News of Al Macie’s murder rocked the town. Niagara-on-the-Lake is small. It’s a town that has been founded on generation upon generation; if you look through the phone book, you’ll see dozens of Klassens, Enns, and Janzens, to name a few. It is not so small that everyone knows your name or your business, but every face is familiar and what business needs to be known, is.
To say that nothing happens in Niagara-on-the-Lake would be far from the truth. As one of its newer residents, I’d learned the town had long enjoyed the reputation as one of the prettiest in Canada. It boasts world-famous wineries and is an area rich in history, having been Canada’s first capital as well as home to the country’s first library, newspaper, post office, bank, and courthouse. It is an extremely popular destination for tourists from all over the world. Whether they come for the wine, the history, or the theatre, the steady flow of traffic in and out of the town has become as well known a fixture as its clock tower on Queen Street and its gazebo overlooking Lake Ontario. Something was always happening in Niagara-on-the-Lake, but usually nothing bad.
A pall lingered over the town in the days following the murder, but it was thickest at the high school. I’d been invited to meet Vincent Leduc at the school early Friday morning to discuss our plans for when classes resumed. A small handful of staff moved zombielike through their business as I made my way to Al Macie’s office. The door was ajar when I got there.
“Hello,” I said, sticking my head around the open door.
“Oh, God, you scared me,” a man said, clutching his chest and whirling around to face me.
“I’m sorry. I should have knocked.”
“No. It’s fine. I just didn’t expect anyone would be coming in here.”
When I had spoken with Vincent Leduc, I was certain this was where he had suggested we meet. I opened my mouth to voice my confusion.
“You’re Bella James,” the man said before I could speak.
“Yes, I—”
“You’re just as pretty in real life.”
“Uh, thank you,” I said, feeling colour rising in my cheeks. “I hope I’m not late. I know you said eight thirty, but—”
“I’m sorry?”
“We were supposed to go over plans for—”
“Ah. You’re meeting someone. I won’t be long. I’m Glynn.” He said the name like it was supposed to mean something. I shook my head. “Glynn Radley,” he repeated. “Al’s partner.”
He was tall and thin. Just like Al Macie had been. But with a little more muscle.
“I came by to pick up some of his things,” he went on. “I should have come by sooner but I couldn’t bring myself …”
“Of course. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“I’m, uh …” he stammered, his eyes starting to well. “He was very excited to be working with you. I was so jealous. I told him to be sure to get all the Port Authority scoop. I’d made up a dozen excuses to come by the class so I could meet you. I guess now … This wasn’t the way I pictured it.”
Jeffers had been right after all about people wanting to cozy up to a celebrity. Time to keep up my end of the bargain. “Mr. Radley—”
“Glynn, please.”
“Glynn. I’m sorry I never got a chance to meet Al. He seemed lovely over the phone.”
“Lovely. That really is the perfect word to describe him,” he said sadly. “We were together for twenty-one years and I never once heard him say a bad word about anybody. Can you believe that? In twenty-one years?” I smiled and let him continue. “Bully directors, angry parents, difficult colleagues, even bad waiters. They all got a pass when it came to Al. It’s one of the things I loved most about him. Always seeing the good. But it drove me crazy too, you know? Sometimes I just wanted him to lash out. To yell at the top of his lungs. Throw something. I mean he must have felt … frustrated. Angry. At times. Where does that all go?”
“I—”
“I’m sorry. God, listen to me.”
“It’s fine,” I said, smiling reassuringly. “It’s important for you to talk through things. Especially at a time like this. Believe me. I learned that lesson the hard way.”
“I’m trying, you know?” Glynn said, tears coming to his eyes and his voice catching. “I’m really trying to understand how somebody … I know Al would want me to forgive, but …”
“From what you’ve told me about him, I can’t believe Al would have had any enemies.”
“Oh, I didn’t say that. Al may have seen the good in everyone, but that doesn’t mean—”
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” a man said, rushing down the hall toward me. “I had to fill out some forms in the office in order to … Glynn.”
“Vince?”
I’d been standing close to the door and had been visible from the hall but it wasn’t until Vincent Leduc turned into the office that he saw I wasn’t alone. The two men stared at one another.
“I don’t believe this,” Glynn said, clocking the box of personal belongings Vincent carried. “You didn’t waste any time, did you?”
“Glynn, this wasn’t my decision,” Vincent said calmly. “The board asked—”
“Yeah,” Glynn retorted, “sure it did.” He grabbed the box containing Al’s things and walked out of the room.
I stood, frozen, unsure whether I should speak. Vincent Leduc had his back to me and he sighed heavily as he placed his box on the desk. Finally he turned to face me.
“Bella,” he said, extending his hand. “Vincent Leduc. Call me Vince.”
“Nice to meet you, Vince.”
“I’m sorry about all that.”
“Not at all,” I said, dying to know what “all that” was. “Glynn seemed upset to learn you’re taking over Al’s class.”
“He’ll get over it,” he said with a bit of a chuckle.
“You know them well? Glynn and Al?”
“Mostly Al. Listen, can I get you a coffee or something before we start?”
“I’m fine.”
“Give me five minutes?”
“Of course.”
He took a mug out of the box and left me alone in the office.
I could see a copy of Sanford Meisner’s book, On Acting, among Vince’s things and I reached for it without thinking. Meisner’s teachings were legendary and his book can be found on the shelves of almost every actor. During my first year of theatre school I’d had a teacher who had studied with him and had implemented his technique in our class. I flipped through the pages of the book, shaking my head at the memory of the Repetition Exercise, which had been the bane of my existence. One of my flips sent a photograph falling to the floor.
A group of men were standing on the steps of a building I didn’t recognize. Their arms were linked and they appeared to be on the descent. I recognized a much younger Al Macie at one end of the line. He looked to be in mid-laugh. In fact all of the men appeared to be having a great time. All but one. A man at the other end of the line who I was sure was Vincent Leduc.
“This photo is key,” I said over the phone to Jeffers later that night. “There’s more to both Glynn and Al’s relationships with Vince. Vince clearly didn’t want to discuss it. Hopefully Glynn will be more forthcoming. I’ve already called him and asked if we could meet.”
“Look at Samuel, showing initiative. What’s your plan?”
“Glynn was at the school picking up some of Al’s personal effects. I told him I found this photograph and thought he might like to have it. I said it was in one of Al’s books. If he doesn’t want it, I’ll sneak it back into the office. It’s a way to get the conversation started.”
“OK. Did either of them know anything about Elsbeth?”
“It didn’t occur to me to ask.”
“Damn.”
“Why don’t you just go talk to her? She’s the one who found Al’s body. She’s pretty material to the case. It only makes sense the police would need to speak to her.”
“I did. This morning. Her father kept a pretty tight leash on the situation. The best I could get was that she was at the school to meet a friend to study.”
“At seven in the morning?”
“Apparently she had a big test that afternoon.”
“But you don’t believe her?”
“No. I know if I could talk to her without her father looming over us she’d have more to say. And when I say ‘I’, I mean you.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said. “Classes resume next week. I’ll try to get her alone.”
“Don’t try. Just do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sorry.”
“Jeffers, what exactly do you think she knows? She said she was at the school early to meet a friend to study and found Al’s body. Why are you so sure there’s more to her story?”
“Why was she in the studio?”
“Maybe she was just walking by.”
“Maybe. Maybe she heard something. Maybe she saw something. Maybe the killer saw her and threatened her. I don’t know. But there’s more. I can just feel it.”
“Did you ask any of the staff about her when you were conducting interviews?”
“I got nothing. She’s a good student. Quiet. Hangs with a small group of girls. Blah blah.”
“And what about Al?”
“Highly respected. A gifted teacher by all accounts. Generally well liked.”
“Generally?”
“I got the feeling not all of the staff was completely comfortable with his homosexuality. But that’s not surprising. And certainly no reason to kill him. Listen, when are you planning on seeing Glynn?”
“Sunday.”
“Would you mind if I tagged along? When I spoke to him on the day of the murder he was understandably upset. He’d been out of town and rushed back when he got the news. He answered my questions as best he could, but now that a few days have passed, he might be able to recall something else.”
“About Elsbeth?”
“Among other things.”
Jeffers and I spoke for a few more minutes before hanging up.
“I thought you weren’t getting involved,” Dr. Gorgeous said from the doorway of the kitchen. He was drying a plate.
“You know I have a dishwasher,” I said, smiling.
“Call me old fashioned. More wine?” he asked, nodding toward my empty glass.
“Thanks. And for the record,” I said, as he disappeared into the kitchen, “I’m not involved. I’m just helping.”
“Uh-huh.”