The Brutal Heart Read online

  “So, are you sporting a Monaghan for PM button?”

  “Not yet,” I said.

  “Got anything more?”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s a fair start. Keep working on the Avilia-Brodnitz murders.”

  “I thought I was working on a program about women in politics.”

  “Ginny Monaghan’s a woman in politics,” Jill said. “Boy, talk about a role model. Ginny’s ex-husband threatens to derail her career, so his girlfriend gets pushed off a balcony and he gets a kitchen knife in the heart. Who says women aren’t as tough as men?”

  I rang off, dove into the pool, and started doing laps. On days as sunny and warm as this one, I often longed for my old outdoor pool, sometimes so much that I went over to Mieka’s and swam there. Today I was happy to be cut off from the world – safe in my house. I was still swimming when Zack came home. “Want some company?” he said.

  “I’d love some,” I said.

  In a few minutes, he was back, wearing trunks. He lowered himself onto the steps that led into the pool, eased in, and sighed with pleasure. “God, this feels good,” he said. “And necessary. I had fucking leg spasms this morning.”

  “Because we haven’t been doing this enough,” I said.

  “There’s a lot of things we haven’t been doing enough,” Zack said. We swam in companionable silence. After half an hour, Zack said. “Time to go. I’ve got to stop by the office before I go to court.”

  “What about lunch?”

  “I’ll grab something.” He moved towards the stairs and started pushing himself out of the pool. I climbed out too. Zack frowned. “Hey, you don’t have to stop. Stay in. Take it easy.”

  “I want to watch you towel off.”

  He grinned. “That means I get to watch too.”

  We showered and then went to our room to dress. “Jill called this morning,” I said. “NationTV wants me to do something on Ginny Monaghan.”

  Zack shook his head. “Could you give this one a pass?”

  “I already have,” I said. “I told Jill that you’re representing Ginny. She understands the problem. We did, however, agree to some selective information sharing.”

  Zack raised an eyebrow. “Did you get anything good?”

  “The media are working on the link between Jason’s murder and Cristal Avilia’s.”

  Zack stopped drying his head. “And?”

  “Jill floated a scenario that Ginny killed them both because she was angry about his association with a hooker.”

  Zack snorted. “Jeez, the stuff that’s out there, eh? Well, here’s some info that’s not for sharing. When I got to the Brodnitz house, Ginny wasn’t alone with the deceased. Margot was with her.”

  I poured some lotion into my hand and rubbed it on Zack’s back. There were some worrying abrasions there – pressure sores – too much time in the chair and not enough time taking care of skin. I didn’t say anything, but when Zack flinched the first time I touched a raw spot, I went into his bathroom for the Polysporin and dabbed some on the abrasions. “So, what was Margot doing there?” I said.

  “Hovering,” Zack said. “When it comes to her clients, Margot’s part mother hen, part pit bull.”

  “That’s an interesting image,” I said.

  “Accurate too,” Zack said. “Margot’s a good person to have on your side. She’s protective and she doesn’t back away from a fight. According to Margot, the first she’d heard about Jason’s news conference was on Canada This Morning. Of course, Margot being Margot called him and told him not to do anything till he’d talked to her.”

  “So Margot talked to Jason today,” I said.

  “Don’t I wish? He didn’t answer his phone. Margot left a voice mail. At that point, as far as she was concerned, Jason was just an ex-client who was about to do something stupid. She wanted to talk to him, but he wasn’t at the top of her list. She had appointments with clients who were racking up billable hours. His news conference wasn’t until midafternoon. She thought she had plenty of time.”

  “But she didn’t.”

  “No. She tried calling him a couple more times, then she assumed he just wasn’t answering his phone, so she went to his house.”

  I took a pair of silk briefs from Zack’s dresser and handed them to him. “And Ginny was there. It must have been quite a scene to walk in on.”

  “It’s one I won’t forget for a while.” Zack shuddered. “There was so much blood. Ginny was soaked. By the time we were finished with Debbie and her gang, someone had notified the press, and they got some peachy shots of Ginny coming out of her ex-husband’s house covered in blood.”

  “She’s not under arrest?”

  “No. The police can’t do anything until they collect the evidence. If they think Ginny’s concealing something, they’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “Ginny’s going to call me after she’s talked to the twins.”

  “Those poor girls.”

  “Losing a father when you’re that young has to be rough.”

  “I wonder how Em and Chloe will remember him.”

  Zack shrugged. “Time will tell. Right now the priority is to get their mother out from under this.” He pulled on his socks – cashmere, winter and summer, because his circulation was so poor. “Ginny wants you there when she and I get together. I said I’d ask, but nobody’s going to blame you for taking a bye on this one.”

  I screwed the lid back on the Polysporin. “Lately, my attempts to put my head in the sand haven’t met with much success. I might as well do what I can.”

  We finished dressing in silence, weighed down by the thought of what lay ahead. Zack chose a lime green and hot pink tie that I especially liked. He was knotting it when the phone rang. He answered and mouthed Ginny’s name.

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said. “Joanne’s coming too.” He paused, listening. “I’ll tell her.” He rang off. “Ginny’s grateful. Time to move along, Ms. Shreve.”

  “I know,” I said. I thought of the leg spasms, the abrasions on his back, and the weariness in his voice. “Zack, let’s still go to the lake tonight. I’ve already done the shopping. Mieka’s looking forward to having Taylor. And this case will be here when you get back.”

  He looked at me hard. “That is so tempting.”

  “Give into temptation,” I said. “After the meeting at Ginny’s we can swing by the house, pick up the dogs, and have the barbecue smoking and the martinis poured by six.”

  “Sold,” he said. “I love the lake before the people come. It’s nice to be safe from human mischief.”

  “People do complicate things,” I said.

  We took Zack’s car to Ginny’s – a mistake as it turned out because a shiny new Jaguar with a vanity plate AMICUS is more noticeable than a Volvo station wagon of indeterminate age with a licence plate that says nothing. There were media vans parked in front of Ginny’s condo. Zack pulled into a parking spot well away from them. “What the hell do they think they’re going to see?”

  “Us,” I said. “Lucky you wore your pretty tie.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “Jo, how do you think Ginny should handle this publicly? It’s not just a question of optics; her behaviour could have ramifications down the line.”

  “Legal ramifications?”

  “Yes. If this comes to trial – which I hope to God it doesn’t – Ginny’s behaviour in the next few hours could be significant.”

  “You can’t expect her to perform, Zack. She must still be in shock. Whatever her feelings were about Jason, seeing him like that must have been a nightmare.”

  “Ginny’s strong – she’ll do what she has to do.”

  “Then have her issue a brief statement expressing her shock and sorrow and asking that the media respect her children’s right to privacy at this sad time.”

  Zack grunted. “You really think the media are going to buy into that?”

  “Reporters have kids of their ow
n. They should know when to draw the line.”

  “How about the voters? What do you think Jason’s death does to Ginny’s election chances?”

  “It finishes them,” I said simply. “Ginny may not have been charged, but the suspicion that she had something to do with his murder is there. And purely pragmatically, she needs to be campaigning, but the moment she steps out in public, she’s fair game – the press can ask her whatever they want.”

  “So she just holes up in her condo until this blows over?”

  “It beats the alternative.” I pointed at the media vans. “Those vans are going to be a permanent fixture till the police figure out what happened to Jason.”

  “Any suggestions? Deb isn’t going to let Ginny leave the jurisdiction.”

  “Lawyers’ Bay is near Regina. It’s a gated community, and we have a guest house sitting there empty.”

  Zack smiled approvingly. “Good plan, Ms. Shreve.” He glared at the media. “Time to face the ravening hoards.” He opened his door and reached into the backseat for his chair. The TV people were on him like the proverbial ticks on a dog. Zack unfolded his chair and gave them his barracuda smile. “How about backing off until I get into my chair? And, incidentally, the answer is ‘no comment.’ ”

  The bravest of the group stood his ground. “We haven’t asked anything yet,” he said.

  “Whatever you ask, that’s the answer.” Zack slid into its seat and wheeled towards the condo. I stayed right behind him.

  There were six of us at the meeting: Ginny, Keith, Margot, Sean Barton, Zack, and me. Ginny was sitting cross-legged on the window seat. Framed by a wash of blue sky, her open-necked white shirt crisp, Ginny could have been an ad for the benefits of condo living, but her face was pale and her eyes unfocused. We exchanged muted greetings, then Zack moved close enough to Ginny to take her hand. He always connected physically with his clients. It was, he said, his way of telegraphing to a judge or jury that his clients were human beings in whom he believed.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “Okay. Telling the kids was rough.”

  “How are they doing?”

  “I’m glad they have each other.”

  “Joanne has an idea that should help,” Zack said. He glanced at me.

  “I thought you and the girls might like to get away for a few days,” I said.

  Ginny’s eyes moved to Zack. “Will the police let me do that?”

  “I’ll talk to the inspector in charge of the case and see. I think I can get her to agree. The cottage we own is just forty-five minutes from the city, so if the police have questions you can be at headquarters in an hour. I think as a good faith gesture, you should stay in town till tomorrow night. By then the first rush of questions will be over. That’ll also give you a chance to issue a short statement expressing your shock and sadness about Jason’s death and asking the media to respect your daughters’ right to privacy at this sad time.”

  Ginny nodded. “I should also make certain everyone knows I’m still in the race.”

  “Good point,” Keith said. “But we have to make sure we get the balance of regret and determination right in your statement. Incidentally, Jo’s right about getting out of town. If you’re here, you’ll be getting ugly questions, and every story will link your name with Jason’s.”

  Ginny’s laugh was grim. “Ginny Monaghan, ex-wife of murdered businessman Jason Brodnitz, dropped in on a daycare centre today.”

  “You’ve got it.” Keith said. “Let’s get the statement out, then talk about how we can handle the campaign without Ginny.”

  Crafting a short statement that conveyed both sorrow and grit proved daunting, and as everyone worked on the wording, my mind drifted to the day my own father died, and I felt an almost palpable connection to Ginny’s daughters, sequestered somewhere in the condo. Finally, I got up and walked over to Ginny. “Would it be all right if I talked to the girls? I thought I could mention the cottage.”

  Ginny nodded. “Actually, I’d appreciate that. I don’t know quite what to do there. I think they’re in Em’s room – down the hall, second door on the left.”

  When I knocked, both twins came to the door. They’d been crying, but they were poised. “Were you looking for the bathroom?” one of the twins said.

  “Actually, I was looking for you. Could we talk for a minute?”

  “Sure. Come on in.”

  The room had the usual teenage clutter, plus an impressive array of home-gym equipment: a treadmill, a stationary bike, a step bench, and an assortment of free weights. “If you can find a place to sit, sit,” one of the twins said.

  I narrowed my eyes. “I’m sorry. I really can’t tell you two apart. You’re…?”

  “Chloe,” she said.

  I cleared off a corner of the bed and told them about the cottage. As they listened, some of the misery drained from their faces. “That would solve one of our problems,” Em said, snaking her arm around her sister’s waist. “It’s hard to know what you’re supposed to do when your father dies.”

  “I remember that,” I said. “Sitting in my room while my mother was downstairs talking to people.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen. My father died an hour before my sweet sixteen birthday party was supposed to start. My mother made me promise not to tell the guests because she’d gone to a great deal of trouble arranging things, and she didn’t want the party ruined.”

  Chloe’s jaw dropped. “She must have been a witch.”

  “She was,” I said.

  “So what did you do?” Em said.

  “I went to the party. It was being held at a place called the Granite Club in Toronto – very classy. I told my best friend, Sally, what had happened. She knew one of the boys who worked in the bar, and she got him to give us a bottle of cherry brandy and a package of Rothmans. We went outside and drank the brandy and smoked the cigarettes until I threw up on my dress. Then we went to my sweet sixteen.”

  Chloe’s eyes were huge. “Your mother must have been furious.”

  “She didn’t talk to me for a month.”

  The corners of Em’s mouth twitched into a smile. “But it was worth it, eh?”

  I nodded. “It was worth it.”

  “So what did your dad do for a living?” Em asked. Her tone was casual, but as she waited for my answer, she was intent.

  “He was a doctor.”

  “Nothing to be ashamed of,” she said. “Not like us.”

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” I said.

  “Right,” Chloe said. “We’re the incredible Brodnitz twins. Too bad our father was a pimp.”

  “Let it go,” her sister said. “He’s dead.”

  “But we’re not,” Chloe said, and she ran from the room.

  Em’s eyes flashed with anger. “There are times when I hate both my parents.” She inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “Coach would say that’s a waste of my energy.”

  “Coach would be right. Em, is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Yes,” she said wearily. “Wait three minutes and go knock on Chloe’s door. She didn’t thank you for the cottage, and if she doesn’t do the right thing, she beats herself up for days.”

  Chloe’s room was immaculate; so were her manners as she apologized for losing her temper and for neglecting to thank me for offering their family the cottage. As I walked back to the meeting, I knew that being Chloe Brodnitz had never been easy, but it was about to become a lot harder.

  By the time I returned to the meeting, the statement had been drafted and the focus had shifted to tasks.

  Keith spoke first. “Six days to E-Day, and Ginny, unless there’s a miracle, I don’t think you’re going to be able to campaign. My thought is that we establish a group, the Friends of Ginny Monaghan – high-profile, well-respected people who will go into the community and act as your surrogates. What do you think?”

  Ginny’s smile was wan. “Looks good on paper, Keith. Let me know if
there’s a stampede when you ask for volunteers to risk their reputation for an alleged sexaholic who may have murdered her ex-husband, the pimp.”

  Keith didn’t flinch. “Well, you’re looking at volunteer number one,” he said. “As for the rest, you underestimate your power, kiddo.”

  Ginny bit her lip. “Thanks,” she said. “I should have known…”

  Margot had been quiet during the discussion. Now she was ready to contribute. “Well, before there’s an Oprah moment here, I’m appointing myself the Friend of Jason Brodnitz.”

  Zack looked at her curiously. “That’s a new wrinkle. Not many lawyers continue working for a client after he’s dead.”

  “I do,” Margot said sharply. “Jason may have been a lot of things, but he wasn’t a pimp. I’ve dealt with those guys and they always made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I never got that with him.” Margot turned to Ginny. “I know this may seem as if I’m not on your side, but I am. I have a sense that when I find out the truth about him, I’m going to find out who would have a reason to want him dead.”

  Zack shot his new partner a hard look. “You’re wasting your time, Margot. The police are digging into every aspect of Brodnitz’s life even as we speak.”

  “I have my own sources,” Margot said.

  “Who?”

  “Mandy Avilia and my sister, Laurie. One of them will know who Cristal’s boyfriend was, and I’m putting my money on the boyfriend as our bad guy.”

  “I’ll come along,” Sean said. “I’m working with Zack on this. I may pick up something useful.”

  Margot caught my eye. It was just a flicker, but I knew she didn’t want Sean along.

  “Round-trip it’s a five-hour drive, Sean,” I said. “Zack won’t be able to spare you for that long. I’ll go with Margot. I met Mandy Avilia at Cristal’s funeral. We didn’t have a chance to talk that day, and I have some questions of my own.”

  “So, it’s settled then,” Margot said briskly. She stood and smoothed her skirt. And with that we went our separate ways.

  Zack and Sean stayed behind to discuss the case with Ginny, but Keith, Margot, and I left together. When the elevator doors closed, Keith chuckled. “That was a pretty smooth manoeuvre you two pulled off. I don’t think Sean knew what hit him.”