian, and
were
the police?”

“But I had evidence. Are those red roses mine?”

“You had squat, Camilla.”

I kept quiet. I could feel my brain clicking. And high time too. There was only one person whose blood it could have been.

“Read my lips, Leonard. We had the answers. Alvin found Mia's fur-lined glove at the river site. I'll bet the farm the lab will find traces of Rina Benning's blood on it. I think Benning took Rina to the site and beat her seriously. When Mia joined him there, she doped him with her favourite substance, Rohypnol. She probably just did her coffee trick again. Then she bundled him up and left him to freeze. My guess is she arranged his body in that kneeling position and covered him with snow until rigour took over. Then she took Rina, who was probably dead or dying, in her car and dumped her in the country to get the search going in that area. Give herself time to play her game with Benning's body and throw suspicion on Elaine. And Lindsay too.”

Mombourquette stared at the wall, which more or less confirmed my theory.

I kept talking. “One thing that really bothered me was the ice on the body. After being in that river, I realize you don't have to be frozen through to get a layer of ice on you. Since she planned the whole thing and planned to frame Elaine from the beginning, I'm betting Mia came back to the park and rolled Benning's body into the shallow part of the river. At least the outer part would freeze pretty quickly with a nice coating of ice. You should probably be checking out winch rentals. Think about it. Mia would have been able to trot through that park without anyone noticing. Even if someone did notice, how could they identify her? Everything was to muddy the waters, throw suspicion on someone else. Obviously, Mia sent you the video and made the call for you to check out Lindsay. With two strong suspects, the police were guaranteed to go down the wrong road. Who knew better how to set up evidence than an Assistant Crown Attorney? Obviously, Mia thought we had enough information to be a serious threat to her, since she tried to kill us to keep it secret.” The room was whirling, but I still couldn't let Mombourquette scurry away. “So I hope you bagged that glove for evidence.”

“Of course we did. But I told you…”

“Don't forget to check out winch rentals. I'm telling you. Mia and Benning were not the only people at the site. Rina Benning was there too.”

“You think she was foolish enough to meet him there?”

“No, and that's been bothering me. Rina was terrified of Benning. She'd never let herself be alone with him, but why would she be afraid of a high profile Assistant Crown Attorney? Check out Mia's home, and you'll probably find the original tape. I think Benning called Mia, and she played that tape on a phone call to Rina's after she got Rina to leave. You can confirm the phone records.”

“You don't need to tell us how to do our jobs.”

“Good. Then you can build the case that Mia moved the dead or dying Rina to make it look like Benning was still alive. She may have killed her herself. It made Benning look like even more of a monster. Plus she would have wanted to confuse the times to establish an alibi. Just in case.”

Mombourquette's nose wrinkled. “Maybe it's worth looking into. But what makes you think she was lured there and killed? Why not killed in the car?”

“Call it a hunch.”

Mombourquette said, “You better not be holding out on me.”

“Speaking of holding out, how come you didn't show up at the river after I called? A lot of this could have been prevented.”

“Because I was at St. Jim's at six-thirty. For the rehearsal. I don't know why you bothered phoning.”

“I thought the rehearsal was at seven.”

“Wrong again.”

“I tried to reach you. You didn't answer.”

“You keep cellphones turned off in church. Which you'd know if you ever went.”

“If you didn't get my message, how did you find out where Alvin and I were in time? Well, not in time, but better late than never.”

“Talk about lack of gratitude. Mrs. Parnell was frantic and managed to make contact with your father at St. Jim's. I don't know how she did it, but she got through.” Mombourquette looked a bit puzzled. He doesn't know Mrs. P. as well as I do.

“She wasn't exactly sure where in the park, so we all raced out to find you. It's a good thing you were near death already. Those sisters of yours were ready to string you up.”

“I don't want to talk about that. Back to Mia. You saying you have enough on her without Alvin's evidence?”

“We've located the stolen van that transported Benning's body.”

“Drill hole in the door, right?”

“Yep.”

“She was the one who drilled the hole in Elaine's SUV and put Rohypnol in the coffee that drugged us and the cops.”

“Right. We found trace evidence supporting that in the SUV. We found the drill in her car. I'm surprised she kept it.”

“She was probably hanging on to it until she got rid of all the pesky investigators. Like Alvin and Mrs. P.”

“Anyway, forensics should be able to link it to the paint on the SUV and the van. I think we'll find her DNA on Elaine's clothes, now that we know what we're looking for.”

“You wouldn't have even looked for the drill if I hadn't told McCracken about it.”

“Hang on, Camilla. You were trying to blame it all on Randy. We were closing in on Mia anyway. Her source for the roofies blabbed. He'll testify in exchange for getting date rape charges dropped.”

Now I had something else to feel sick about. “That's disgusting. You think the Crown will take him up on that offer?”

“Might not have to. We're already picking holes in her statement.”

“Does the statement read like a confession?”

“No. But it's full of contradictions. She seems to have forgotten she came to at the river site and flipped out in front of plenty of witnesses, including the paramedics. Tried to fight her way out. Once it looked like you and Alvin were going to survive, she caved. That's even before the attempted murder charges for the attack on Mrs. Parnell. And you, of course, although that's more understandable.”

“Funny. I'd like to know how she knew to follow Mrs. Parnell.”

“She won't say anything about it. I think she was just trying to keep an eye on you and anyone connected with you. According to her office, she'd been missing time for minor medical complaints. Maybe she hung around outside your place or something. We're more interested that she's admitted to the big ticket item.”

“You mean she confessed to killing Benning?”

“According to the Crown, she's going to plead down to manslaughter and interfering with a body. Rumour is her lawyer will cite battered spouse syndrome as an extenuating circumstance.”

“What? Are you serious? This was completely and utterly premeditated, and you goddam well know it. What about Rina?” I shouldn't have waved my arms because it knocked the IV line loose.

This time he didn't meet my eyes. “We haven't proved that yet. She'll plead guilty to Benning, with extenuating circumstances, but not that. We're coming up empty on it. I think she'll walk on that one.”

“Goddam it. She can't.”

He shrugged. “We figure the Crown doesn't want a ton of media attention on this one. They'll accept a plea bargain and keep it low profile.”

I figured with P. J. Lynch on the job, it would stay high-profile. I'd be happy to help with that. “Unless they get her for Rina, Leonard.”

Mombourquette leaned in, uncomfortably close. “You'd better not be keeping anything from me.”

“I told you. I've got a feeling. Follow up on the glove and the tape of the message Benning left for Rina. See if he called her ‘Little Girl'. Don't interrupt, Leonard. And if there's blood in her car, I bet it will be Rina's.”

After everything she'd been through, I didn't see any reason to hand Lindsay over.

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