Free Cadillac Cathedral by Jack Hodgins Page A

knowledge that he had never missed a day in his seat while Parliament was in session. The few times he had spoken in the House he had not been heard because of the shouted insults from the party in power. Though everyone knew that Martin had prepared one fine hard-hitting speech on a topic related to children’s rights, it was rumoured that the party leader had insisted on reading the speech ahead of time and then decided to let an MP from Toronto speak on the topic instead.
    “Poor bugger,” Herbie said. “He never had a chance of being reelected after they stabbed him in the back.”
    “He never tried,” Peterson said. “He hated the Ottawa winter, he didn’t know how to ski, he’d never skated in his life, he felt like a prisoner in his own home — which wasn’t a home at all but some rented suite in a big old drafty apartment block. No wonder he decided not to run again.”
    “He didn’t decide not to run again,” Arvo said, as gently as heknew how. “Someone in Ottawa decided they knew what we needed better than we did ourselves. They figured he wasn’t the one we wanted to represent us, whatever we really thought. What else could he do but step aside?”
    “Sonsabitches,” Peterson said. “No wonder the country’s in a mess.”
    David Henderson came in through the door, taking off his black leather cap. He stood looking around for a moment, running his fingers through his greying hair. Instead of coming over to join Arvo and the others, he sat in the nearest empty booth and waited for Arvo to join him.
    “Excuse me,” Arvo said. “I’ve got a little business to talk over with Dave.”
    Henderson didn’t waste time with pleasantries. He lowered his voice to little more than a whisper even before Arvo had slid onto the facing seat. “Where the hell’d you get that hearse out there? Man oh man she’s a beauty.”
    “Thanks for dropping by,” Arvo said. “I made a trade for her, fair and square. You bring me a box?”
    “I must be crazy but I just now slid a top-grade oak casket into the back of your hearse, along with a whopping big bill for it. I figure Martin Glass deserves the best and you deserve to pay for it. I just hope you know what you’re doing. I just hope I know what I’m doing. Just don’t do anything that gets us into the papers.”
    “It’s all legal. I’ve got nothing but Martin’s good in mind.”
    “Man oh man, that’s a beauty out there! When you’re tired of playing with her I’ll take her off your hands and park her out front of the business. People will be dying for a chance to ride in ’er.” Henderson’s laughter tended to end in a snort.
    “Very funny. What I want to know is do we have an understanding? You’ll fax the hospital with the proper paperwork giving mepermission to bring the body home and turn him over to you.”
    “I know I know. I heard you yesterday. There’s still nothing to keep me from going down to pick him up myself.”
    “Yes, but then you would be losing any hope of borrowing the Cathedral hearse in the future, once I’ve delivered it to its rightful owner.”
    “Who is …?”
    “You’ll find out once we’ve taken care of Martin.”
    “Okay, I get it.” Henderson sighed and dropped his forehead briefly to the table. “But you don’t need to worry that I’ll follow you. I spend enough of my life creeping along the road at a snail’s pace; it would drive me crazy when I don’t have a corpse in the back.”
    “Go back and fax those forms. It may take us most of the day to get there. All I want is for them to have the paperwork by the time we arrive.”
    “Man oh man,” Henderson said again, pressing both palms to the table top and pushing himself to his feet. “One hint of trouble and I never talked to you, never even heard of you. You’ll be on your own, begging some cop to listen to your improbable tale of woe.”
    “Just fax those forms,” Arvo said.
    Once he had paid for their breakfasts and led the way