a lot of his time on site, doing errands for Justice for Victims—but I suspect also putting the moves on some of the junior staff. Thanks to my tax dollars hard at work, the library was warm.
I asked for a couple of back issues of magazines. The girl at the counter blinked at me. “Do you have a brother?”
“Weird, people keep asking me.” I carried my mags to the table with the best view of the staircase. Ten minutes later, I was convinced Ralph Benning had not followed me to the Reference Department. I headed to the ladies' room.
Five minutes later, Alvin's jacket, scarf and glasses were in the bag, and I was redefined. I had a quick drink at the fountain to rinse the taste of old clothes out of my mouth. But the dusty, musty, bottom of the drawer residue was the least of my problems.
The girl at the desk didn't even blink as I slunk past. She also didn't ask if I was related to the guy in the Mickey Mouse scarf.
* * *
Merv had been under the weather since my friend Robin had headed off to spend a month in Mexico with another man. That's a different story, but I wondered if it were connected to Merv's spell of bad health. It doesn't do to coddle middle-aged heartbroken Mounties, especially not tall, lanky, good-looking ones. I was doing him a favour, I decided, as I wrenched open the door of his car.
“Hey, you, what are you doing? Get the hell out.”
“Morning, Merv. Nice to see you too.”
“Yeah, yeah. What's going on, Camilla? Make it important.”
“What ever happened to ‘Good Morning, Camilla, you look lovely today?'”
“First of all, it's not a good morning and second, you look unlovely.” He eased into the traffic on Laurier Street. “What's with the get-up? Costume party? Bag lady convention?”
“I have a strategic reason for the disguise. Turn left on O'Connor.”
“Who elected you queen, Camilla? What the crap is going on? Didn't you buy a new Civic in the fall?” In all the time I'd known him, Merv had always been crotchety, so I let it roll off. “Start talking.”
I might have felt some apprehension if I hadn't known how Merv felt about pale, delicate women who find themselves in desperate situations. You could count on a man who still wore Old Spice after twenty years.
“Do you remember the Benning case?” I said.
“How could I forget it? It was all over the media.”
“Do you remember Benning's girlfriend, Lindsay Grace?”
“The one who testified against him? Sure. Why?”
“Have you listened to the news today, Merv?”
“Nah. I'm watching Rosie and Jenny and the other girls.”
“Did you hear Benning broke out?”
“Broke out of what? Isn't he some kind of psycho?”
“He's a psycho all right. He was on his way to court, his sentencing hearing. He shot a cop, and he's on the run. And he'll be after her.”
“Shot a cop? That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“We must have passed twenty Ottawa cruisers. And plenty of unmarked ones. They'll get him. Wouldn't want to be him when they do.”
“He won't be easy to catch. He's not going to hitch a lift in a police cruiser. He doesn't look like a psycho. He has money and connections. He'll have a plan. He'll hide out, and he'll go after her.”
“Money and connections?”
“The money's supposed to be from drugs, big-time stuff. He's a career criminal. People say he's such a loose cannon even the major suppliers and dealers are scared shitless of him.”
“Jeez. That's bad. I'll give you a hand, but you know the Ottawa force has jurisdiction. They have communications, backup, they'll call in a tactical team. That's the kind of protection she needs.”
“They're not at Lindsay's place, Merv.”
“Be serious.”
“I am deadly serious. Head right down O'Connor and cross over at the Pretoria Bridge. She's on Echo Drive.”
“Holy shit. Why isn't Ottawa covering this Lindsay Grace?”
Good question. “The last time Benning jumped the fence, he had help, and he always was one step ahead of the police. Rumour is he had inside help.”
“Crap.”
“That's the buzz. Might explain why it's been so hard to keep him behind bars, and why he was able to break loose today.”
“Where'd you hear that?”
“P. J. Lynch has been talking about it.”
“Oh.”
“Right. Not some wacko. P. J. s a serious guy, and if he believes Benning has an inside man, my money says he's right. Lindsay thinks so too. But Benning never let on who the inside connection was.”
“Yeah, yeah. You still need the Ottawa guys.”
“I realize that. Elaine Ekstein will hit the police brass. She's probably there already. She'll make sure the address is given out on a need-to-know basis. They'll cooperate with Elaine if they know what's good for them. In the meantime, Lindsay's my client. She's afraid, and I had to respect her wishes. And I'm scared shitless he'll find her.”
“And this Benning's been out how long?”
“Couple of hours. You don't know this guy, Merv. He's smart and capable of extreme violence. Totally out of control. We have to protect Lindsay now. We'll sort out jurisdictions after. But are we ever going to move?”
“Aw jeez, someone stalled up ahead on the bridge. It's too late to back up. We're stuck here.”
“Mind if I use your phone? Alvin has mine.”
“Would it matter if I did mind?”
I dialed Lindsay's number. Still no answer. “I should hop out and run the rest of the way.”
“Better let me go. What can you do if this guy shows up?”
“She doesn't know you. She'll never let you in.”
“Two women up against this maniac? Your best bet is still the Ottawa Police.”
“Watch your blood pressure. I have no choice. I'll get to Lindsay's on foot. You could be stuck here for an hour.”
“Wait a minute. We're moving again.”
He was right. The tow-truck lights flashed up ahead. Traffic started to inch over the bridge. I leaned back and exhaled. Three more minutes.
