House Report Read online

  ‘Stop this sensitive-guy stuff and let’s go upstairs. I feel like listening to some music,’ I said, heading up the stairs.

  ‘You are such a cynic,’ he said.

  ‘Turn the lights off on your way up,’ I called from upstairs.

  ‘I’m just going to change.’

  That was the one concession I had allowed him. He could keep one toothbrush, one razor, and one sweatsuit at my place. Anything else was more of a commitment than I’m willing to make. Anything less would be unfair to him.

  ‘What do you feel like listening to?’ I yelled over the loft.

  ‘How about the Eagles?’

  I popped Elton John in and climbed into bed. He came upstairs with just his sweatpants on. Sometimes Cam can be the stereotypical blue-collar male and it usually really turns me on. The accountant I had dated only succeeded in looking half dressed when he had his shirt off, but Cam looked like he was ready to go out and slay dragons.

  ‘Interesting choice of music.’

  ‘I knew you didn’t really want to listen to the Eagles,’ I said.

  ‘This is really nice,’ he said, noticing the candles I had lit. ‘You definitely know how to create a mood.’

  ‘Cam . . .’

  ‘Yeah?’ He was laying his clothes neatly over the chair. I saw a damp spot on his shirt where he had already sponged off the stain.

  ‘I knew the man who died. I didn’t recognize him last night, because he had a beard. But I knew him.’

  ‘Oh, Katie.’ He climbed into bed and hugged me. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I didn’t know him well. It’s just so weird to think that I even knew him at all.’

  ‘Did you talk to the police?’

  ‘Yes, they met me at my office this afternoon and questioned me.’

  I reached over for the ashtray to put my cigarette out. Cam piled some pillows behind him and sat up.

  ‘You going to tell me about it?’

  I grabbed my tea and lit another cigarette. I propped myself against the wall.

  ‘Well, you know I used to volunteer with the Symphony?’ He nodded and I continued. ‘There was this other woman there. It was her first time volunteering and we started on the same day, so we kind of stuck to each other. We went out for coffee a couple of times. Anyway, she works as an usher now. Gladys Reynolds. Do you know her?’

  ‘Everyone knows her,’ Cam said as he drank his beer.

  ‘What?’

  ‘She has a bit of a reputation for hitting on all the guys,’ he explained.

  ‘Did she hit on you?’

  ‘Katie, a gentleman never tells,’ Cam laughed.

  ‘She did! When? Before you started seeing me, or after,’ I asked, stabbing the cigarette into the ashtray.

  ‘Before,’ he confessed.

  ‘While you were still married?’

  ‘She said she knew I was married, but all she wanted was to have sex with me. No strings attached.’

  ‘So? Did you?’ I demanded, staring Cam straight in the eyes.

  ‘Did I what?’ he asked.

  ‘Cam, you know exactly what I mean.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. When I was married, I was faithful,’ Cam admitted.

  ‘Did she leave you alone after that?’

  ‘Katie, can we get back to your story?’

  ‘OK, OK. Well, she hasn’t changed much. Turns out, back then she was married. But she and her husband hated each other and were only staying together because of their dogs. The kids were already grown-up and in university, but they couldn’t agree on who would get the dogs. Meanwhile, they basically lived separate lives. In the years they had that living arrangement, she never dated anyone.’

  ‘Are we talking about the same woman?’ Cam asked.

  ‘Yes. Well she reached some sort of turning point. A couple of weeks after I met her, she told me she had met this very young usher and she really wanted to sleep with him. She felt it was time to break free, and apparently she was really turned on by the idea of sleeping with someone who was younger than her youngest child.’

  ‘And you were friends with this woman?’

  ‘We weren’t close friends. I think I liked to go out with her just to hear what she had been up to.’

  ‘Is there more?’ he asked.

  ‘Lots,’ I said. If this wasn’t such a gruesome situation, it would be funny.

  ‘Let me get another beer first. Do you want anything?’ Cam asked, getting up off the bed.

  ‘More tea?’ I asked, handing him my mug.

  ‘Certainly,’ he called as he went downstairs and turned the kettle on. I stood up and leaned over the half wall.

  ‘So she ended up sleeping with this very young man,’ I said, trying to get back on topic.

  ‘How old was she at the time?’ Cam stood in the kitchen, looking up at me, while he waited for the water to boil.

  ‘Fifty-five,’ I said.

  ‘That’s sick,’ he said. ‘It reminds me of that movie with Jacqueline Bisset and Candice Bergen, where Jackie sleeps with Candice’s son.’

  ‘Yes it was sick,’ I agreed. ‘But then so were the bartender, the ticket taker, coat-check attendant and the security guard; all of whom were under twenty-five years old. I’m kind of surprised that she hit on an old guy like you.’

  ‘Oh, you’re funny, Katie.’

  ‘So the rumour has it she slept with every man under twenty-five and then a few women.’

  Cam came back upstairs with the drinks. ‘Women?’ he asked.

  ‘She met a gay performance artist and decided that gay was beautiful. So she went through a few of the women who work in the building before switching back to men.’

  ‘I thought I’d heard it all.’

  ‘Cam, this gets better yet.’

  He lit a cigarette and offered me another one.

  ‘After she had dated several of these boys, we were here one night, having coffee. The phone rang at about midnight and it was her husband calling. I still don’t know how he got this number. He told Gladys that there was an emergency at home and she’d better get back right away. She left in a panic and I told her to call me if she needed anything.’

  ‘Well . . .’

  ‘Well, at about three a.m. there was a pounding on my door and it was Gladys. She said her husband knew everything. He had names and dates and places of everyone she had slept with. And she accused me of telling him.’

  ‘Did you?’ Cam asked hesitantly.

  ‘Of course not. I would never interfere in anyone’s life like that. So Gladys took off, went to the house of every man she had been with and accused them of telling her husband.’

  ‘At three in the morning?’

  ‘Uh huh.’

  ‘That’s every man’s nightmare come true. Ever seen Fatal Attraction?’

  ‘Yeah, well that was Gladys. We had coffee the next day. She said she never found out who told her husband. He went straight to his lawyer and was drawing up divorce papers and wanted to have her removed from the house. It was starting to get really messy. I don’t think she ever believed that it wasn’t me who told him.’

  ‘Why?’

  I paused and thought about Gladys for a minute while I took a sip of tea. ‘She never said another word to me. I ran into her a couple of times after that and she just waved and kept on going.’

  ‘I am so glad I never got involved with her,’ he said with relief in his voice.

  ‘Well, at this point, I wish I could say the same thing. It was her ex-husband who was murdered.’

  ‘Oh shit. And you had met him?’

  ‘Once. I had offered Gladys a ride to work and when I picked her up, he was at home.’

  ‘Wow. Did you tell all this to the police?’ he asked, amazed.

  ‘Without all the embellishments. But I told them the story.’

  ‘What did they have to say?’

  ‘Just thank you and that they might need to question me further, so to keep them notified if I was planning on going anywhe
re.’

  ‘This is just like the movies,’ he laughed. ‘Are you a suspect?’

  ‘Cam, I am not having fun being involved in this. I would have preferred having him die at the opera and then I could just gossip about it like everyone else.’

  ‘So how did the show go tonight?’

  ‘Not as bad as I imagined. There was some press around and a few gawkers. The patrons were certainly there early, though. I think everyone wanted to get a good look around. Maybe I should have left the police tape up. We’re sold out for the next week.’

  ‘The headlines are sure helping.’

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to see the papers,’ I said.

  ‘Front page of the Herald; “Foothills Stage Network presents Much Ado About Something”.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll come up with every theatre pun ever invented.’

  ‘The Sun was great too; “Foothills Stage Network’s Shakespeare is slaying them in the aisles”.’

  ‘Oh, that’s bad. How about you? Did you account for every screw and nail in the building?’ I asked.

  ‘I only made it halfway through the key count. Tomorrow the guys start with the equipment inventory and security is going to handle checking all the employees’ keys. I imagine we’ll be pretty busy for a week at least.’

  ‘I don’t envy you,’ I said.

  ‘Well, I’m off for the next four days, so I am not even going to think about it until Wednesday,’ he said.

  ‘I would say you are very lucky the way your days off happened to fall.’

  ‘I’ll consider myself lucky if I actually get through these days off. I have a funny feeling that Lazlo may be calling me in for some overtime.’

  ‘So don’t answer the phone,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t intend to.’ We sat in silence for a few minutes and listened to the music. ‘The Eagles sound better than ever,’ he laughed.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t feel like the Eagles.’

  ‘Why did you ask me then?’

  ‘You might have said Elton John, and I was trying to be nice.’

  ‘So what now?’ he asked.

  ‘About the music or the murder?’

  ‘The murder.’

  ‘I go to work, try to act normal, and hope this thing is figured out quickly so all the excitement dies down.’

  ‘And on Monday?’

  ‘What’s Monday?’ I asked.

  ‘Your day off. Will you go to Banff with me?’ Cam asked, rolling over and holding me close.

  ‘It’s too crowded,’ I said.

  ‘We’ll go to the hot springs. Have dinner. Go for a walk. You used to love going to Banff.’

  ‘I still do.’

  ‘So, you want to go?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said as I relaxed and leaned back against him.

  ‘Why don’t you take tomorrow off and we’ll stay overnight?’ he asked.

  ‘I can’t. I just can’t leave someone else in charge with all this going on.’

  ‘I know. I figured you’d say that. But you can’t blame a guy for trying.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what I will do.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ll go to a movie with you tomorrow afternoon. I might even neck with you if we can sit in the back row.’

  ‘Not at the Plex,’ he said.

  ‘No. We’ll go somewhere else, even if we have to pay.’

  ‘Deal. How about blowing out those candles so we can get some sleep?’

  ‘How about a game of backgammon first?’

  ‘Katie, it’s late and I want to go jogging in the morning.’

  ‘Cam, it’s already morning. Skip jogging for one day?’ I whined and tried batting my eyelashes.

  ‘How about playing backgammon now and you jog with me tomorrow afternoon?’

  ‘I’ll blow out the candles,’ I said.

  ‘Night, Katie.’

  ‘Night Cam,’ I murmured as I pulled the quilt up around us and snuggled close to him.

  ‘Why do I never win with you?’ I whispered.

  Cam didn’t answer, but I felt him brush my hair from my neck and kiss me just in the hollow below my ear.

  ‘I know a way where we both could win,’ he finally replied.

  ‘I thought you were tired.’ It was only a half-hearted protest.

  ‘Too tired to argue, not to tired to make up.’ He had moved down to my shoulder.

  ‘We haven’t had a fight.’

  ‘We will.’

  ‘So this is like making up in advance?’ I asked.

  ‘Don’t you think that’s a good idea?’

  ‘I think it’s a wonderful idea.’

  >SATURDAY

  Cam and I slept until noon and then went out for brunch at Victoria’s on the new and improved Seventeenth Avenue. The city is redoing all the old run-down areas into trendy new shopping and eating districts, and Seventeenth Avenue was the latest. I used to live in this area, not all that long ago, but I barely recognize it now. Now it’s just another area of town that I can’t afford to shop in.

  We saw a great movie at the Globe Theatre, which was my favourite movie theatre. Instead of taking a classic old theatre and closing it down, instead it has been renovated, keeping the style and romance, but updating the technology. We chose to see the movie playing in the upstairs theatre and sat in the back row of the balcony, holding hands like two kids. We also managed to go all day without any sort of argument. My mood was considerably brighter by the time he dropped me off at the Plex.

  I waved goodbye as Cam drove his pride and joy down the street. I was pretty sure he would take advantage of this wonderful sunny fall day and cruise for a while, showing off his wheels, rather than going home. I walked to Grounds Zero and jumped up on my usual stool at the end of the counter. Gus started making my cappuccino before I had a chance to order. I pulled a cigarette out of my pocket, leaned over the counter to grab a book of matches from his stash, and waited for him to slide my coffee across the counter to me.

  ‘Kate, I’m disappointed in you,’ Gus said, sprinkling chocolate on top of the cappuccino.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘You knew this Peter Reynolds and I had to find out from someone else.’

  ‘How the hell did you find that out? There are only three other people who know. You’re amazing, Gus.’ I took the lid off my coffee and took a sip. ‘Have you got a video camera hooked up in my office or something?’

  ‘No, I just know the right questions to ask the right people. And how to listen to the answers,’ he said as he wiped down the counter.

  ‘More like you’re a snake in the grass,’ I said. I pulled some money out of my wallet and slid it across the counter to him. ‘Have you given the police the name of your source, or is this your own private investigation?’

  ‘Kate, my sources would dry up if I told the police about them. Then what kind of fun would this job be, if I couldn’t find out what was going on? You think I like making cappuccino and sandwiches all day long?’

  ‘So are you going to tell me who’s talking?’ I asked.

  ‘No way, Kate. Just think of me like a doctor or a lawyer. Anything you say to me is totally confidential.’

  ‘I’ll think of you like the nosy old cappuccino slinger that you are,’ I joked.

  ‘Oh, that hurts. I don’t consider myself anywhere near old yet,’ Gus said as he took my money to the cash register. He handed me some coins back and I tossed them into my pocket. Laundry money.

  ‘Thanks Gus, I’ll remember to call you before the police next time I find something out.’

  ‘All joking aside, Kate, I think this is an inside job.’

  ‘You mean somebody who works at the Plex is responsible for the murder? You’ve got to be kidding!’

  ‘Think about it. Who could get into the maintenance department and get a nail gun? How many locked doors are there between your theatre and equipment storage? You think a member of the public could get i
n there? Nope, someone with a set of keys did this.’

  ‘Gus, I think you’re crazy, but I’ll tell you what. I’ll keep my ears open, you keep your ears open, and we’ll compare notes tomorrow. Maybe we can catch the murderer before the police do.’ I threw my bag over my shoulder and stood up.

  ‘Just watch your back, Kate. If this person has keys, you’re not safe either.’

  ‘Oh, Gus, stop your worrying. I’m not in any danger; I just found the guy.’ I put the lid on my coffee and headed for the door. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  Like the reformed girl that I was, I walked the half block to the stage door and stopped at the security desk to sign in. The little glass cubicle that made up the security office was filled with guards. It looked like they had called in reinforcements since the night of the murder. Lazlo was in the back corner, giving orders, checking through logbooks, and driving everyone crazy. Nick Grey, one of the three security supervisors, sat at the desk, looking decidedly frazzled as I approached.

  Nick had been at the Plex since it opened, though it wasn’t his first choice of careers. He had been applying to the police department for a long time, but had to earn a living in the meantime. So he worked at the Plex, taking orders from the Spaz and supervising an ever-changing cast of rent-a-dicks.

  ‘How’s it going?’ I asked him as I signed the book.

  ‘It’s been a long weekend,’ he said, lowering his voice so the Spaz wouldn’t hear him. ‘Next time you find a stiff, could you report it on somebody else’s shift?’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ I promised, then headed off toward my office. Nick buzzed me through the first door, which was easier than trying to find the right key, and I headed off down Tin Pan Alley.

  All the backstage corridors are named alleys. Someone had thought it would be easier to find their way around if these anonymous concrete corridors were given names. This is just another of the big plans that hadn’t worked out, since you can’t tell one alley from the next. You can always tell when a new play is in rehearsal because the technical staff run long lines of coloured gaffer tape down the corridors that lead from the stage door to the theatre and rehearsal halls. If this isn’t done, we can spend hours looking for actors who have taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up stuck behind a locked door.