Kaleidoscope (21 page)

“And she managed to pass her bar exams?” I said.

Diane chuckled. “Well, she had special tutoring. The male professors were falling over one another offering their services.”

“What’s Ana doing now?” I asked.

“She’s house counsel for a cosmetics company,” Diane said, stroking one of Linda’s cats. “The lawyer who does the real work is a mouse of a guy – he hands Ana the material. She focuses her tiny brain hard and then sashays into the boardroom with her gorgeous hair and her pouty mouth and her four-inch eyelashes and delivers the goods.”

“What if somebody asks her a question?” Sandra said.

“She promises to get back to them, and then she goes to Mr. Mouse,” Diane said and rolled her eyes. “Ana’s annual salary, not counting stock options, is probably four times more than mine.”

“You’re happy in your work,” Margot said sweetly. “And, really, isn’t that all that matters?”

Diane shot her an incredulous look. “You are kidding, right?”

“Right,” Margot said, and we all laughed.

“Margot, what’s the story on Sage Mackenzie?” Sandra asked. “I was really shocked when I heard she left Falconer Shreve. That’s a plum job. What happened?”

Margot and I exchanged a glance, then she shrugged. “Bad fit. Sage spent five years as a cop in North Central and she went to law school committed to the idea that the community should have a lawyer who knew their world.”

“And now the community’s legal needs are being underwritten by a retainer from your intended,” Diane said. “Or is my information wrong?”

“No, you’re right,” Margot said. “Sage has struck pay dirt, although she certainly earns it dealing with Louise.”

“Sage was a good cop,” Linda said. Her ginger cat, Trout, came up and rubbed against her leg. She picked him up and stoked him absently. “Determined, fearless, observant, fair. Perfect except …”

I picked up on her hesitation. “Except what?” I asked.

Linda continued to stroke Trout. “Sage has what we euphemistically refer to as an anger management problem. You know those YouTube clips of out-of-control cops beating up perpetrators? Sage had two of those to her credit. She is one of the most disciplined people I’ve ever known, but twice she just snapped. The consensus was that she’d seen too much when she was growing up.”

I remembered Alex Kequahtooway, an Aboriginal man who had been dear to me, saying that he couldn’t remember a day when he didn’t wake up angry. “So was Sage discharged from the force?” I said.

“No. She’d always planned to be a lawyer, and after her second anger management ‘failure,’ Sage decided the time was right. She jumped through all the hoops. She finished law
school, articled, passed the bar exams, became a lawyer, and then three months later she went back to the police force.”

“That’s strange, isn’t it?” I said.

“Very strange,” Linda said. “And there was a lot of chatter about it at that time. Apparently, Sage said she just missed police work – the excitement and the camaraderie, the bull sessions over coffee, and going out to the shooting range with the guys, that kind of thing. But then Delia Wainberg tapped her to go to Falconer Shreve. Apparently, Delia heard that Sage had the goods, so she convinced her to give the law a real try.”

“Sage didn’t try very long,” Margot said. “She left after a couple of months. It’s an odd pattern.”

“Anyway, she seems to have landed on her feet,” Linda said. “She’s a success professionally, and when she’s not tied up with Louise, she works closely with some of the kids in the gangs – trying to convince them to get out while the getting’s good, I guess.”

“The very model of a lawyer committed to ‘giving back,’ ” Margot said, and she gave me a sidelong glance and winked.

Linda stood up and rubbed her bare arms. “The weather seems to be changing on us. It’s getting cold, and those clouds look threatening. Shall we go inside?”

Diane stretched. “Thanks, but it’s time for me to call a cab to ferry me back to the real world. This really was a great evening, Linda.”

Diane’s farewell acted as a signal to the rest of us to carry in our dishes, say our thanks, and arrange for cabs.

I was back at Halifax Street by ten. Zack was in bed reading. I kissed him and then started to undress. “Everything okay here?” I asked.

“Yep. Taylor and I had a nice dinner, then we came home and we both tackled our homework.”

“Very virtuous,” I said.

“How were the male strippers?”

“Every last one was a Greek god, and mine was a five-star lap dancer.”

“I didn’t know those guys lap-danced.”

“They do if you stuff enough twenty-dollar bills down their Speedos.”

Zack peered at me over his horn rims. “So what did you really do?”

“Had a great meal, drank wine, played with Linda’s cats, and gossiped.”

“Did you learn anything you didn’t know?”

“I heard about Ana of the luscious lips, the small brain, and the prodigious ability to focus.”

Zack shook his head. “So Diane Quennell was there. She and Ana were in the same class. Ana’s success really sticks in Diane’s craw – not because she’s earning big bucks, but because Ana just uses the law as a means to an end.”

I buttoned my pyjama top. “Don’t all of us use our profession as a means to an end?”

“Probably, but Diane has respect for the law, and Ana doesn’t. That’s the real source of the antipathy.”

“Speaking of antipathy, I learned something interesting about Sage tonight,” I said. “According to Linda, Sage’s anger management problem is long standing.”

“That surprises me,” Zack said. “Sage wasn’t at Falconer Shreve long, but she was always very controlled. She only seemed to crack in the week before she was fired.”

“I’ve been thinking about what happened that night,” I said.

Zack closed his book. “Now that
doesn’t
surprise me.”

I slid into bed next to him. “Had there been any friction between you and Sage – I mean, before that night.”

“No. We were both absorbed by the Retzlaff case, and we had a good working relationship. I had no cause for complaint,
and I don’t think Sage did.” Zack looked at me questioningly. “I’m not connecting the dots here, Jo. If a woman is pissed off at a guy, does she usually ask him for a quickie?”

“No, and if a women makes a pass at a guy and he says, ‘No, thanks,’ she doesn’t usually unzip him and pull out his penis. When you told us about what happened that night at Magoo’s, Margot and I thought it was pretty funny, but I was talking to Ed about it today and something about the whole scenario just doesn’t add up.”

Zack frowned. “You don’t think I encouraged Sage, do you?”

I shook my head. “Of course not, but a delivery man wandering into a locked office in a secure building after hours doesn’t make sense. Have you ever wondered if Sage was thinking of blackmail?”

“So she arranged with the delivery man to catch the two of us
in flagrante delicto
and snap a couple of compromising pictures so she could get something she wanted.”

“You don’t look convinced,” I said.

“I’m not convinced,” Zack said. “I didn’t have anything she wanted. She wasn’t into money, and obviously she didn’t care about advancing her career at Falconer Shreve or she wouldn’t have taken on Norine. Something must have gone wrong for Sage – wrong enough that she fell apart.”

“A love affair?”

“I have no idea,” Zack said. “I don’t know anything about Sage that wasn’t on her resumé.”

“Jill told me something today that wouldn’t have been on Sage’s resumé. She’s Riel’s half-sister.”

Zack whistled. “Whoa. That’s interesting.”

“It is,” I said. “It’s also unsettling.”

“Look on the bright side,” Zack said. “We’re in for some kick-ass family dinners.”

The threatening grey clouds and the chill in the air we felt at the end of Linda’s party presaged a night of violent weather. Twice the wind shuddering against the windows awakened me. When I went to look out, nothing was visible through the driving rain except the distant lights of the city – pointillist dabs of colour in the blackness.

Storms didn’t trouble me. Usually, I reassured the dogs and enjoyed the show, but that night as thunder boomed and lightning split the sky I was anxious. Overall, it had been a good day. But I had lived long enough to be wary of loose ends, and this day had more than its share. Jill’s warning that the haters would exact a price for Riel’s co-operation with Leland Hunter rang true, but Ed’s assurances that he’d back off his investigation in North Central did not. Mieka’s support had been an unexpected gift, but Riel had been cool when he agreed to consider involving Nation
TV
in the process of mediation with Peyben. Sage Mackenzie was a baffling figure and one whom I couldn’t dismiss – unless Riel Delorme disappeared from our lives, and it didn’t look as though that was likely to happen.

Finally, chilled and exhausted, I slid into bed, pressed my body against Zack’s, and soothed by his warmth and the rhythm of his breathing, I slept.

CHAPTER
11

By morning the drama of the storm was over. When I walked out on our terrace, I saw that the wind had calmed and the rain was now warm and steady. I dressed for my run. The only time I wore a cap with a visor was when there was rain or snow. When Zack saw me tying back my hair in a ponytail so the cap would fit snugly, he said, “You’re not running on a shitty day like this, are you?”

“The worst is over,” I said. “And I like running in the rain – not too many other runners around. Will you be here when I get back?”

“Not sure,” he said. “Declan’s picking up Taylor for school, so I might take off early so I can talk to my client. The jury’s going to be in court today, and I would like Cronus to reach out a little. What’s that old joke? ‘If you can fake sincerity, you can fake pretty much anything’?”

I kissed him. “Good luck with that. Give me a shout if you have a moment. Otherwise I’ll see you after work. Remember you’re on your own again for dinner. Taylor and I will be at the All-College.”

“Take pictures,” Zack said.

“You are the most doting father,” I said.

“Making up for lost time. Have a good run.”

Leland was waiting at the elevator. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to run in this weather.”

“You and Zack,” I said. “I like running in the rain. Besides, I have to do penance for that extra glass of Riesling I had with dessert.”

“Margot said it was a great party,” Leland said.

“It was, and it was exactly right for Margot – no bad jokes or gag gifts, just friends having fun.”

Leland and I stepped into fresh cool air and streets that were slick but washed clean by the rainfall.

“You know, I’ve never had a woman running partner before,” Leland said.

“I’m surprised. Last night we talked – not always kindly – about the many women who lined up at your door after the divorce.”

“There weren’t that many women.” Leland ran his hand over his head. The stitches on his forehead were healing, but they were still apparent. “I’m not exactly Prince Charming,” he said.

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” I said. “You’re smart; you’re good company; and you’re a great running partner.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t seem to get close to many people.”

“It’s their loss,” I said. After that we silently continued our run along what had become our usual route.

When we turned onto Rose Street, a late-model black
SUV
peeled past us. The vehicle slowed but didn’t stop at the stop sign on the corner. The door on the passenger side opened and someone threw a large bundle onto the pavement, slammed
the door closed again, and the
SUV
sped off. The incident was over in a matter of seconds.

Leland turned to me. “Why would anybody do that?” he said.

“Too lazy to find a dumpster,” I said. As we came closer to the corner, we heard crying: what had appeared to be discarded clothing was a naked Aboriginal child, perhaps nine years old, wrapped in a blanket. She was clutching a ten-dollar bill, and her eyes were wide with terror. A grey-white viscous substance was dribbling from her mouth.

I dropped to my knees. “It’s all right,” I said to the child. “No one’s going to hurt you.” Leland was already on his cell a few steps away. “I’m going to hold your hand,” I said to her. “Is that all right?”

She didn’t react, so I took her hand in mine.

Leland was talking to the police.

“We’re going to get someone to help us,” I said to the girl. “No one will hurt you, I promise.” Still she said nothing, but she kept her frightened eyes on mine.

I longed to wipe her mouth, but I knew about contaminating evidence and I didn’t want whoever had done this to a child to have a single loophole. Her chest was heaving and her body was tight with fear. So was mine, but I managed to keep my voice low and calm. Then, out of nowhere, I remembered something I used to do with my kids when they were young and exploding with emotions they couldn’t understand.

I leaned closer to the child and whispered, “Close your eyes and think of the colour blue,” I said. She hesitated and then she closed her eyes. “Okay,” I said. “Now think of blue skies … and bluebirds … and blue cloth … and blue flowers … and blue Popsicles … and blueberries.” The child’s chest stopped heaving, and her breathing became more regular. “Now let’s try green,” I said.