Deadly Fall (34 page)

A brief article had announced the popular weekly columnist's suicide. A friend was quoted as saying Felix had been depressed by another unnamed friend's death. Thursday's Community section would feature a one-page spread of his best columns.

With a napkin, she brushed muffin crumbs from her mouth. “I'm not convinced Felix's death was suicide. You said Dimitri's probably innocent. If you aren't convinced, you're in a position to push the cops to dig deeper.”

Kenneth's hand slid down Mandy's head. The dog's eyes closed in delight. “I was in rough shape after Callie left me,” he said. “That's why I understand a man killing a woman who rejects him and turning the gun on himself. If Felix held onto this obsession for thirty years, the only surprise is that it didn't explode sooner.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do.” He scratched the dog's back hard. “Much as I'd rather they hang the kid for it.”

While driving from
Kenneth's house, it struck her that he hadn't asked her what Felix had revealed to her about his column. Did he assume Felix didn't discuss his columns in progress with anyone or not care what the column was about, or had he learned from Sam that Felix had told them nothing? Their little group seemed to operate an effective grapevine. She got to the office at ten o'clock. Alice's reception desk was empty. The smell of tobacco flowed through Nils's open doorway. A woman sat in his visitor's chair, her long blond hair draped over the back. Nils rose to greet Paula as she walked in. The woman turned around.

Paula halted, stunned. “What are you doing here?”

Isabelle tucked hair behind her ear dotted with one of Paula's pearl earrings. She wore Paula's navy suit. “I told you I had a job interview.”

“You didn't say it was in my office.”

“You didn't ask.”

“You, you . . .” She turned to Nils for an explanation.

He pointed his pipe at Isabelle. “When I phoned your house yesterday, Isabelle here happened to mention she was looking for a job. We're looking for an employee.”

Paula glared down at Isabelle, who was chewing a fingernail painted with Paula's pearl polish. “You purposely kept this from me because you knew I wouldn't like it.”

Isabelle's wide blue eyes flashed innocence. “Don't you want me to find work so I can pay you and Erin rent? This job pays better than the other crap-jobs I've had.”

Nils motioned his pipe toward the visitor's chair. “Sit down, Paula, and we'll discuss the plan.”

“Where's Alice? Don't tell me Isabelle's her replacement. We'll never get our telephone messages.”

“Alice called in sick,” Nils said. “That's just what we need with you off gallivanting around. We need somebody steady in here.”

“I've been dealing with a couple of dead friends.”

“I sympathize with your loss.” Nils looked sympathetic. “Both losses; Isabelle's been telling me about the one yesterday. But this has been one hell of week for me, taking care of the whole shop. We need to stop dithering about whom to hire for this junior position.”

“You're the one who's been dithering.”

A two-foot pile of claim folders sat on his desk. He must be desperate to be considering someone so unsuitable for the work. For starters, Isabelle had no insurance experience or even office experience.

Isabelle swiveled her chair toward Paula. “Your boss's computer reminded me of Felix's laptop. Do you remember seeing it when we found him dead yesterday?”

Paula blinked at the non sequitur. “Where did he usually keep the laptop?”

“He always put it away in the downstairs desk drawer when he wasn't using it. That's why I didn't notice if it was missing or not.”

Paula glanced at Nils. “We can discuss this later.”

Nils circled the air with his pipe. “Go ahead. Life and death is more important than work.”

Coming from him, this was crazier than hiring Isabelle.

“I saw them take out Felix's big computer,” Isabelle said. “All the time I lived there, I never saw him go upstairs to use it. He probably wrote his newspaper stuff on the laptop.”

“If it was gone, someone stole it.” The laptop might be in the shop or anywhere. “I need to call Detective Vincelli about this.”

Nils set his pipe beside the stack of claim files. “While you're doing that, I'll discuss details with Isabelle. I give her points, Paula, for concealing this job interview from you. Reading people is key to our work. A certain amount of deviousness also helps. As far as I'm concerned, Isabelle's in. She can start as a trainee, fill in for Alice, and help with some clerical tasks. I'll leave the decision to you.”

In her office, Paula left a message for Vincelli. She tried to concentrate on claim files, her thoughts flitting from Felix's missing laptop to this morning's visit with Kenneth to the pros and cons of hiring Isabelle. The main pros were the rent money and the fact it would satisfy both Isabelle and Nils. If she vetoed his choice, it could be months before he agreed to another candidate and she would be saddled with the extra work. The main con was that training and dealing with Isabelle would probably be more hindrance than help. If and when Isabelle got too frustrated with the job, she would probably quit. If, by some miracle, she grasped the work and stuck with it and Paula couldn't stand it, well, that might provide the impetus she needed to leave this place for something better.

In the midst of her mulling, Gary phoned. She had forgotten all about his return from the cruise yesterday. That must be progress, not thinking about your ex-spouse for a week. The trip had gone well, he said, not elaborating further, and now he was swamped with post-vacation work. Equally swamped, she suggested they meet Friday for lunch.

“Sounds great.” Gary chuckled. “Unless you're too busy having lunch with some gangster. The girls tell me you've become a moll.”

“My moll career was short-lived.”

“Too bad. It sounded intriguing and not at all like you.”

“Thanks.”

Paula hung up and opened the file for her claimant who fell off the roof. The medical report had come in. His broken arm and ribs were coming along as expected; his doctor confirmed no physical damage from the concussion and was referring him to a neurologist to evaluate his complaints about mental fuzziness.

She scanned the initial report from the insurer. The homeowner had no history of claims, but his injured neighbor might have tried putting one over another insurance firm. She made a note to ask him for his insurance agent's name when she went to his street to poll more neighbors about the fall. The phone rang.

“I assume you're wondering about the autopsy,” Vincelli said. “It came in and is what we expected. Consistent with suicide.”

“Consistent?”

“That's sufficient to rule on suicide, with the supporting evidence.”

“I was actually calling about Felix's laptop. Did your people find one in his house?”

“Isabelle phoned about that ten minutes ago. I checked. None was taken.”

“She definitely saw Felix use one.”

“It would have been better if she had brought this up at the station. It makes you question her memory.”

That didn't seem fair. “Felix told me he worked freelance, so no colleagues can confirm his work habits, but his friends might know if he wrote his columns on the laptop or desktop.”

“We're looking into it.”

“Kenneth Unsworth said Felix visited him Friday night.”

“Kenneth told us.”

“Did Felix visit other friends?”

“We're talking with all of his friends and acquaintances. He had a lot of them.” Vincelli sounded tired. “If there was a laptop, or if there were other visits, we'll dig them out.”

“When I was at Kenneth's this morning, something struck me as interesting.”

He waited.

“On all my earlier visits, he barricaded the dog in the kitchen. Today, she was with us in the living room. He kept bending over to pat her and I wondered if he wanted her there so I couldn't see his face when he answered certain questions.”

“When we talked to him yesterday, the dog was gated.”

“Kenneth seems so willing to accept Felix as Callie's killer. You'd think he would seize every opportunity to get you guys to target Dimitri, his rival.”

“I'll make a note of your canine concern.”

Was he trying to be funny?

“Is that all?” he said. “We're busy here.”

“Isabelle wants to stop by Felix's house to pick up her belongings.”

“She also brought that up. Apparently, she didn't turn in her key to his place.”

“Apparently, you have to ask her for everything.”

“Felix's sister is fine about Isabelle going in. I trust you'll be with her.”

“Is his sister staying in the house?”

“She and the rest of the family prefer to stay with friends in town. I advised her to have his house re-keyed as soon as possible. Isabelle's key should work, if you go tonight.”

“I know it sounds trivial,” Paula said, “but I hope you'll question Kenneth about his keeping the dog in the room.”

“I'll phone you with any significant developments.”

Nils appeared in her office doorway. “What's the decision?”

She studied her homey office. Rubber trees in the corners, mountain and prairie paintings on the walls, travel knickknacks and family pictures on the bookshelves. This had been her place for eight years. She liked her friendship with Alice and the respect she had earned from Nils, who was a father figure, of sorts, filling in for her dad who had died only four years before she started this job. Like her dad, Nils didn't cut colleagues slack when they failed to come through. If it came down to Isabelle and the welfare of his insurance firm, Isabelle would be out.

Paula clasped her hands on the desk. “Here's the deal: You hire her and you train her. I stay out of it and do my work.”

“Terrific. I'll be caught up by the end of the week. She can start next Monday.” Nils saluted her with his pipe. “This will be fun. It's been a long time since I've had a protégé who's green enough to mould.”

“Don't count on it.”

Paula rushed through the rest of her claims and squeezed in an afternoon workout with Anne to get her take on Felix's death. After their standard commiserations on the treadmill, Anne said Felix hadn't visited her Friday night. She didn't know if he had a laptop or not, but wouldn't be surprised if he did. “Like most guys, he was into electronic gadgets.” Anne confirmed his youthful infatuation for Callie. “It started when he was at university. I didn't realize he'd carried it forward to the present.” She echoed Sam's words on the subject. “You never know a person, do you?”

Anne and Sam had the same vested interest in protecting Dimitri.

“I guess the heat's off him now,” Paula said.

Anne smiled. “I can't deny I'm glad about that.”

Hayden looked up
from his office desk. “I must say, I'm surprised. I thought we'd broken up. Did I miss something?” His eyes managed a self-effacing twinkle of amusement, while he nervously twiddled his thumbs.

“I thought we left it ambiguous.” She slumped into the visitors' chair.

“Is that our problem?” he said. “Lack of communication?”

“I'm sure our problem is me.” Why was she here? Because he was all she had left. “It feels like a conspiracy,” she said. “Sam, Kenneth, Anne, everyone wants the investigation to end with Felix as Callie's killer who then killed himself. Even the cops are in on it. They're short-staffed and overworked. I suspect they're tired of the investigation and figure this is as good a way as any to bring it to a close.”

“I doubt they'd let it go if they had evidence pointing in another direction.”

“How can they get the evidence, if they don't look for it?”

He rocked back and forward on his chair. “You know, it occurred to me you might be clinging to this murder investigation to avoid dealing with your personal issues.”

“What issues?”

“The loss of your oldest and closest friend. The loss of you and me. Your dissatisfactions with your job. How are things working out between you and Sam?”

“I wish people would stop analyzing me.”

“It was just a suggestion.”

“So, I'm not intriguing. So, I don't trust men.”

“I didn't say that.”

“Tonight, I'm taking Isabelle to Felix's place. It's a huge house. The cops didn't take everything out. Maybe we'll look around.”

“Don't.” His tone was sharp. “Let go of this thing and deal with your grief.”

“Don't tell me what to do.”

They stared at each other across the desk. His thumbs stopped twirling; the tips rested together.

“It's advice,” he said. “Obviously, not an order. If I encouraged you to snoop through his house, would you do the opposite?”

“Probably.” She smiled to imply she was joking, and really she was. “I swear I'll give it up, after tonight.”

“Why do I doubt that?” His wry expression returned. “So, have we broken up?”

“I don't know.”

“Let's keep it ambiguous.”

She followed Isabelle
up Felix's stairs, pausing at the middle floor for a peek at the master bedroom. The gold and maroon colors, king-sized brass bed, plumped pillows, and chaise lounge screamed Callie's decor. Felix had given Callie and Dimitri this space until she bought the house in Riverdale. If Felix had loved her, it seemed a bit kinky of him to preserve it as a shrine.

The clunky old computer was gone from the front den. The other front room contained a maze of boxes the police would have searched if they were looking at probable murder instead of probable suicide. The boxes were labeled in felt pen. She passed over the one marked “university essays” and opened “Saskatchewan,” where Felix was born and grew up. Inside were Matchbox cars, a Slinky, and assorted balls: a football, soccer ball, basketball, and baseball. Leaving Isabelle to collect her belongings in the attic, Paula sat on the hall floor between the two front rooms and zoomed the mini cars to the master bedroom door. The Corvette did a triple flip.