Little Boy Blues

by Mary Jane Maffini

  “Take a breath, Camilla.”

  “Right. Since the father didn’t accuse Jimmy, because he was unconscious, and Honey didn’t accuse him, I’d like to know who made the accusations to the police. Was it Will Redmore? And if so, what did he say?”

  “You know I can’t say what he said.”

  “Yeah, yeah. The accusation against a youth. But I’m not going there. Since the accusation seemed to be found to be totally ungrounded, not that anyone ever made that clear to the Fergusons, it seems to me I can inquire about who made it, since it wasn’t one of the two alleged victims.”

  “It seems to me you can’t.”

  “All I want to know is how the brother presented it to you? Was he outraged?”

  “Very tricky. I admire your spirit.”

  “You do not.

  “But it won’t get you anywhere.”

  “I’m just trying to get a fix on how the brother could have made this mistake.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Oh, that reminds me, was Will Redmore ever in trouble for bullying as a kid?”

  The look on his face was all the answer I needed, even though he tried to cover it. He tapped my nose playfully. “What part of the Young Offenders Act did you skip in law school, Camilla?”

  “Thanks, Ray. I owe you big-time.”

  “Well, I can think of ways to repay me.”

  Chuckle, chuckle.

  • • •

  P. J. called after Deveau left. I filled him in on my day touring the shelters, the update on Reefer Keefer, my adventure at D’Arcy McGee’s and my twin theories about Honey protecting someone and Will being a bully. I even complained about the elusiveness of Father Blaise and the presence of Vince Ferguson. I expressed more sympathy for his tummy troubles.

  I may have forgotten to mention Deveau’s visit.

  • • •

  Mrs. Parnell stuck her head out of her door as Gussie and I emerged from the elevator the next morning.

  “No joy,” she said. “Donald Donnie and Loretta came up empty. Not a single rumour about Honey Redmore and a teacher or a coach. My contact made a few calls. Honey was on a few school teams but wasn’t any kind of serious sporting person. No boyfriend who could have triggered the incident. I think we might have hit a brick wall with this line of investigation.”

  “Good news on that front,” I said. “We’ve been looking at the wrong wall.”

  “Nice oblique statement, Ms. MacPhee. Do come in and elucidate.”

  “No time. But I believe the connection could be Honey. This was her first trip back to Sydney since shortly after her father died. Vince told me that Mr. Redmore’s death was triggered by chasing Jimmy Ferguson from the house.”

  “That is horrible, Ms. MacPhee.”

  “Yes, but I suspect the truth is a bit different.”

  “Let us hope so.”

  “Jimmy might still have been upset if he spotted Honey in Sydney, even though she may not have seen him. Plus there’s something fishy about that brother. I’ll be pushing a bit there.”

  “Ah, so Jimmy may have remembered that terrible day he was chased and arrested. Some stimulus triggered his panic, as Jimmy’s disappearance triggered it in young Ferguson. I agree. The stimulus could easily have been catching sight of Honey. Most likely, that is why he is on the run.”

  “Right, up to a point, Mrs. P. For sure, Jimmy could have panicked if he’d seen Honey. Maybe he would have been afraid of the brother coming after him. Maybe he worried about being hauled to the copshop again. And who knows what nasty things he heard after Honey’s father died. If we didn’t have these two other deaths, I’d be happy to put it down to that. The Fergusons could go on the air and tell Jimmy he won’t be punished in any way. But we do have two hit and runs. Cops think it’s the same killer. And if you ask me, Honey doesn’t wish Jimmy any harm, but she’s protecting someone.”

  “Interesting deductions, Ms. MacPhee.”

  “Something’s going on. I could see it in her body language. There’s some secret she doesn’t want to get out. I figure Honey thinks the stakes are pretty damned high.”

  “Ms. MacPhee, are you suggesting some kind of abuse?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened.”

  “Does anyone in the family seem the type?” Mrs. Parnell exhaled speculatively.

  “I know from working at Justice for Victims that there’s no obvious type.”

  “And you believe she’s keeping some secret.”

  “And maybe worse than that. Maybe she’s protecting a murderer. Let’s not forget that the hit and run victim, Greg Hornyk, looked like Jimmy from a distance.”

  “So we are dealing with someone who means business.”

  “You bet. A person who has killed, perhaps to cover up that very secret. My point is, another member of the family might have spotted Jimmy on Canada Day and decided to take revenge for the father’s death. Perhaps it was the brother, still angry after all these years. Maybe the sight of Jimmy triggered his rage.”

  “For one thing, I thought Honey Redmore assured you her family knew Jimmy was innocent. For another, I understand our hit and run driver is a woman,” Mrs. Parnell said.

  “Okay, there are still a few details to work out. But we do know Mrs. Redmore blamed Mrs. Ferguson after the father died. I’d like to talk to Honey and get some more answers.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “Something tells me I won’t be able to reach her for the rest of my life. Of course, I’m not the only bear in these woods.”

  “I don’t know her, so I am at a disadvantage.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of you.”

  “And poor young Ferguson is liable to go off the deep end.”

  “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking about him, either. Stay tuned, Mrs. P.”

  • • •

  “You have to do it, Vince.”

  “She won’t even remember me.”

  I didn’t dignify that with an answer. Vince Ferguson might be a pain in the butt, but he was a dark, brooding handsome pain, and he had played sports. He wouldn’t have been that much older than Honey. The chances were very good that Honey would remember him all right.

  “Sound her out about the brother,” I said.

  “Her brother? Will?”

  “Yeah. What do you know about him?”

  “He was hot stuff around town for a long time, and then he grew up and went away, and now he’s a big deal in Ottawa, last I heard.”

  “Some kind of current affairs guru, I guess. Television,” I said.

  “Figures. But I remember him thinking he was God’s gift and throwing his weight around a bit when he was a teenager.”

  “Right.”

  “He was one of those assholes you hope will get what’s coming to them.”

  “Maybe he did.”

  “Nope. I just told you his career’s in high gear.”

  “And he’s older than Honey?”

  “He must be about thirty.”

  “Was he living in Sydney during this so-called incident with Jimmy and Honey?”

  “No. He would have been gone a long time. He left when he started university. He would have been out working by the time of the alleged assault. Honey was home from Dal for a visit with her parents.”

  “Didn’t you tell me it was Thanksgiving weekend?”

  “Yes. So?”

  “So her brother might very well have been there too.”

  “Maybe. I didn’t encounter him.”

  “But that does make sense.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Honey is protecting someone. What more likely person than her own brother?”

  “But what would she be protecting him from?”

  “What do you think of this for a theory? Brother Bigshot is home and sees Jimmy Ferguson outside his home. Maybe he knows Jimmy has a big crush on Honey. He’s a bully. Maybe he decides a boy with brain damage shouldn’t be hangi
ng around his perfect sister.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “What if he tries to scare Jimmy, and in the course of it, his father comes along and gets the impression Jimmy has done something to Honey.”

  “Sweet Jesus.”

  “Exactly. So the father chases Jimmy in a rage and collapses with a heart attack.”

  “He never regained consciousness.”

  I said, “So he’s dead because of something the brother did.”

  “The mother and the brother call the police, and the police hassle Jimmy and then the father dies. But Honey doesn’t know what happened. And by the time she finds out, it’s too late.”

  “She can’t say anything.”

  “That’s right. She would have been in a horrible position. She knew Jimmy was innocent, but if she explained what happened, she would be implicating her brother in her father’s death.”

  “She’d never be able to tell the mother,” Vince said.

  “You got it.”

  “It would make a big difference for Ma to know for sure Jimmy didn’t do anything to cause Mr. Redmore’s death.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “She never really got over it.”

  “Right. Since you’re here, you should talk to Honey.”

  “As much as I would like to know what happened back then, I think we have Jimmy’s disappearance to deal with first.”

  “It’s all connected somehow.”

  “How?”

  “Honey and her mother and her brother were all in Sydney on Canada Day.”

  Vince’s jaw dropped. “Didn’t you know that? Their first visit since they moved. I can’t believe it’s a coincidence that’s the day Jimmy disappeared.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “We’re going to find out. All you have to do is wait outside her office until she comes out for lunch.”

  • • •

  The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to get a good look at Will Redmore. To see but not necessarily be seen. And I had an idea where and when.

  P. J. was less than thrilled.

  “I need your help again.”

  “I’m always glad to help you, but I’m up to my ears with Nick. The man never sleeps. Breakfast meetings a speciality, but only after he’s done his five-kilometre run.”

  Good grief, now Nicholas Southern was Nick. What next, honey bunch? I let it go. “We all have problems, P. J. But this one’s serious. You got anything on Will Redmore?”

  “Well, I’ve heard some of the Yankee networks have been taking a look at him.”

  “I meant is there any dirt on him?”

  “Is that what you think I do? Go around digging up dirt on people?”

  “Save it for someone who doesn’t know how you earn a living.”

  “I don’t know much about him. He shows up as a dream date at a lot of the Ottawa socialite fundraisers. I think he was involved with the sports scene a while back. Does a bit of hobnobbing with some of the people in half a dozen lobby groups. If he’s mixed up in something unsavoury, I haven’t heard about it.”

  “And you would, wouldn’t you.”

  “Ottawa’s a real small town when it comes to spreading the dirt around after someone digs it up.”

  “Right.”

  “What impact would a scandal have on a career like his?”

  “Hard to say. Sometimes scandal’s good for ratings. What kind of scandal?”

  “I don’t know. Say some kind of youthful indiscretion. A false accusation against a helpless person.”

  P. J. said nothing.

  “You there?” I asked after a while.

  “It sounds like you have something specific in mind.”

  “Put away your pencil. This is pure speculation on my part. I think I told you Honey Redmore and her family were in Sydney the day Jimmy disappeared.”

  “You think there’s a connection?”

  “Something happened a few years back with Jimmy Ferguson and Redmore’s father. Something I think that a rising media star might not want out in the open.”

  “Are you making a specific allegation?”

  “Speculation only, but I want to get a good look at this guy.

  Where’s he interviewing Nickypoo? And when?”

  “Nick has a major fundraising luncheon at the Château at noon. I’m on my way now. The interview’s later. At two. On site.”

  “Will you be there?”

  “I see where you’re going with this. I can get you a ringside seat, but you’ve got to promise not to bring me any grief. The interview show is live on the news channel, and then air again taped late night.”

  “Good. I knew I could count on you.”

  • • •

  “You think the brother engineered the accusations against Jimmy, Ms. MacPhee. How dreadful. Imagine doing such a thing.”

  “I think the full story might be even worse. I want Alvin to get a look at this turkey.”

  Mrs. P. tracked down Alvin for me and handed me the phone.

  “What do you want, Camilla?”

  “I want you to meet me at the Château. You should see this Will Redmore guy.”

  “Honey’s brother? What for?”

  “A major hunch. It could be our big break. Meet me there about ten to two. He’s shooting an interview there. If I’m right, it will be worth the time.”

  “But I don’t even know him.”

  “He’d be quite a bit older than you. He must be about thirty now. You don’t remember him from around town?”

  “Not by name. I’d have to see his face.”

  “That’s the idea. He does a public affairs program called Face Off. Does it ring a bell?”

  “I don’t have a television set. I mean, I didn’t. I guess, now I don’t have anything. You told us a woman was driving the hit and run car?”

  “That’s what Lianne Hornyk said. Other witnesses as well.”

  “You don’t think it was Honey?”

  “No, I don’t. But that’s just based on talking to her. Maybe she fooled me.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “She’s not the type.”

  “We should check out Will Redmore while we have the opportunity. One-fifty, Alvin. Be there.”

  After Alvin hung up, I turned to Mrs. P. “You’d better come along too.”

  She raised her eyebrow. “Why, Ms. MacPhee?”

  “Because I’m putting two and two together. I’ve been pulling together a lot of strands that might be connected, even if we can’t see how yet. I have a hunch there’s something to what Donald Donnie and Loretta said about boys in the park when Jimmy was injured. If Will Redmore did what I think he did to implicate Jimmy, it was so vile, it couldn’t have been the first evil thing he’d done in his life. And it won’t have been the last. He must have had plenty of practice. Vince remembers him as a bully. I want to see if Alvin recognizes him as one of the boys from the park. It’s a crazy long shot but worth taking. And if my hunch is right, it could be rough on Alvin. That’s why I want you with him.”

  “I fear for young Ferguson. Nevertheless, we must not shirk our duty, Ms. MacPhee.”

  Mrs. P. remained grim-faced from the time we left her apartment until we nosed the Buick into the parking lot at the Château Laurier. With her disabled parking pass, we snagged a prime spot near the door.

  • • •

  You could hear the racket from inside the hotel as Mrs. Parnell and I made our way up the long incline at the rear entrance to the hotel from the parking lot. We took our time. Mrs. P. was using her walker, and a lot of people swished past us on their way out of the hotel. People in high-powered suits. You could smell the money as they passed.

  Mr. Nicholas Southern was able to draw a crowd all right. I felt a wave of dislike for this wealthy, selfish creep who, in my humble opinion, practised the politics of meanness. Adding to his sins was the fact he seemed to be winning over the loyalty of P. J. Not that I had much use for any of the existing poli
tical parties, but I couldn’t see our budding relationship surviving the discussions that would ensue.

  The crowd had moved from the large room, where the luncheon had been served, to the hallway. Behind them a small army of hotel serving staff were removing towers of clinking coffee cups and dessert plates from the now empty tables.

  P. J. was waiting by the door of the ballroom. Mrs. Parnell nodded grimly at him.

  P. J. said, “I’ve been making inquiries, and as far as I can tell, Redmore is squeaky clean.”

  “Not what I want to hear.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what this is about? Then maybe I can do a better job of digging. I have to tell you though, except that he’s a bit of a heartbreaker for the women in town, I’m not getting even a whiff of bad stuff about this guy.”

  “This is now, I want then.”

  “Out with it. What do you know that I don’t?” said P. J.

  “I have to know that you’re not going to do anything with it until the time is right.”

  “Do anything with it? I couldn’t do anything with it if my life depended on it. This assignment is chewing up every minute of the day.”

  “Okay. I have a hint from an unnamed source, Redmore was involved in some bullying incidents when he was underage. Possibly Jimmy’s accident was caused by bullies. I have a hunch that’s the link we’re missing.”

  “Oh, great. A hint. A possibility. Stop the press.”

  Mrs. Parnell leaned forward on her walker. “Once a bully, always a bully.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” I said. “I think he falsely accused Jimmy Ferguson of assaulting his sister. Redmore would have been in his early twenties then, but Jimmy was only thirteen. He got hauled to the copshop. Redmore’s father died chasing Jimmy after the brother made the accusation.”

  “Even if that turned out to be true, Tiger, I can’t get a story out of it because of Jimmy’s age at the time.”

  “Think about it this way. Suppose you were an ambitious, ego-driven man on your way up and suppose, for some reason, you thought people would find out about your false accusation against a helpless boy like Jimmy. Would that give you a major motive to run someone down in the street?”

  “Sounds far-fetched to me.”

  “The false accusation happened, P. J. The father died. Jimmy’s missing. Will Redmore’s a ruthless man going to the top. I might be missing some of the details, but I promise you, help me fill in the blanks and you’ll have one hell of a story. It will make your holy roller Southern pale by comparison.”