The Cooperman Variation

TWENTY-SIX

After lunch, I dropped around to the NTC building on University Avenue. I got no flack from Security when I went past the desk. Later, I found out that Vic Vernon, the egomaniacal talk-show host, had been questioned by a security guard the night before, and instead of calling upstairs for help, he went home to bed and let everybody else in the studio tear their hair out. I hope that it’s the beginning of a new era: enlightened security.

Sally was there and gave me a big hug when I came up to her desk. She showed me the write-up of the Island adventure in the morning paper. There wasn’t a word about first wills or even second ones. Devlin was still described as “missing, and believed drowned.” Poetic justice for the architect of Dermot Keogh’s death. Sally had a million questions, which I dodged or answered on a random basis.

“Cooperman! Get in here!” It was Vanessa, of course, looking like a spread in Vogue. She settled me on the couch and came over where she could watch me, and where, incidentally, I could watch her. “Okay, give me the dirt. You owe me that much.”

I gave her a short rundown of who did what to whom and saved the thunderbolt until the end. “Of course, Vanessa, now there will be no Dermot Keogh Hall. At least, there won’t be one that was foreseen in Dermot’s last will and testament. Maybe there are some legacies you can snag from the will when they get a copy from the hard drive in Ed Patel’s law office in Bracebridge. But I would be surprised if Keogh didn’t give the works to charity. Maybe he endowed a palliative care unit at a hospital or a puppy farm to look after stray, unwanted dogs. You never know with that guy.”

“Benny, you owe me a better explanation than this! Are you telling me that my life has never been in danger? Were you leading me on all this time just to bleed more money from me? My lawyer’s not going to like this.”

“Never mind your lawyer, Stella. I don’t think you’re going to like this. The plain fact is, dear heart, the plain fact is that this case wasn’t about you at all. You were a smoke-screen, a red herring.”

“You won’t get me to believe that in a thousand years.”

“Nevertheless.” Vanessa tried to hide the kick to her vanity by taking it out on me. An offensive is always a good play when you’ve been taken off guard.

“You’re in league with the rest of them.”

“Your pills are in your top drawer.” She started to open it, then slammed it shut again.

“Vanessa, I was always as up front with you as you were with me. Remember the first day in my office, when you told me you never owned a gun?”

“You’re a cheat and a liar, Benny. You should be disbarred.”

“Stella, how can you accuse me like that? Me, a friend from Grantham Collegiate Institute and Vocational School.”

“Stop calling me that! I ought to fire you right now.”

“But I’m not even on the payroll any more. You fired me already. I’m sure that Staff Sergeant Sykes-”

“You’re still on salary until Saturday. I changed my mind. But I’m moving you out of here. Hy Newman needs your space. Did I tell you about that?” I raised a surprised eyebrow while she told me about what I’d seen at the press reception. “I think that bringing Hy back was a stroke of genius, don’t you? He’ll save me hours a week. Some days I know I earn my pay. I may never have to go into a studio again. What bliss!”

“Great.”

“Now what are you going to do?”

“I think I’m due for a holiday.”

“Taking off to Dittrick Lake or back to Muskoka?”

“I would like to go back to Muskoka some day. Maybe you’ll rent me your cottage. But right now I think I’m heading for Paris. Paris will be a rest cure after looking out for you, Vanessa.” I didn’t think it would be polite to mention that I had hopes of seeing my own Anna Abraham in Paris. I really can keep some things to myself.

“I’ll bet you’re glad to be leaving here. Leave the cleaning up to others.”

“They were doing it before I came to Toronto, Stella.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“You have my Grantham address, right?”

“Sally has it. Was it all work, Benny? We did have some fun, didn’t we?” I looked over at Vanessa Moss in her big corner office, sitting with her lovely legs crossed. I thought of the last ten days at out-of-town rates. I thought of Dermot Keogh, Rankin, Devlin. I thought of Renata Sartori, whose death had brought me to Toronto.

“Didn’t we have some fun?” Vanessa repeated. I didn’t know how to answer that one.

Anna’s face moved through my head, reminding me of all I wanted to forget. Like I said in the beginning, I should have seen the writing on the wall.

“It was more than fun, Stella. It was an education.”