Foul Deeds: A Rosalind Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page B

come over after rehearsal for a drink or some tea?”
    â€œSure,” I said. “I will. That would be great.”
    â€œI have a surprise for you. ”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” I said, ever wary of surprises.
    â€œWell it’s…no it’s just a little present, really.”

    A little present? What on earth could that be, I wondered as I drove along Gottingen Street to Sophie’s apartment building in the North End. She lived at the edge of the Hydrostone, the part of the city that had been completely rebuilt following the devastating Halifax Explosion of 1917. The brainchild of renowned town planner Thomas Adams and architect George Ross, featuring design variations, gardens, and wide boulevards, the Hydrostone was a remarkable success story. Over three hundred homes were completed in 1921, all constructed out of the compressed concrete blocks known as hydro-stones. The dwellings were modern for that era—all equipped with electricity and plumbing—practical—they wouldn’t burn down easily—and beautiful. Still beautiful, I thought as I drove by the little row of shops that ran along Young Street.
    Sophie had indeed left rehearsal early; I stayed on to work Hamlet’s wonderful fishmonger scene with Polonius, followed by his first scene with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. After a stressful day, I was feeling exhilarated, truly connected to something greater than greed and malice. While that was exactly what the play was about, the sheer joy of Shakespeare’s language lifted my spirits. I was enjoying my work with the actors and they were all doing a superb job. Even though they had no money, no production support, no costumes, they were embarking on the
Hamlet
journey with full passion and commitment.
    I parked in front of Julien’s Bakery and walked across to Sophie’s building and up to her apartment. She had the tea on—a new chai she was trying out—and the familiar bottle of single malt was sitting on the low table by the couch with a couple of small glasses.
    â€œHow did it go after I left?” she called from the kitchen.
    â€œReally well,” I said, spreading some of our favourite St. Agur cheese on a Stoned Wheat Thin. “Lots of comedy in those sections, watching Hamlet get the best of those characters as they stand on their heads trying to figure him out. It’s about as light as the play gets. The company seems to be relaxing more too,” I added as she came into the room with tea things. “I try not to interfere with what they’re doing, and now they’re readily coming to me to puzzle things out, so I think we’ve figured out our working dynamic. I’m really into it.”
    â€œYou sort of spend your life puzzling things out, don’t you? I mean that’s what you do with McBride too.”
    â€œIt is, although he takes the lead, directing me to do certain kinds of research and various other tasks. But occasionally I get very involved with the cases.”
    â€œHe’s not married is he?”
    I looked at her. “Oh my god, Sophie. Are you interested in McBride?”
    â€œBut is he…or does he have someone in his life?”
    â€œHe’s married to Molly,” I said dryly.
    â€œNo, seriously—what’s his story?”
    â€œWell, he’s divorced and his ex lives out in BC—Victoria, I think—with their teenage son, Alex. He used to lean pretty heavily on the bottle, and I guess she got as far away as she could. Honestly, in many ways he’s your classic hard-boiled gumshoe, Sophie. It would be a tough slog trying to live with McBride.”
    â€œOh for heaven’s sake Roz—I don’t want to live with him. I’m just curious about him.”
    â€œWell, just so you know,” I said. “Anyway, moving right along…where’s the present?”
    â€œWell, it’s not really a present, I mean, not an actual thing. I have