Law and Disorder

by Mary Jane Maffini

  “I bet you did,” I said. “Do you want to put them down for a minute?”

  “Sure,” she said, smiling.

  Destiny galloped into the living room, pursuing Gussie, who seemed anxious to get away. She stopped and stared at the lemon squares.

  I said, “Tell me, Jacki, did Roxanne ever suspect a thing?”

  Jacki’s crisp jaw dropped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do.”

  Destiny’s eyes stayed on the squares.

  I said, “You’d had real estate dealings with her. You were in and out of the Terrio and Fox offices all the time. You would have found out a bit about her habits. Perhaps more than Kristen Wentzell did in their meeting. You could have learned when she was heading out to Gatineau park without exciting the least bit of suspicion. Then, of course, you’d make sure you had an alibi when Jamie Kilpatrick, another cyclist, knocked her off her bike. No one would ever guess Roxanne’s connection with the driver who killed Jamie’s grandparents. Oh yes, nicely played. Of course, it’s just a matter of time until one of the others rolls over on you.”

  Destiny picked up the large square that was intended for me and licked her lips. Behind her, Gussie licked his lips too. Destiny opened her mouth wide enough to pop in the entire square. Jacki stared. Just in time, I twigged. I snatched the square from Destiny and handed it to Mombourquette. “Better get this analyzed, Leonard. Here’s a woman who doesn’t mind if a child dies so she can make her point. Do you, Jacki?”

  Destiny set up a loud shriek, enough to bring Bunny and Tonya running.

  Jacki whispered, “It was for you. I wouldn’t have let the child die.”

  “Very sporting of you. You didn’t mind if her father died, though, did you?”

  “That’s different. He was a thief. A vile thief. He robbed my mother’s house. She never got over it, the sense of violation. She died well before her time. People like him do immeasureable harm.” She glared at Bunny and curled her lip in contempt. “Some of the victims never recover from the damage.” She turned her attention to me. “Do you know that? Do you even care? You certainly had no problem defending him. I remember how easily you made mincemeat out of that inexperienced prosecutor. You earned your living ensuring that criminals like this stayed out of jail. My mother was never the same after that burglary. Her life was shortened. He should have paid and you should have too. Instead he went on to have a wife and a child and lead a charmed life, and you just keep making trouble.”

  “When you made the deal with Annalisa to burn his house down, he and his child would almost certainly have died. Forget what piddling crimes you think Bunny and I might be guilty of, what kind of monster does that make you? You were willing to become a child killer to act out your revenge fantasies.”

  Tonya and Bunny stared with horror at the woman who had come so close to ending their lives. I tried not to be bothered by the fact that Jacki would certainly find a lawyer who would bring tears to the eyes of the jury by trotting out the sad case of her mother. And maybe he’d succeed with the crazy defence too.

  “Jacki, this is Sergeant Leonard Mombourquette of Major Crimes. Did you know that the sergeant here was a good friend of Roxanne’s? He’s really looking forward to talking to you at the station.”

  As she bolted for the front door, the sight of a pair of uniformed officers stopped her. 911. You gotta love it. She turned back to me.

  I said, “Don’t try to escape through the backyard. There are people here who might take issue with you about your part in the sinking of the Leila Q.”

  “I wasn’t on the boat! Jamie and the others did most of that. My job was to take care of you in case you didn’t actually accept the invitations.”

  “Which I didn’t. That almost got my friend’s children killed. Their father is a police officer. Don’t think he’ll be forgetting about that soon. Nor will anyone forget Steve Anstruther,” I said. “You took care of him, didn’t you? I’m betting that’s why you had your vehicle vinyl-wrapped. To hide the damage without actually going to a body shop when the police were investigating Anstruther’s so-called accident. It will be easy enough to check for scrapes and dents behind the vinyl. Of course, you planned that ahead of time in order to have your custom vinyl wrap with your photo and name made. Because you like to think of everything, although, in this case, that advance planning will make life a bit more difficult for your defence.”

  The look on Jacki’s face told me these wild speculations hit the mark.

  Mombourquette took over. “Sorry, Ms Jewell. I have a bit of bad news for you. It looks like Steve is going to recover. And there’s an excellent chance he’ll recognize you as the person who forced him off the road. Of course, we’ll be able to compare paint from your vehicle to the traces found on his too.”

  Jacki slumped against the wall as Mombourquette stepped forward. “Even more bad news, lady. Now I get to take care of you. I guess this is your last house party.”

  He was in the middle of the arrest when I had a horrible thought, “I hope this doesn’t wreck the house sale.”

  As the uniforms, Mombourquette, Jacki Jewell and the lemon squares zoomed off to Elgin Street, I pushed open the back door to return to the party and stopped to watch. Brittany and Ashley were alternately gobbling deviled eggs and regaling Mrs. Parnell with some tale of dragon boat racing, I guess, or maybe their dramatic Sunday afternoon boat ride. No wait. She was regaling them. One of those WW II fighter reenactments.

  She paused in the telling to blow a few smoke rings. They add a certain drama to any retelling.

  One of the girls threw back her head and laughed long and hard at something Mrs. Parnell said. They sure had amazing teeth. Ray must have spent a fortune at the orthodonist for the two of them. The other one laughed too, reinforcing the point.

  Maybe they were turning out all right after all. But they weren’t getting all the deviled eggs. Age has its privileges.

  The fish chowder was a hit and we all fell on it like wolves. Even Gussie looked impressed at the frenzy. He and the cat got their own small bowls. By the time we were stuffing our faces with oat cakes and blueberry grunt and the surprisingly wonderful date tarts known as Cape Breton Pork Pies, Elaine had ingratiated herself with both the girls and their friends. They all got big giant clinches. When Elaine Ekstein hugs you, you know you’ve been hugged. P. J. was angling for a wide variety of hugs.

  But by far the best part of the evening, better even than Jacki’s arrest, was the surprise visitor.

  Ashley or maybe Brittany shrieked, “Dad!” They both flung themselves at the grinning man at the door.

  I spilled my Moosehead in surprise. I wanted to do a little flinging of myself too, but I wasn’t sure how well I’d be received.

  The food and the guests were gone, the sky was starting to lighten, and Ray and I were sitting alone in a quiet corner, surrounded by party debris, when I finally got to say, “I am so sorry. I almost got your girls killed.”

  “Lennie explained it to me. No way you could have known. And they didn’t get killed. You pulled out all the stops, Camilla. Lennie told me that too. Even so, I guess there’s only one thing I can do.”

  I bit my lip. I knew that Ray had put up with a lot from me. I was going to be lost without him.

  He said, “I haven’t wanted to talk to you about this until I had everything worked out. This long-distance relationship is really difficult.”

  I hated my desolate vision of lonely nights without Ray on the end of the phone line. I reached over, and picked up the last soothing Nanaimo bar and shoved it into my mouth in one gulp.

  Eventually I was able to swallow and say, “Is it really necessary? I am sorry. I’ll try to be more…” I wasn’t sure more what.

  “I can’t change my mind now,” he said. “I’ve put too much into it.”

  “Into breaking up with me?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not breaking up with you. I’ve arranged a job w
ith the Ottawa Police Services.”

  I stared at him.

  “Why do you have that look on your face? I know, you think the Ottawa guys are a bunch of bums, but it’s a good force and the chief is from New Waterford. Excellent opportunity for me. I’ve been brushing up on my French with this intensive weekend course. I’m told my Acadian French might not cut it up here.”

  “I don’t understand. You’re going to leave Sydney?”

  He shrugged. “My girls have left home already. It’s too quiet and it’s lonely. I miss them.”

  “I may even miss them a bit myself,” I said. To my surprise, that wasn’t as big a fib as it might have been.

  “They’re moving on with their lives. You’re here in Ottawa, getting into a lot of trouble without me.”

  “It wasn’t my fault. Things got complicated.”

  “Life with you is always complicated,” Ray said. “Lucky for me, it’s worth it. So now you’ll just have to put up with me to add to your complications, Camilla. Like now, you have chocolate on your mouth. Let me fix that for you.”

  Acknowledgements

  Every book starts out with major debts to the many people who supported the project, the author and the process. Camilla and I owe so much to Susan McCarthy, who is passionate about the Dragon Boat Festival and who, along with Chris Raines, was generous with time and information. As usual, Janet MacEachen came through to keep Camilla in line. I am grateful to Mary MacKay-Smith, Victoria Maffini, John Merchant and Linda Wiken for insights on the manuscript, and most especially to Lyn Hamilton, who took the time to read and comment on Law & Disorder despite her grave illness. Many thanks to Ronnie Keough, Rick Mofina, Stephan Dirnberger, Cody Crosby of Spytech and Lieutenant Brad Grant of Ottawa Fire Services for essential information. If there are any errors, they are mine, of course.

  As for the real Beverly Leclair, thank you and your family for supporting REACH, a great cause. Speaking of great causes, the SPCA of Western Quebec’s inspired description of their adoptable dogs warms the heart and opens doors.

  You may recognize much of Ottawa. But don’t tear your hair out looking for previously unknown streets, charitable organizations, restaurants, boat companies, offices or businesses. Sometimes a story requires a little flexibility. It’s one of the joys of fiction. And of course, familiar readers will know that Camilla will always make a left turn wherever it suits her, signs notwithstanding.

  To the RendezVous Crime gang, Sylvia, Allister and Emma, I appreciate everything you do to make my books come alive. And on the home front, thanks to my husband, Giulio, for ongoing patience and support, and to Daisy and Lily for extra cuddles.

  Before she fell into a life of crime, Nova Scotia-born Mary Jane Maffini was a librarian, a public servant and a mystery bookstore owner. Law & Disorder is the latest of six books featuring cranky Camilla MacPhee. West Quebec is the setting for the comic Fiona Silk mysteries. The third series features Charlotte Adams, a professional organizer and amateur sleuth in upstate New York.

  Mary Jane has been a two-term president of the Crime Writers of Canada, a charter member of the Ladies’ Killing Circle, and has served on the board of directors of the Canadian Booksellers Association. She has won two Arthur Ellis awards for Best Short Story. She is a frequent speaker on the writing process, mysteries and Canadian crime writing. Mary Jane lives and plots in Ottawa, along with her long-suffering husband and two princessy dachshunds.

  Find out more at www.maryjanemaffini.com

  BOOKS BY MARY JANE MAFFINI

  The Camilla MacPhee series

  Speak Ill of the Dead, The Icing on the Corpse, Little Boy Blues,

  The Devil’s in the Details, The Dead Don’t Get Out Much, Law & Disorder

  The Fiona Silk series

  Lament for a Lounge Lizard, Too Hot to Handle

  The Charlotte Adams series

  Organize Your Corpses, The Cluttered Corpse,

  Death Loves a Messy Desk