Authors: Mary Jane Maffini
“What about his medication?”
“I had some on me. Everyone in my family’s carrying Jimmy’s medication. You know that.”
“You’re sure it’s the best thing?”
“Why not? You’ve been after me to go.”
“Don’t be facetious. Mrs. P. and I will pick you up as soon as possible. In the meantime, can you try and find out what happened to him in Sydney?”
“It’s still too upsetting for him. I’ll wait until his medication kicks in, Camilla. He’s safe now. We’ll get the story when the excitement dies down.”
“You’re right. I’ve got to get a grip.”
I hugged Mrs. P. and I hugged P. J. I hugged three complete strangers. I hugged a camera technician. I drew the line at hugging Nicholas Southern, but I did nod at him as he walked by. Which was something.
“P. J,” I said, “they found him. They found Jimmy! You’ll never believe where we’re going now. Is that crazy or what? I’m so glad it’s over.”
I noticed that, across the room, I had all of Will Redmore’s attention. His eyes fastened on us. Thank God I didn’t have to worry about that any more. Jimmy was safe at last.
As we walked by Redmore, I said. “Remember me? I plan to be your undoing.”
Hey. Sometimes it just feels right.
• • •
If you ever want to get out of a parking lot fast, don’t park your big honking Buick by the hotel door when half the new money in town is rolling its Jaguars and Mercedeses and Lexuses through the parking gates at half the speed of an old glacier.
I left messages for Deveau and Mombourquette.
“Such wonderful news,” Mrs. Parnell said when I hung up. “What a relief.”
I handed her the phone. “Yeah. But Alvin will be having a bird because it’s taking us so long. Do you want to get him and tell him we’ll be there eventually?”
She was already keying in the number. They chatted happily while I gave a few moguls the finger.
• • •
Jimmy looked bedraggled and smelled worse. Streaks of dust lined his handsome face. Even his hair had dust in it. He grinned at me when Alvin introduced us. Well, we all had goofy grins. Mrs. Parnell’s eyes seemed suspiciously wet. “We’ve been worried about you, Jimmy. You must have been scared after that fire. Where did you stay?” I asked, as he settled into the Buick.
“Tell her, Jimmy,” Alvin said.
Jimmy said, “Aw, come on, Allie.”
“You’ll never guess where Jimmy slept the last two nights.”
“Under a bridge,” Jimmy said, with some pride. “Some girls told me about it.”
“That explains a lot,” I said.
“There were lots of ducks. And even some swans. They let you feed them. You’d like that, Allie.”
“Sure would, Jimmy.” Alvin’s voice was tight.
“Are you okay now?” I said.
“I am. It was scary, and I’m glad to see Allie. We’ll be safe here, won’t we?”
“Yes. You can come back to my place or Mrs. Parnell’s. We’ll all make sure you’re okay. We’re glad Alvin found you.”
“It was just luck,” Alvin said.
“We’re lucky, aren’t we, Allie?”
“Yeah, Jimmy. We’re lucky now.”
“But I left my stuff under the bridge. Can we go get it afterwards?”
“What stuff?” Alvin said.
“What bridge?” I said.
“Of course we can,” Mrs. Parnell said.
Alvin pointed. “Look, Jimmy. There’s Gadzooks Gallery.”
• • •
There was a tow-away sign in front of the gallery. It probably didn’t bother most of the customers. I guess if you can afford those immense glass sculptures, your chauffeur could drop you off to browse and come when you snapped your fingers.
I let the gang off in front of the door and found the first parking spot which was halfway up the hill. I was grumbling when I got out of the car. I passed a wizened panhandler
shuffling up the incline.
The panhandler gave us a dusty grin, showing at least four teeth. “I hope things get better for you, Missus,” he said.
“You too.” I fished out a loonie from my pocket. Even though I prefer to give directly to the Food Bank or the Mission. Even though I knew the panhandler might just as easily head to the liquor store instead of the Loeb for fresh vegetables. I have a roof over my head and more food than I need, even if it is in cans. And I have to look at myself in the mirror. I was glad to get that good wish, even from a rumpled old stranger who had troubles of his own.
I’d missed the expression on René’s face when the three dusketeers walked through the door of Gadzooks, but he hadn’t recovered his composure when I arrived. No wonder. Alvin still had tear-tracks down his cheeks. So did Mrs. Parnell. Who knows. Maybe I did too. It was quite obvious Jimmy had been living on the streets. A couple of clients escaped through the door.
Jimmy turned around and around, touching every elaborate glass construction in the gallery. “This is so beautiful, Allie. Look at all the things.”
“Sculptures, Jimmy. Glass sculptures.”
“They’re beautiful, just like you said they were. Like magic.” He reached up to touch the spectacular outcroppings of a three-part sculpture that towered with spiked shards of glass.
“Yes, they’re like magic.”
“No wonder you said this would be the best job ever, Allie.”
Alvin glanced my way. “Sorry, Camilla.”
“Hey. I can handle it.”
René didn’t look like he could handle it.
“We want to thank you,” I said, “for your understanding as Alvin dealt with this incredible crisis with his brother.”
“Is this the boy they were talking about on television and radio? I heard the appeal for information about your brother on television.” He leaned over and whispered to me. “Was another brother killed?”
“That turned out to be a mistake. I want to apologize. But now everything has turned out well. Alvin’s been through hell, but he’ll snap right back and be in to work in no time.”
René glanced at Alvin. If I read the expression on his face right, he didn’t think Alvin would ever get back to normal. I could see his point, but I knew better.
“You can’t believe the resilience this young man has. I owe him my life. What more can an employer want or say? At any rate, he’ll be back on the job by Monday, I’m sure. We’ll be sure to mention where he works in any media coverage of Jimmy’s story, won’t we, Alvin?”
I grinned at Jimmy, who had made his way to the very back of the gallery, smiling and touching, smiling and touching.
“Lord thundering Jesus,” Alvin said.
“Now, Alvin.” I wanted just enough warning in my tone to keep him suitably polite.
“Look out!” Alvin grabbed at Jimmy.
“Troops, hit the dirt and roll,” Mrs. Parnell yelled. “Cover your heads.”
I turned to see the front end of Stan’s Buick flying towards the plate glass window. Only René stayed on his feet, gaping in disbelief. The rest of us hit the floor, rolling towards the side of the room.
When the last shards of shattered glass tinkled on to the floor, we raised our heads and stared.
It was too late for the splendid glass statues. Too late for the Buick. And, unless he was very lucky, it was too late for René Janveau.
The ambulance carrying René had just shrieked out of sight, and I was picking glass out of my hair when Mombourquette showed up. He looked around Gadzooks and shook his head.
“I guess you call this a crash course in Modern Art, eh?”
“What a wit,” I said.
Mombourquette was just warming up. He turned his beady eyes to the Buick. The front was in the middle of the Gallery, and the tail end just protruded through the window. “Remind me never to lend you my car.”
“With all due respect, Lennie,
I
didn’t drive that car through the window.”
“Why is it you two just can’t stay out of trouble?”
“Stay out of trouble? We were visiting an art gallery. I fail to see how even you can construe that to be getting into trouble.”
He pointed to the Buick. “Exhibit A.”
“This is Alvin’s new place of employment,” I said sadly. Mombourquette flashed his incisors. “And already it’s trashed. That’s setting some new kind of record.”
Ray Deveau appeared in what was left of the door, red-faced and out of breath. “What do you mean, some new kind of record?”
“He doesn’t mean anything.”
“I mean when you get these two together, you’re gonna have
broken glass, cars crashing, gunshots, people getting killed, that sort of thing.”
I said, “What a kidder. Come on, Mombourquette. There’s a café across the street. Let’s go get some cheese.”
“I don’t know who’s worse, her or him,” Mombourquette said. “They’ve cost the taxpayer more than a few bucks, let me tell you. So what was this glass thing before Stan’s Buick ran through it?”
“It was a Josef Weinburg,” Alvin said weakly from the floor. “Worth sixty thousand dollars.”
“Really? Worth a bundle, was it? Maybe your new boss will have to dock your pay for the next while.”
I couldn’t remember Mombourquette ever blaming Alvin for anything before. Usually I was the villain. Alvin deserves to be picked on from time to time, but this was definitely not one of the times.
“Alvin was not to blame. Jimmy insisted on coming here. He was trying to do the best he could to keep Jimmy calm until his medicine kicked in.”
“And this is the best he could do? So, Camilla, Ray tells me you’re causing trouble for him too.”
Deveau said, “Knock it off, Lennie.”
“Listen, enough of this crap, Leonard,” I said. “We have been victimized here. You guys should get off your butts and talk to Will Redmore. I don’t know how, but I know goddam well he’s behind this.”
I picked up my cellphone and called P. J. to give him the same opinion.
Alvin said, “Where’s Jimmy?”
We raced to the door. We checked the street, looked behind the garbage cans in the alley, circled the block, called Jimmy’s name. Alvin ran frantically through the neighbouring streets,
his ponytail swaying wildly.
But Jimmy Ferguson was nowhere to be seen.
• • •
A half-hour later, there was still no sign of him. Mombourquette was unamused and Deveau was confused, P. J. was unavailable, and Vince Ferguson, when he finally showed up, was furious. He seemed to speak for the rest of the family who milled about, wailing.
“What were you thinking taking that boy anywhere but to a hospital?”
“I called you, Vince. It’s what he wanted,” Alvin bleated.
Vince’s comments were unprintable. That turned out to be a strategic error on his part. Mrs. Parnell pulled herself up to her full height and unleashed a tongue-lashing I will remember for a while.
“You don’t deserve this boy,” Mrs. P. said whenever a Ferguson opened its mouth. Alvin was sunk on the floor, back to the wall, face in his hands.
“Did you manage to waylay Honey Redmore at lunchtime?” I asked Vince.
“Of course I didn’t. First of all, I don’t dance to your tune. Second, I was looking for Jimmy. Third, had I found him, I wouldn’t have exposed him to danger.”
Vince was exposing himself to danger at that point, but Deveau got between us and pulled me away.
Outside the gallery, media trucks vied with ambulances and police cars. All you could see were flashing lights. Glinting off the shimmering piles of glass. Reflecting off the deep gloss of the crumpled Buick. A SOCO made his way toward the scene.
I turned to Deveau who was scratching his head. “It made
sense at the time for Alvin to bring Jimmy here, you know.”
“I don’t even know what to say. It’s unbelievable.”
“The worst thing is, the killer might have a better idea how to find him than we do. Unless Mombourquette pulls him off the street.”
“They have an all-points bulletin out. Don’t worry. They’ll get him.”
• • •
Mrs. Parnell did not believe she was in need of medical attention for shock. She looked a lot more chipper than she had before the Buick shot through the window. Alvin, on the other hand, was bleeding.
“We will all go looking for him,” I said, “but not before you two see a doctor. Don’t argue.”
Deveau had a rental. Once Alvin had accepted his need for stitches, Deveau drove us five blocks to the Sandy Hill Health Centre walk-in clinic. I explained the logic behind my theory to Deveau and Alvin.
Alvin said. “I don’t remember any boys in the park. I don’t recall anything about that day. Except Jimmy going to the hospital in an ambulance and everyone crying.”
“Donald Donnie and Loretta remember it. Clearly. It puts a different spin on things, doesn’t it?”
“Are you all right, dear boy?” Mrs. Parnell said.
I stuck to my guns. “It could have been an attack.”
Alvin nodded. “If it’s true, then I didn’t cause Jimmy’s accident. It would mean I didn’t leave him alone to play in the water. I ran for help. It’s a terrible thing to say, but I almost hope it is true, that there were boys. I always thought it was my fault. I never knew how I could do such an awful
thing to my little brother.”
“And your family let you think that,” I said under my breath.
“Too bad I missed my chance to see this guy at the Château. Maybe it would have triggered a memory,” Alvin said to my surprise.
“You will get a chance to see Redmore because Mrs. Parnell got some great shots with her digital camera.”
“Unfortunately, it was in the Buick,” she said. “It’s gone now.”
“You checked?”
“I did.”
“You mean you checked after the car went through the window?”
“Of course.”
• • •
Deveau watched my face intently. Not a sign of the mellow man I’d come to like some much. “Hard to believe the things kids can do sometimes,” he said.
“We’ve got a couple of things to follow up on, and I don’t think they’re at the top of the list for the police here. But they will make a difference. Will you help us?” I figured this was a major test.
Ray Deveau passed with honours. “Wouldn’t miss the opportunity. Lennie might not like it, but that’s not my problem.”
“We need you to track down Father Blaise. I think he’s got information we need.”
I liked the idea that I could surprise Deveau.
“Really?” he said. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“He’s attending something at St. Paul’s University here. But he hasn’t returned Mrs. Parnell’s calls. You take care of that, and I’ll confirm something about the first hit and run.”