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