to weasel out of it.”
My God, it was starting.
“I won’t resist, Edwina. Will it be a long one?”
Silence drifted back to me over the phone.
“What time,” I asked, assuming she was still on the line, “and are you sending a guard for me?”
“Very funny. Stan will pick you up at six thirty.”
“All right.”
“And, Camilla.”
“Yes?”
“Do not, and I mean this, do not provoke Alexa.”
“Moi?” I asked.
But she’d already hung up.
* * *
It was after nine when I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair. I decided not to wait until I got to the office to make my first call.
“Oh sure,” said Merv. “I’ll just drop everything and find out about this guy for you. I was just sitting here waiting for your call anyway.”
“Very funny, Merv. But I’ll understand if you abandon Robin to her fate. Pressures of work. Nothing to be done about it.”
Merv made some sort of animal noise before he hung up.
It sounded promising to me.
I was wearing my pumps and my best court suit. I took my camera, just in case I needed it, and my Nikes, just in case I had a chance to walk somewhere.
One last call before leaving.
“She’s asleep,” Mr. Findlay whispered.
“How’s she doing?”
“A bit better. She had a visit from a very nice young man yesterday. Seemed to cheer her up. Maybe you could call a bit later in the mornings. Brooke needs to rest until eleven.”
I let the Brooke remark slide. At least Ted had done his Boy Scout bit and visited Robin.
As I stepped into the hallway, it occurred to me a photo of the cats might cheer Robin. I opened the door, said the magic words “Meow Mix”, and snapped the six of them as they whipped into sight.
“So long, guys,” I said, closing the door and almost tripping over Mrs. Parnell’s walker.
She opened her pursed-up mouth to say something.
“Smile for the birdie,” I squawked, as I clicked the shutter.
Darned if she didn’t blush.
I left for work with a good plan for the day. Beaver through the Benning file then move on to see Rudy Wendtz, as soon as he might be awake. I decided on eleven as the trend.
When I pulled into Rudy Wendtz’s driveway, I had to admit to myself that not one word of the Benning brief had made it past my eyes and into my brain, where it could have done some good. Tomorrow, I promised myself.
It was the perfect spring morning, bright yellow sun, bright blue sky, bright tulips in many colours. The temperature was a bright twenty degrees and climbing. The teal wool suit, although bright, was beginning to feel hot and scratchy, and it crossed my mind that I should get some new warm-weather clothes. But first things first.
Rudy Wendtz was polishing off breakfast in his conservatory which overlooked the canal. Very pleasant. His cotton terry robe had set him back a couple of hundred bucks. His bare feet were resting on a leather ottoman as he lounged in a leather chair, enjoying his breakfast cigarette.
Wendtz was large. Under the terrycloth robe lay long, powerful muscles. The presence of exercise machines and weights in the room may have contributed to the impression. There were no plants in this conservatory, but then you can’t have everything.
He didn’t get up when I was shown in by the large, lumpy individual who answered the door. Just studied me from behind semi-closed lids, while he blew out smoke. From the look on his face, I would rate about a 2 on a good day.
I didn’t care. Rudy didn’t rate too high with me, either.
I could see why Mitzi had kept him, though. He had a certain something, in that he was well over six feet and he radiated power. He looked as though he hadn’t shaved for several days, and he had a serious case of bedhead. His eyes were the eyes of a snake, and perhaps that’s why he looked dangerous.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Good morning,” I trilled. “How are you today?”
“I’m doing okay,” he said.
I didn’t doubt it. The three-story brick house, with its location on the Queen Elizabeth Driveway and its view of the sparkling canal, its long, green lawn, its conservatory and its God knows what else, must have set him back a few bucks. The black Mercedes in the driveway was a good indicator, too.
“Terrific,” I chirped. “I wonder if you can help me?”
“Maybe.”
“Great. You see my friend, Robin Findlay, was unfortunate enough to find the body of Mitzi Brochu, who I understand was a friend of yours. The police are being quite difficult about this, and I thought that I would chat with people involved and try to find out something that could help a bit.”
I beamed at him.
The large, lumpy individual poured out a mug of coffee for Wendtz. They both looked at me.
“Oh lovely,” I said. “I take mine with just a bit of cream.”
Glances heavy with meaning were exchanged before Large-and-Lumpy lumbered off. He returned with a black mug for me, filled it and added some cream. He looked like he was measuring my neck for a garotte.
“Mmm,” I said, taking a sip. “I hear you were great friends.”
“Who do you hear that from?”
“Oh, here and there, everyone seems to know.”
“Do they?”
“Mmmm. Yes, they do. Wonderful coffee.”
“My special blend,” said Large-and-Lumpy, with a shy pride.
“Just great,” I said.
“And a bit of French roast.”
“Good enough to market,” I said, thinking I had made a friend.
“I don’t think I can do much for you, Miss Um…?
“Oh, I’m sure you can, Mr. Wendtz.”
He turned the full force of his snake eyes on me. I sipped a bit more coffee and smiled.
“You see, I think that whatever Mitzi was working on might be the key to her murder. I know she was a very good friend of yours, but she seemed to alienate a good many people with her work.”
Wendtz lit another cigarette, and Large-and-Lumpy looked at me with understanding. I felt certain that Mitzi had alienated him, all right.
“I don’t know what she was working on.”
“You don’t?” I said, gazing with disappointment into my empty mug.
“No.”
“That’s too bad.”
Large-and-Lumpy moved around my chair and refilled my mug. I beamed at him like a soul mate.
“We didn’t mix business and pleasure,” Wendtz said, shooting a bit of smoke in my direction.
“A shame.”
He shrugged. This was a man born to shrug.
“There are some local people who were singled out by Mitzi for persistent treatment. I wondered if you might know whether they were targets for coming articles. It’s possible