The Delicate Storm by Giles Blunt

Author:Giles Blunt
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780425196786
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2002-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

They met outside Laroche Real Estate, which was located in a beautifully restored Edwardian house on MacIntosh with porthole windows and an ornate L-shaped veranda.

A glossy young woman directed them to the Mantis campaign headquarters a few doors down, in a converted storefront that had been vacant for years. The interior was furnished with old metal desks and what looked like a hundred phones. Many of these were manned by middle-aged housewives, but there was also a platoon of eager-looking young men in shirt sleeves. It was one of these, a kid no more than eighteen, who went to fetch Laroche. So young, Cardinal thought, and so conservative.

“Detective Cardinal,” Laroche said when he came out. “How nice to see you again.” He handed a stack of paper to his pimply assistant and said, “These are fine.”

Cardinal introduced Delorme.

“The notorious Detective Delorme,” Laroche said with a smile. “I’ll have to watch what I say.”

He led them back to an ugly little cubicle with cheap pine panelling and metal bookshelves full of videotapes. One wall was dominated by a huge poster of a smiling Premier Mantis standing in front of the Ontario flag. On the windowsill, a combined TV/VCR was playing a tape of Mantis joking with reporters outside Queen’s Park; the sound was off. A snapshot on a bookshelf showed Laroche and Mantis dressed in hunting gear, grinning amid brilliant fall foliage.

The only seating consisted of task chairs rolled up against a table with three computers and telephones on it.

“Have a seat,” Laroche said. “I don’t imagine you’re used to such luxury.”

“I feel right at home,” Cardinal said.

“You’ve met with Ed Beacom, I take it. Have you worked out the security arrangements?”

“We’ll be meeting with Ed soon,” Cardinal said. “That isn’t actually what we came to talk about.”

“Oh?”

Cardinal looked at Delorme: It’s your case.

“Mr. Laroche,” Delorme said, “did you know Winter Cates?”

“The young woman who was murdered? I assume the reason you’re asking is because she lived in one of my buildings.”

“Did you know her?”

“I met her once. I happened to be at the Twickenham the day she moved in. Lovely young woman. Good doctor, too, from what I hear. It’s a terrible loss.”

“When you met her, was there anything about her that gave you cause for concern?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Perhaps there was something unusual on her rental application. Or maybe there was someone with her …”

“Just a couple of moving men, I think.”

“And you never saw her again?”

“I own a lot of buildings. I don’t manage them day-to-day.”

“I know,” Delorme said. “I used to be one of your tenants.”

“Really?” Laroche said. “Which building?”

“The Balmoral, over on MacPherson. Not for long, though.”

“Well, I’m sorry we didn’t keep you.”

“Too expensive. The city doesn’t pay me enough.”

Laroche laughed. He said something in French that Cardinal didn’t catch, and Delorme said something back. Cardinal sensed that she found Laroche attractive, even though he must have had twenty-something years on her. Perhaps it was the dark good looks, greying at the edges. Or perhaps it was the self-assurance that wafted around him like expensive aftershave.

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