Free Law and Disorder by Mary Jane Maffini Page B

I could still see her. The lingering image was that of a tall, svelte figure in a Sunny Choi suit speaking passionately into a microphone and decrying the state of sentencing in Canada. My sister Edwina once mentioned that Annalisa Fillmore only wore Stuart Weitzman shoes which set her back three hundred dollars plus. Her handbags would be worth more than my last car. I remembered Annalisa’s face contorted with rage as she confronted Rollie on the courthouse steps. Rollie, dropping his customary unconcern for his fellow humans, had actually jumped back like a startled hamster. Some people had laughed at his panic. But I wondered at the time if Rollie hadn’t hurtled out of her reach, would Annalisa Fillmore have pushed him down the wide courthouse stairs?
    Even so, it was a serious mental leap from rage after a court case to shooting someone and pushing them from a boat into the middle of the Rideau to drown.
    At four, I was still awake.
    At five thirty, Gussie and I were back from our walk. I gave Alvin a break, but by six, I figured what the hell, P. J. might as well get up and confront the day too.
    “What time is it?”
    “Doesn’t matter. We need to talk about Annalisa Fillmore.”
    “Who the bleep is Annalisa Fillmore, and why can’t she wait until… My god, does my clock say six oh three?”
    “Try and follow the script, P. J. Annalisa Fillmore is the founder of Mothers for Fair Sentencing. You see her at conferences. You hear her issuing juicy sound bites on the news after trials.”
    “Okay. And I care about this at six oh three because?”
    “Because Annalisa Fillmore’s fifteen-year-old daughter was killed by her joyriding boyfriend. The boyfriend got off with a non-custodial sentence. Although I think maybe he had to write an essay on road safety too.”
    “Sheesh.”
    “Exactly. It was before they enacted the street racing laws. Annalisa must have had an impact on those too. She lobbied like a house on fire. The kid wouldn’t get away with it now, and trust me, he was a grubby little creep and as guilty as sin.”
    “Don’t the courts decide that?”
    “The court did decide that, but he didn’t have a record, his parents were every bit as wealthy, well-connected and respectable as Annalisa Fillmore herself, and the boy’s lawyer talked a good story. Brilliant even.”
    “Now it’s six oh four, and I’m thinking this interesting information could have waited until eight thirty, nine o’clock, no problem.”
    “So guess who the boyfriend’s lawyer was.”
    It sounded like P. J. was yawning. After a while, he said, “I can’t guess my own name at this time of day.”
    “Give it a shot.”
    “Oh. You mean—really?”
    “You got it. Our boy Rollie. She hated him. White-hot lava hated.”
    “I don’t know if lava is white, but allow me to remark that you hated him too. Everyone who knew him probably detested him.”
    “Oh sure, no argument here. I’m actually on my own list of suspects. But we both know that I didn’t kill him. I’m pretty sure you didn’t either, although you will do almost anything for an exclusive. But this woman’s emotions went way beyond our minor loathing. I worked with her from time to time on Justice for Victims matters, and she was deadly serious.”
    “You said you worked with her, so did you get along all right?”
    “I believe in the rights of the accused to a fair and unbiased trial, no matter what I think of that particular individual or the crime. That seemed to be an issue for her, and we had words more than once.”
    “You had words with someone, Tiger? That’s hard to believe.”
    “Hilarious, P. J. Did I mention she owned a boat? Some kind of yachtlike thing that you can actually sleep on. She was out on that boat the night her daughter died. I don’t think she’d have trouble getting her manicured mitts on a gun either. She’s loaded. Trust me. No one hated Rollie more than Annalisa did. I think she would have been capable of this. I