other end of the line. “This isn’t a good time,” I said. “Can I call you back?”
“Actually, I was hoping we could get together this morning.”
“If it will help Jill, of course,” I said.
“Would it be possible for you to come down here?” Kevin asked. “I’m working on something.”
“Another case?”
He laughed. “Pigs,” he said. “Six dozen marzipan pigs.”
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to make those.”
“Today’s your lucky day. The marzipan’s wrapped and ready. I was planning to start cranking out porkers mid-morning.”
“I’ll be there around ten,” I said. Kevin hung up, but I stayed on the line until I heard a second click. I wasn’t imagining things. Someone had indeed been listening in.
Taylor was at the kitchen table in her pyjamas when I came down. She had a fork in one hand, a knife in the other. “Pancake day,” she said happily.
“So it is,” I said. “I’d better get cracking.”
I made the batter, then Taylor came over and, with great precision, poured her initials onto the griddle. She was doing the final stroke on the K when Angus swooped in. “Make way for a hungry man,” he said. “I skied along the entire creek, and now I’m up for some quality time with my new drum kit. But first, I need F-O-O-D!”
Angus was pouring syrup on his stack of pancakes when Bryn and Jill came downstairs. Bryn immediately drifted towards my son. With her alabaster skin, her dark hair falling loose to her shoulders, and her chocolate- brown leather pants and matching turtleneck, she had the casual chic of a model in a Ralph Lauren ad. She glanced at my son’s plate. “Do you do this all the time?” she asked.
“Every Saturday,” Angus said.
“Lucky,” she said. Her tone was wistful, not mocking, and the pang I felt was as sharp as the one that I’d felt when Evan had confided that his mother called him “the snowman” because he was unable to love.
After breakfast I called the home number of Dan Kasperski, the best and only psychiatrist I knew. If I’d needed further proof of his excellence, the fact that he didn’t make me grovel before he agreed to see Tracy that morning at 9:30 would have been plenty. I hung up and poured myself a second cup of coffee. I was going to need the extra caffeine; it was only eight o’clock, but my dance card was filling fast.
Angus volunteered to take Taylor to her art class, but when Bryn suggested she go with him, Jill cut in. “Why don’t you come with me, Bryn?” she said. “I’m going over to NationTV and I want to show you off.” When Bryn left to pick up her jacket, Jill and my son exchanged glances that said more potently than words that she understood exactly how he felt about her stepdaughter. Despite her own troubles, Jill had extricated Angus from a tight spot. She was a good human being, and as I left to pick up Claudia and Tracy,
I was determined that, this time out, virtue would not have to be its own reward.
Given the proliferation of trees in our house, it seemed impossible that I could have forgotten it was Christmas, but when I walked into the lobby of the Hotel Saskatchewan that morning, the combination of muted carols and pungent evergreen was a jolt. The Big Day was only two sleeps away. I’d come early, hoping to talk to Felix Schiff before I hooked up with the weird sisters-in-law. I was standing at the reception desk asking the clerk to ring Felix’s room, when the man himself walked in the front door. He was dressed trendily with an expensive backpack and an outfit that conjured up images of sunshine, oxygen, and a day on the slopes, but Felix’s pallor and bloodshot eyes suggested that even navigating his way to the coffee shop was going to be a stretch. Not to put too fine a point on it, he looked like hell. When he spotted me and came over to shake my hand, I could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Are you okay?” I said. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”
“I’ve been checking out your city’s club scene,” he said. “Not cutting edge but, given my impaired memory of it, not without appeal.”
“You found the possibilities of Regina after dark so seductive that you couldn’t wait until the reception was over?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t that.”
“Watching Jill marry Evan wasn’t easy for me either,” I said.
“You had your family. I needed to be with someone too.”
“But with strangers? Felix, that was…”
“I know. It was stupid and self-indulgent.” He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it appealingly. “If it’s any consolation, I’m suffering. Can you forgive me?”
His expression was painfully earnest, and I felt myself warm to him. “Hey, I have to forgive you,” I said. “Reliable ‘go-to’ guys are in short supply.”
Felix’s mouth curled in the smallest of smiles. “That is my role, isn’t it? The dependable one – the one everyone counts on.”
“There are worse roles,” I said.
“And better ones,” he replied, “but like the knights in medieval romances, we must take the adventures God sends us.” He straightened his shoulders. “Speaking of, it’s time for me to behave in a courtly manner and wish Jill and Evan well before they go on their honeymoon.”
I looked at him hard. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
I put my hand under Felix’s elbow and guided him across the lobby to the gift shop. There were stacks of newspapers just inside the door. I picked one up. The photo of Evan that dominated the front page was a good one. He was leaning toward the photographer, his face animated, one hand raised as if he were explaining something. The type announcing his murder was seventy-six point, the size reserved for the tragedies of princes, prime ministers, and pubescent heartthrobs. Felix’s hands were shaking so violently, he could barely hold the paper, but he read the story through to the end.
“I have to make a phone call,” he said.
“To Jill? She’s staying with me, but she was planning to go over to NationTV to see whether they’re sitting on any information that hasn’t been made public.”
For a beat he stared at me without comprehension. When he emerged from the thicket of confusion, he was stunned but functioning. “I can help at NationTV,” he said. “I still have connections there.”
“Good, because Jill’s going to need all the help she can get.”
Felix zipped his jacket and pulled on his winter gloves. When he touched his hand to his forehead in a little salute, I felt a welcome rush of reassurance.
They say that timing is everything. That morning the timing of Evan MacLeish’s small coterie of mourners was abysmal. Thirty seconds more and Jill’s knight errant would have been out of the building. As it was, Felix was crossing the lobby just as Claudia and Tracy stepped out of the elevator. Given her temperament, I would have put my money on Tracy as the one to strike, but Claudia was the viper.
When she spotted Felix, she strode over and stepped in front of him. “Satisfied?” she said. “The path’s clear now. You’d better stock up on vitamins, lederhosen-boy. You’re going to be busy.”
Felix reacted quickly. “Keep your mouth shut.” He grabbed her shoulders and pushed with such force that she lost her footing. Circled by bystanders whose faces registered both shock and delight, Claudia went down like the proverbial bag of hammers. Felix didn’t hang around to witness her humiliation. He was already at the front doors. The young man in livery didn’t miss a beat. He held the door for Felix and touched his hat. “Have a good day, sir,” he said, but he didn’t wait for a tip.
I helped Claudia to her feet. “What was that all about?” I asked.
“Family honour,” she said. Her tone was sardonic, but she was pale, and she seemed a bit dazed.
“Why don’t I drive you to Dan’s office,” I said.
Claudia laughed shortly. “Tracy and I don’t seem to be managing very well on our own,” she said.
I led the two women down a short flight of stairs to a side door. It meant walking an extra block to the car, but I didn’t want to risk a rematch between Felix and Claudia. Before we hit the street, Tracy donned a pair of Jackie O sunglasses.
“I don’t know why you bother with those,” Claudia said peevishly. “Nobody recognizes you without your tutu and your orange sneakers.”
Dan Kasperski’s office was in a converted garage at the back of his house in central Regina. A large
