Maid of the Mist by Colin Bateman Read Free Book Online Page B

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    'Could one of you tell me what's going on round here?' Madeline asked, looking from one to the other.
    'Too much,' Corrigan said, 'and not enough.'

12
    Corrigan let Madeline take him for coffee. He didn't know why. It just seemed like the least stressful option. It was a dingy cafe in downtown Niagara. Half a dozen tables. Packets of salt stolen from McDonald's sat in little cups. It saw maybe five or six tourists a year. There was a yellowing Maid of the Mist t-shirt for sale behind the counter.
    'So,' he said half-heartedly, 'you operate out of Buffalo.'
    'Channel 4. About a year. New owner brought in a fresh news team when he took over. I'm from Albany. You?'
    'Niagara,' said Corrigan.
    She looked doubtfully at him. 'Tell me about the woman,' she said.
    'I could tell you,' Corrigan said, 'but then I'd have to kiss you.'
    'Kiss me?'
    'Kill you.'
    'You said kiss me.'
    'I did not.'
    'You certainly did.'
    'You may have wanted me to say kiss you. But I did not. Why would I want to kiss you?'
    'You tell me.'
    They looked at each other. Corrigan resisted a smile. Her face reddened. 'I'm sorry if I misheard,' she said.
    She had a nice face. She was friendly. He lit a cigarette.
    'If it's a question of money,' Madeline said, 'I'm sure we could sort something out.'
    'Are you trying to bribe me?'
    She smiled. 'I was thinking more in terms of paying for the coffee.' She reached over and took one of his cigarettes. She lit it, blew smoke in his direction.
    The waitress stumped across with a glass ashtray and cracked it down on the table.
    The ashtray said Budweiser across it. The waitress said nothing.
    'I know a Native American went over the Falls,' Madeline said, 'and that there must be a reason for it, but every reporter in the state is on to it by now. The longer we leave it, the less valuable it becomes.'
    Corrigan nodded. 'So meet my terms.'
    'What are your terms?'
    'Coffee and a danish.'
    'I don't think that will be a problem.'
    'And a five-hundred-dollar donation to Turner House.'
    'What's got you so keen on Turner House?'
    'They do a good job.'
    'Who's Nicola?'
    He took a sip of coffee. 'You ask a lot of questions.'
    'Actually, I think that's my first. Or second.'
    His mobile rang. He said, 'Excuse me,' and turned away.
    It was Stirling. 'You better come in, Frank.' His voice sounded a little strained.
    'What's the problem?'
    'Pongo's the problem.'
    'What's Pong. . .' He stopped. He looked at Madeline, then turned slightly to one side. 'What's happened? You get him talking yet?'
    'Yes sir, I did.'
    'So?'
    'I think you better come down.'
    There was silence for several moments, then Corrigan said: 'I'll be right there.' He clicked off, then stood suddenly, the chair squeaking on the dark linoleum floor. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'but I have to go.'
    'What's . . . ?'
    'Police business.' He turned for the door. Madeline pushed her chair back and hurried after him.
    'What about the girl?' she said.
    'What girl?' He opened the door and stepped out on to the sidewalk.
    'The girl that went over the Falls.'
    'Sorry. You know as much as I do.'
    'No I don't.'
    He stopped. 'No, in fact you don't. I'm sorry. There's nothing much I can tell you. She's run away. I'll have to track her down. If you can do it, be my guest. Then give me a call.'
    He smiled and turned away.
    She tutted. He walked back to his car and opened it up. He started the engine. There was a tap on the window.
    It was Madeline. 'Inspector?'
    He rolled the window down. 'What?'
    'Could you lend me a couple of bucks for the coffee?'
    'What?'
    'I came out without my purse. I'm sorry.'
    He rolled his eyes.
    'Sorry,' she said. 'You can arrest me if you want.'
    He smiled. He checked his wallet. He'd given his smaller notes to Tarriha. There was just a single hundred-dollar note. He took it out and made a show of examining it. She smiled and plucked it out of his fingers. 'Thanks,' she said and hurried back to the cafe.
    'I'll wait here for the change,' he called after