The Icing on the Corpse (9 page)

E
laine screamed. When she stopped screaming, she said, “No, I refuse to believe it.”

“Please.” I put a soothing hand on her shoulder. “We don't all have to get hysterical.” She jumped away.

It had taken the better part of an hour to get the paramedics out of the house, to make sure Lindsay was safe and sleeping and to get the rest of the circus downstairs where it belonged. Mombourquette stayed, but you can't have everything.

And Elaine, of all the unlikely people, kept screaming. “Easy for you, Camilla, you didn't even work on it. Holy moly. It's not possible. It couldn't happen.”

“Well, it did.”

“Listen, I was there,” she said. “I worked on that sculpture. There's no way Benning's body could have been in it. Ice is translucent, you couldn't fail to notice a dead body. It was a stunning figure of Justice, by the way, for those of you who were too wimpy to make it to the volunteer team because of inclement weather.”

I put out my hand to steady Alvin. “Let it go, Elaine. You know exactly where we were.”

“Wicked,” Alvin said. “I sure would have liked to have seen that body. Is it still there?”

“Alvin.” I tried to inject a fearsome warning note into my voice. As much as I'd hated and feared Benning, I didn't feel comfortable with his body as a spectacle.

Merv liked the idea too. “Frozen solid, serves the bastard right.”

“What is wrong with you people? I was
there!
I saw the block of ice. With absolutely no dead body in it. Nothing but ice, ice, ice. Ice all the way. You can see through ice, you know.” Elaine banged on the kitchen table.

“There's a body in it now.” Since there were people in the room who didn't hate Mombourquette, he'd have to keep being himself until they did. Wouldn't take long.

“But there wasn't last night.” Elaine had trouble with the central idea of the body in the sculpture.

“Nevertheless, transport would have been the issue,” Mrs. Parnell said. She jammed another Benson and Hedges into her ebony holder and flicked her silver lighter.

“Transport? Do you think we would have transported him?” Elaine gripped the side of the table and shrieked.

“Takes a certain amount of strength to lift a man, unconscious or dead, never mind encased in ice. Of course, a dolly could make it possible, even for a woman.” Mrs. Parnell let out a two-foot curl of smoke that tickled my nostrils. “Could do it myself on a good day.”

Elaine issued a strangled sound. “Unconscious? No, not unconscious. Oh, God. No, that's too awful.”

I gave Mrs. Parnell a look she shouldn't have recovered from. Not that she noticed. “I'm sure he was already dead,” I said.

“Oh, wow,” Alvin said. “He would have died from exposure. He had that coming.”

“Shut up,” I said.

Elaine started to hyperventilate.

“Sit down and put your head between your knees,” I said. “And listen to me. He would not have died of exposure.” I don't know why I felt such utter certainty. The pathologist probably hadn't even laid his latex pinky on Benning yet.

“Consider this,” Mrs. Parnell said. “If he were unconscious, that would make it murder.”

“But.” Elaine paused for breath between each word. “It's. Not. Possible. Not in our ice sculpture. It must have been some other one.”

“Trust me, it was your sculpture. There's no doubt about that,” McCracken said. “We won't know what happened to him for a while yet. It takes time for the results of the PM to come back. Then we'll see.”

“PM. That's a Post Mortem,” Mrs. Parnell said with an air of authority. “You can learn a lot from those things.”

“I think I'm going to be sick,” Elaine said.

“You are going to be fine.” I turned so my back blocked Mrs. Parnell from Elaine's view. “This is a ghastly end to a terrible series of events. Unfortunately, it ended in murder, however…”

“However, it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.”

“Alvin! This is no laughing matter.”

“Look, Elaine, don't pay any attention to them.” Deep down, I agreed with Alvin, but that was not my official stand on potential murder victims, no matter how deserving of retribution they were.

“Don't get me wrong,” Elaine said, “I'm not sorry he's dead either. It's the politics of it. People will think we did it.”

I jumped in before Mrs. Parnell and Alvin could volley another series of inappropriate remarks. “No one would ever suspect Women Against Violence Everywhere of murder.”

As the words left my tongue, I wanted to bite them back. I could think of no other group in town who would have more reason to want to put Benning on ice. But my platitudes drew quite a reaction from Elaine. “The hell they wouldn't.
Everyone
will think WAVE did it. They'll say we conspired as a board of directors. This is not a tragedy. This is a bloody public relations disaster!”

“Not necessarily,” Mrs. Parnell said. “Could be seen as a wake-up call in certain quarters.”

“Frigging right,” Alvin said. “The time has come for domestic batterers to chill out.”

Usually, I was the most insensitive and outrageous person in any given room. That day, I ran well back in the pack.

“Yes,” Elaine said. “Of course we'll deny it, but who'll believe us?”

“Plenty of people will be under scrutiny, not the least of which will be Ottawa's finest.” I gestured to Mombourquette.

McCracken shrugged. Mombourquette grinned, although the grin slipped as Mrs. Parnell shot a stream of smoke into his face.

“Well,” McCracken said, “while we're here, why don't we have a little talk with Ms. Ekstein?”

Okay, I felt sorry for Elaine. But she had stamina. And anyway, I knew she had nothing to do with Benning's death. I could imagine circumstances under which she might have killed him, but she would never let it reflect badly on WAVE. But I had other things on my mind. Someone else to worry about.

I was glad the crowd in the kitchen was so distracted. I had to think. Who needed to kill Benning? Not out of philosophical distaste or moral outrage, but from the standpoint of staying alive. It was too late for Benning's wife.

The only other person with as much to lose was upstairs, sleeping. Being gazed on with adoration by Merv, hard-edged RCMP officer and all-round cynical guy. Lindsay. Lindsay, who could now rest, her long nightmare with Benning over. Lindsay, who had fallen asleep before any of us. Lindsay, who had succumbed to Benning's psychotic brand of charm. Lindsay, who could have been lured into meeting him the night before.

Lindsay Grace had needed Benning dead.

“Give Elaine a break,” I said to McCracken.

“No, you give me a break. I can't believe you would stick your nose in another murder investigation days before your sister's wedding. Even for you, Camilla, this is inconsiderate.”

Inconsiderate? He hadn't seen anything yet. And what the hell did the wedding have to do with it?

“Look. We don't need to be on opposite sides. After all, we both want the guilty person locked up for this. Anyway, the wedding's two weeks away.”

He flashed me one of his looks.

“Well, nearly,” I said. “Whoever killed Benning would have a strong defence.”

“Murder's still murder in my book.”

“That's sweet and old-fashioned, McCracken. But the fact is it could turn out to be one of your own.”

“It won't be a cop.”

“I love it when you get all steely-eyed. No wonder Alexa wants to marry you.”

“Stop playing games, Camilla. Stay away from this one. I'm serious.”

“Oh, so am I. Everyone knows Benning had a contact on the inside. Someone who would want him out of the way now that the heat is on. Means, motivation and opportunity. Who better than the cops? And, you may want to remember the last time the police tried to railroad an innocent woman, I was on the job.”

“I remember you came close to death.”

“Well, that's the downside. But with Benning on ice, what can I say? I feel lucky.”

Elaine was not so lucky. Or maybe she was luckier. It depends on how you react to getting trotted to the cop shop and grilled. It would bother some people. Elaine wasn't one of them.

That Elaine. She was known for turning every cloud into a chunk of gold bullion. Her enthusiasm, as they say, knew no bounds. She made you want to hibernate from sheer exhaustion after five minutes in her presence.

WAVE was her life and, unlike me, she didn't have a ton of personal baggage dragging her down. She loved to make a difference. I figured she would make a real difference to the officers who drew the short straw and had to question her about Ralph Benning's death. Good cop. Bad cop. Elaine would reduce them to crazy cop in a few short minutes.

Even so, I wanted to get over to the Elgin Street station as soon as I could. In order to avoid a laugh riot among the people I know on the force, I left Mrs. Parnell's beaver coat behind and borrowed a parka from Lindsay from her extensive winter outerwear collection. With the sleeves rolled up, it did the trick. I stuffed my red hat in the pocket.

Lindsay leaned wanly against the door as I headed out. Merv and Alvin buzzed around her like deranged deerflies. She didn't seem to notice them. “Keep the jacket as long as you want, Camilla. I feel responsible for what happened.”

By the time I showed up, Elaine had the cops on the ropes. I ran into McCracken in the hallway outside the interview room at police headquarters on Elgin Street. He was about to exceed the recommended dosage of Tylenol Extra Strength.

“That's what you get for trying to play in the big leagues,” I whispered.

Four tablets spilled from his hand and danced across the grey tile floor. “We're doing our job. And you know it. Why not help instead of making things worse?”

“Try to help the police question clients? Oh yes. It's all flooding back to me. That's the defence lawyer's official motto, isn't it? Learned it in law school.”

“Funny. But you're not Ms. Ekstein's defence lawyer.” He quivered a bit when the word “Ekstein” crossed his lips.

“News flash, McCracken.”

Even Mombourquette appeared subdued. Excellent. Maybe he'd need stress leave. Elaine, on the other hand, had never looked better. Her eyes shone with the light of battle, her chin glowed.

“This is an outrage. I need to speak to my client alone.” I prepared to fight.

Mombourquette's ratty face brightened. “Take your time,” he said, scooting out of the interrogation room.

“Don't get your tail caught in the door,” I said.

As soon as it slammed shut, I turned to my alleged client. “You're enjoying this.”

“Well, it is an opportunity. Think of the profile for WAVE. You know, Camilla, at first I thought we had a disaster but on sober second thought, I realize this will give us some major media coverage.”

“Forget that, Elaine.”

“So it's a positve story. Which reminds me, why are you here? I thought you'd be out fielding interviews.”

“I'm your lawyer.”