The Corpse With the Golden Nose (22 page)

As we walked into the MacMillans' house, my concerns about it being too small to host a large luncheon evaporated: the part of the house visible from the street level gave way to a huge edifice. Built on stilts, the house jutted out over the edge of the cliff face, with three floors of space for entertaining, all glass-fronted, facing the lake. A swimming pool, hot tub, and multi-layered decks were set to the side of the house, and the final stairway from the bottom deck led to a wooden jetty at which two boats were moored. Not your average dinghy-type boats, but sleek white things with lots of chrome that glinted in the sun.
What a way to live!

“Hey, Colin, it's bigger on the inside, like The Doctor's
TARDIS
,” I quipped.

“That's what I said the day we moved in, but
no one
got it,” he replied. He smiled, waved, and ambled off.

Bud nodded at Colin's back as he left us. “You seem to have acquired a new puppy,” he noted. That's what we call the students who latch onto me and make it their business to follow me about the university. There's usually one in every class, and sometimes a whole string of them. It seems that I specialize in their acquisition. I don't know why.

Having arrived late, the lunch was in full swing. Everyone had clearly taken the retro-dressing theme to heart. Bud headed off to chat to the Wild West era Wisers, while I searched the knots of people to find Raj, whom I'd decided would be my target at the lunch. Finally, I spotted him, dressed as a Beatle, standing beside Serendipity, who was wearing a simple white sleeveless shift dress, with a circlet of white flowers in her hair. She looked clean, and cool, calm, and I was just a little jealous that she looked so perfect.

Luckily, I was saved from having any less charitable thoughts about Serendipity by the bustling arrival of Lizzie Jackson.

“Good to see you. How are you? Long time no see,” she grinned. “Hey, you look great. Boy, that dress is just your size, Cait. Wherever did you find it?” She was almost vibrating with excitement.

I smiled politely as I replied, “Ellen rustled it up for me. Apparently it was her mother's. Bud and I didn't know about the dressing up thing, so we were lucky that Ellen had some clothes we could borrow.”

Lizzie grimaced and said, “Ah, have you been to Ellen's apartment?”

I replied, “Yes. Have you ever visited there?”

She peered through her round glasses with eyes that became just as round. “Hmm,” she nodded. “She came to me about four years ago and asked for some advice about it. You know, the hoarding. Said she'd found someone she wanted to ‘make space for' in her life and that she knew she'd have to make some
real
space for them too. Back then she was quite open-minded about such things, and we talked a great deal. I even showed her some techniques for meditation and self-hypnosis that I thought might help her.”

“Something like wakeful dreaming?” I asked.

Lizzie looked both taken aback and delighted. “Why yes, that sort of thing, but what's a marketing person like you know about my field?”

Damn and blast—I'd forgotten my cover!

“I once helped promote a line of self-help books, and one of them was about mental reorganization,” I lied.

“Ah yes, it's an area where folks
can
help themselves much more than they think. Ellen and I had a few sessions together, and she seemed to take to it like a duck to water. Surprisingly, she has a talent for using words to calm. I even thought she might be about to join us in the Faceting fold, but something happened. I don't think that whatever relationship she was hoping for came to anything, and she became, well, as you see her now. Sometimes she's quite scathing about our approach to life. You think she'd have let it go by now. But hey, that was her problem all along.”

I nodded. “Is the food good?”

“Oh yes,” she replied. “Sheri's totally onboard with our views on food, and she's had help for this.” Lizzie nodded in the general direction of the food-service tables as she spoke. “We've loaned her Ray from the restaurant to oversee the food prep, and she's got some local girls to help with the serving and clearing. I think it's a great idea to go back to some of those old favorites we used to enjoy in decades gone by. Of course, I love what Ray does with food at our place nowadays, but, sometimes, it's nice to bump into an old friend on a plate, right?” She laughed as she added, “You should go see. It's quite a spread.”

“I will,” I replied quickly, seeing a chance to escape, and I waved my farewell as I moved away.

As I wandered across the spacious, high-ceilinged room toward the food, I could see that every finish in the MacMillan home was about as high-end as it gets. On the laden tables I spotted aspic-encased salmon, slices of aubergine topped with tomato and parmesan, prawn cocktails, and even a row of fondue pots: all very retro.

“Hey, have one of these!” Colin appeared in front of me holding a tall glass full of an almost fluorescent orange fluid. A slice of orange and a maraschino cherry speared onto a little pink umbrella was balanced on its edge. “It's called a Harvey Wallbanger, Mom says. Looks horrible, but everyone's drinking them. It's this, or sangria. And that's got fruit actually floating in it.” He wrinkled his nose.

As he pushed the glass under my nose, I caught a whiff of Galliano and maraschino cherry, and it all came back to me: one too many of that exact cocktail during a friend's birthday party in Swansea almost thirty years ago. I began to gag. I pushed the glass away as politely as I could. “Could I have sangria instead?” I asked, praying my saliva glands would calm down. “But first, the loo?” Colin pointed me in the right direction.
Keep calm, Cait. Don't go throwing up just because of your perfect memory.

Locking the loo door behind me, I took some deep breaths and ran cold water over my wrists. I patted my neck with dampened loo paper, and finally managed to think of enough things opposite to vomit inducing to calm my stomach: sea air, freshly cut grass, sunlight dappling through trees onto springy undergrowth. All freeing, cleansing images. It usually works.

Eventually, I managed to calm my gag reflex, and I took a moment to gather my thoughts. I had to get out there, find Raj, again, and get him to open up to me, a complete stranger.
Easy!
But first, a smoke. I'd have to ask where I could light up.

Peering out around the bathroom door, I spotted our hostess, who was dressed in a chequered, sleeveless dress that I suspected was of late '60s, early '70s vintage. I made a beeline for her, as she fluttered her way between guests.

“Hi Sheri, nice dress,” I opened.

“Thanks. Carol Brady did such a good job with all those children, don't you think?”

Ah, the
Brady Bunch
. Right.

“Absolutely,” I replied, like a good little guest. “Wonderful spread,” I added, meaning it.

“Thanks,” replied Sheri. “It's not exactly gourmet, but it is all fresh, local, organic, and peanut-free, because of Colin, of course,” she replied, looking over my shoulder at the table traffic. “I just hope there's enough of everything.”

“Oh, I'm sure there will be,” I replied. There seemed to be enough to feed a small army. “Is Colin allergic to peanuts, then?” I ventured.

“Yes. Always has been. It's not so bad these days, it's much better understood. In fact so many children have the same problem that his school is peanut-free now.”

“It must be tough to eat out,” I observed.

“Well, it sure used to be, but there are a lot of places now that offer peanut-free choices. SoulVineFineDine, for one, and Faceting for Life, for another. They're both totally peanut-free restaurants. Even Pat, this morning, made sure everything was safe. He's thoughtful like that. Well, with both Serendipity
and
Colin there, he
would
make special effort, of course.”

“Serendipity's allergic too?” I replied, trying to sound interested.
Why am I talking about this—I want to know where to smoke!

“Oh yes, that's why she became interested in food, I believe. She's doing some very interesting things with peanut-free recipes for catering companies.”

“Right. She mentioned something to me last night about a range of sauces she's working on, though I didn't realize they were peanut-free because she has allergies.”
Come on Cait—get to the point!

“Peanut-free, gluten-free, and preservative-free organic sauces. Oh, they're excellent. She had Colin and myself over to do some tastings and even
he
liked them, which is saying something. I worry about him so, you know. He seems to live in his own little world, all those weird fantasy things he likes.” She smiled indulgently at the thought of her son.

“Don't worry. It's
normal
. And all it means is that he's interested in history, mythology, and nice, old-fashioned tales of good versus evil, where a hero is needed. A friend of mine at the university has had a very fulfilling career as a professor of comparative mythologies, and he's written lots of research papers about the invention of mythologies in science fiction. Colin will be just fine. He's intelligent, he's articulate, he's observant and he's pretty fit, too, with all that cycling he does. Which isn't something you can say about all seventeen-year-olds these days.”

By now, Sheri was looking much brighter.
Thank heavens, now I can make my break for freedom!

“Speaking of Colin,” I added, “I asked him to get me a drink, which I should collect from him. I wonder if there was anywhere I might be allowed to smoke?”

Sheri smiled. “The middle and bottom decks are the smoking ones. It's where you'll find Rob, no doubt, holding court in the sunshine. A friend of his from West Kelowna hitched a ride across the lake with the Souls on their boat. They might still be down at the pier. At least, I'm guessing that's where he is, because I haven't seen him for ages.”

Luckily, I spied Raj Pinder near the exit. I managed to grab a glass of sangria, then made eye contact with Bud long enough to make smoking motions to him as I pointed to the decks.

“Just the man,” I said, as I caught Raj by the arm and firmly steered him in the direction I wanted to go. He looked surprised, but didn't object as I asked, “Could you spare a few minutes?”

“Okey dokey,” he replied, smiling. He followed me as I grasped the handrail of the deck staircase and tried to not look down the cliffside beneath me. “Let me take that,” he said, grabbing my drink.

“
Such
a gent,” I replied, not taking my eyes off the steps.

“Well,
you're
such a lady,” he responded, which might have made me smile if I hadn't been balancing on kitten heels, on wooden steps, on the side of a cliff. Reaching the deck was a relief, and I plopped into a patio chair, reached into my purse and lit a cigarette. It took about three seconds. I glugged my drink,
then
I gave my attention to my escort.

“You alright there, Cait?” he asked. I nodded, puffing. “Only, you don't look too good. Is it the heights that get you?” I nodded, still puffing. “Aye, poor old Annette were much the same. Mind you, she started to come over all queer for no reason at all toward the end. Flat ground or no, she'd get a look about her that said she weren't feeling well. Maybe that's how depression can take you, I dunno.”

“You know Raj, you're a lovely chap. I saw the way you looked at Ellen when she said last night that Bud had come to help her look into who might have killed her sister.” Raj opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him. “I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions about Annette.” Raj was beginning to look alarmed. Frankly, I didn't care. I just wanted to get on with it.

Putting all niceties aside, I said, “Look, it's obvious to me that you and Serendipity are a couple, right?”

Raj nodded, “Well . . . yes, but
please
don't say owt. Her parents would go
berserk
. Well, her mother would, any road. It's awkward. You saw her last night. There's nowt can quiet that woman when she wants summat.” His Yorkshire accent was oddly calming.

“And what about Annette? Did you and she have a relationship?” I was pretty sure I knew the answer, but I asked anyway.

“What makes you say that?” Raj's expression signaled even more alarm.

“Raj, you're an attractive, single man. You and Annette traveled to a lot of the same places, for several years, had a huge amount in common, and she, too, was single, and not unattractive. It's not beyond the realm of reason to imagine you two getting together, though I'm guessing that the fact that you were competitors in the world of wine might have made it difficult to be open about it.” I kept my voice low. I wasn't sure how sound might carry against the cliff.

Raj finally nodded. “Okay, but
please
don't say owt about that, neither.” He drew close to me and whispered. “
No one
knows except Serendipity. I told her, but no one else. It weren't nothing big, just a bit of a fling that didn't last long, just two events really, one in California, one in Niagara. And that were it. We couldn't cope with the sneaking about back here and the fact that we couldn't talk about owt we wanted to. I were at Sammy's place back then, of course, and there's stuff as goes on in a winery that you can't talk about to the competition. We agreed, it weren't worth it. We broke it off. About six or seven weeks before she died. And, no, I didn't break her heart. I know that 'cos she and I talked it through.”

“Is that why she left you the winery in her will, do you think?”
Plod on with it, Cait. You might not get him alone again. Read him.

“Oh, Gawd. I never expected that, it were a right surprise. I dunno what she were thinking. Floored me. I told Ellen she should argue her case with the lawyers. But no, she says she won't. I feel terrible about it, but there's nowt I can do. It's a brilliant chance for me, but to get it that way? Terrible. I mean, like I said, it weren't nothing serious. Why would she do it? Lovely girl,
woman
, but
that
?”