Читать книгу Camilla MacPhee Mysteries 6-Book Bundle - Mary Jane Maffini - Страница 12

I spent the evening examining the many complex lists compiled by Alvin, trying to find a few other leads. By midnight, I gave up. Jo Quinlan and Deb Goodhouse were still on my own, and they’d been joined by Brooke Findlay.

Brooke, according to Alvin’s mysterious sources, had been lined up in Mitzi’s sights, scheduled for a special treatment in the coming months.

“Why?” I’d asked.

He’d shrugged. “Unclear about that. Lot of shifty looks and sly remarks.”

“Like what?”

“Like ‘Ask Rudy, if you have the guts.’”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Is this guy supposed to scare me?”

“I don’t know. He scares everyone else.”

“Give me a break. Do I have to drag every little bit of information out of you?”

“Okay, okay. He’s supposed to be like some kind of major supplier, you know.”

“You sure?”

Rays from the only light in the room glinted off Alvin’s black cat’s eye glasses. Coupled with the pointer in his hand, he looked like a deranged fairy godmother.

“Don’t be dense. That’s the word on the street. Big time. And too hot to handle. Nobody tangles with Rudy Wendtz.”

“Hmmm.”

* * *

All night I dreamed about killing Brooke Findlay in a variety of satisfying ways. In my dreams, justice prevailed and I found myself serving a ten-year sentence of Family Dinners. I jerked awake at eight o’clock when the phone rang.

“Dinner tonight,” Edwina said. “My place. Don’t try to weasel out of it.”

My God, it was starting.

“I won’t resist, Edwina. Will it be a long one?”

Silence drifted back to me over the phone.

“What time,” I asked, assuming she was still on the line, “and are you sending a guard for me?”

“Very funny. Stan will pick you up at six thirty.”

“All right.”

“And, Camilla.”

“Yes?”

“Do not, and I mean this, do not provoke Alexa.”

“Moi?” I asked.

But she’d already hung up.

* * *

It was after nine when I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair. I decided not to wait until I got to the office to make my first call.

“Oh sure,” said Merv. “I’ll just drop everything and find out about this guy for you. I was just sitting here waiting for your call anyway.”

“Very funny, Merv. But I’ll understand if you abandon Robin to her fate. Pressures of work. Nothing to be done about it.”

Merv made some sort of animal noise before he hung up.

It sounded promising to me.

I was wearing my pumps and my best court suit. I took my camera, just in case I needed it, and my Nikes, just in case I had a chance to walk somewhere.

One last call before leaving.

“She’s asleep,” Mr. Findlay whispered.

“How’s she doing?”

“A bit better. She had a visit from a very nice young man yesterday. Seemed to cheer her up. Maybe you could call a bit later in the mornings. Brooke needs to rest until eleven.”

I let the Brooke remark slide. At least Ted had done his Boy Scout bit and visited Robin.

As I stepped into the hallway, it occurred to me a photo of the cats might cheer Robin. I opened the door, said the magic words “Meow Mix”, and snapped the six of them as they whipped into sight.

“So long, guys,” I said, closing the door and almost tripping over Mrs. Parnell’s walker.

She opened her pursed-up mouth to say something.

“Smile for the birdie,” I squawked, as I clicked the shutter.

Darned if she didn’t blush.

I left for work with a good plan for the day. Beaver through the Benning file then move on to see Rudy Wendtz, as soon as he might be awake. I decided on eleven as the trend.

When I pulled into Rudy Wendtz’s driveway, I had to admit to myself that not one word of the Benning brief had made it past my eyes and into my brain, where it could have done some good. Tomorrow, I promised myself.

It was the perfect spring morning, bright yellow sun, bright blue sky, bright tulips in many colours. The temperature was a bright twenty degrees and climbing. The teal wool suit, although bright, was beginning to feel hot and scratchy, and it crossed my mind that I should get some new warm-weather clothes. But first things first.

Rudy Wendtz was polishing off breakfast in his conservatory which overlooked the canal. Very pleasant. His cotton terry robe had set him back a couple of hundred bucks. His bare feet were resting on a leather ottoman as he lounged in a leather chair, enjoying his breakfast cigarette.

Wendtz was large. Under the terrycloth robe lay long, powerful muscles. The presence of exercise machines and weights in the room may have contributed to the impression. There were no plants in this conservatory, but then you can’t have everything.

He didn’t get up when I was shown in by the large, lumpy individual who answered the door. Just studied me from behind semi-closed lids, while he blew out smoke. From the look on his face, I would rate about a 2 on a good day.

I didn’t care. Rudy didn’t rate too high with me, either.

I could see why Mitzi had kept him, though. He had a certain something, in that he was well over six feet and he radiated power. He looked as though he hadn’t shaved for several days, and he had a serious case of bedhead. His eyes were the eyes of a snake, and perhaps that’s why he looked dangerous.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Good morning,” I trilled. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing okay,” he said.

I didn’t doubt it. The three-story brick house, with its location on the Queen Elizabeth Driveway and its view of the sparkling canal, its long, green lawn, its conservatory and its God knows what else, must have set him back a few bucks. The black Mercedes in the driveway was a good indicator, too.

“Terrific,” I chirped. “I wonder if you can help me?”

“Maybe.”

“Great. You see my friend, Robin Findlay, was unfortunate enough to find the body of Mitzi Brochu, who I understand was a friend of yours. The police are being quite difficult about this, and I thought that I would chat with people involved and try to find out something that could help a bit.”

I beamed at him.

The large, lumpy individual poured out a mug of coffee for Wendtz. They both looked at me.

“Oh lovely,” I said. “I take mine with just a bit of cream.”

Glances heavy with meaning were exchanged before Large-and-Lumpy lumbered off. He returned with a black mug for me, filled it and added some cream. He looked like he was measuring my neck for a garotte.

“Mmm,” I said, taking a sip. “I hear you were great friends.”

“Who do you hear that from?”

“Oh, here and there, everyone seems to know.”

“Do they?”

“Mmmm. Yes, they do. Wonderful coffee.”

“My special blend,” said Large-and-Lumpy, with a shy pride.

“Just great,” I said.

“And a bit of French roast.”

“Good enough to market,” I said, thinking I had made a friend.

“I don’t think I can do much for you, Miss Um…?

“Oh, I’m sure you can, Mr. Wendtz.”

He turned the full force of his snake eyes on me. I sipped a bit more coffee and smiled.

“You see, I think that whatever Mitzi was working on might be the key to her murder. I know she was a very good friend of yours, but she seemed to alienate a good many people with her work.”

Wendtz lit another cigarette, and Large-and-Lumpy looked at me with understanding. I felt certain that Mitzi had alienated him, all right.

“I don’t know what she was working on.”

“You don’t?” I said, gazing with disappointment into my empty mug.

“No.”

“That’s too bad.”

Large-and-Lumpy moved around my chair and refilled my mug. I beamed at him like a soul mate.

“We didn’t mix business and pleasure,” Wendtz said, shooting a bit of smoke in my direction.

“A shame.”

He shrugged. This was a man born to shrug.

“There are some local people who were singled out by Mitzi for persistent treatment. I wondered if you might know whether they were targets for coming articles. It’s possible that one of them might have snapped. You see, I’m sure my friend couldn’t have done it. She’s too gentle and soft. She spends her time in the soup kitchens and feeding stray cats and rescuing other people.”

“Sorry, I can’t help you,” Wendtz said. His sneer might have been intended as a smile, but he lacked the practice.

“What about Deb Goodhouse?”

“What about her?”

“Mitzi slammed her often enough. Was she in the works?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jo Quinlan then. She was a favourite target.”

Was that a flicker that passed between Wendtz and my new friend?

Wendtz looked at his watch, which was large and Swiss and cost more than my car. He looked back at me. I smiled.

A pregnant cloud of silence hung in the air.

I think Wendtz was getting ready to splatter me all over the wall when I stood up.

“Sorry, gentlemen,” I said, “you are excellent company and I am tempted to spend the morning here with you in idle chatter, but I have important work to do, and I cannot allow you to entice me away from it.”

Large-and-Lumpy nodded. Wendtz looked at both of us in disbelief.

At the door I turned. “Oh, and Brooke Findlay, was there any connection between her and Mitzi?”

Bingo. Large-and-Lumpy gawked at me, more in sorrow than anger. Just as well, because enough rage flashed across Wendtz’s face for both of them. Most people get hot when they’re angry. Wendtz radiated coldness. I felt my body temperature drop, even in the thrill of finding a connection between Rudy Wendtz and Brooke Findlay.

Now we’re cooking, I thought, as I reached for the door to let myself out.

Large-and-Lumpy beat me to it.

“You shouldn’t of said that,” he whispered as I left.

* * *

I wasn’t one block away from the house when a car pulled up beside me. A portable flashing light was perched on its roof. McCracken was inside.

I pulled over, surprised at how my heart was thumping. Large-and-Lumpy, for all our instant rapport, had made me very, very edgy. To say nothing of his keeper.

McCracken’s laid-back good humour was eclipsed by a somber stiffness. It didn’t look right on him. Big men like that should be good-natured and outgoing.

“What the hell are you doing at Wendtz’s place?” he asked, leaning over my window.

“What you should be doing, McCracken. Investigating.”

“You’d better leave that to us.”

“Glad to, if you’d do your job and arrest a certain well-known member of the underworld who we both know probably offed the victim with a smile on his face. Instead of badgering gentle cat lovers to their grave.”

“He didn’t do it.”

“Of course, he did it. And we both know it. And I’m going to prove it while you sit on your duff.”

McCracken’s eyes bulged. “Interfere with this case any more…”

“What any more?”

“…and I’ll arrest you, for all kinds of interesting things.”

“I’d enjoy that, McCracken. We’d both make a splash in the media.”

McCracken stood up. “Hang around Wendtz and you’ll make the papers all right. Some sad little missing persons announcement. Use your brains on this one, for God’s sake.”

He started back to his car. I knew he hated to ask me about Alexa, and I wondered how long he could hold out.

Not long. He turned and walked back.

“You know, you may have stirred something up here. Who knows what you’re going to have to deal with as a result. These guys are pretty dangerous. Here’s my home number in case you ever have to get in touch with me. It’s unlisted. Any time you need help or advice.” It must have hurt him to say that, his jaw was so tense. “And if you want to pass it on to your sister, that’s okay too.”

* * *

I parked in the open air lot on O’Connor and walked a couple of blocks to the joke shop. Not as fancy as wherever Stan gets his stuff, but it took my mind off the Benning brief for a little longer, and gave me a chance to chuckle my way out of the chill created by Rudy Wendtz.

The office phone was ringing when I returned with my purchases. Someone persistent enough to keep trying while I fiddled with the key and let myself in.

“Where the hell do you go in that little office that it takes you seventeen rings to answer the phone? Just tell me that.”

“Temper, temper, Merv. You don’t want to have a stroke.”

“Right. If my doctor knew about you, he’d put you on a list with cheap whisky and cigarettes and french fries.

Health hazard.”

“My secret ambition, Merv.”

“I’ll bet it is, too. Listen, I didn’t call you just to chew the fat. There’s a point.”

“Get to it then, Merv.”

I could hear him exhale.

“This guy Wendtz. He is major bad news. Remain as far away as you can from him. Do not meddle. He is connected.

He is into some very bad stuff. Capish?”

“Point taken. Of course, you’re a bit too late.”

“Christ, Camilla. You got a death wish or something? Half the police forces in this country, including our own, have an eye on this guy, and there’s you sticking your little pointed nose in.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Merv. My nose is not pointed. And if so many police forces, including our own, have so much interest, how come they don’t nail him for Mitzi’s murder, which he committed? Tell me that.”

“They’d sell their souls to nail him for Mitzi’s murder, they just happen to know he didn’t do it.”

“Yeah, right, and how do they know that? Were they with him at the time?”

“Jeez, that’s just it. They were. The guy was under surveillance the whole night. He’s been the subject of a major drug investigation. He wasn’t out of their sight for two minutes. Some alibi, eh? Half the members in this town can swear he didn’t do it.”

It was my turn to be quiet, and when I spoke again it was through clenched teeth.

“I don’t care what your mounties saw or think they saw, Merv, this guy’s involved in this killing. Maybe he didn’t do it himself, but I bet he made it happen. The local boys never even followed up properly on that blow-up he had with Mitzi the night before she was killed. I saw his face today when I mentioned Brooke Findlay. There’s a connection. And according to my sources, Mitzi was about to do a real number on Brooke. That’s why Robin’s reacting the way she is.”

“What did Robin ever do to end up in a family like that?”

“Unlucky, I guess.”

“Can’t you talk some sense into her?”

“I’ll try, now that I have a bit of ammunition.”

But I had two calls to make first.

Lunch at the Harmony was an experience to soothe your soul. The music soothed. Chopin’s Nocturnes. The wine soothed. California chardonnay. The food soothed. Shrimp and scallops, with basmati rice and four perfect bitsy witsy vegetables. Richard Sandes didn’t soothe, although he might have wanted to. Just the opposite. I could feel my heart going boom-bitty-boom underneath my teal suit.

“You look different today. What’s up?” he asked.

I smiled at him and kept my dirty thoughts to myself.

“Just excitement, I guess.”

“Excitement?”

I looked into Richard’s brown eyes. This was a man you could bare your soul to. I explained about Wendtz and Large-and-Lumpy and about McCracken and what Merv had said, leaving out the bitchy things that I, myself, had said. But he didn’t react the way I wanted.

“For God’s sake. Why do you want to take these chances?”

I looked at him in surprise. “Because I want to end Robin’s involvement once and for all by finding out what really happened.”

He sighed. “And if it turns out that her sister, as miserable as you say she is, is involved, do you think your friend will thank you?”

I shot him a black look, because, of course, he had identified my greatest fear.

He laughed.

“What are you laughing at?” I snapped. “You’re not supposed to laugh when someone looks at you like that.”

I expected him to stop at that, but he didn’t. After a minute of shaking, he picked up the soft apricot napkin and wiped his eyes with it.

“Hehehehehe!” he said.

“Oh shut up, you remind me of a set of teeth I once knew.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, giving his eyes one last wipe, “I know I shouldn’t have laughed like that. If anyone knows this horrible case is serious, it should be me. I’m still dealing with the brass over it. God knows if I’ll even keep my job from one day to the other. So I’d like the whole thing cleared up just as much as you would.”

“Oh, good,” I said, “so why are you laughing then, if it’s so goddam serious, as far as you’re concerned?”

“It’s just the thought of you, in your little teal suit, with the bit of cat hair on the sleeve,” he reached over and plucked it off as he was speaking, “it’s just the thought of you backing these guys into a corner. I mean, I’ve seen Wendtz, the guy’s huge, and these other guys, Large and Lumpy and McCracken…” He started to laugh again.

“Large-and-Lumpy,” I said, with a great deal of dignity, “is only one person.”

But I had lost him again.

I sat there with my lips pursed until he was finished.

“Sorry, sorry,” he wheezed a bit later. “I can’t help it. Maybe it’s the tiny little pumps. I just see you standing there waving your fist and barking at these guys, and they’re huddling…”

“Size six,” I said, “not tiny little pumps. And none of these guys were huddling. Richard, I thought you were on my side.”

“I am. Oh, I am. And once I get past the funny side, I have to make the point that you should leave it to the police. They know what they’re doing.”

“They do not know what they’re doing, or they wouldn’t be so interested in Robin as a suspect. They would not be denying that Wendtz was involved, and they would not be sitting on their butts.”

“Whoa,” he said. “I agree they’re off base about Robin. You only have to see her once to know that. She reminded me a bit of my wife, totally incapable of hurting any living thing. I bet she opens the door to escort spiders from the premises.”

I had seen Robin do that. But what was this wife thing?

I stared across the table at Richard, his Belgian chocolate eyes, still a bit damp, his lean brown hands that I usually couldn’t stop watching, his bony good looks and gentle manner. I felt a sharp pain behind my rib cage. It was time to face the music.

“Your wife?”

“Mmm,” he said.

“I have to know about your wife. I have to know, are you still married? As we speak.”

Richard stared into the crumpled peach napkin in his hand as if the answer were printed there. It took a while for the words to come.

“Yes,” he said, “we are.”

I felt my head swimming. The small, smothered rational part of my being tried to tell me it didn’t matter. I wasn’t over Paul yet. I’d only known Richard a short time, he was too old, the circumstances under which I’d met him had been too gruesome, I’d known all along he had a family. But none of it helped.

I clutched the tablecloth and held on. I kept telling myself it didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry, God, I keep saying I’m sorry today. I should have told you our story right from the start. But I thought you were just passing through. And I still find it painful to talk about. Still, that’s no excuse for not being straight with you.”

I waited, my fingers white.

“I am still married. My wife is in a psychiatric institution suffering from profound depression. Her state is catatonic. No one knows if she will come out of it. But if she does, we will be together again, so I guess I should be upfront about that. I love her and I miss her.”

I nodded, hoping my mouth didn’t twist too much.

“The doctors don’t hold out too much hope. But I hope anyway. Her facility is a good one, and it’s a little bit closer to Ottawa than to Toronto, which was why I asked for this transfer. It’s also why I’m usually out of town on my days off.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your wife. Has she been sick long?”

“A year and a half. She never got over our daughter’s death. She just couldn’t admit it happened.”

You could feel the pain emanating from him. The lines in his face that I’d found so sexy, I now realized were mementos of anguish. I hated to ask him anything else. And yet, I knew that this moment of candour wouldn’t come again with Richard.

“Your daughter…”

“She was so beautiful, just like her mother, but she had some medical problems that affected her heart, and one day it just gave out. Twenty-four years old and everything ahead of her. Beautiful. Masters degree from University of Toronto. Engaged. A wedding planned. And one day, it just stopped.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Look, I should have told you this right away, but I had no idea that there would be anything between us.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I heard myself say, “it’s not like we made some kind of commitment or anything. A couple of meals together doesn’t make a relationship.”

“I hope we can still have lunch from time to time.”

“Of course,” I said, reaching out to pat his hand, a most un-Camilla-like gesture. “I knew you had a family, Richard, right from the start, from the photo in your office.” I didn’t bother to mention that I had hoped they’d been sliced from his life by divorce. A part of the past. “We can have lunch anytime you want. Nothing’s changed.”

But something had changed.

“Good,” he said.

“Look, before I get back to work, which is piling up, I just want to know if I can talk to the maid who was in the hallway the day of Mitzi’s death.”

He started to say something negative, I could tell.

“Maybe she heard something or saw something. Oh sure, I know the police probably questioned her, but I’d like to try again.”

Richard’s grin returned.

“Well, good luck. I hope you do better than the police. That particular employee is a very recent refugee from El Salvador. She speaks very little English, just enough to follow her instructions for work, and even there I think the housekeeper has to use a little show and tell.”

“I’m one hell of a mime.”

“I bet you are. Well, I’ll get you her name and work schedule, and you can give it a shot.”

We said good-bye in the aqua foyer, and I stepped outside and waved. Richard stood and watched me go. It wasn’t until I was out of his sight that I let myself slump a bit.

Sure, Richard would continue to be a friend. Kind of a Merv with manners. But the easy comfort with the sexy underpinnings had been destroyed. And let’s face it, I told myself, friendship was not what drew me to Richard in the first place. Anyway, if I wanted companionship, I had the damn cats.