The Further Investigations of Joanne Kilbourn (13 page)

I watched as he went to the bar and poured himself a drink. He downed it in a single gulp, poured another one, and started towards me. I was furious. I looked around for someone to talk to. Howard Dowhanuik was alone by the window. He was wearing the red plaid vest he had worn to every holiday function since I’d known him. Howard always made a point of drawing our attention to what he called the Dowhanuik tartan, but the vest had always done a pretty good job of calling attention to itself. In that evening of strange currents and jagged edges, it had been a reassuring sight.

I don’t remember what Howard and I talked about, but I do remember that Ian joined us, and that, at some point, Lorraine came over and reminded Howard that the Caucus Office had to send someone to speak at Charlie Heinbecker’s funeral the next day. Mellowed by good scotch, Howard had been avuncular as he gathered all our members together. I
don’t remember who came up with the idea of the coin toss to decide who would drive to Swift Current. Like most ideas that people come up with when they’re drinking, it seemed inspired. Two people would toss, and the loser would meet a new opponent and toss again, until the outcome had been decided. When Ian lost, he had raised his glass to me. “At least I’m lucky in love,” he’d said, and his voice had been heavy with irony.

I hadn’t answered him. Lorraine Bellegarde had come over and told me there was a phone call. It was Mieka. Angus had thrown up again and was asking for me. I told Mieka I’d be right home. When I’d looked for Ian to tell him I was leaving, he was gone.

Three times during the evening I called the caucus office. Ian wasn’t there. It must have been after 2:00 when I heard the front door, and a half-hour later than that when Ian finally came upstairs. I watched as he undressed in the moonlight, his long pale body as familiar to me as my own.

“Where were you?” I said.

His voice was infinitely tired. “Where you left me. At the party. Now I’m here, and I want to go to bed.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” I said. “Ian, you weren’t at the party. I called. Nobody could find you.”

“I stepped out for a while. Satisfied?”

“No,” I said, “I’m not. Ian, we’ve never lied to each other. Where were you tonight?”

“Jo, if you’d stop badgering me, I wouldn’t have to lie to you. This is my business, not yours. Now, for the last time, leave it alone.”

“Go to hell,” I said, and I turned my back to him. We slept fitfully, angry and apart. The next morning he showered and left. Seven hours later he was dead, and the marriage which had been the best thing that ever happened to me was over.

That was how the party had looked from my perspective, but there’d been other people there, and they would have other stories. I looked at my watch. It was too late to call anybody. All I could do was sit and watch the back yard fill up with snow until I was tired enough to sleep.

The next morning, as soon as I got in from taking the dogs for their run, I called Howard at his apartment in Toronto. He was happy to hear from me, but less happy when he heard what I was calling about.

“Jesus, Jo, I thought we agreed you’d stay out of this.”

“No, Howard, you agreed. Look, the universe is not exactly unfolding as it should around here.”

When I’d finished telling him about the way the arrows were pointing in the Maureen Gault case, Howard’s voice was sombre.

“What can I do?”

“Tell me what you remember about the party the night before Ian died.”

“You mean the one at the caucus office? Christ, Jo, that was six years ago.”

“It’s important, Howard. At least, I think it might be. The problem is I don’t remember much about it at all. Angus was sick, and I went home early. I don’t even know for sure who was there.”

Howard’s voice was thoughtful. “We were all there, weren’t we? I remember Andy was. His mother was down for the holidays, and he brought her. Old Roma Boychuk, there was a political asset for you. She kept sniffing at the food. Finally she went up to Lorraine Bellegarde and said, ‘How much you pay for all those little sausages and the crackers with the raw meat?’ When Lorraine told her, Roma hit the roof. She spent the rest of the evening going around telling everybody how they’d been ripped off. ‘Next time, get
me. For that money I make you a five-course meal, and the meat will be cooked!’ ” He laughed again. “Lorraine was really steamed.

“Anyway, Roma and Andy were at the party, and Craig was there with Julie. He sure did better the second time around, didn’t he? That Julie was something else … That night was the only time I ever remember seeing Craig stand up to her.”

“What happened?”

“Julie came over to me with some hot piece of news, and Craig told her to put a lid on it.”

“What was the news?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t imagine it was much. Julie always had a mean little story or a nasty rumour. Remember how she used to say, ‘There’s something I feel I have to share with you …’? It was always dirt.

“Let’s see, if Marty and I were still together, she would have been there, but I don’t remember if we were still together.”

“That’s probably why you’re not together now,” I said.

“You’re probably right,” he agreed.

“Jane O’Keefe was there with that fat lawyer from Saskatoon. You know, the one who dyes his hair.”

“Billy Clifford?” I said. “I never knew they were an item.”

“They weren’t. Billy would have taken a bullet for Jane, but she was just using him as a blind.”

“For what?” I said.

“For an affair she was having with another guy,” he said. “Jo, let’s get on to something else here. With all my nasty evasions and innuendos I’m beginning to sound like Julie Evanson.”

“Howard, if that other man is somebody I know, it may be important. Was he?”

There was silence. When Howard spoke, his voice was sad. “I guess it doesn’t matter any more. It’s been over for years. The other guy was Gary Stephens.”

“Oh, Howard, no.”

“It wasn’t just a fling. At least not on Jane’s side. She was really in love with him. In fact, she kind of fell apart that night at the party. I don’t know whether they’d had a fight or what, but Gary disappeared part way through the evening, and Jane went after him.”

“Howard, I just can’t believe this. Was Sylvie there?”

He laughed. “Jo, as you just discovered, I can’t even remember if my own wife was at the party, but I don’t think Sylvie was there.”

“No,” I said. “When I really think about it, Sylvie wouldn’t have been there. She never had much interest in Gary’s political life.”

“She never had much interest in Gary,” Howard said. “At least she hadn’t for a while.”

“I just can’t believe that Jane would have an affair with Gary. She and Sylvie have always seemed so close.”

“They’re still close,” Howard said. “Gary’s the one who seems to have been frozen out.”

“Howard, do you think Sylvie knew?”

“If she didn’t, she was the only one. We all knew.”

“I didn’t,” I said.

Howard sighed. “Well, now you do. Look, Jo, can I call you back? I’m supposed to be taking Marty to brunch. She divorced me once for never being there; I’m trying to get back into her good graces.”

“Marty’s good graces are worth getting back into,” I said. “But, Howard, can I just have one more minute? Please? Did Tess Malone come that night?”

Howard’s voice was testy. “I don’t know, Jo.” Then he added more kindly. “Tess always went to everything, didn’t
she? Look, I’m sorry if I’m sounding pissed off, but I’ve told you everything I remember.”

“You left out Ian,” I said. “How long was he there?”

“Off and on all evening, I think. Jo, it’s been six years. People weren’t punching in and punching out. I don’t remember how long Ian was there.”

“Try, Howard, please.”

He sighed. “Well, I know he was off with that old guy at the beginning.”

“What old guy?”

“I don’t know who he was. Ian and I came into the building together that night. When we got to the caucus office, there was an old man waiting on the doorstep. I heard him tell Ian his name. Can’t remember what it was, but it was one of the good names.”

“Ukrainian?” I said.

He laughed. “Right, a good Ukrainian name like Dowhanuik. Anyway, the old man was very agitated. Ian tried to calm him down. I remember he put his arm around the old man’s shoulder and walked him down to the end of the hall.”

“And?”

“And nothing. I went inside and took care of a few things before the party. I never thought anything more about it. I still don’t. Jo, you’ve been around politics long enough to know there’s always some sad sack hanging around with a gripe or a problem. It comes with the territory.”

“I know,” I said. “Today I’m the sad sack, and I’ve kept you long enough. Have fun at brunch. Give Marty my love.”

“I will.”

“Howard, one last thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Watch your language.”

He sighed heavily. “Oh shit, that’s right. Swearing drives Marty crazy.”

I hung up. One down. Four to go.

When I walked into the kitchen, Angus was pouring juice and Taylor was eating Eggos. On my plate was a drawing of a woman: thin and glamorous, but recognizably me.

“T,” I said. “This is terrific! On the best day of my life I never looked this good.”

“I gave you planes,” T said, smiling.

“So you did,” I said. “Thanks T. You improved on God.”

She shook her head. “Oh, Jo. Like I could,” she said, and she went back to her Eggo.

When Hilda came down, she was dressed to travel. She made herself a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, and ate standing at the counter.

“Did you phone Carolyn Atcheson and ask if you could come?” I said.

Hilda shook her head. “It’s far too easy to say ‘no’ on the telephone.”

“If she won’t see you, it’s a long drive for nothing,” I said.

Hilda’s back was ramrod straight. “She’ll see me, Joanne. I’m not a person who permits a door to be barred against her.”

“Aren’t you going to church?” Angus asked innocently.

“Not today,” Hilda said.

Angus looked at me hopefully. “Mum …?”

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll all backslide today. But after today …”

“I know, I know,” Angus said, but he was already on his way to the phone to arrange a game of shinny.

I turned to Taylor. “It looks like it’s you and me against the world, kiddo,” I said. “How would you like to visit a pregnant lady?”

Manda Traynor sounded excited at the prospect of company. “Jo, you haven’t seen our new house yet. Craig
loves to show it off. And Taylor and I can play with Alex P. Kitten and Mallory.”

“You have cats,” I said.

“Two beautiful little Persians,” Manda said.

“They have cats,” I said to Taylor as I hung up.

She jumped up from the table and headed upstairs. “I’ll be ready fast,” she yelled over her shoulder.

Craig and Manda’s new house was only about six blocks from us, so Taylor and I walked. It was a dreary November morning. The sky was overcast, and the only splashes of colour in the muted tones of the city streets came from orange Hallowe’en leaf bags leaking soddenly onto the snow.

“I’ll be glad when people start putting up their Christmas decorations,” I said to Taylor.

“Me too,” Taylor said. “I’m going to make Jack a Santa hat and put him back out on the front porch.”

“Swell,” I said.

Taylor smiled up at me. “It will be swell, won’t it?”

When Craig opened his front door to us, Alex P. Kitten and Mallory were waiting. Taylor was ecstatic. “Look,” she said as she reached out to grab one of the ginger cats. “Their hair’s the same colour as Miss McCourt’s.”

The cats didn’t stick around long enough for me to make a comparison. They high-tailed it down the hall with Taylor in hot pursuit.

“Looks like it’s going to be a long morning for Alex P. Kitten and Mallory,” I said to Craig.

“They like company, and so do we,” he said, and he savoured the word
we
as if it were newly coined.

“How’s Manda doing?”

“She’s terrific. The baby’s in position now. It should be any day.” He lowered his voice. “Jo, how are you doing? I’ve
been working on the assumption that if you’d needed a lawyer, you’d have called.”

“I would have,” I said. “But the fact that I’m standing here doesn’t mean I’m out of the woods. Craig, I need help.”

“Why don’t you go in and say hi to Manda? Then we can talk.”

Manda was in the kitchen taking cookies out of the oven, and she was wearing a bright red apron that had
CHILDBIRTH, A LABOUR OF LOVE
written on the bib. Her dark hair was tied back with a red ribbon and her face was shining. When she reached out to hug me, I could smell cloves and cinnamon.

“Jo, I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too,” I said.

Somewhere in the house a cat screeched. I waited, but there was no answering howl from Taylor. “I guess Taylor’s learning that loving a cat isn’t easy,” I said.

Manda looked serious. “Jo, loving a cat is very easy. All the same, maybe I should go and give Taylor a few tips about getting acquainted. That’ll give you two a chance to get caught up.”

Craig turned to me. “Why don’t we go down to the family room? The chairs are more comfortable.”

The family room had floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall that looked out onto the back yard. Against the window, a trestle table bloomed with plants: azalea, hydrangea, fuchsia, and a huge Christmas cactus.

“This is beautiful,” I said.

“Manda and I bought the house for this room,” Craig said. “We thought it would be a great place for the kids.”

“Kids plural?” I asked.

He grinned. “Why not?”

“You’re really happy, aren’t you?” I said.

He nodded. “Happy and very humble. Not many of us get a second chance, Jo. Come here, I have something to show you.”

There was a small table in the corner. It was filled with pictures from a political life – not grip-and-grin photos, just pictures of friends. Craig picked one up and handed it to me. “Here’s one you’ll like,” he said. It was a photograph of me, as pregnant as Manda Evanson was now. I was slumped into an easy chair, asleep; propped against the wall beside the chair was a stack of
VOTE KILBOURN
lawn signs.