The Icing on the Corpse

by Mary Jane Maffini

  I left a message for P.J., a reminder message to Dr. Varty, the pathologist at the hospital, followed by a call to Conn McCracken. I tried to get a message to Elaine at the RDC. Finally, I called my sisters to say I'd be out all evening and not to bother phoning.

  Then I flicked on the television, ate a can of mushroom soup and crashed on the sofa until the sun came up.

  There's no life like it.

  Seventeen

  I woke up in a good mood, which doesn't happen often. In honour of the occasion, I made three resolutions. First, not to let the wedding preparations annoy me; second, to keep a cool head about the Elaine situation, and third, to relax a bit until it was time to resume the hunt for the elusive bridesmaid's dress. I shared a pleasant breakfast with Mrs. Parnell's cat and felt quite mellow by the time I had finished my toast and she had polished off her tuna.

  I checked the thermometer on my balcony and was surprised to see the temperature had shot up to plus three. Five minutes later, I realized it was probably as a result of heat generated by the headline in the City section of the Ottawa Citizen. It's always a mistake to read the paper before leaving the house.

  This time P. J. answered his cellphone on the first ring. “Took you long enough, Tiger.”

  “You little creep, what kind of friend are you?”

  “Hey, what's your problem? I'm doing my job. Same as you. Nothing to do with friendship.”

  “What friendship? Your nasty headline today. Ice Queen puts chill on hotheaded defence lawyer. What kind of crap is that?”

  “Hey, I just file the stories, I don't write the headlines, although I did think that one was cool.”

  “Enough with the jokes. You think this is funny for Elaine?”

  “Here's another tip for you. You might not think it's funny, but Elaine will be having the time of her life. You know she hired Berelson. Then she had him call a press conference to announce she'd fired you. And you're wondering what kind of friend I am.”

  “What a shitty sight to start the day.”

  “Of course it was. Don't take it personally; it's what I do, as the scorpion said to the frog. So tell me, froggie, ready to go skating on Sunday? Two little guys will be heartbroken if you don't.”

  Why do I always have to be the bad guy? “I wouldn't disappoint the kids. But you better watch your back.”

  “It's good news,” Alexa said. “Elaine was always difficult. Being fired frees you for better activities, like skating with your friend's nephews.”

  She dabbed a little L'air du temps behind her ears and smiled out the window. Alexa's not the most subtle person in the world. I knew she meant it freed me to be more cooperative about the wedding. And I intended to be. We headed off for Holt's at around ten in a mood of cautious optimism.

  “Well, of course, poor Elaine is an absolute saint. She was horrified by this man, and she knew she had to stop him before he killed anyone else.” Vanessa Gross-Davies might have been Chair of the Board of WAVE and a half-dozen other key groups, but she managed to look like she stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine. That's one of the advantages of marrying the CEO of a leading high-tech company.

  It didn't make it any more of a treat running into her in the handbag section of Holt Renfrew. I can't say she was glad to see me. “Great,” I said. “I sure would want to have you in my corner, Vanessa, if push came to shove.”

  Vanessa curved her lips into an expression that, on someone else, might have been a smile. A layer of frost formed on the tip of my nose. Alexa appeared to be fascinated by a display of Italian leather bags.

  “Well, Camilla, I am in Elaine's corner. I'm there for her whenever she needs me. Which I understand from the news last night and today is more than we can say for you.”

  “Right. As you said, Elaine has snapped. She won't talk to me, but if you're her friend, you must ask her to change her plea.”

  “Jack says Elaine played this one like a pro. The media spin is fabulous. It draws attention to the plight of battered women and the need for the rest of society to fight back.”

  “Tell Jack volunteering to be the defendant at a murder trial is more perilous than floating your first IPO. It's one thing to lose your shirt, it's another to lose your freedom. She needs people to talk sense into her, not encourage her in this ill-advised behaviour.”

  “That may be, but she doesn't need you. WAVE has arranged competent representation for her.”

  I didn't bite. “Don't get me wrong—I'm glad you and Jack and the board at WAVE are there for Elaine. She needs all the support she can get here. What did you think of her terrible situation at the Regional Detention Centre? Did you try to talk to her through the shield? They put in the Plexiglas after one of the visitors broke down the bars with a sledgehammer. Still, it breaks your heart, doesn't it?”

  The eyes hardened. “I haven't been able to visit her yet.”

  I bet you haven't, I thought. Ms. Gross-Davies would never park her cashmere bum next to a bunch of strung-out girlfriends and runny-nosed toddlers screaming for the old man behind the unbreakable window.

  “Ah, well, the pressures of a full schedule, I'm sure.”

  “We are having a fundraiser dinner for Elaine tonight, and that has taken a good deal of my time. And now if you'll excuse me, I am busy.”

  “Great, I'm so relieved. A new handbag is exactly what Elaine needs.”

  “We will do our best for Elaine. She has the finest legal representation, and she'll be out in no time.”

  “You're funding her legal expenses?”

  “We have secured Mr. Sam Berelson as her defence lawyer.”

  I already knew that. I also knew Berelson didn't make the front pages regularly by being second-rate. He didn't come free either.

  “Great. Elaine would never divert funds from WAVE to cover her own legal expenses, so it's wonderful you're paying for Berelson.” I reached over and clasped her hand. “Most generous. I am impressed.”

  She did her best to yank herself free, but I held tight. “Thank you. Thank you,” I said.

  “Someone call security!”

  On the other side of the counter, an elegant saleswoman reached for the phone.

  “Let go of me. And leave me alone. Elaine wants you to stay away from her and her friends too.”

  “Ah, yes,” I gave her one final squeeze, “I bet she does.”

  After that, I did my best to find a dress.

  For some reason, Alexa kept checking over her shoulder the entire time we spent in the store. We both found it hard to concentrate. When we left, still dressless, she didn't even whimper. I suggested, “Tomorrow will be better.”

  No argument.

  When the going gets tough, the tough get sneaky. Daddy would have been proud of me. In late afternoon, I hit police headquarters. “I'm here to see Conn McCracken in Major Crimes.” I told the officer at the second floor desk outside the Criminal Investigation Division. “He's about to become my brother-in-law.”

  The officer yawned. I guess that didn't impress him much. Two minutes later, after a quick call from the desk, McCracken lumbered through the door and looked at me in a sadder but wiser way.

  “Good time of the year to work indoors,” I said as we hiked back down a narrow hall.

  I thought I heard a grunt. After that, I kept my mouth shut until I had plunked on the plastic visitor's chair in front of his desk. I smiled at him over the stacks of files in buff folders. I had to hand it to him, he kept an orderly workspace, which couldn't have been easy in an office that made Justice for Victims look spacious. An orderly desk was sign of a good mind, if you believed my father. I always hoped it wasn't true.

  An 8 x 10 photo of Alexa smiled down at us from on top of the four-drawer filing cabinet. McCracken settled his big body into his chair. “I'm glad you came by, Camilla.”

  “What?” I had to stop sounding like a dope, but every sentence I heard lately sounded more peculiar than the last.

  “There's a switch. Most people se
em to remember pressing business elsewhere as soon as they see my face.”

  “I wonder why.”

  “No idea.”

  “Anyway. I needed to talk to you.”

  “Excellent, because I needed to talk to you too.”

  “Me first.”

  “Hey, go ahead. It's your turf.”

  “Okay.” He leaned forward. “Alexa is a wonderful person.”

  “Yes.”

  “She'd never hurt anyone.”

  “Right.”

  “She cares a lot about you.”

  “Is there a point?”

  “Please try to stop making her crazy. This wedding ceremony is so important to her. It would make a big difference if you would cooperate and not fight with the entire world. Just get the dress and be pleasant. Just ten days, Camilla, then the ceremony's over and you can be your miserable self.”

  I'd never heard McCracken talk so much in the eight months since I'd first met him. Maybe the shock had brought it on.

  “I'm doing my best. In fact, we've already been shopping today.”

  I didn't like the expression on his face. “Don't try shitting me, Camilla. I heard about that experience. Alexa doesn't need that kind of stress every step of the way. The least you could do is cooperate.”

  “Not a problem.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I wish I could believe you.”

  I looked around. “Where's Mombourquette?”

  “Finished for the day. He's headed for a workout.”

  “So, what's new on the Benning investigation? Did you find the van Benning was transported in? Forensic would be able to confirm pretty quickly if it was the one.”

  “Maybe you don't know it, Camilla, but we're short of resources. We can't waste time. Do you think we pursue cases that are solved?”

  “Solved? By solved do you mean arresting a wacky woman with a lot more heart than brains when she pretends to have committed a crime? When you find that van you won't find any trace of Elaine in it. I know it and so do you.”

  “I'll tell you something you should know. Word has come down you're persona non grata and members of the force are to watch out for you.”

  “Persona non grata? Why?”

  “Because you've been a pain in the ass of the brass.”

  “Well, I don't know, Conn, it seems to me I'm the same as always. Except for you and Mombourquette, I'm not in touch with any cops. So whose ass have I pained?”

  “I don't know. But the message has been clear. Whoever felt the pain, really felt it.”

  “So why talk to me?”

  “Why not? I got my thirty years in. I can retire any time, take it easy, and enjoy my new life. If I get suspended or disciplined, it won't matter much. Give me a bit more time for the wedding. But you won't find other officers feel the same way.”

  “Tell me, Conn, this so-called ‘word’ you're prepared to ignore, you don't find it revealing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Benning obviously had a well-placed contact who helped him get off more than once. Do you think he broke out this last time without inside backing? It's not possible. It had to be a connection in the police. When Benning went right over the edge, he became an incredible liability for his inside man. I thought it was some undercover cop but this message points up the ladder to someone with clout. Someone who would need to get Ralph Benning out of the way before word about the relationship leaked out. The rest of you are dancing to his tune. So who's behind the message, Conn?”

  I was almost in the elevator before I caught my breath. I guess you can push Conn McCracken only so far. If I'd been a good little girl I would have kept going and headed out the door and onto Elgin Street.

  Instead, I stayed on the second floor and zipped down the hall towards the police gym. What the hell, it was the last chance I'd get to visit, what with directives and all. I peered through the glass slot in the door, and sure enough, caught sight of Mombourquette.

  I ditched my jacket and boots in the empty office around the corner and headed in. The police gym smelled just like any other. Mombourquette was working with the free weights. Developing his pecs, I figured. And not a moment too soon. From the far end of the gym came the steady thunk of basketballs.

  “Hey, Leonard!” I said.

  “What are you doing here?” Mombourquette didn't break his routine for a second.

  “I need to see you.”

  “We're not supposed to talk to you.”

  “I don't understand that. Maybe you can explain it to me. But first, I wanted to know if you'd heard the latest about Elaine.”

  “I'm serious, Camilla. Get out of here.”

  “Sheesh. What a welcome. I was heading in to see Conn about family matters, and I heard you were here, and I dropped in to say hi.”

  “Hi. Goodbye.”

  “Hey. Sorry to interrupt your workout. But when would be a good time to talk?”

  “Never.” I noticed a couple of officers in the far corner glance over.

  “Never?”

  “We have orders not to give you information. But I bet you already know that.”

  “I don't need information. I'm giving it out.”

  “I'm not going to bite.”

  I refrained from saying “and what a waste of pointy incisors that is.” Although I'd kept my voice down, we'd been noticed. One of his colleagues stepped off the treadmill and stared at us.

  “No problem. I wanted to let you know the Crown plans to throw the book at Elaine.”

  He pushed the weights up with his arms. “Get out of here.”

  “It's true. Mia Reilly told me.”

  “Now.”

  “Fine.” I turned to leave.

  “They won't get a conviction. And even if they do, she won't serve time. She'll get a suspended sentence. At the worst it will be conditional.” He kept his voice low.

  “You wish. Mia Reilly says she can get murder in the first. It's a good career move for her. They'll pull out all the stops and prove Elaine stood to gain personally from his death. Don't count on a light sentence, because it won't happen.”

  “We all know she fired you. You have no authority whatsoever. Hit the road.” Mombourquette's muscles were getting a workout they wouldn't soon forget.

  “She did fire me. Because she wants to be a martyr. And now I hear the cops are not allowed to talk to big, big, bad, bad Camilla MacPhee. Makes you wonder about a cover-up.”

  “Scram, Camilla.”

  I couldn't believe it. “Listen, Leonard, I thought you cared about Elaine, and if you do, you'd better be prepared to talk to me, because she needs all the friends she can get.”

  “You'll need all the friends you can get if you're not out of here in thirty seconds. You want to get charged, keep talking.”

  “Problem, Lennie?”

  The basketballs had stopped thunking. A tall female officer with spiky ash blond hair unbent from a rowing machine and loped over.

  “The problem's on her way out.” Mombourquette hadn't stopped hoisting those weights. Maybe that's why he turned such a funny colour.

  “Think about that, serious time.” I hate to let someone else have the last word.

  A trickle of sweat worked its way down Mombourquette's neck. “You think about this. If you don't want to find yourself in deep shit, don't make any stops on your way out. That includes badgering McCracken.”

  I turned and pushed open the door. “Good-bye, Lennie.

  Nice to see you sweat.”

  The female officer followed me out of the room. She leaned against the wall, crossed her arms and waited while I retrieved my parka and tied up the neon yellow laces of my Sorels. She smelled a bit of linament. No surprise. She didn't look like the type to wear perfume. She followed me down the hall and into the elevator, and she didn't say a word. Must have read that memo.

  I kept my mouth shut on the ride down and didn't look back until I hit the front doors. When I did glance over my shoulder, I saw her de
ep in conversation with the Commissionaire at the info desk. They were both pointing at me.

  Eighteen

  Back in Justice for Victims, Alvin had vanished for the day. A stack of pink messages remained, all but one from my sisters. The remaining one said my car would be unavailable for an extra ten days.

  I couldn't keep riding around in Mrs. Parnell's LTD for another ten days. Not the way the defrost worked on it. I made a call and managed to snag a rental car. Then I spent a couple of hours catching up on some grant proposals to keep the wolf from the door. It was boring enough to keep my mind off things for a while. But only for a while. Then it was time to get back to the matter most on my mind.

  I tried to call Mrs. Parnell for an update, but she didn't answer her phone. Neither did Merv. Neither did Lindsay. I couldn't call Elaine. The Crown Attorney's office would be closed for the day. Ditto the WAVE office, not that I could expect help there. I couldn't talk to the police. I couldn't talk to my best friend, Robin, because she was out of reach in the Yucatan. I didn't want to talk to my sisters. If I didn't get the frustration out of my system, I'd have to scream.

  If you can't beat them, join them.

  Okay, it's not my motto. My motto is more like, if you can't beat them, run over them with a truck. But I was in enough trouble already. A skate on the canal seemed like the right antidote to my poisonous mood. I figured it would help me to think clearly while I waited for Alvin and Mrs. P. to report back. Plus I needed the practice before I hit the ice with P. J.'s nephews.

  I had a pair of skates in the bottom drawer of the second filing cabinet, along with a pair of emergency running shoes.

  Sure enough, they were nestled between the single leather glove and the Tupperware containers.

  Ten minutes later, I plunked on a bench by the edge of the canal, slipped into the skates and tightened the Velcro fasteners. I tucked my boots into my backpack and headed out to join the Winterlude crowds. Since the temperature held at a balmy zero Celsius, everyone in Ottawa seemed to be out. It felt like a heat wave to me. I stuffed my red hat in my pocket and let myself enjoy the breeze for the first time in two months. The sky was clear and starry already. The three-quarter moon offered natural light in addition to the lamp standards along the canal.