Indiana Pulcinella

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 4
chapter 16

Calgary Lawyer Donates to Red Cross

The Red Cross has received a belated Christmas gift by way of a million-dollar donation from Calgary lawyer Joseph Lane.

Red Cross spokesperson Mary Latourneau says, “This gift and other recent donations will go a long way toward helping us provide for refugees around the globe. I would like to thank Mr. Joseph Lane for his very generous donation.” The role of philanthropist is new to Lane, and he wears it well.

When contacted about his extraordinary generosity, Lane said, “The Red Cross does admirable work all over the world. My family has done very well by working and living in Calgary. It’s time for us to give back.”

Letourneau says, “January and February are often slow months for us. This year we have been overwhelmed by the generosity of Albertans.”

“Have you got both kits together for Saturday night?” Cori sipped a cappuccino. The morning light reflected off the white cupboards and the white arabescato corchia marble countertop in their kitchen. She tucked in the top of her white robe.

“I’ll do that tonight. First I need to pick up some new gloves and booties. I did check the ammunition. We’ve got plenty. I’ll be able to pick up some more on the drive south.” Andrew wore his grey Meyer pants and blue tailor-made shirt. He fiddled with the stainless-steel cappuccino machine. “Are the passports ready?” He stepped sideways, opening the fridge door. The milk carton was in the door above two plastic blood bags. He grabbed the milk, closing the door with his foot.

Cori nodded. “I’ve got to get an outfit for Saturday’s party, especially those shoes. Then I’m off to work.”

“Another protégé to instruct?” Andrew turned, smiling at her.

Her eyes sparkled as she set her cup down. “If the opportunity presents itself.”

“Want me to leave a cheque for Roza?”

Cori shook her head, winking. “Payday isn’t until next Monday. We get free maid service this month.”

Lane and Nigel parked down the street from the Pierce home. Nestled under the limbs of a spruce tree, they had a clear view of the two-storey infill with its river rock front, copper pillars, peaked roofs, and oval windows. The combined effect gave the impression that the home was afloat on a white prairie sea.

“You enjoying going back to school?” Nigel worked the heat dials of the white Jeep as he sat in the passenger seat. It appeared impossible to find a comfortable temperature. He unzipped his jacket, then rolled down the window.

“To tell you the truth, it’s been fascinating. The guy’s teaching about the psychology of bullying, then exhibits the same aggressive behaviours he describes in his lectures. And he appears to be totally unaware of the contradiction.” Lane saw the light come on at the front of the three-car garage.

“Sounds like my dad. He saw himself as being fair minded and logical. His behaviour was the opposite.” Nigel zipped up his coat.

Now’s the time to ask. “I got an interesting call last night while Matt and I were walking the dog.”

Nigel took his gloves off. “Oh?”

“My brother phoned to ask why I was messing around with his and Efram Milton’s money.”

Nigel pulled on his toque. “You’re kidding.”

There was a slight intake of breath before he answered and a bit of a quiver in his voice. “He was pretty agitated.”

“Money often gets people motivated.”

“I said I didn’t know what he was talking about.” Lane watched as the garage door opened.

“Keep in touch.” Nigel climbed out, shut the door, and walked back to a nondescript Chevy SUV.

Your non-answers are answers, Nigel.

Lane looked through the glass at the wood fire. A chef in a white coat hefted a wooden paddle, slipping it under a pizza inside the oven, removing it, and sliding it onto a plate. Then he used the paddle to check under a second pizza. The detective’s eyes moved to take in the poster-sized black- and-white photographs on the walls. People were frozen in the day-to-day activities of Naples. In one, a man kissed a woman on the cheek. Her eyes were not amused.

“Lane? How was work today?” Lane turned to face Dan, who sat on the white bench holding a sleeping Indiana.

You look tired. “I spent the day sitting for the most part.” Surveillance is tedious in the extreme.

“Here, let me hold him.” Alex sat between Lane and Matt. She had insisted they all go out for supper.

Dan looked at Christine, who nodded. He lifted the baby over the table. Arthur put his hand underneath just in case. Alex tucked Indiana in the crook of her left elbow, caressing his cheek with her knuckles.

The waiter escorted a couple to a nearby table. The couple glanced, smiling at the baby. Five pairs of adult eyes assaulted them. Their friendly smiles straight-lined and the couple looked away.

Alex asked, “Can we relax? You told me this was the best pizza place in town. How about we just enjoy a night out? And Matt, your black eye is scaring people.”

Dan smiled. “It does look remarkably sinister.”

Christine laughed. “Matt will scare the monsters away from Indy’s closet.”

Two waiters dressed in white shirts and black pants arrived with pizzas. “Quattro stagioni?” Dan raised his hand. The thin-crust pizza was placed before him. He inhaled, rolling his eyes with pleasure.

“Romana?”

“Please.” Lane pointed at the place setting in front of him.

“What are those things?” Alex nodded at Lane’s pizza.

“Anchovies.” He cut a pie-shaped slice, waiting for the inevitable response.

“What?” Alex grimaced.

“Tiny stinky fishies.” Christine shook her head.

A second round of pizzas arrived, followed by Matt’s calzone. He got busy cutting up Alex’s pizza for her.

Alex looked at the dark-haired waiter. “What does pulcinella mean?”

The waiter smiled as if he’d been waiting for someone to ask. “A funny guy who makes people laugh.”

Indiana smiled. Alex looked down at him, pointing. “He’s our funny guy. I’ve already written about him on my blog.”

Lane had been inhaling the scent of tomato sauce, oregano, and basil. He suddenly looked up, eyes wide. He stared blankly at the waiter, who asked, “Is there a problem with the pizza, sir?”

“No, he’s just had an epiphany. Or an orgasm. Sometimes it’s hard to tell with him.” Arthur rolled up a wedge of pizza and closed his eyes, chewing then covering his mouth with his open left hand. “Thank you, Alex! This was a wonderful idea.”

The waiter’s eyebrows met in the middle; then he rushed away.