The Corpse With the Golden Nose

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The Corpse With the Golden Nose Page 21

by Cathy Ace


  Sheri MacMillan was the first to approach me, though I knew that her son was the real draw.

  “Why don’t you come sit over here?” she suggested, waving an arm toward one of the little tables dotted around the room. “I can give you a hand.”

  “No, Mom. Cait doesn’t need any help, she can manage on her own.” Colin sounded terribly grown up; apparently more so to his mother than to me.

  “Yes, dear,” she replied, looking shocked.

  Colin made sure I had a clear path to reach the table, pulled out a chair for me, and turned it at an angle, so it was easier for me to sit. As I settled myself, I could see Bud and Serendipity leave the room through a swing door. I guessed they were headed to the kitchen. I knew I had to buy time.

  I allowed everyone to fuss around me. The story was that I’d fallen while out on a walk and that I hadn’t wanted to miss the evening and besides, it all looked a lot worse that it really was.

  Ellen was particularly attentive. She brought me a plate of food, which looked wonderful, and, at one point, I thought I might even manage to eat a few things from it. Suzie Soul, our hostess for the evening, arrived with a glass of water, and a glass of champagne. She even smiled sweetly. Sammy stood beside her and smiled too.

  “What do ya think of the room?” asked Sammy, with obvious pride. “Quite a collection. Lotta years on these walls. Lotta years, and a lotta miles. Touring. Recording. My history. Suzie loves this room, don’t ya, Babe?”

  “It’s a really great honor to be here, Sammy,” I replied. “That’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to miss this evening. I knew that whatever you and your family had out here, it would be special.”

  Having proved I could at least form a sentence, however alarming I might look, Sammy seemed happy to stay and chat. He took the seat next to me.

  “You’re interesting,” he said bluntly.

  “How so?” I asked, intrigued.

  “A marketer and a cop? Odd. And since you two guys showed up, man, everything’s gone a bit mad. It’s not usually like this here—all drama. It’s usually pretty quiet. But since you got here, my Babe’s been a bit off, you’ve had this fall, and then there’s the accident, of course. Man, that’s a bad vibe. Nice people. Gordy was fifteen years older than me. I hope I’ve got that much juice when I’m his age.”

  I looked at Sammy. Fifteen years between him and Gordy Wiser? Gordy had raised six kids, built a business that supported them, educated them, and then had set him and Marlene up for the rest of their lives, all with his bare hands, his knowledge of the soil and the seasons, and the sweat of his brow. Sammy Soul had taken his sweat, and his hands, and had made a guitar weep like only he could. He’d built all this. Such different lives, but they weren’t so very different under their skins. Just fifteen years apart, but a whole different generation and lifestyle.

  I also looked over at Suzie. She and Marlene couldn’t have been more dissimilar and, true, Marlene was possibly old enough to have been her mother, but, again, what a difference. Chalk and cheese.

  That was what Marlene had said about Annette and Ellen, and it set me thinking about the truth of that observation. As I did, I realized I was crying. I wasn’t sobbing, but an unheralded tear was rolling down my cheek. I didn’t even bother to reach for my purse—what would have been the point?

  “Anyone got a hanky I can have, please? Or a paper napkin?” Ellen, Sheri, and Suzie each passed one in my direction. What’s the collective noun for paper tissues? A rustling? A moistening?

  I dabbed at my face silently, and I was relieved to see that no one wanted to make eye contact with me, except Colin, who was right beside me, watching my every move.

  I can recall with total clarity what happened next. It was one of the most amazing hours of my life. Of course I’ll never forget it, I never forget anything. But this hour? Stellar!

  I pushed the used tissue into my purse, and turned to find Ellen hovering beside me with yet another glass in her hand.

  “It’s ours,” she gushed. “The pinot noir ice wine. Not the ‘Annette,’ of course, that’s not ready, but this was my sister’s most award-winning ice wine. Please have some? We’re all going to drink a toast to Marlene and Gordy in a minute.”

  I smiled. I felt I couldn’t refuse. I took the glass. It was big, for ice wine, and heavy. My hand was shaking. My head was thumping. The room was warm, stifling: I could smell the seafood on the plate on the table in front of me mixed with Sheri MacMillan’s sickly, flowery perfume beside me, and, for some reason, as I took the glass from Ellen, I suddenly fancied some chocolate. And not just any chocolate: Reese’s Pieces. Bizarre!

  Sammy Soul moved to the center of the room just as Bud and Serendipity re-entered it. Bud threw me a nod and flashed fifteen fingers at me. Okay, somehow I had to busk for fifteen minutes. It looked like Sammy was about to help me out on that front, because he tapped his glass with one of the many rings on his hand and a hush fell over our weird little gathering.

  “Hey, though you might think I do a lot of this stuff, I don’t, right, Babe?” He grinned at his wife, and she wriggled coquettishly in his general direction. “I kinda let my guitar do the talking for me all those years, but today is different. Special. Man, they were cool dudes, right? Gordy and Marlene? Him always moanin’, her always fussin’. They loved each other, man. Loved each other. All those years together. All those kids. Kids are tough. Except my angel here, of course.” There were suitable mutterings around the room.

  “Tonight was gonna be my Serendipity’s night. The night she did her thing and we all went ‘Wow’ and she got to be the star. ’Cos that’s what she is. A star. I know she’d want me to say what I’m gonna say. All this,” he waved his arm expansively toward the food, “all this, is nothing, compared with the lives we lost today. It’s fabulous, my angel, but Marlene and Gordy were fabulous too. They’ll be missed. So, hey, come on guys, raise your glasses and let’s have a toast. Cait—stay, don’t get up”—he looked directly at me, as did everyone else—“Now, here’s to Gordy and Marlene Wiser.”

  Everybody raised their glasses, me included, and repeated the toast loudly and with gusto: “Gordy and Marlene Wiser!” We all drank.

  “Well, that’s mighty nice of you folks, but you could have waited till we got here!” It was Gordy Wiser, standing in the doorway, and next to him was Marlene.

  Sheri let out a little scream.

  Colin nodded, smiled, and said, “Cool.”

  Lauren crossed herself, and said, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it’s a miracle!”

  “That it is,” agreed her husband.

  Sammy dropped his glass.

  Suzie swore, loudly.

  Ellen gripped the edge of the table she was standing next to.

  “How wonderful!” exclaimed Lizzie.

  Grant clasped his crystal necklace and began bowing and bobbing.

  Raj gasped, “By ’eck!”

  Serendipity beamed.

  Bud mouthed something unrepeatable, and I felt the room swim, the mists form, and the next thing I knew, my head was hitting the table.

  Suddenly I was surrounded.

  “Give her air, give her air!” called Lauren.

  “Someone bring her a glass of water. I think I need one too!” shouted Sheri.

  I sat upright, my head lolling like a baby. I tried to focus on the Wisers, who were rushing toward me.

  “What’s been going on?” asked Marlene, looking concerned. “We’re sorry we’re late, we got caught up at C’est la Vie. We only popped in for a quick cup of coffee this afternoon, and we ended up running into some old friends. We haven’t even been home to change for dinner. Sorry, Sammy dear, you’ll have to take us as we are.”

  “But you’re dead,” I said, bluntly. Someone had to.

  “Have you bumped your head, dear?” asked Marlene, peering into my eyes. “I think you should see a doctor.”

  “Cait’s fine,” said Bud firmly. “She’s right. I . . . we saw you, this aftern
oon. Your car. It crashed, exploded, and burst into flames. At the base of the final bend leading to Anen Close. It went right into the cliff face. It burned. I saw you sitting in it.” Bud was clearly flabbergasted.

  A grim look crossed Marlene’s face. “Our car?”

  Bud nodded. Everyone nodded.

  Sheri handed me a glass of water. I took it, and sipped.

  “Oh dear. That’s bad. Very bad,” said Gordy. “We weren’t in it. We decided to walk home, change out of our costumes, then walk on all the way down to the waterfront. It was such a lovely day. We thought you all knew. We told Rob.”

  “You told Rob?” exclaimed his wife. “When did you tell him? Where did you tell him? I haven’t seen him all day, not since Dave arrived with you guys on your boat before lunch.” She nodded in the direction of Sammy and Suzie. “Did Dave and Rob come back over to West Kelowna with you on the boat?” she asked. The Souls shrugged and shook their heads.

  “Serendipity got us out of there, you know, in a bit of a hurry,” muttered Sammy, acquiring himself a fresh drink.

  “So where are they then?” asked Sheri.

  Oh heavens!

  “Well that’s the thing, dear,” replied Marlene, moving toward Sheri. She nodded at her husband, who moved closer to Colin. “We gave our car keys to Rob, in case he needed to move it at all. In case it was in anyone’s way. And he said that he and Dave might drive into town, later on. Now, I don’t know if that’s what happened, but if they did . . .”

  A strangled “Oh” came from Colin.

  “What?” asked Sheri of her son.

  Colin shook his head. “It was Dad. Dad and Dave in the car. In the Wisers’ car. When it blew up.”

  “No! Don’t be ridiculous!” Sheri’s eyes searched our group for someone who would tell her it couldn’t be so. “Rob wouldn’t have driven. Not after all that . . . not having drunk so much. He’s not that stupid. It can’t have been him.”

  “Well, if not him, then who?” asked Marlene Wiser, rubbing Sheri’s back. “And where’s he got to?”

  “Oh, he’ll turn up. He always turns up, sooner or later.” Sheri MacMillan almost sounded sure of herself.

  “Mom, stop it! Stop it. It was Dad. He was drunk, like he always is. It was Dad!” Colin MacMillan was suddenly seventeen, going on ten. “Mom, Daddy’s dead. I saw him, I saw it. He burned. I saw my Daddy burn!” He was red in the face, tears streaming. He was pulling at his hair.

  I shook my head. The immense joy we’d all felt at seeing Gordy and Marlene alive in our midst had been sucked out of us by the loss we were seeing unfolding before us. What a day! I need a cigarette.

  But it was clear that the drama wasn’t finished.

  With Colin sobbing on Gordy’s shoulder, Sheri wailing into Marlene’s, Sammy shouting orders to the barman to bring a round of large brandies for everyone, and me wondering if I’d be able to light a cigarette one-handed again, another disturbance grabbed our collective attention.

  The door from the kitchen flew open, banging against the wall of the dining room, and we could hear pots tumbling beyond it. Serendipity flung herself into the room, and caught the edge of the tablecloth on the serving table. As she fell to the ground, clutching her throat, the cloth in her hand brought food tumbling onto the floor. Plates smashed, domed lids rang out like mournful bells, food splattered, and we all sat, or stood, paralyzed.

  Only Colin moved. He tore himself from Gordy’s arms and ran toward Serendipity, screaming “No!” His arm was raised and something glinted in his fist. Something metallic. As he approached the woman’s writhing body, her father leapt forward, trying to grab Colin’s arm.

  “Get away from my angel!” he screamed, and lunged for Colin. But Colin had the advantage of youth on his side, and all that Sammy grabbed was air. As Sammy went down, we all saw Colin, stabbing Serendipity in the thigh, hard.

  Suzie screamed, then flew at Colin. She threw herself on him, a frenzied figure made up of snarling teeth and flashing claws. She pulled his hair and beat him with her fists. Sammy picked himself up off the floor and tried to remove his wife. It seemed she was on top of Colin for an age, but it was probably no more than a matter of seconds.

  As Sammy finally managed to pull her away, Colin let himself flop, rolling onto the floor beside Serendipity, who was still moaning and holding her throat.

  “Call 911,” croaked Colin. “Peanuts—Mom—peanuts!”

  I suddenly realized what had happened. My wrist and ankle aside, I had to be heard. I stood up, using the table for support.

  “Sammy, Suzie—where does Serendipity keep her Epi-Pen? Quick! Colin needs it. He just used his own on your daughter. Now he needs one too. Where is your daughter’s Epi-Pen? Fetch it quick. Now!” Neither of them answered. They looked dazed.

  “Colin? What’s wrong?” Poor Sheri was having one hell of an evening. “Are there peanuts? Where are there peanuts? I don’t understand!”

  “Sheri.” I addressed the distraught woman directly and calmly. “Serendipity was suffering an allergic reaction to peanuts. Colin recognized the symptoms, and he used his Epi-Pen to save her. The contact between him and Serendipity has led to Colin having enough of an exposure for him to suffer an allergic reaction himself. That’s why we need Serendipity’s Epi-Pen, so it can be used to treat Colin.”

  I turned to the Souls who were both looking a great deal the worse for wear, and still completely confused.

  “She’s always got one in her pocket,” replied Suzie, snapping out of her stupor. “Why didn’t she use it herself?”

  “Quick, Bud, check Serendipity’s pockets,” I called, but Bud was already on it.

  “Nothing,” he said. I was beginning to get a bad feeling about Colin, who was grasping at his throat as he lay on the floor beside the chef he’d just selflessly saved.

  “Oh, oh—I’ve got one, I’ve got a spare one!” shouted Sheri, coming to her senses and rising to her feet. “Where’s my purse? It’s red.” Everyone scanned the room.

  “Got it!” shouted Bud as he ran to a table diagonally opposite us, grabbed up a large, red-leather purse, dumped its entire contents onto the table, and pulled an Epi-Pen from the heap. He ran toward Colin and stabbed him in the thigh.

  Everyone breathed out.

  “I’m calling 911,” said Bud. He’s good at being in charge.

  Sheri ran to her son’s side. The Souls knelt by their daughter. I drank the rest of the ice wine in my glass, and immediately regretted it.

  Almost no one noticed the two RCMP officers who stuck their heads into the room, caught Bud’s eye, and beckoned him outside.

  I sighed. I looked up. Lauren was hovering.

  “I wonder, Lauren, could I bother you to give me hand outside, please? I’m going to take this little window of opportunity to go and smoke a cigarette.” God, I needed one!

  She tutted, but smiled. “Sure I will. It’s out through that door there, and around the side. Come on with you now.”

  As I hobbled, she held my good arm, and we made it out quite quickly. I limped toward the large decorative pot that was filled with fine, white sand with a few butts in it, and lit up. As I balanced myself against the edge of the pot I saw it: a long stub of a slightly wet-looking cigarette. I picked it up and sniffed.

  Of course! Clever!

  That sealed it. If I’d been in any doubt at all about the murders, that was the final nail in the murderer’s coffin. I had them! I asked Lauren if I could borrow her cellphone for a moment, to make a long distance call, and she said she didn’t mind at all—so long as it was a quick one. I assured her it would be. She agreed to go inside and find me a Ziploc bag and bring it out to me. I knocked the glowing end off the cigarette stub that I’d found, and set it aside for the cops. I puffed as hard as I could on the last thin little cigarette from my pack, pulled the number I needed to call from my purse, and made my call—apologizing profusely for disturbing the poor man’s sleep. Finally, I stubbed out my cigarette and had a quiet wo
rd with myself.

  Alright, Cait Morgan. Here we go, then. Time for the show. You’d better be good.

  The paramedics would arrive very soon to take Serendipity and Colin, and quite possibly me, to the emergency room, so I didn’t have much time.

  As I hobbled back inside, with Lauren’s help, Bud gave me the nod. Oh bless him, he had absolutely no idea what I was about to do, and yet I could tell he was supporting me totally and completely.

  Love you, Bud! Okay—now or never Cait!

  Champagne and Cup-a-Soup

  “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” BUD BEGAN loudly. His voice rang out across the small dining room. It was a very commanding voice. Hey, he had been a commanding police officer in the Force, right?

  “Can I have your attention, please? Everyone, please, sit down. It’s just for a few moments while we wait for the ambulances to arrive.”

  I allowed myself to take in the scene around me.

  Bud helped Sheri to lift Colin onto a seat at an unoccupied table. The boy flopped there, pale, panting, and sipping water. His mother’s love for him was obvious in every look, touch, and movement.

  At the next table sat Serendipity, attended to by both Sammy and Suzie. Raj was perched at her side. I hadn’t seen Vince Chen at the dinner, and suspected that dodging crockery at lunchtime had been his cue to exit Kelowna and head for the comparative safety of another winemaking region.

  Beyond the two “sick” tables was the “dead” table: Gordy and Marlene sat alone, holding each others’ hands, clearly trying to come to terms with all the shocks of the past half hour.

  Across the room from the Wisers’ table, Lizzie and Grant Jackson were also sitting very close to each other. She was blinking at the goings on through her giant spectacles, he fiddling with the crystal that lay on his breast. Opposite them sat Ray Murciano and Gloria Thompson, the two people the Jacksons employed at their store and restaurant.

  Lauren and Pat were at my table, Lauren making sure I had hankies, water, and whatever else I needed, and Ellen came to join us.

  Everyone looked surprised when Bud came across the room to help me to my feet.

 

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