The Icing on the Corpse. Mary Jane Maffini
in and see Lindsay first,” she said as I climbed into her SUV.
“She's out cold. Give her an hour or so.”
“Holy moly,” she said, “out cold. I don't blame her.”
“Drugs,” I said.
“What else is she going to do? Was she awake when you arrived?”
“Yes. Which reminds me, did she call you this morning and tell you about Benning?”
“No. The first I heard of it was Alvin's message. Who could believe that bastard's loose again?”
I must have had a look on my face.
“Come on, Camilla, don't start feeling guilty.”
“I don't know. If I'd done a better job on the brief to the Parole Board last spring, he wouldn't have been paroled and attacked his wife, and we wouldn't have this whole situation.”
“Get over it. Remember? You were caught up in a murder investigation. Benning's nothing but trouble and always has been. It's not you. It's not her. It's not the wife. It's him. Plain and simple.”
I gasped, less from self-insight than from the SUV spinning toward the canal as we made an illegal U-turn and didn't quite connect with the road.
“Don't be so jumpy,” Elaine said. “This guy's making you nuts.”
“Of course he is.” The little pine-tree deodorizers danced with each swerve Elaine made.
“But Merv will be a match for him.”
“I guess so.”
“I know so. Who'd argue with him? Didn't you tell me once he had special training when he was doing security stuff?”
“But he's nearly fifty years old, with a wonky gall bladder that acts up when he's under stress.”
“So what? Wasn't he a bodyguard for the Prime Minister?”
“That was then. This is now.”
“You don't lose that kind of training. Lindsay's in safe hands with Merv. Anyway, the police will pick Benning up any minute. Okay, we need to rescue Alvin.” She gunned the engine as we skidded along.
“Let me use your phone. I want to leave another message for P. J. just in case…”
“No problem.”
“Thanks, Elaine.”
“What's to thank? After all, you've helped me plenty.”
I gasped again as the SUV veered intimately close to the side of the road. “I have? Like what?”
“Like working on our sculpture.”
“What sculpture?”
Elaine applied the brakes, sending us into a one hundred and eighty-degree spin. I shrieked. I believe the driver in the oncoming lane did too.
I was still jumpy a minute later.
“Don't carry on so much,” Elaine said. “You shouldn't say ‘what sculpture’ if you don't want a reaction.”
This definitely wasn't the right time to tell Elaine I had no idea what sculpture. “You're right,” I said. “It's too important.”
“It is.”
“So, do you have a plan?” This was a safe bet because Elaine always had a plan.
“Natch,” she said.
“Of course. Watch out for the salt truck!” Merging onto the Queensway with Elaine is not something I ever want to repeat. Thank God, we were just one exit away from the Vanier parkway.
“You're not the easiest person to drive with, Camilla. You know that? It's your tendency toward theatricality.”
“No doubt you're right.” I pulled myself up from where I'd slid under my seat belt. “And so the plan for the sculpture hasn't changed?”
“No. Why should it?”
Why I was so worried? After all, how much of a problem could a sculpture be? A bit of art. A spin to Montreal to some retrospective at the musée? No big deal. Especially if I drove. Alvin's collision with the wrought-iron gates of Rideau Hall meant my car was out of commission, but I could rent. Problem solved. I felt flooded with relief, in part because we were already off the Queensway.
“Camilla? Are you listening? Why should it?”
“No reason. Just asking. Elaine. Red light. Red light! Oh, well.”
“Hey, you don't like it when I slam on the brakes, so you'll have to control yourself if we're in an advanced yellow light stage when we reach an intersection. Okay?”
If we hadn't immediately accelerated to seventy, I would have removed myself from the SUV at this point and finished the conversation by phone.
“Okay?” Elaine is not one to give up.
“I'll try to control myself if you try to stop for red lights.”
“You never let go, do you? So anyway, for the sculpture, tonight's the night.”
“Great.”
“I hope it warms up a bit,” she said.
“Well, what difference does it make?”
She gave me a bit of a strange look.
“Please keep your eyes on the road.” I watched as a pedestrian dove into a snowbank.
“We'll meet in Confederation Square.”
“What?”
“We'll meet in Confederation Square at seven, I guess.”
“Call me crazy, but given the winterness of it all, why don't we meet inside?”
“Why would we meet inside?”
“Because it will be cold outside?”
“And where will we build the sculpture?”
Almost blew my cover. “Oh, right.”
“Exactly.”
“Hmmm.”
“Confederation Square, seven o'clock. Bring your own bucket.”
I hardly noticed the rapid approach of the bus.
“Relax, we owe her big-time. She drove me here to pick you up and waited patiently for the cops to finish with you, hours might I add. Plus she made a few effective phone calls on your behalf, or you might have been spending the night. Aren't you happy to get out of here?” I said as I accompanied Alvin through the foyer of the Leomont Building under the watchful eye of security.
“What? Are you deranged? It doesn't matter whether I'm happy, I won't do it.” Alvin's ponytail flipped in protest.
“Alvin, let's settle this here. I don't want to argue in front of Elaine, who is doing you a favour. I thought you liked her.”
“I do like her, but this has been a crappy day for me, and I'm not going to spend the night in the park.”
“No buts, Alvin.”
“Plenty of buts. I have been grilled by the Gestapo. My name will be on file forever. If I drop a candy wrapper on the street, I'll probably serve hard time. Of course, my name was already on file with the Ottawa police. Let's see. Why would that be? Oh yes, that was a result of another one of your great ideas, Camilla. So, I think I've done enough for you and Justice for Victims today. And if Lindsay's safe, I want to relax. I don't need to work overtime.”
“You do now.”
“It's bad enough I'm still out in public