I met her eyes. “I know.”
Officer Ciarniello popped her head around the door. “Inspector Kequahtooway will be waiting.”
“We can’t have that.” The cheekiness was vintage Jill, but the delivery was flat.
Kevin Hynd was still at his post by the door to the ladies’ room. As we came out, he slid his arm through Jill’s. “Don’t volunteer anything,” he said, then led us towards the elevator.
Alex was sitting on small couch just inside the room where the wedding and reception had been held. He was talking to a petite, curvy blonde named Pam Levine. She was an associate producer on “Canada Tonight,” and when we’d run into one another Christmas shopping, she’d announced that the bodysuit she was wearing to Jill’s wedding would shoot her straight to the top of Santa’s list of Bad Little Girls. Nobody would have disputed Pam’s claim that her lipstick-red outfit was a sizzler, but as she answered Alex’s questions, she didn’t look naughty, she looked terrified.
Kevin led us to a table well away from the windows that faced the maze where Evan had been killed. With his Captain Trip insouciance and grizzled masculinity, Kevin did not, at first, seem like one of nature’s gentlemen, but he was courtly as he pulled out chairs for Jill, Officer Ciarniello, and me. Jill and I sank into ours, but Officer Ciarniello remained standing. When Alex came over, he dismissed her, and she left, struggling under the weight of Jill’s gown in the evidence bag.
Alex sat down and Kevin took the chair opposite him. “Is there a reason that you’re staying?” Alex asked.
“I’m Ms. Osiowy’s lawyer,” Kevin said.
Alex’s eyes widened. “And you cook too,” he said.
“What a long strange trip it’s been,” Kevin said pleasantly. He gave Alex his full name, then said, “I’ve instructed my client not to volunteer any information.”
“Fair enough,” Alex said. “I’ll just ask my questions.”
As he shifted in his chair to face Jill, Alex’s body language and tone changed. I was hyper-alert, anxious to know how he would treat her. Alex had come to know Jill through me. He didn’t trust the media. As an aboriginal cop who had come off his reserve to work in the system, Alex was wary of the institutions that govern our lives and of the people who run them, but he had grown genuinely fond of Jill.
“What happened here tonight?” he asked.
Jill chewed the nail polish on her thumbnail. “I wish I knew,” she said.
“Just tell me what you can,” Alex said, and his voice was soft with empathy.
Jill was a savvy journalist, and under normal circumstances, she would have seen through the warm reassurances that are standard issue for officers playing the Good Cop role. These were not normal circumstances, and when Jill exhaled and smiled gratefully at Alex, I knew she was seriously off her game. I shot a glance at Kevin Hynd.
“I’m on it,” he muttered. He leaned close to his new client. “Jill, the less you say, the better.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” she replied.
“Then tell me everything you know,” Alex said. There was urgency in his voice. He was pressing her because he knew the window of opportunity opened by her vulnerability could slam shut at any time. “How did you come to be out there by the snow maze, Jill?”
“I was looking for…” She caught herself. “I was looking for someone.”
The cords in Alex’s neck tensed. “Who?”
“Just a guest I hadn’t spoken to. An old friend from the network. Someone told me she’d gone outside for a smoke, so I decided to join her.”
Alex put down his pen and stared at Jill. “You left your own wedding reception to step outside for a smoke in the middle of a blizzard?”
Jill was cool. “I hadn’t had a cigarette in three hours, and it had been a stressful day.” She raised her hand to deflect a hasty interpretation. “Not because anything was wrong – just because there’s stress in every wedding.”
“All right, so you’re out in front of the gallery, lighting up with your friend…”
“No,” Jill cut him off. “She wasn’t there. I’d missed her. I decided that since I was already outside, I’d have a cigarette.”
“In the blizzard,” Alex said. This time he made no attempt to disguise his scepticism.
“There’s a portico out front that offers some shelter,” Jill said. “Besides, by that time the wind had died down.”
“And the weather had become so pleasant you decided to stroll over to the maze.”
“Inspector, if you keep jerking Jill around, we’re out of here.” Kevin Hynd removed a rose from the centrepiece and handed it to his client with a flourish. “We’re solid,” he said.
It was a gallant gesture, and Jill rewarded him with a smile. “Thanks,” she said. “For the flower and for the reminder that the inspector is no longer a friend.”
Alex winced. He was a good officer, but he was also a man sensitive to rejection, and for a moment, I felt my heart go out to him. The feeling didn’t last. If lines were being drawn, I was on Jill’s side.
Jill twirled the rose between her thumb and index finger. “Here’s what happened,” she said. “Take it, or leave it. I was standing in the portico smoking when I heard a cry – not a cry exactly, but obviously the sound of someone in trouble. It was coming from the direction of the maze, so I went over.” Jill’s eyes lost their focus. She was back at the scene. I’d had my own doubts about Jill’s story to this point, but suddenly her words had the ring of truth.
Alex seemed to believe her too. “You were wearing a wedding gown,” he said. “Why didn’t you just go inside and get somebody to call 911?”
Jill’s eyes flashed. “Damn it, Alex, you know me. You know that if I heard someone in agony, my first thought wouldn’t be what I was wearing or how I could offload the problem onto someone else. Why can’t you get your head around the fact that I did what any decent human being would do?”
Alex didn’t raise his eyes from his notepad. “All right,” he said. “You heard a cry and you responded. What happened next?”
“When I was about halfway to the maze, the sounds stopped,” Jill said. “I kept going until I came to the entrance. I went in. That’s when I found Evan. The walls were blocking the light, so I couldn’t see him until it was too late. He was just inside.” She bit her lip. “I fell right on top of him. For a few seconds I just lay there. I was stunned. Finally, I put my hand against his throat to see if he had a pulse. That’s when I touched the ulu – it was stuck here.” Jill placed her fingers against her own carotid artery. “I knew enough not to take it out. That’s how people bleed to death.” Her eyes were vacant. It was clear she was teetering on the brink of shock, and Kevin tapped her hand with his own, bringing her back.
Jill exchanged glances with him, then she continued. “I put my ear against Evan’s mouth to hear if he was breathing. He didn’t seem to be. I ran back to the gallery. There was a commissionaire just inside. He phoned the police. Then I went to look for…,” she hesitated, and in that moment, I knew that whatever came next would be a lie. “There was a medical doctor at the reception,” Jill said. “I went to see if I could find her.”
“So you went back upstairs to the party,” Alex said.
“Yes,” Jill said. “And from that point on, there are a hundred people who can tell you what I did.”
“We’ll be talking to every one of them,” Alex said dryly.
Jill turned to Kevin Hynd. “Can we go now?”
Kevin leaned back in his chair. “Inspector?”
Alex didn’t look up. “Tell your client to stay in town. I want her available.”
Jill stood up abruptly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Alex.”
“I still need someone to identify Gabriel Leventhal’s body,” Alex said.
Jill’s voice was icy, “And you expect me to do it.”
“I’m not a monster,” Alex said. “I was hoping you could suggest someone.”
“Felix Schiff took over as best man when Gabe didn’t show up,” I said. “He’s known Gabe for years.”
Alex shrugged. “Point him out, and you can be on your way.”
“He’s not here,” Jill said.
“Where is he?” Alex said.
Jill looked away. “Back at the hotel, I guess.”
