The Icing on the Corpse (6 page)

Thirty minutes later, Mrs. Parnell and I pulled up outside Lindsay's place on Echo Drive. Mrs. Parnell's perfectly serviceable vehicle shuddered to a halt. The unmarked cop car still idled across the street.

By the time I had hoisted the walker from the back seat, an officer had ambled over to greet us. Nice as pie, his hand on his holster. The other officer was also out of the cruiser. Maybe they needed a stretch. Maybe they thought we looked suspicious. Maybe it had been a while since they'd seen a 1975 Ford LTD.

Mrs. Parnell clutched her two metal-pronged back-up canes. She opened her mouth to speak.

“Don't be a smartass,” I told her. “Evening,” I nodded to the cop. I recognized him from court.

He, on the other hand, did not recognize me.

It took longer to talk our way into Lindsay's town house than to cross town. In part this was because I was dressed in Mrs. Parnell's thirty-year old beaver coat with the matching hat. I looked like her evil twin, although I did think the neon yellow laces and trim on the Sorels were a nice contemporary touch. Both cops squinted at my picture ID for long enough to make a point.

I was glad of the Sorels, because we stood and waited while the officer poked through our overnight cases, sniffed Mrs. Parnell's bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream, inspected the walker for hidden hazards, and checked out Mrs. Parnell's ID. Then he put me on the phone with my brother-in-law-to-be, Conn McCracken, to make extra sure. I even had to hand the phone to Mrs. Parnell so Conn could confirm her identity.

“Resist the urge to be cute,” I told Conn as I handed the receiver back to the officer. “It's cold out here.”

It took long enough, but we passed the test and scurried through the door. Merv seemed almost glad to see us, although I wouldn't want to stretch it. He settled Mrs. Parnell into an oversized armchair with a glass of sherry and her David Lloyd George biography. I perched on the ottoman. He continued to pace, long legs stretching out over the distance from kitchen to living room, living room to kitchen. Lindsay didn't even lift her head off the sofa. She lay with her eyes closed, her hair cascading over one of the large cushions.

“I think it's hitting her. He's holding Rina and is totally out of control,” Merv said.

We all went quiet. I think Rina's situation was sinking in with everyone.

“I thought he didn't know where this young lady lived,” Mrs. Parnell said after a while. “And that is why we took my car and why Ms. MacPhee wore some of my outerwear. To throw him off the scent in case he was tracking her.”

Merv met my eyes. The police had placed a heavy guard around Rina too. We both knew Benning would be after Lindsay regardless. Just a matter of time. Question was, would he find her before the police found him? And would we be able to stop him?

The doorbell pealed, loud and musical. Merv snapped to attention. Mrs. Parnell struggled to her feet. Lindsay lifted her head from the sofa. We gawked in the direction of the front door. I ran behind Merv to the foyer.

“You guard the back door in case he tries to distract us and kick his way in,” Merv said.

I thought I heard a small cry from Lindsay. I would have chewed Merv out, but he'd heard the cry too, and he was chewing himself out.

“I'll watch the rear door.” Mrs. Parnell was already lurching toward the back of the house, moving her walker menacingly.

The doorbell rang again. I don't think anyone in the room had even exhaled at this point.

“Who is it?” Merv pressed the button on the intercom. He didn't sound his tough old Mountie self. Lindsay was weeping softly in the background.

“It's me. Alvin.”

“Alvin?” I said.

“That's right, it's
Alvin”

“No need to be peevish.”

“Well, what part of ‘Alvin' don't you understand, Camilla?”

“Be civil.”

“I'll be civil when I get inside.”

“Well, you'd better try before. By the way, it's nice and warm in here.”

“I never complain about the cold. You know I like this weather. It's the company I don't care for.” At least I think that's what he said. It was hard to tell with his teeth chattering.

“Okay, let him in, Merv.”

“How do we know the little peckerhead's alone?”

“What?”

“Benning could be right behind him, using him as a ploy to push his way in.”

I thought I heard another gasp from the sofa.

“Nevertheless, I'm ready for him if he does.” Mrs. Parnell had made her way back from the back door.

Lindsay raised her head from the cushion. “Press the button on the airphone and you can see who's outside.” Sure enough, the small screen showed Alvin. Next to him stood one of the officers from the unmarked car. Behind him, a cab idled.

It took a while for Merv to bite the bullet and open the door. Alvin's image was cool rather than cold. The tip of his nose looked frostbitten, which was too bad since Alvin was no beauty to begin with.

“It's okay,” I called to the officer. “He works for me. Although not very hard.”

“Hello, Lindsay.” Alvin made his icy way into the living room. I was glad I wasn't the one with nine visible earrings and a metal eyebrow ring. No doubt even Alvin's belly button chain was frozen to his skin.

Lindsay managed to smile at him. I put it down to the parrots on his shirt.

“Listen,” I said into my chirping cellphone, “this is not a good time.” I could feel everyone's eyes as I tried to disengage Alexa from her theme: my need to pick out a bridesmaid's dress. “I'll go into the kitchen for this. Since it's hard to hold a private conversation here”

Alexa continued to squeak.

“Hold that thought,” I said into the phone. “I'll head to the other room so I don't interrupt any of the fascinating conversations in here. Hold your horses, and I'll be right with you.”

Two minutes later, I was holed up in the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee and a grip on myself. I tried to think about what made my sister tick so I could use the information to get her off my back.

“Alexa. I know this wedding thing is important to you.”

Squawk.

“As it would be to anybody. Of course…” I took a deep breath. You can try to beat my family or you can join them. But it's a hell of a lot easier to join them, because to the best of my knowledge they've never been beaten. I'll take my chances with politicians and defence lawyers. “What? No. I do
not
intend to demean the ceremony and all it stands for…what an idea…Well, Alexa, that's a lot to read into someone's reaction to shopping for a dress.”

This could be dangerous. In an unguarded moment, I might reveal to Alexa where I was and why. Ten minutes later my nearest and dearest would pile into the townhouse to help by bossing everyone around. We already had enough bosses, and I didn't want my sisters interfering with the tricky business of keeping Lindsay safe.

“Fine, I will put my money where my mouth is…Sure, I'll make a commitment to shop for the dress. Okay, okay, it doesn't have to be neutral. Yes, I understand black is out of the question. I'll do it…Yes, I know the ceremony's only two weeks away. Yes, I promise…No, not tonight. I'm tied up for the next little while.”

Who knew how long it might be before Benning's rampage would end?

“I can't help it. I'll shop with you on Saturday, and we'll find a dress you approve of.” Saturday had to be a safe bet. No way Benning could evade the entire focus of the Ottawa police much longer.

“Oh, it is not too late, Alexa. Be serious. That's more than a week before the ceremony. No, that's the absolute earliest. Well, I can't help it. Previous commitments. Yes, I realize being a bridesmaid is a commitment…No, I do not have any reason to want to ruin the ceremony for you. None at all…Alexa, you are out of control. What is it with you? The way you carry on, all this stress and anxiety, perhaps you don't want to go on with this wedding. Could that be it? Second thoughts? Cold feet? Alexa? Alexa?”

I returned to the living room to face a weird tableau. They might have been cast in bronze, statues in a public plaza. Merv stayed in a half crouch, Alvin's mouth hung open wide enough to reveal fillings. Mrs. P. leaned against her walker. I could smell the spilt sherry from her overturned glass. No one moved to wipe it from the pale hardwood floor. The sole sound was the local weather news from the radio.

“What is it? What happened.”

No one spoke.

“Will somebody tell me what the hell's going on here?”

“They found her body.” Alvin dropped his voice.

“Whose body?”

“Holy shit, keep your voice down,” Merv said. “Lindsay will hear.” Lindsay lay motionless on the sofa, covered with a mohair throw.

“You're the one yelling, Merv.”

“Settle down, troops,” Mrs. Parnell whispered. “There was a news bulletin, Camilla. The body of a woman has been dumped in a snowbank off one of the side roads west of Kanata.”

Alvin whispered, “Benning's wife.”

T
hey gave her name on the radio? Before notifying her family?” I couldn't believe it.

Mrs. Parnell nodded. “Someone who was being interviewed blurted it out. Must have been traumatic finding her. She'd been beaten.”

From the sofa, Lindsay murmured, “What happened?”

Merv and Alvin broke out of their statue routine. Merv loped over and sat by her side. He picked up her small white hand. “It's okay,” he said.

“Is it Ralph?” She rubbed her eyes with her free hand.

“Yes,” I said.

Merv gave me a warning look. “No.”

Alvin dug an elbow in my ribs. Even Mrs. Parnell shook her head. What was this dopiness? Why would we keep this information from Lindsay?

“Please, what is it?” Lindsay sat up, small and shaky.

Merv said, “Nothing. And nothing will happen to you while I'm alive to prevent it.”

From Lindsay's other side, Alvin slid onto the sofa. “Goes double for me.”

Lindsay appeared not to have heard them. She leaned forward, head in her hands. “It is Ralph, isn't it? No one can stop him.”

“I can stop him,” said Merv.

“Me, too,” said Alvin.

Lindsay was right, even if she didn't have all the facts yet. I knew it even if those two bozos didn't. Time to set the record straight here. I opened my mouth. Mrs. Parnell motioned me to step aside.

“In a minute,” I said.

“It's important.” She gripped her walker and headed for the kitchen.

Fine. I followed her.

“Wait until the right time to tell her,” she said, when we were out of earshot. “She's a bit shell-shocked. We're not all suitable for life in the trenches.”

“Oh, come on. She's not a child. She has a right to know. Do you think she won't hear it on the news? She's shown courage. What's wrong with you people?”

“Not everyone is like you, Ms. MacPhee.”

“Maybe not, but she's an intelligent woman, and she…”

“Let us be circumspect.”

“Mrs. Parnell, I expect you to be sensible. What is gained by not telling her?”

“She's traumatized. You should wait until she's had a chance to let those pills take effect. I recognize the situation is serious. Nevertheless, we have to be gentle if we want her to get over this.”

“Listen, she's the one whose life is in danger. And she's already doped to the ears.”

“The police are bound to catch up with him after this. But in the meantime, even if he shows up, she's safe with us here.”

“I hope to hell we're up to the task.”

Mrs. Parnell straightened up smartly. “Up to it? This will be our finest hour.”

Maybe. I'd already found out the hard way I can fend off a murderer. Mrs. P. was equal to any emergency, although you'd never guess it. Merv had the security training. He and Alvin were prepared to lay down their lives for Lindsay if they had to.

On the other hand, how many officers were searching for Ralph Benning and had failed? How had he managed to evade them? I hoped Mrs. P. was right. I couldn't let myself think about Rina Benning's last moments. We would mourn her once Lindsay was safe.

Until Benning made his next move, there didn't seem to be a goddam thing we could do.

I swallowed my pride and put in another call to my brother-in-law to be. Not that he answered or that anyone in her right mind would expect him to during this emergency. But I can't stand sitting around.

I stalked through the house. Up to the second floor and then down. Opened every door. Tried each window. Stepped out on both balconies. Stretched my neck into the attic crawl space. Crawled under the beds. Snooped around the walk-in clothes cupboards. Reached behind the coats and the out-of-season wardrobe. Stuck my nose past the shower curtain. Poked around in the front entrance closet, behind Lindsay's fur coat and ski gear. Peered in behind suitcases and packing boxes in the basement. Checked inside the movers' boxes still stacked three high. Inspected the gas furnace. Merv had done pretty much the same thing a couple of hours earlier.

The two musketeers were still huddled around Lindsay when I arrived back in the living room. Mrs. Parnell hulked in her chair looking vigilant and more than a little dangerous.

I cleaned up the spilled sherry. Then I slipped on my Sorels and the beaver coat, pulled on the hat and stuck my nose out the door. The cruiser was still parked in front of the building.

“Keep an eye on me,” I said to Mrs. Parnell.

Once she'd lurched across the room, I stepped through the door. I stood on the front steps and scanned the street. Intermittent traffic inched along the smooth curve of Colonel By Drive. Across the road, a lone jogger, face covered by a balaclava, puffed along the canal footpath. From the vantage point of the steps, I could see small packs of resolute skaters glide along the ice of the canal, scarves fluttering. No need to worry this year about melting ice or rain. Just the clink of falling fingers and noses. You don't have to be crazy to live in Ottawa in the winter, but it helps.

We had a new police shift parked in front of the house. The driver looked vaguely familiar. The two officers watched the jogger head around the bend and under the Queensway. They probably figured a jogger, wearing black, could get real close to Lindsay's place in the dark. And all joggers look alike. When the runner puffed out of sight, one of the cops turned to watch the skaters and the other scanned the condo front and sides. He spotted me, looking nothing short of dangerous in my get-up. He climbed out of the cruiser and placed his hand near his holster. Oh good, my tax dollars hard at work yet again.

Still, was it enough?

“Heard the news?” I asked. The other officer was female, although it was hard to tell with her police-issue winter hat. At least she didn't have the fur flap down,
Fargo-
style. She was sipping Tim Hortons coffee, the cup held in her leather-gloved hands. The two of them exchanged glances.

“What's he got to lose?” I said.

“Do I know you?” The driver squinted at me.

“Camilla MacPhee. Justice for Victims, Constable James. And you know damn well who I am and why I'm here.”

I'd seen him in court often enough, and he had an easy name to remember.

“Oh right. I heard you were here.”

I just smiled. Even if the Ottawa force hadn't sent Mr. Congeniality, I was glad they'd sent two officers, and they were awake and suspicious. Suspicious was just what we needed.

I was suspicious too. Not to mention worried about just how secure Lindsay's building really was. If Ralph Benning had nothing to lose before, now he had less than nothing. Getting shot by the cops was the best he could hope for. If the laws of physics permitted it, Benning would do it.

So did the laws of physics permit Benning to get into Lindsay's house? Only one way to find out. “You want to let the guy in the back know I'm coming around to check things out?” No point in getting shot myself.

Lindsay's place was an end unit. Pricey, an extra wall of windows with a panoramic view down the frozen canal. Glamorous. Security was well thought out. Floodlights eliminated most shadows. I pussyfooted along the side of the unit, feeling the eyes of the two officers on me. Motion detectors picked up my movements, and more lights flicked on. A shadowy Mrs. Parnell dogged my footsteps from window to window. I nodded. She waved her Benson and Hedges.

The back was an open courtyard with visitor parking. I peered under the small deck at Lindsay's utility entrance, but it was a
pro forma
exercise. I couldn't imagine Benning holed up on the petrified ground letting himself freeze to death. Although one could always hope.

In the back of the condo, I crunched in the snow, which was near the top of my Sorels. In the dark kitchen window, the tip of Mrs. Parnell's cigarette glowed.

If it hadn't been for the fog of breath on the window, I might not even have spotted the officer in the unmarked car, out of view. He'd spotted me though. I ambled over to the driver's side. He opened the window. I was glad the police were covering the house so well, even if he didn't look pleased to see me.

“Did you hear Benning killed his wife?” I said.

He nodded.

“We don't want another tragedy. You tracking the cars coming in and out? You have to inform us if you see anything suspicious. Here's a cell number.” I gave him Merv's.

“I think
you're
suspicious.” He wrinkled his nose. Might have been from residual mothballs on the beaver coat.

“Funny.” I turned and headed back. I stopped at the cruiser out front first.

“Can I do something else for you?” Officer James asked.

“Sure, you can make sure we all stay off the major media by keeping my client alive.” You can always tell when people bite their tongues. “Let's not forget Benning slipped past a bunch of your boys at his wife's place.”

The faces hardened.

“He has the same grudge against Lindsay Grace,” I said. “Make sure you keep her alive.”

“We have round-the-clock surveillance. We know what he's capable of. He shot an officer, remember? We want him just as badly as you do.”

“What about the roof? How do you know he won't come across the roof, rappel down the side or back of the house and cut his way into one of the windows? Or cut a hole through the roof itself?”

Their eyes met again. I thought the second officer mouthed the word “crackpot.”

“Trust me,” I said, “Nothing's too farfetched in this case.”

“We're on the job here. You head back inside and let us do it.”

“Make sure you're up to it. One woman dead in a day is more than enough. You people didn't keep him away from her.” I figured making them mad would keep their adrenaline up nicely, make them more alert.

The driver blurted, “She gave them the slip.” His colleague's coffee slopped as she reached over to touch his arm. A gentle way of saying, shut up you fool.

If I'd had coffee, I would have slopped it too. “
She
gave them the slip? No way she would have wanted to elude her police protection. I don't believe it.”

The woman officer spoke as she mopped up her coffee. “Believe what you want. If you want news updates, turn on your radio. That's not our job.” She reached over and the window slid up.

I stomped back to the condo, trying to imagine why Rina Benning would flee from safety straight into the arms of death.

Mrs. Parnell was the only person in the motley crew guarding Lindsay who made any sense. I had to admire her. But even so, by eight-thirty that evening I was tired of her company. There's a limited amount of time you want to spend in someone else's kitchen while your neighbour expounds on her hobby, the allied leaders of World War II.

On the other hand, Churchill and Rommel were fascinating compared to Alvin and Merv, still fawning over Lindsay in the living room. I did my damnedest to tune out their voices. At least I didn't have to listen to their stomachs growl as the traditional meal hour came and went. I'd already checked Lindsay's cupboards, fridge and freezer. Except for the quality coffee, they were enough to give empty a good name. Unless you counted the two slices of bread still left in the bag and the pat of butter on a pretty plate on the dairy shelf. Under the circumstances, take-out seemed ill advised. It seemed wiser to get some food into the house, to keep up Lindsay's strength.

I felt a moment's twinge about having gotten my sisters in such a snit. Otherwise I might have been able to call one of them to bring over provisions without revealing why. Oh well. Mrs. Parnell never appeared to eat anyway. I resigned myself to a gurgling stomach until the morning arrived or Benning was captured. Perhaps we could arrange for the next shift of cops to bring us some doughnuts.

In the meantime, Mrs. Parnell and I sat in the kitchen and busied ourselves trying to find out more about Rina Benning. With the portable TV relocated and a pair of radios set to different stations, we had been able to determine a body had indeed been found, apparently bludgeoned. Despite the early blurting of her name, we had no official confirmation. The police and the Coroner have procedures.