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Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

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BOOK: The Icing on the Corpse
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“Alvin's right. You should learn to relax a bit, Ms. MacPhee.”

“What? Don't tell me you're doing it too.”

“Maybe I should,” she said. “From time to time life seems a little dull.” I hate it when she gets that wistful note in her voice.

“Better the devil you know, Mrs. P.”

“Perhaps you're right. A tiny bit of Harvey's?”

“No, thanks. Look, can we get down to business?”

“You're the boss.” Somehow Alvin conveyed a look of wide-eyed innocence through the haze.

“Last call,” said Mrs. Parnell.

Alvin cheerfully blew smoke.

“What is the matter with you two? Do you want to get tossed into the Regional Detention Centre on charges of possession? Keep in mind it's probably too late for a bail hearing today. On the upside, you might get a chance to cosy up to Elaine and find out what she's planning.”

“What an outmoded, undemocratic and unpalatable piece of legislation anyway,” said Alvin. “Absolutely needs to be challenged.”

“Ms. MacPhee, you must learn to pick your battles.”

“Right. And the battle I'm picking is to get Elaine out of the tank before she engineers a return to capital punishment.”

“Wow,” said Alvin, “capital punishment. Could that happen?”

“Not in this country.” Mrs. Parnell drained her glass of Harvey's. “Nevertheless, Ms. MacPhee's right. We must soldier on in the fight to save Ms. Ekstein from ignoble incarceration.”

“No problem,” said Alvin.

“I'm beginning to despair of both…” I stopped mid-speech. Was Edwina's tone beginning to creep into my voice? Not that it mattered, since neither of them was paying any attention. “Fine.” I started again. “Mrs. P., did you have any luck finding out what I asked?”

“Direct hit to the target,” Mrs. Parnell said.

“Ah.”

Alvin giggled. Mrs. Parnell rammed a fresh cigarette into the holder. Alvin smirked. “We have her.”

“That's confirmed. We have been able to verify Constable Miranda Cousins was one of three officers on duty outside Lindsay Grace's house the night of the murder.” Mrs. Parnell loved this game.

“You were right, Camilla,” Alvin said. “Those police issue hats sure do make for instant ugly. She hassled me when I showed up, and I didn't even realize she was a she.”

“Well, I knew we'd had a woman officer on guard. This is good news,” I said. “It's another link between Randy Cousins and our case.”

“Calls for a toast,” said Mrs. P.

“Let's keep our heads clear and analyze this. First, a cop would be in a good position to get access to a street drug, like Rohypnol. Our gal Randy was on duty outside Lindsay's house the night the murder took place. Did she have access to the coffee? Could she have slipped the drug into it? If she felt confident we were out cold and her partner was drugged too, she would have been free to do the dirty deed and let the suspicion fall on Elaine.”

“Way to go,” said Alvin.

“Of course, on the down side, she was never alone with the coffee,” I said, “but who cares? It muddies the waters, and it's a good start on a defence.”

“But we're not Ms. Ekstein's defence team any more.” Mrs. Parnell consoled herself with a tiny top up.

Defence
team?
“Perhaps not at the moment. We'll have to wait until Elaine changes her plea, then we'll pass on this information to Berelson. Even if it is full of holes, he'll make the most of it.”

“Full of holes, Ms. MacPhee?”

“The crown will claim Constable Cousins couldn't have known about the coffee in advance. Therefore she couldn't have planned to drug it. They'll figure out she wasn't alone with the thermoses. Think back.”

“What will you say to that?”

“Nothing, since I've been dismissed from the case, but Berelson could insinuate Constable Cousins would have been looking for opportunities. Even so…”

“Maybe the pizzas,” Alvin piped up.

“We've already established the drug must have been in the coffee,” Mrs. Parnell said.

“Bummer,” said Alvin.

“Nevertheless, we believe Randy Cousins did take advantage of the situation,” Mrs. P. said.

“The reason's clear,” I said.

“Definitely,” said Mrs. P.

“Okay,” Alvin said, “I'll play. What was her reason?”

“Things were getting too hot to handle. Benning was…”

“A loose cannon,” said Mrs. Parnell.

“That's right. Her involvement in Benning's cases was a matter of record. When Benning escaped and shot a cop, she knew the brass would start to take rumours seriously. They'd flush her out fast. It didn't take us long, and we don't have access to the same information the police and the Crown had.”

Mrs. Parnell smiled.

“She had to kill him,” Alvin said.

“That's right.”

“To keep him from dragging her deeper into the situation.”

“She would have been exposed. Her career ruined. Disgrace. Resignation. Humiliation,” Mrs. P. said mistily.

“Never mind that, she'd be charged and convicted. She'd be a pariah on the force and in the community. They'd throw the book at her if they could find any complicity. And as a police officer, she'd be extremely vulnerable if she had to serve time.”

“Would she serve time?”

“Good bet.”

“Could she plead one of those battered lover cases?” Alvin said.

I still couldn't see Randy Cousins as one of Benning's lovers.

“She doesn't look the type,” Mrs. Parnell said.

“You can never tell,” Alvin said. “The weirdest people fall for each other.”

“I'm betting on plain old self-preservation. We just need to bolster our case before we go public,” I said.

“Let us do a little more digging, troops,” Mrs. P. said.

“Friends, school, previous jobs, the works,” I added. “We'll need a home address for her in order to talk to her neighbours.”

She drew herself up. “I know the drill, Ms. MacPhee. I've assembled my kit for the occasion and I'm ready to roll out.”

“And I can't be seen to be associated with your investigation.”

“Of course. And we don't want you lurking around revealing our position to the enemy. Do we, Alvin?”

“For sure.” Alvin emitted yet another cloud. “You know, Violet, those lovebirds make an awful racket, but they sure have excellent colours.”

Lester and Pierre shrieked on cue.

“Where do lovebirds come from?” Alvin said.

“Not Florida,” I said. “Not Hawaii either.”

“Lovebirds. They're like the official bird of Valentine's week.”

I leaned over to Mrs. Parnell and whispered, “Do not allow him to redecorate your apartment when he's in this state.”

“Tackle the task at hand, Ms. MacPhee. That's always been my motto.”

“Don't worry,” Alvin giggled from the sofa. “We'll get her.”

“Yes, I'm sure you will.”

“Shouldn't take long.” Mrs. Parnell hummed along with Shostakovitch as she set up a flip chart in the corner and popped the top off a black marker. “I'll plan our offensive strategy.”

“Good. I'll slip over to my place and feed your cat.”

Twenty-Five

I
hate it when I'm stuck. And I was stuck again. Alvin and Mrs. Parnell were having all the fun. I had nothing better to do than sit around and wait for someone to try and kill me. They were still at their research the next morning. I wasn't sure if they'd slept the night before. It seemed better not to ask.

I decided to leave them to it and enjoy an Alvin-free morning at the office. It just wasn't as pleasant as I'd expected. Every single activity at Justice for Victims was boring. Letters to be written, signed and photocopied. Filing. Briefs to be read. Briefs to be written. Plans for fundraising to be thought through.

Not to mention the kind of stuff Alvin puts off.

It would have been a good day to shop for a bridesmaid's dress, but apparently that was already taken care of.

I cleaned out the voice mail, including a breathless message from P. J. saying he thought I'd understand about the non-nephews if he could spend a bit of time explaining it to me. He had a tip for me too.

Delete.

I thought about the case instead. The biggest problem was obviously Elaine. The longer she stayed in jail issuing self-incriminating statements to the press, the more likely she'd get a hefty sentence. Elaine was stubborn, short-sighted and maybe even crazy, but there are worse traits, and, anyway, she'd always been there for me whenever I'd needed help. Trouble was, unless we could prove Randy Cousins' involvement, Elaine's neck would stay on the line. The cops would protect their own, and I had less than no pull with the Crown. There was nothing I could do without making the situation worse.

Or was there?

After an hour of pacing and muttering out loud, I had an idea.

And a good way to kill two birds.

“Hey!” I said, “it's Camilla.”

Complete and utter silence.

“Hello?”

Not even the sound of breathing.

“Leonard, are you there?”

“What do you want?”

“Is that anyway to talk to a friend? I need to discuss a few of the wedding arrangements with you. Do we have to fight?”

“Wedding arrangements?”

“Exactly.”

“Let's see if I understand. You want to talk about the wedding arrangements with
me.
Do I have that right?”

“You do.”

“Pull the other one, Camilla.”

“No, really. You know what my sisters are like.”

“What is your point? I have work to do here.”

“The whole is so much greater than the sum of the parts when it comes to the MacPhee girls. They are formidable when they're together. Surely you've noticed.”

“Okay, I'll concede they're…”

“You got it. They're a force of nature at the best of times. And Alexa is right over the top about this wedding.”

“Well, maybe.”

“So, its difficult for me to ask simple questions or make little suggestions without causing a blow-up.”

“I don't have all day.”

“Leonard, we're in the wedding party together, remember. I need to know what's going to happen when. I thought we could talk over coffee. But, look, don't worry about it. I understand you can't be seen with me because of this directive. I shouldn't have bothered you. Forget it happened, okay? I'll see you at the rehearsal.”

“Look, sorry. I guess it would be okay. You're not going to hound me about the Ekstein case, right?”

“Absolutely not. Well, you're the one with the time constraint. How about the Colonnade for lunch? Say one o'clock? You've gotta eat.”

He grunted before he hung up. I took that as a yes.

“Weather's warming up.” Mombourquette shook the slush off his boots.

“Terrific.” I was happy because he'd actually shown up. “At this rate the snow will soon be completely melted. They don't call it Waterlude for nothing.”

I could tell he was checking for signs of sarcasm. I reminded myself to cut it out.

“My treat. Name your poison,” I added.

Minutes later we were tucked into a table for two at the Colonnade, sipping hot coffee and waiting for our personal-size pizzas. I love the chicken, mushroom and green pepper version, so I might have been smiling.

“What happened to your face?”

“Came off second best in a fight with a snowbank. You can see why I don't mind if it warms up.”

“What…?”

“Never mind. Now, Leonard, the wedding. I thought we could strike a truce until it's over.”

“We'll both live longer if we do.”

“My point exactly.” I slapped a large wedding planner I'd picked up from Mags and Fags onto the table. “As members of the wedding party, we have obligations. I thought we could check them out.”

“I already know what to do.”

“You do?”

“Yes, Conn gave me a written list of instructions. It had my responsibilities laid out in point form with time frames and a place to check off each activity as it's completed. Came with a little pen.”

“Ah. That would be Edwina's doing.”

“I assumed all instructions would have come from Alexa.” Mombourquette picked up the Wedding Planner.

“Nope. It's Edwina's style.”

“Whoever. They're clear-cut, easy to follow. It's just one day, and Conn has been my partner for a lot of years.” He started leafing through the pages of the planner.

“So Conn gave you a sheet. But I don't have the equivalent sheet for the maid of honour? I wonder why?”

“I bet it's because you wouldn't follow any of the instructions, no matter who they were from. They probably farmed out your chores to other people.” Mombourquette stopped flipping and pointed out a sizeable checklist. “Did you help address the invitations?”

“Is that a joke?”

“Did you arrange the shower?”

“Of course not, Edwina and Donalda did all that. They'd never leave me in charge of something like that. Is there more?”

“Lots of stuff on the wedding day. Help the bride to get dressed. Ensure the other attendants are presentable. Witness the wedding certificate. Remind the bride of the reception time table. Help the bride get ready…”

“This is the first I've heard about any of this. Except maybe the witnessing.”

“It's all standard stuff. I guess your family doesn't believe you'll do it. Or they don't believe you'll get it right.”

“I'm glad we're having this talk. What happens at this rehearsal?”

“Use your brain.”

“Listen, Leonard. It's on Friday, three days before the wedding. I just need to know is there a reason for that timing?”

“Not that I'm aware of. Just a scheduling thing. You should know all this.”

“No need to be snippy, Leonard. I guess we're expected to dress up?”

“I'd say we should look respectable. And you should make an effort to be polite.”

“I guess I can do that, since the damn thing means so much to Alexa. Even though it's obviously brought her to the brink of psychosis. But hey.”

“Good.”

“On a related topic, Officer Randy Cousins. You've worked with her quite a bit. Did she ever have a relationship with Ralph Benning?”

His cup hit the table with a bang. “What?”

“You heard me. Is that what the police are trying to keep secret?”

“Did you get me here to talk about that? You are reprehensible.”

Big word for a little rodent. “Hey, don't get me wrong. I needed to talk to you about the wedding stuff. I seem to have the wrong effect on people over the phone for some reason. Since I can't go to police HQ, I figured you wouldn't mind. We're practically family.”

“You're barking up the wrong tree about Randy, Camilla.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you're also full of shit.”

“Could be. But you might want to check and see how many times she was involved with Benning's arrests, charges and other stuff.”

“No, I don't want to. Randy is one of the finest officers I ever met, and I can tell you she has never been involved with Ralph Benning in any inappropriate way.”

“She was on guard at Lindsay's house the night Benning was killed. Kind of a coincidence. She a friend of yours?”

“She's someone I have a tremendous amount of respect for.”

“We hate it, don't we, when it looks like our friends are unjustly accused. I found out the hard way. Give it a bit of thought.”

“You're a real bitch, Camilla.” He pushed back his chair.

“You know something, Leonard? I checked the Confederation Park site and guess what, there's no video surveillance there. I mentioned it to Conn and to Mia Reilly. Neither of them deny it.” I had him.

“I know,” he said.

“How did you get the tape?”

“It was dropped off in the police station.”

“Oh, great. Speaking of security, did anyone catch sight of the person who dropped it?”

“It was just left in the second floor hall.” He wasn't meeting my eyes.

“That's interesting. Someone who had access to the police station without being noticed. Someone like, let's say for the sake of argument, a police officer? So, Leonard, who do you suppose took that video footage?”

I could tell by the way he shrugged that he'd been asking the same question.

“If you're about to suggest she did it herself to get media attention, then why was she so careful not to show her face? We both know why. Because it wasn't her. It was someone else. And your job should be to find out who. Here's another question for you. Why did you head for Lindsay's house the morning after Benning died? Did Officer Cousins suggest it?”

“No, she didn't. An anonymous tip.” Mombourquette was on his feet, gripping the table.

“Was your anonymous tip from a police cruiser?”

“No, it wasn't.”

“Where was it from?”

“A phone booth. Not that it's your business.” We had the attention of everyone at the neighbouring tables by this time.

“It is my business. You know what I think?”

“I don't give a rat's ass.”

It was hard to let that pass, but I stuck to my guns. “Officer Randy Cousins was in Benning's pocket, and Benning was getting too hot to handle. Maybe she helped him to escape, killed him and then decided to frame Lindsay Grace. She was in a position to do it.”

Mombourquette's incisors gleamed. “Listen to me. And listen good. The first domestic Randy pulled, the husband murdered the wife. Stabbed her with the carving knife. Thirty-one times. Randy held her hand while she died. She was covered in the victim's blood by the time the back-up showed. The perp pleaded down and got out in eighteen months. Randy hates wife-beaters. She's a big supporter of WAVE and all those other groups. There's no fucking way she had anything going with Benning.”

That was loud enough to get everyone's attention, even the crowd waiting for take-out at the other end of the café.

“Her name turns up in connection with his dozens of times.”

“There's a good reason. She pulled out all the stops to get him. She was out to nail the bastard.”

“Maybe you shouldn't shout, Leonard.”

“Maybe you should learn to listen.”

“Okay, I get it. Randy Cousins couldn't have killed Benning because she was out to nail him.”

“You got this assbackwards, Camilla. Every member of the force will go out of his way to stop you from hassling Randy.”

“I understand why she attended his funeral. I'm not letting this one go, Leonard.”

“You'd better. And stay away from Randy.”

“Oh, and you asked about my face. I picked up my new look in an attack right after I left you in the police gym. Who followed me out of the gym, Leonard? Think back. Whose raised knees would match up with my kidneys, right here?”

He headed for the door and turned, “Get a rabies shot, Camilla, unless it's too late.”

Every eye in the Colonnade followed him as he stormed out the door. I felt the heads swivel back to me.

“See you Friday, sweetie.” I blew him a kiss.

I kept my chin up until the two personal-sized pizzas arrived. Then I smiled. Watching the take-out section had given me an answer.

BOOK: The Icing on the Corpse
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