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Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

Little Boy Blues (24 page)

BOOK: Little Boy Blues
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“You know him well?”

“I used to. When I lived in Sydney.”

“How did you meet him?”

She laughed. “It was Sydney. You don’t have to meet people. You automatically know them. Everyone knew Jimmy. He had his little routes, and you would run into him all the time.”

“Did you have a good relationship with him?”

“I was always glad to see him. He got so excited about things. If someone had sent him a letter. Or whatever video he was about to watch. Sometimes he was excited about school. I’ve been worried sick all week.”

“All week? When did you find out he was missing?”

She stared at me. “Well, you really couldn’t be in town that weekend without knowing something was going on. It was all over the media. The radio was having call-ins about him. The newspaper ran his picture. They ran appeals on television. This is not the sort of thing you get in Sydney.”

“Sydney? You were there?”

“Yes.”

That was a shock. “But I thought your family lived here.”

Another smile. “We are allowed back, you know. My brother wanted to connect with an old school buddy, and my mother and I flew in to meet him. My mother still has friends in Sydney. We hadn’t been back since my father died. Then we left town late in the evening of July 1st and headed for Baddeck. We spent a couple of days going around the trail,
then we drove to Halifax and flew home.”

“Did you see Jimmy on Canada Day?”

She shook her head. “No. We were trying to catch up with people. The whole day was taken up racing from house to house. People can’t get enough of you. They want to feed you and make you drink and all that good stuff.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I figured you’d recognize the behaviour.”

“Sure do. Back to Jimmy Ferguson. You’re sure you didn’t see him?”

“Absolutely. I would have loved to have seen Jimmy. When I heard the news, I racked my brain to see if I could remember spotting him. I wasn’t even sure I’d recognize him after all these years. He must be in his twenties now. Even when we were going around the trail, the radio kept broadcasting these appeals for information over and over. It was on every TV station in our accomodation. We were all quite agitated about it, but none of us saw him.”

“Did you speak to the police?”

“Why would I speak to the police?” Was it my imagination or was Honey Redmore the slightest bit rattled?

“Didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I am not upset.”

“Sorry.” Like hell I was sorry. Something was not right, and I planned to dig and push and unsettle until I found out what it was.

“It’s okay. I was disturbed about him being missing, that’s all.”

“And yet you didn’t speak to the police.”

She gave me a look that showed the spine she would have needed in that high-powered job with the ear of the Minister of whatever the hell it was.

“I understand there was an incident with you and Jimmy several years ago.”

The bottle slipped from her hand and shattered on the cobble-stoned patio. Corona splashed my bare legs. The little slice of lime skittered under the next table. The smell of beer filled the air.

Every table at the patio was filled, and every person there whipped around to stare at me, it seemed. I figured no one could believe that pretty little Honey could have a clumsy accident.

I lifted my intact mug to set the record straight. The server scurried over to get the broken bottle shards out of the way.

“Don’t worry about it,” she told me. “It happens. Would you like another one?”

It was another five minutes before the patio was swept up and Honey had her replacement Corona. The server gave Honey a sympathetic look. I guess she figured Honey was covering up for klutzy old me, and wasn’t that nice of her.

“Sorry about that,” Honey said. “And the day was going so well up to that point.”

I said, “I’d like to talk about an incident several years ago. Something to do with a situation between Jimmy Ferguson and you.” She shook her head. “In your home.”

“No.”

“Some kind of an attack, I hear.”

“There was no attack.”

“Assault perhaps.”

“No.”

“Look, I am a victims’ rights advocate. I understand how difficult this would have been for you, particularly since you liked Jimmy. I am sure it was traumatic and upsetting, but the fact is Jimmy does not function intellectually as an adult, so
he could easily misread situations. I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Please,” I said. “Work with me here. Jimmy’s out on his own, without his medication, which you will know if you are following the news on him. He’s already most likely done himself more physical damage, and he’ll be dead soon if we don’t find him. If we can understand his behaviour, perhaps it can give us some leads about what he might have done that led to his disappearance.”

Her hand was tight around the Corona. “I wish you’d listen to me. No attack. No assault. Jimmy Ferguson never did a thing wrong to me. Never.”

“But I’ve been told the police took Jimmy into the station after something happened between you and him.”

“Trust me. Nothing happened. Why are you asking about this?”

“But the police did take Jimmy in for questioning. Not that they will talk to me.”

“They took him in for questioning?”

“Yes. For hours. Without legal counsel, I might add.”

“I didn’t know about any of that.”

“Didn’t they take a statement from you?”

“No. They didn’t.”

“But they must have. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, they didn’t. And that’s because there was nothing to take a statement about. I repeat. No assault and no attempt at assault and nothing that could have been construed as assault or attempted assault. Am I making myself clear?” Her cheeks blazed.

“Really? And yet they took him in for questioning. Why was that?”

“I don’t
know
. This is really upsetting,” she said. “I thought I’d put it all behind me.”

“Put what behind you? You just said nothing happened.”

“There were rumours. In a town like Sydney, where it seems there’s only one degree of separation from everyone, gossip can spread like a virus.”

I rubbed my temples. “Do you mind just telling me what might have kick-started the rumours, and then I could stop upsetting you.”

“Okay. The rumour went all over town that Jimmy had attempted to rape me. Some of the rumours went further and said he’d succeeded. Other people said he’d been arrested and charged. I even heard he’d been sent away.”

“What was behind the rumours?”

“Nothing Jimmy did, that’s for sure. How could he have been arrested for attacking me if no one asked me a thing about it?”

“And the police never talked to you?”

“Please believe me.”

“And life went on as before?”

“Not really. I had a lot on my mind at the time. I was very upset when I heard the rumours. Of course, some of them were really nasty.”

“Yes?”

She gripped the new Corona bottle. “Some people suggested I might have teased him, then turned on him when he tried to take it further. Others seemed to believe Jimmy was a ticking time bomb.”

“Jimmy was damaged by these rumours.”

“I’m sure he was. And so was I. Everyone was diminished by them.”

“The police never should have taken Jimmy in. Something’s
wrong about this story. Something’s missing,” I said.

“Did you speak to them?”

“I tried, but there are issues with the Young Offenders Act, so they weren’t going to talk. Now I see that even hauling him in was a travesty of justice.”

“The whole thing was a travesty.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. But I can see why they’d have to investigate any accusations.”

“I hope this is the last time I have to repeat this. I did not make any accusations.”

“Even his brother said Jimmy had a crush on you.”

“He often sat outside the house and waited for me. I liked him. And I never led him on. And he never did anything that was out of order. He was very sweet.”

“And you continued to socialize with him?”

“No, I didn’t. My father died quite suddenly, and we moved from Sydney very shortly afterwards. Of course, the rumours were upsetting, so I kept to myself. I didn’t really have any occasion to see him after that time.” I opened my mouth, but she interrupted me. “But I would have had time for Jimmy. You can believe that.”

The funny thing was, I did believe it.

“One more question,” I said. “If you didn’t complain to the police about Jimmy, who did?”

Honey looked like she’d been smacked with a solid right hook. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go now.” She stood up, tossed a twenty onto the table and headed off across the cobbled courtyard at a brisk clip. I figured that was the end of what might have been a beautiful friendship. And I knew I’d hit paydirt.

Twenty-Three

The meeting with Honey Redmore hadn’t used up the hour I’d allotted to it, so now I had time on my hands before I was to meet P. J. I had the Buick, and I was close enough to Elgin Street to strafe Mombourquette to see if he’d learned anything about the fire in Alvin’s building. You always have to sneak up on Mombourquette, or he disappears into some dark recess with a flash of the tail.

Of course, it was a Saturday in July, and anyone with a life wouldn’t have been at their desk. I was betting Mombourquette didn’t have a life. Particularly with his partner on three weeks leave.

Amazingly, the cheerful wave to the desk Sergeant outside Criminal Investigations got me a nod. “Must be a party going on.”

I couldn’t imagine that. I stuck my head into Mombourquette’s office, anticipating that he would recoil as usual. I did the recoiling.

“How ya doing?” Ray Deveau said.

My mouth hung open.

Mombourquette said, “Close your mouth, it’s bad enough you smell like a brewery.”

“Lennie said you might drop in. Good to see you.” Deveau got to his feet and shook my hand warmly. Words failed me.

“Gracious as always,” Mombourquette said.

“I’m surprised,” I managed.

“Looking for Jimmy Ferguson. It’s my case. Time’s running out. And now we know it’s more than a runaway situation.”

“Doing his job. Without any help from you,” Mombourquette said.

“Actually, Camilla was great. Always one step ahead. Made a big difference to us. Opened up quite a few possibilities.”

“Really? How many laws did she break in the process?”

Deveau gave that big, booming laugh. “We lost count, but back home we’re not as tight-assed about that stuff as you Mainlanders.”

“Yeah, right. What do you want, Camilla? We’re about to leave.”

Deveau grinned. “We’re heading out for a bite to eat, and maybe a drink. You want to join us?”

“She’s busy,” Mombourquette said.

Lucky me, I found my voice at that point. “Love to paint the town red with you guys, but, sadly, I have a date.”

Deveau’s grin faded. “That’s too bad.”

“Especially for the date,” Mombourquette said.

“I want to talk about the fire at Alvin’s place. Who’s the point person on the Ottawa force for the Jimmy Ferguson case? I know it isn’t you, Lennie, but I figure you can get the information to the right desk.”

“Have you found out something?” Deveau said.

“Why can’t you be more like your civilized cousin?” I asked Mombourquette.

Mombourquette flashed his incisors. “Get to the point, if you have one.”

“I’d like to know if you’ve heard from the Hull guy whether that big fire on St. Joseph was arson. That was Alvin’s place, and Jimmy Ferguson was in the building the night of the fire.”

“You’re kidding.”

Mombourquette turned a paler shade of grey. “We weren’t aware of that. There weren’t any fatalities.”

“Just lucky, I guess. Have you seen the place? Nothing left. A charred hole in the ground. Neighbours saw Jimmy running away from the building. So, at least, we know he was alive after the fire.”

Deveau said, “I knew I could count on you. Do you have names of people who might have seen Jimmy?”

“I gave them to Alvin. He’s staying at Mrs. Parnell’s.” I wrote down the number. “I think they’re all French-speaking.”

“And me stuck with a name like Deveau.
Quel dommage
. How will I cope?” Always chuckling, that man. I wondered if all that good humour would get on your nerves after a while. “You want to give me your number?” he said. “I might need to check in and share information.”

“Sure,” I said. I wrote my cell number and home number on the back of my card and handed it to Deveau. I enjoyed the expression on Mombourquette’s face. “I’d better get yours too, Ray. I’m heading for Bluesfest tonight. Alvin thinks that might be a place Jimmy would go.”

“I’ll call you. I’m staying at Lennie’s.”

I was proud of myself. I didn’t say a word about tails, whiskers or holes in the wall.

• • •

Even the threat of rain doesn’t dampen the spirits of a crowd at an outdoor festival. Great if you feel like fun. I didn’t expect to keep Jimmy out of my mind long enough to enjoy the shows fully. Particularly with P. J.’s mood.

“Okay, you can stop fussing. I’m here now.” I followed P. J.
through the special Clubhouse entrance and onto the Bluesfest Grounds.

“I can’t get over it. You missed Blue Rodeo last night and all the afternoon stuff today.”

“Cool it, P. J. Remember, you never heard of any of these people before. You like alternative rock, remember? If it’s too big for the garage, you lose interest.”

“Funny, Tiger.”

Even with the special entrance, I picked up the buzz from the crowd. Close to twenty thousand people merged and surged on the site, heading to one of the four stages or the Compact Music tent to buy CDs. People bought souvenirs, festival chairs, beer. Music swirled all around, and people moved their bodies to the sound. Even me. I couldn’t keep the shoulders or the hips still.

This was the first time I remembered being at a Bluesfest without having to carry a blanket or chair to sit on. Our Clubhouse passes guaranteed chairs that you didn’t have to carry, great views of the stages and our own Clubhouse portapotties.

BOOK: Little Boy Blues
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