We started to walk away. I turned, then looked back in time to see Ed coming out, also handcuffed. He called to me. I went to him, reluctantly.
“I just want to say I’m sorry for everything.” he said. “I didn’t know what he was going to do.”
“And what if he had hurt me?”
“I’m sorry, I swear to God.” he said. He meant it, obviously. I felt sorry for him.
I heard a whimper and looked down at Martha wagging her tail tentatively.
“What’s going to happen to her?” I asked the constable.
“I don’t know. Guess they’ll call the humane society.”
“Would you mind if I took her?” I asked Ed. “I could look after her until you come back.”
Tears glinted in his eyes.
“I’d appreciate that, if it’s no bother.”
“I’ll make sure she’s all right.” I said.
I held Martha by the collar until the car drove off, then walked with her back towards the waiting group. She was whining.
“T.C., meet Martha.” I said. “You’ve always said you could look after a dog. Here’s your chance.”
“Are you serious?” T.C. asked, excitedly.
“If your mum will let you. And I’ll help convince her.”
“He’s pretty ugly.” Anthony said, dubiously.
“He’s a she, and beauty and pedigree aren’t everything, chum. You better remember that. And for that insult, you have to go to the corner store and get a can of dog food.”
I handed him five dollars. He ran across the street. T.C. borrowed my belt for a leash and we all started towards home.
“Who was that man?” Terry asked.
“A guy named Ed.”
“Was he part of the murder?”
“No, he’s just an incidental, a little bonus in the haul.”
“What did he do?”
“Not very nice things. Including under-the-counter child pornography. But he’s also a man who was kind to your mother and others like her, and he gets points from me for that.”
Anthony caught up with us at the next corner, where Tip Keenan was waiting, looking pretty rough.
“What’s going on?” Tip asked.
“We’re going back to the house to see about finding Pete a lawyer,” Andy said. “You’d better come.”
Once we got home, at Andy’s suggestion I called Ben Forrest, a lawyer known for his relentless advocacy in difficult cases. He promised to get right over to 55 Division, where Pete had been taken, and agreed to see the rest of the family in his Wellesley Street office later in the afternoon.
Then I turned the phone over to the Carlsons, who needed to call lawyers and bankers back home, and made a pile of sandwiches. Andy retired to the couch, on my orders, and Tip got drinks for all who needed them. The boys emptied the dishwasher and made themselves generally useful.
Martha the dog, in the meantime, had wolfed her food and curled up on an old blanket I’d put down in a corner of the living room. Elwy sat on the mantelpiece glaring across the room at her. I’d have to deal with that crisis later.
I brought in chairs from the dining room, and we settled in with our sandwiches. I was ravenous. The Carlsons didn’t eat.
“I just can’t figure out why he did it,” Neil said.
“Well, I didn’t want to say anything before.” Johnny said. “But when Dad came to Chicago, he told me that he thought Pete was stealing money from the company and asked me to come back and work with him. He thought he’d been betrayed, and I had to make good the family name.”
“But what about me?” Neil asked. “Why didn’t he ask me to do it?”
“Because he had other plans for you. You were going to be a lawyer and go into politics. He had it all mapped out. I was the only one who didn’t fit in. That’s why he came to see me. And that’s why I went away to think.”
“And now we know why Pete never returned your call,” Terry said. “He was here all along.”
“He must have followed Dad to the laneway, when he was looking for our mother.” Neil said.
“Or maybe he took him along,” said Terry. “I wonder where Pete got the knife.”
“Knives aren’t that hard to find.” Tip said.
I took another sandwich from the platter, feeling a bit guilty for being able to eat.
“Who did you talk to at home?” I asked Neil. “Did you call someone at the office? Not that it’s any of my business.”
“I called our uncle. He’s a vice-president. He’s taking charge for the moment. I also called Dad’s lawyer. He said he’d check out the guy here, Forrest, with some of his contacts. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, it’s a good idea,” Andy said. “You should be sure. I think you’ll find out he’s good. He’s put me through the wringer in court often enough.”
“Right,” Tip said. “If you want a good criminal lawyer, find one the cops hate. And he is good. I’ve worked with him before.”
A glum silence settled over the room. Terry broke it.
“What about our mother?” she asked. “Aren’t we going to keep on looking for her?”
“We’ve got to wait until she decides to show herself,” I said. “But I can put the word out in a couple of places.”
Tip got up from his chair.
“That’s all we can ask,” he said. “And thanks for all your help. Now I think we should get back to the hotel. Are you ready to go?”
The Carlsons stirred, reluctantly.
“You’ll let us know if you hear anything,” Terry said.
“Of course.”
They milled around for a moment, then left.
I went to the phone.
Chapter 45
I called Moira Bell.
“Look, I don’t know if you know where Maggie is, but if you do, tell her that it’s all over. She can come out of hiding.”
“What happened?”
I told her the story.
“I’ll let people know,” she said. “I truly don’t know where she is, but chances are someone around here might. I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything.”
My second call was to Janet Sachs. I caught her between patients and gave her the same news.
“That’s awful,” she said. “They must be upset.”
“Clearly,” I said. “I think they’re in shock. They just left here, and they’re completely whipped. I’m not sure what seeing their mother would do under the circumstances, but they would probably appreciate it.”
“Well, I think it’s safe to say they’ll get that chance soon,” she said, sounding a bit embarrassed.
“So you do know where she is.”
“No, I don’t, really,” she said. “But she did phone me again. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you should know. And she said she’d call again tonight.”
I gave her the Carlsons’ hotel information to pass on and made one last call.
Tanya Lowell, at NOW, jumped on the news about the arrest like Elwy on a mouse.
“Except, of course, we don’t come out for six more days,” she said. “So I guess I’ll have to share my scoop.”
“Maybe I can get Maggie to talk to you,” I said.
“That’s the best angle for me anyway. I’d appreciate that.”
“Well, I’ve heard she’ll be surfacing soon. I’ll do what I can for you. And I appreciate all your help.”
“No biggie,” she said.
I hung up and went back to the living room. Andy and the two boys were finishing off the food. I went and flopped down on the couch with my feet in Andy’s lap and closed my eyes. I was exhausted.
“Kate, look,” T.C. suddenly whispered. I opened my eyes. T.C. was pointing at Elwy.
The cat was making his way from the mantelpiece to the bookcase, then to the back of
the couch, not taking his eyes off Martha for a second. The dog was sound asleep. We all watched in silence as the cat padded carefully across the room, then sniffed at Martha’s tail. She woke up, startled, then lay stock still, her eyes rolling towards Elwy. She thumped her tail hopefully and Elwy jumped. When we all laughed, he stalked through the dining room to the kitchen, where he sat and washed himself with all the dignity he could find.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” I said.
“It will work out, in time,” Andy said.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him.
“Not bad,” he said. “For an old shot-up guy.”
“Speaking of old guys,” I said, “Tip Keenan’s not going to forget this morning for a while. You should have seen him when he realized he had to go after Pete, too.”
“I like Mr. Keenan,” T.C. said. “Are we going to see him again?”
“Yeah,” I said. “We’ll have him over for a barbecue one day soon.”
“What about tonight?” T.C. asked.
“Give me a break,” I said, closing my eyes again.
“Why not?” Andy said. “It’s a good night for a party.”
I opened my eyes and sat up.
“Oh, my God, what day is it?”
“August 26,” T.C. said.
I got to my feet and went over to his chair.
“Happy thirteenth birthday,” I said, and hugged him. “I feel like a complete idiot.”
“I’ll forgive you this time.”
“Just a second. Don’t move.”
I ran upstairs to the study and found his present. I brought it back down and gave it to him. He tore off the wrapping paper, Anthony hanging over his shoulder to look. When he saw the boots, T.C. was stunned.
“I’m not sure they go with your look,” I said.
“They are dead cool,” Anthony said.
T.C. quickly pulled them on. They fit. I breathed a sigh of relief. He stood up proudly with the boots on.
“They don’t quite make it with bare legs,” I said, “but they suit you.”
“Kate, you’re the best,” T.C. said, hugging me. “Thank you for the best present ever.”
“Looking good, T.C.,” Andy said.
By seven-thirty that night, with Andy’s help, I’d baked a cake, tied balloons all over the garden, and organized T.C.’s little party. Tip Keenan brought his son, Mike. He was only eleven, but T.C. and Anthony were kind enough to make him feel like he belonged. They sat on the porch with Maggie the dog, talking about school, computers, baseball, and all the other things kids use to explore possibilities of friendship. Andy was on the phone to Walt Stimac. I was getting the grill ready while Tip and Sally talked about work, kids, home towns, and the other things grown-ups use to explore the same possibilities.
When Andy came back downstairs, we were all anxious to find out what Stimac had told him.
“Well, I’m afraid it doesn’t look very good for Pete,” he said. “He’s not talking, but Hoss is, and the evidence is piling up almost as quickly as his alibi’s falling down.”
“What did Walt tell you?” I asked. “How did it happen?”
“Well, it looks like Pete made a quick trip here on Thursday and went to see his father at the hotel. The doorman remembers getting them a cab to this area at dinnertime that night. Walt is assuming that Pete convinced his father to show him where Maggie had been living. They’re canvassing the restaurants in the neighbourhood, since Hoss’s testimony places them in the lane late that night. He saw everything.”
“What was he doing there?” I asked. “He wasn’t making much sense when I talked to him.”
“Apparently, he was hiding out in a neighbour’s yard, hoping he would spot Maggie if she came back for her things. He planned to follow her and find out where she was hiding. Then he could let Carlson know and get the money. He witnessed the murder, as it turns out.”
“He was just about to tell me when you guys arrived,” I said to Tip.
“He saw them arguing. Then Pete killed Carlson, and ran. That’s when Hoss, thinking Pete was gone for good, stole Carlson’s wallet. But Pete came back. Walt figures he’d just gone to scout out a place to hide the body. I guess he found the old garbage bags to wrap him in, too.”
“I don’t understand,” Sally said. “If he went to all that trouble to obliterate his father’s identity, why was he the one to raise the alarm?”
“He did it to draw attention from himself,” Andy said.
“Looking back, you know, I should have noticed some things,” Tip said. “Like he phoned me on Friday looking for his father. That’s the day you kids found the body. I saw the story about the unidentified victim in Saturday’s paper and called Stimac. He called Pete, and he was here, dental records in hand, on Sunday night.”
“He must have already had them,” Sally said.
“Walt’s got the Milwaukee police looking into all that,” Andy said. “They’re talking to people he worked with, checking out what Johnny said about Pete being in trouble at work. They’ll also search his home for the weapon and talk to the airlines to find a flight he might have taken. It will take some time, but they’ll put it all together. Thanks, in part, to Hoss’s statement.”
“What’s going to happen to him?” Anthony asked.
“Well, he’s charged with theft of the wallet, forcible confinement of our nosy friend here, and resisting arrest. But the Crown will probably make some sort of deal with his lawyer in return for his testimony.”
“And what about Ed?” I asked.
“Put it this way,” Andy said. “I think Elwy’s going to have to get used to Martha. It looks as if she’s going to be with us for a while.”
T.C. patted the dog, then asked a question only a thirteen-year-old boy would ask, especially at dinnertime.
“Did they ever find the guy’s hands?”
“T.C., that’s a revolting question,” his mother said.
“Well, like, they might be still around here somewhere,” he said to Anthony and Mike. “Do you want to go look?”
“Yeah, cool,” Mike said.
The adults intervened, and I went up to the kitchen to get the steaks. When I got back to the grill, Janet Sachs popped her head over the garden gate.
“Can you stand some more company?” she asked.
“Did Maggie call?”
“She did,” Janet said, opening the gate. “Better than that, here she is.”
Maggie followed her into the garden, warily. T.C. whooped and jumped down from the porch.
“Her children are on the way to pick her up,” Janet said.
“That’s great,” Sally said. “You must be thrilled.”
In truth, she looked more scared than anything else. She’d got rid of the wig and stood fussing with her short, greying hair.
“I don’t know if this is going to work,” she said, a bit gruffly.
“Of course it will,” I told her. “It might not be easy, but you’ll find a way.”
“I wanted to say thank you,” she said. “For helping me and all. Especially you boys.”
“You’ll come back and see us, won’t you?” T.C. asked.
“If I can,” she said.
“But what’s going to happen now?” he asked. “Are you going to go away with your family?”
“We’ll see,” she said.
“One step at a time, right, Maggie?” Janet Sachs said. “Now we’d better get back to my house. They’ll be here soon.”
“Wait a second, Maggie, don’t go yet,” T.C. said, and ran to the house. He came back a moment later with the shoebox full of Maggie’s photographs.
“We saved this for you. It looked important.”
She took it, lifted the lid, and smiled.
“It is,” she said. “Thank you.”
&n
bsp; Then she looked to Janet.
“All right,” she said. “I’m ready.”
T.C. and Anthony followed them down the lane, not ready to let her go. Andy turned to me.
“Is this a happy ending?” he asked.
“Probably not,” I said. “But it might be a good beginning.”
Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the kind assistance of many, including Drs. Pearson and Malthaner of the Toronto Hospital, Superintendent Wayne Oldham of the Metropolitan Toronto Police, Janni Mills of Sistering, Susan G. Cole of NOW Magazine, copy editor Lynn Schellenberg, the wonderful, ever-patient Paul Bennett, and this time particularly, Ellen Seligman, for asking all the really annoying questions that needed to be answered.
About the Author
Alison Gordon is a Canadian journalist and writer. As the first woman on the baseball beat in the Major Leagues, Gordon was a trailblazer in the field of sports journalism, covering the Toronto Blue Jays for the Toronto Star for five years. Gordon is also the author of the Kate Henry mystery series, pitting the sleuthing talents of a baseball journalist against dangerous felons. The series includes the titles The Dead Pull Hitter, Safe at Home, Night Game, Striking Out, and Prairie Hardball.
Copyright
Striking Out © 1995 Alison Gordon
All rights reserved under all applicable International Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
EPub Edition XX 2014 ISBN: 9781443442473
Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
Originally published by McClelland & Stewart Inc. in 1995. First published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd. in this ePub edition in 2014.
This is a work of fiction. The events and characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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