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Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

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BOOK: Law and Disorder
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I stood back. “I thought you were going to wait for me outside the courthouse. How did you find out where I live?”

A look of hurt flickered across his movie star features. Even rivulets of rain and hair hanging in damp strands can’t take anything away from our Bunny. “I’m a burglar, not an idiot.”

“In that case, there’s no keeping you out, I suppose.” I gestured for him to follow me.

“It’s a terrible thing,” he said, as he stood and shook in the hallway. “I don’t know what to do. Or what to think. It’s like a nightmare.”

I rubbed my temple. “I’m beginning to get the nightmare part.”

“What do you mean?”

“Forget that. Just tell me what exactly the terrible thing is, and we can all get on with our lives.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“You’re dripping wet and you’re shivering. Let me get you a cup of tea.” I always end up feeling sorry for Bunny, even though it took me a while to let him come in out of the pouring rain. “While I’m getting it, just tell me what the problem is. Succinctly.”

Alvin took that moment to stick his beaky nose around the corner. “What’s going on? Oh, hello, Bunny. Do you need a towel?”

“Hey, Alvin.” Bunny’s smile, the one that Elaine refers to as “the beatific burglar”, spread across his face.

Damn. I hoped they wouldn’t get into a long chinwag. Between Bunny and Alvin, the world could grind to a halt.

Alvin was already halfway up the stairs.. There was no point in hanging around waiting for him to come down. He could get distracted in an infinite number of ways. I headed toward the kitchen. Bunny followed, dripping water in small well-formed puddles.

“What is the terrible situation you need to talk about, Bunny?” I said as I reached for the kettle.

From the covered bird cage in the corner, Lester, or possibly Pierre, gave a disgruntled chirp.

“You know, the thing with Rollie Thorsten.”

Alvin called down the stairs, “Do you mind if I bring one of
your
towels, Camilla? They’re nice and they’re clean.”

As if it mattered what I said. I plugged in the kettle and kept cool. “Whatever.”

Bunny said, “He always seems very nice.”

I stopped and turned around. “Have a seat, Bunny. And don’t let yourself be fooled by Alvin. Stay on topic. What about the thing with Rollie Thorsten?”

Bunny settled damply at the smart little bistro set by the side wall of the kitchen, in front of an exuberant faux grapevine which curled around a couple of Corinthian columns. He was looking perplexed.

“He’s a bit young for you, though. And I’m not sure about the ponytail and the earrings. I would have thought you’d be more likely to go out with some kind of NDP speech writer or—”

“Earth to Bunny, Alvin is my office assistant.”

“But this is your home and it’s ten at night and he’s here.”

“He has accommodation issues. So Rollie Thorsten? What about him? Are you looking for details about his death? Because I don’t have any.”

Bunny’s voice went up an octave. “Of course, his death. What else would I… What’s that on your ceiling?”

“Grapes,” I said. “Doesn’t everyone have a grapevine painted on their ceiling? Don’t get sidetracked. What exactly about Rollie’s death brings you out to my house on a rainy evening, Bunny? Forget the murals.”

While I waited for Bunny to figure out my meaning, I got the tea from the cupboard. I decided on an extra bag for pain and anguish.

Bunny said, “It’s like the others. Don’t you think?”

“You lost me there. What is like what others?”

“I meant Rollie’s death. It’s weird.”

“People drown, Bunny. I heard he’d been drinking, and he wasn’t wearing a flotation device, and a high percentage of people who do drown fit into those categories too.” I didn’t bother to articulate my notion that Brugel might have orchestrated Rollie’s demise. Bunny was agitated enough as it was.

“These crumbling stone walls,” Bunny said, reaching out to run a hand along my kitchen wall. “Are they…?”

“Real?” I finished. “No. Alvin painted them while I was in Italy. Back to topic.” The kettle shrieked and I warmed the tea pot with the boiling water, drained it, and made the tea.

“It was a surprise for her,” Alvin said, appearing at the door with my favourite oversize bath towel. He handed it to Bunny and said, “I turned it into a villa.”

“Wow.”

Alvin lowered his eyes modestly and blushed. “Those wine bottles in the wine cellar there aren’t real either. Every inch of this main level has an Italian theme. Do you like the murals?”

Bunny turned his beautiful eyes on me. “Were you surprised?”

“What do you think?”

Silence. Finally Bunny said, “I think you probably were.”

“Right. The coliseum on the dining room wall really threw me. So now that pressing decorating discussion is out of the way, Bunny, what exactly is your point about Rollie Thorsten?”

Bunny opened his mouth.

I added, “In twenty-five words or less.”

“Boy, that’s harsh, Camilla. The guy’s dead.”

“Oh, cry me a river. He was playing hardball trying to get Lloyd Brugel unleashed on society. It was a heinous crime, yet he took witnesses apart on the stands. One of them killed herself. He can’t be dead enough for me.”

Bunny said, “I’m never exactly sure what heinous means.”

Naturally, Alvin joined in the conversation. “You may have noticed that Camilla is not the most sentimental person in the universe. Or the most grateful I might add,” he sniffed. “I have turned my hand to cooking. I think that is a form of artistry in itself. Not that she appreciates any of it.”

Bunny turned to stare at him. It could have been the nine visible earrings, or the ponytail or even the beaky nose, but most likely it was the strange turn the conversation had taken. Whatever, it got Bunny off track.

I said, “Butt out, Alvin. This is business.”

Alvin said, beaky nose high. “Go ahead, Bunny.”

I said, “And make an effort not to drive me crazy.”

Bunny stood wrapped in my best bath sheet, shivering.

I tried for control again. “Bunny, go to the living room. Sit on the sofa. Move the dog out of the way. The cat too. Now. Alvin, since you’re the office assistant, you can pour the tea when it’s ready. Bunny takes his with three creams and three sugars.”

Alvin, hovered between the door and the living room. “Cream in tea? But that’s not—”

I shot him a warning glance. “Just this once: no arguments. Milk first in mine.”

Bunny said as he blotted himself off. “I got these notes.”

Alvin stopped and turned.

“Notes?” we said together.

Bunny flicked his glance from me to Alvin and back. “Yes. What?”

“What kind of notes?” I wasn’t sure why “notes” would have an ominous ring, but I felt a little throbbing in my temple. Why hadn’t I gone into dentistry instead of law?

“They were like jokes.”

“Jokes,” Alvin said.

“Yes.” Bunny’s teeth chattered.

I said, “What kind of jokes? You mean cartoons?”

“No, I mean jokes. Lawyer jokes.”

I said, “I hate goddam lawyer jokes. What about client jokes? Or accused jokes?”

Alvin said, “We got them too.”

I said, “We did?”

“I showed them to you, but maybe I didn’t mention that they came in the mail. I don’t always bore you with every detail.”

“Apparently not. So, now, Bunny, can you tell me what’s so important about these jokes?”

“Well, they died.”

“Who died?”

“People,” Bunny snuffled. “And now Rollie.”

“And the jokes are connected how?”

“I don’t know. But they are.”

Like many dealings with Bunny, this situation seemed baffling. I sighed and said gently, “Who do you think is sending these so-called jokes? Why would you have anything to do with lawyer jokes?”

“I have no idea, Camilla. I mean, it’s not like I’m that easy to find. No one knows where I live.”

I could feel the faint stirrings of a familiar headache. “Have you been hiding?”

“Well, sure. That’s my point. I got plenty of reason to hide. I want to keep my family away from, um, former colleagues and all that. I told you I was going straight, now that Tonya and I have Destiny to think about. It’s not that easy, but mostly I’m a stay-at-home dad. But I got a part-time job in a framing shop and everything. I’m doing my best to keep out of trouble.”

“That’s wonderful news, Bunny. I knew you had what it takes to go straight.”

“It takes a family, I guess. Problem is I moved to Barrhaven, and now I’m getting the jokes in my new place.”

“Change of address cards?” Alvin chimed in.

“No way. I try never to have an address.”

Alvin said, “You don’t have an address? Why not?”

“Bad idea for a couple of reasons.”

The cops would be one of those reasons. Bad companions probably another.

Bunny said, “I use a mail drop. I don’t get that much mail anyway. Tonya picks it up. I’m not taking a chance.”

“So the jokes are forwarded to your mail drop. But you know, Bunny, that really doesn’t seem too—”

Bunny twisted in agitation. “No! That’s not it. They’re in my mailbox.”

Alvin said, “Maybe everyone’s getting them. Because—”

Another interruption from Bunny. “I asked all my neighbours, and no one else was getting unsigned jokes in the mail.”

I tried to be the voice of sanity. “So, let’s see if I understand. You get these jokes and then someone dies?”

“Yeah. It sounds really dumb.”

“People die every day. I read the obits, but I don’t feel responsible for them,” I said sensibly.

“But it’s like I’m the messenger.”

I said, “You mean the Bunny of Death?”

Bunny’s chiseled jaw dropped. “What?”

“She’s just kidding,” Alvin said. “She enjoys incongruity.”

“Yeah, you know,” I said, “Angel of Death. Bunny of Death.”

Bunny jumped to his feet and started to pace. “That’s horrible, Camilla. Gives me shivers. And it’s not funny. The Bunny of Death? I have a hard enough time sleeping nights as it is.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought it was funny. I was making the point that you aren’t causing people to die. Hold that thought, Bunny. Alvin, get in there and pour the tea.”

If Bunny noticed the “hold-the-thought” instruction, he didn’t follow it. “But I’m connected somehow. When one of these lawyer jokes comes, I’m going to hear about someone dying the next day.”

Alvin said, “Lord thundering Jesus.”

Bunny said, “It’s making me crazy.”

Crazy for sure and also unbelievable. “Exactly how many jokes have you received, Bunny?”

“Three. Rollie was the third.”

Alvin ruined the moment. “Three?”

Bunny nodded.

I said, “And…?”

“And then the day after each one, someone died.”

“Well, like who, Bunny?”

“Like Roxanne Terrio.”

“Roxanne Terrio? I remember that. Didn’t she die in a bicycle accident in Gatineau Park last month? That’s what I read in the paper. Anyway, Roxanne Terrio wasn’t sleazy. Wasn’t she a real estate lawyer? She didn’t have the kind of clientele that Rollie had.”

Bunny said, “Maybe she wasn’t sleazy. But I got a joke the day before she died.”

I decided to take control. “Coincidence.”

“Then there was that judge, like federal court or something. Judge Cardarelle. I didn’t know him.”

“But he was a judge, not a lawyer. Change in pattern, Bunny. I think you’re—”

Bunny shot back, “Didn’t he have to be a lawyer first?”

“Point to Bunny,” Alvin said.

“Not so fast. I don’t even remember how he died. Oh hang on, yes, it was some kind of allergy. Anaphylactic shock. Just a tragic set of circumstances.”

Bunny said, “Maybe. But I got a note.”

“What precisely do you mean you got a note?” I asked.

“Well, the day after a joke comes, I get a note. Every time. With the dead person’s name on it. How else would I know that their deaths were connected to the jokes?”

Alvin gazed at Bunny in amazement. I can’t even imagine what kind of stunned expression I had on my face.

Alvin stopped staring at Bunny and started gawking at me. “I told you there was something weird about those freaking jokes that came in the mail, Camilla.”

I would have sat down at that point, but Alvin had the chair and Bunny, the dog and the cat filled the sofa. “I thought those jokes were aimed at me,” I said.

Bunny said, “Why would they be aimed at you?”

“Because I’m a lawyer. And they’re lawyer jokes. And lots of people hate lawyers. We’re easy to hate—until you need us.”

“But you’re not dead.”

“I realize that. But maybe I’m the Camilla of Death.”

Bunny frowned. “Sometimes you’re just creepy, Camilla.”

“Tell me about it,” Alvin said, shaking his head. “But that’s weird if we got the same jokes on the same day.”

That reminded me. “Was this why you were trying to talk to me today in the courthouse, Bunny?”

“I wanted to tell you about all this, about the notes with the names on them. I was upset because I got another joke yesterday, and I thought someone else would die. They did.”

Alvin said, “What did it say?”

Bunny glanced over, looking hopeful. “It was that old one about how do you stop a lawyer from drowning.”

Alvin chuckled, “You shoot him, right?”

“It wasn’t remotely funny the first thousand times I heard it, Alvin, and nothing’s changed. Get out of the chair and pour the tea before it gets cold.”

Alvin said to Bunny, “We got that one too.”

Bunny said, “And today, I got a piece of paper with the name Rollie Thorsten on it.”

I reached for the phone. “Who are you calling, Camilla?” Alvin and Bunny said in stereo.

“Confidential source. Just take care of the tea, Alvin. Bunny’s shivering.”

Mombourquette picked up at home on the fourth ring. “Sorry, I’m not Elaine,” I said.

“That’s good, because then there would be two of you,” he said. “And I’d have to choose the other one. By any chance, do you own a watch?”

“I know it’s late, but I need to find out what killed Rollie Thorsten.”

“Why? You got an office pool going? With what’s-his- name, the world’s most dangerous assistant?”

BOOK: Law and Disorder
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ads

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