Nonfiction 2

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By Anne Emery

A wealthy guy and a negative guy are came upon lifeless of gunshot wounds open air a seedy bar on Barrington highway. The police claim it a murder-suicide, yet bluesman/lawyer Monty Collins suspects it is a double homicide. Helped via his buddy, Father Brennan Burke, and hindered by means of his femme fatale legislation companion, Felicia Morgan, Monty explores the darkish facet of Halifax society: hookers, drug addicts, boozers, gamblers and other people eager to disguise up a sequence of events that obtained manner out of hand. A probability of blackmail, and turmoil together with his estranged spouse Maura, have Monty making a song the blues, lashing out at his closest neighbors, and spending a ways an excessive amount of time within the bars of Halifax.

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By the time a beer found its way into my hand I downed it with what must have looked like unseemly haste, and made my excuses to the host and hostess. † When I pulled up at my old house on Dresden Row I could see my daughter, Normie, staring out at me from the living room window. Her real name is Norma, after the heroine of the opera by that name, but don’t ever call her that; she answers only to Normie. My son, Tommy Douglas, is more than content with his name. My wife decided to call our son after the leader of the first socialist government elected in North America.

Did she know I was involved in the case? I doubted it. Ross Trevelyan’s was the only name that had been mentioned in the media, as far as I knew. ” Yvette snickered. ” Oh, Christ. What was she saying? She sat back, triumphant, arms folded against her scrawny chest. I took a deep breath. ” She made a “maybe I will, maybe I won’t” gesture, but I sat tight. It wasn’t long in coming. “That bitch Wanda is gonna be sorry she fucked with me at my trial. She thinks nobody knows she was there. But she didn’t count on me doin’ my duty as a good citizen, just like she done on the witness stand.

Yes, fine, fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Listen. Go down to my gun cabinet and tell me if all my — tell me how many Lugers are there. ” He held the receiver away from his ear and shook his head in irritation, then rolled his eyes as he endured the long wait for his son. This had become, instantly, the most important thing in his life. “What? Well, speak up! Yeah? Good. ” He banged the receiver down, and the phone clattered to the floor. I picked it up and replaced it on the table. “They’re all accounted for.

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