CHAPTER
14
The martini we had at the lounge in Calgary Airport wouldn’t have made anyone’s top-ten list, but it did the trick. My shoulders began to unknot and the signs of strain disappeared from Glenda’s face. Zack was sanguine by nature, but Sam’s funeral had hit him hard and the martini seemed to help. We were headed for the pre-boarding area when I spotted Brette Sinclair across the concourse at the ticket counter.
I touched Zack’s shoulder. “Somebody I want to talk to over there,” I said. “I’ll catch up with you.”
Brette was in line behind a man with a cat cage and a woman with three children under the age of three. She was tapping her foot and looking ticked off. She beamed when she saw me. “Boy, that was a trip, wasn’t it? That church scared the be-jasus out of me. Did you check out the Topics for Discussion at the Family Life Centre? Curing Homosexuality Through Prayer, A Woman’s Place, Culture-proofing your Kids. Can you believe it?”
“Well, when you’re writing your article, don’t blame Calgary. Blame Beverly – that church she’s connected to is a little weird.”
“More than a little,” Brette said. “And why would I blame Calgary? I was here once for Stampede and I had me a cowboy.”
“Was having a cowboy on your life list?”
“No, but he should have been.”
“Anyway, why would I blame Calgary? It’s a great city. You westerners are so tetchy.”
“With cause,” I said. “So are you headed back to Toronto?”
Brette frowned. “No such luck. I’m standing here to exchange my ticket to Toronto for one to Regina.”
“What’s in Regina?”
“Now who’s denigrating the west?” She frowned. “I thought you would have heard. The police arrested Howard Dowhanuik. They’re charging him with the murder of Kathryn Morrissey.”
“Oh no,” I groaned.
“Oh yes,” Brette said. The man with the cat left with his ticket in one hand, his cat cage in the other, and a smile on his face. Brette watched him bounce across the concourse. “Looks like it might be my lucky day. Now if they can handle Mother Courage that quickly, I’ll be set.”
“Tell me what you know.”
“Well, let’s see. The police found a partial print from a bloody shoe in the alley and a remnant of burned rubber in the contents of Howard Dowhanuik’s vacuum cleaner. They’ve got their man, and my old room at Hojo’s is waiting for me. I can’t believe NationTV hasn’t been in touch with you.”
“I had my cell turned off during the funeral,” I said. I took the phone out of my bag and turned it on. There was a text message from Jill: “What goes on?”
“I should call in,” I said.
“Be my guest,” Brette said. “It’s not as if I’m going anywhere.”
When I passed on the news of Howard’s arrest, Jill was livid. She had begun her career as a press officer in Howard’s government and she retained a lingering affection for him. “I don’t believe this for a moment. What’s the matter with those cops? Howard has had his troubles, but he’s not a murderer. Jo, find out what’s going on. Howard was always kind to me. Said it was about time there were more smart broads in government.”
“Ever enlightened,” I said. “I’m in the Calgary airport right now, but Zack knows Howard’s lawyer. I’ll see what I can find out.”
I hung up and checked my watch. “I’ve got to go, Brette,” I said. “I hope I’ll see you on the plane.”
Brette stared morosely at the woman with the three little children. “If I make it, you know who I’ll be sitting beside.”
When I told Zack about Howard, he immediately called Margot Wright. It was a brief call, but he picked up the essentials and relayed them to me. The police had arrested Howard at 1:00 p.m. Regina time. Howard was handling himself well – not giving anything up except his name and address. Margot had implored him to tell her the whole story. He insisted he had, but she didn’t believe him.
“So where is Howard now?” I said.
“In the cells at the cop shop,” Zack said. “Margot managed to get a bail hearing tomorrow, but Howard will be there overnight.”
“Can I see him?”
“Nope. Just his lawyer. And, Jo, you don’t want to see that place. The drunk tank is just down the hall from the cells, so the smells and sounds are pretty much what you’d expect in the seventh circle of hell.”
“It might be a useful experience for Howard,” I said. “Still, there must be something I can do.”
“Actually, there is,” Zack said. “Margot wondered if you could find out Charlie’s shoe size.”
Glenda had been listening impassively, but the reference to shoes caught her attention. “Why would they be interested in that?”
“Evidence,” Zack said. “Somebody somewhere is trying to put the pieces together.”
Glenda frowned, looked down at her own fashionable pumps, and retreated into silence.
When I got back to my house, Charlie was there. He and Taylor were watching
“No need to move,” I said.
