I dropped the banana into the wastepaper basket and the room took on the scent.
Dabbing on the bit of blush gave Robin an illusion of health, if you didn’t look too closely. If you didn’t notice the loose skin and glazed eyes.
“There,” I said, waving a hand mirror in front of her face, “you look great. And we can see your breath on the mirror, so we know you’re alive. This is good. When he comes through that door, he’s going to fall right off his horse.”
I don’t know why she thought that was so funny. I found myself laughing, too. We howled until tears ran down our cheeks. Even though two minutes earlier I’d been acting with all the humour of a women’s prison warden. At least Robin, the real Robin, was still kicking underneath her shrunken exterior.
The door to her bedroom burst open and our laughing choked off.
“For Crissakes,” Brooke shrieked, sticking her head in, “don’t you know people are trying to sleep?”
“My apologies, Brooke. We shouldn’t let the psychological recovery of your sister interfere with something as crucial as your rest.”
I would have continued on, but she was gone before I got revved up. She slammed the door, too, but only after she called me a bitch.
“Oh dear, poor Brooke,” said Robin, all signs of laughter disappearing.
“Poor Brooke, nothing,” I said, filling the mugs with coffee and handing one to Robin. “You have the right to laugh.”
“I heard her come in at three last night. She must be exhausted.”
“Maybe it’s time poor Brooke thought about you a bit. Maybe you’re the one who needs special attention and care. Maybe there are more important things in this world than Brooke and her stupid career as a vacuous face on the cover of a vapid magazine.”
From the look on Robin’s face, I’d gone too far again.
It took two cups of coffee, a bit of cinnamon roll and a lot of soothing talk before she smiled again. We patched up the makeup and she gave my hand a little squeeze.
“I know it’s hard for you to be so nice and patient, Cam. Thanks.”
“Well, anyway, at least you look okay in case what’s-his-name shows up.”
Before heading back to the office, I straightened up the room.
In the process I knocked over Robin’s purse. I did my best to replace everything in some kind of order, but after a while I gave up and piled in the chewing gum packages, notes, stamps, eye shadows, pens and other stuff. At least the banana was gone.
The writing on the last note caught my eye. Rudy Wendtz, it said. Nothing else.
I looked over at Robin.
“He might not come,” she said.
“He’ll come.”
“Maybe not.”
“Even supposing he doesn’t come, which he will, you still got yourself fixed up and you look very nice and fresh and I’m sure you feel a lot more comfortable.”
I didn’t mention finding Rudy Wendtz’s name in her purse. I would ask Robin about Rudy Wendtz when the time was right. She smiled a little bit when I left.
All the way home, I thought about that note. What was it doing there? How did Robin know about Rudy? Had she known him before she got summoned to Mitzi’s suite?
* * *
The next day, there was no Alvin in the office. While getting rid of him had been my major preoccupation not too long ago, now I was bothered by his continuing, unexplained absence.
A plain brown envelope with my name typed on it lay on the floor next to the door. I picked it up and tossed it onto the desk.
Alvin hadn’t been in to pick it up. Another strike against him. Still, his absence meant I could get to the phone without pushing him out of the way.
I called Ted Beamish.
“Now?” he said. “It’s not even ten o’clock. I can’t just disappear on the taxpayers’ nickel.”
“Make up the time,” I said, trying to sound like I must be obeyed, “we’re talking someone’s mental health here.”
“I was planning on dropping in to see Robin on my lunch or after work. I was going to call first.”
“Don’t wait. Don’t call. Go now.”
After a pause, he said, “All right. I guess I can do that.”
“But first,” I said, “tell me what you found out schmoozing the girls at Robin’s office and the Food Bank and the Humane Society.”
“Well, not that much. No one at the Humane Society knew anything. They were just worried about who was looking after her cats.”
And well they should be, I thought.
“At the office, I schmoozed the girls as you suggested. They seemed to feel Robin had been under some kind of strain for about a week or so. No one knew what, she just seemed very worried and distracted.”
“For a week?”
“Thereabouts. No one’s sure. And they can’t link it to anything. But they’d been talking about it themselves even before the murder.”
“Hmm. You got a contact there now you could just call for a bit of information?”
“Sure.”
“See if you can find out if she received any calls from her sister.”
“The model?”
“The one and only.”
“She’s kind of self-focused, isn’t she? I hear it’s all me, myself and I.”
“You got it.”
“Let me think, what else,” he added. “Right, the Food Bank. I tracked down two of the other volunteers who were on with Robin last week. One of them remembers her being very distressed, very distracted. It turns out this was the night before the murder. Something happened to her that day. This person didn’t know. But she might have told someone else. A close friend.”
I shook my head. I was her closest friend, and she hadn’t confided in me. Probably because she couldn’t reach me. If only I’d been at the office when she called. If only I’d intercepted her at the Harmony before she went into Mitzi’s suite. If only…”
Ted’s voice interrupted me.
“Well? What do you think?”
“Good stuff. Well, you should head off now. Robin needs you.”
I noted a trace of resentment in his good-bye.
Job number two was to find that little twerp, Alvin, and drag him back to indentured labour where he belonged. Or set him loose and find someone who could do the job. Yes. I could fire him for deserting his post.
I ripped Alvin’s file from the drawer and found his address. While I was searching for a pen and a piece of paper on the desk, I spotted the plain brown envelope again Probably his notice, and he was too chicken to give it in person, I thought as I ripped it open. Inside was a single sheet of white bond. Sammy Dash, it said, DOB 29/03/58, no outstanding warrants. Previously convicted of possession of cannabis. Did not serve time. Several charges of assault on former girlfriend, later dropped. Suspected of involvement in cocaine traffic. Never charged.
Sammy’s address was included too. Well, well. Thanks, Merv.
When I found the pencil and paper, I copied Sammy’s address along with Alvin’s. I also cast a guilty glance at the pile of work.