Free The Delicate Storm by Giles Blunt

this?”
    “Chouinard’s already agreed. We’re thinking two detectives—Delorme and you.”
    “This will not be too onerous,” Laroche said. “It’s going to be at our new ski club—the Highlands?—and the dinner will be sumptuous, I assure you. Except for being on watch for suspicious individuals, I think you’ll manage to enjoy yourselves.”
    “You’ll need more than two detectives to secure an event like that.”
    “We’ll have our own private security, of course. They will be on the doors and backstage and so on. But frankly—in the wake of September 11—I don’t think private security’s enough. I’ll be much more comfortable if we have a couple of professionals right in among the tables. Premier Mantis is a very prominent figure.”
    “We’ll put three or four patrolmen outside as well,” R.J. said.
    “Are we going to be doing this for the Liberals and the NDP, too?” Cardinal said to Kendall.
    “Certainly. If they ask us.”
    “They won’t,” Laroche said. “Their political fortunes are such, these days, any fundraiser they hold is likely to be a low-profile affair. We are, after all, the only party with a provincial premier as its candidate.”
    The food arrived, and the venison was as good as any Cardinal had ever tasted. He was tempted to try the Bordeaux with it—the chief wouldn’t have minded—but he wanted to be absolutely clear-headed for the afternoon.
    They discussed various angles of security for the fundraiser. Cardinal tried not to let his impatience show. Security detail was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about while investigating a murder. Laroche had brought a floor plan of the new club, and they talked about deployment of the security personnel inside, patrol officers outside and the two detectives among the guests.
    When they were having their coffee, Laroche said to Cardinal, “So you didn’t care for Mayor Wells, I take it? You know, he was a wonderful mayor.”
    “Well, yes—if you ignore the fact that he was stuffing ballot boxes. You don’t think he deserved what he got?”
    Laroche looked Cardinal up and down—taking his time about it. “People in our society have decided it is a crime to stuff ballot boxes. That makes it a crime. In other places it’s not a crime, or it’s overlooked. It’s not inherently evil. And one shouldn’t forget all the things Mayor Wells did for this city.”
    “He built the airport. He built the overpass. Then he stole an election.”
    “Let’s not make him out to be Richard Nixon,” Kendall said.
    “There’s good and bad mixed in every man, don’t you think?” Laroche said. “For example, you saved the city from a murderous rampage, but I’m willing to bet there are things in your life that might not look so heroic on page one of the Toronto Star.”
    “You’re right there,” Cardinal said. He thought of the anniversary card. We know where you live .
    “And Wells was a character. People underestimate how important that is in a leader. That’s why I could never run for office myself, much as I’d love to. Too colourless.”
    “But you’re very impressive,” Cardinal said. “We’ve just been introduced, and I’m sitting here, impressed. That’s half the battle, isn’t it?”
    Laroche laughed, showing perfect teeth.
    “I’m a behind-the-scenes man, born and bred, Detective. Give me a candidate like Geoff Mantis, I’ll do everything I can to get him elected. I’ll call in the debts, twist the arms, you name it. But run for office myself? Not a chance.”
    Laroche spoke as if he were laying out his points in a seminar, his modulation highly educated. Cardinal wondered if he had lived abroad. Laroche gripped Cardinal’s arm lightly. “Forgive me for being so earnest. These questions are on my mind, what with the election coming up.”
    “Is Geoff Mantis going to win again?”
    “Oh, yes. I’m going to make sure of it.”
    After the luxurious interior of the Trianon, the parking lot felt