Little Boy Blues: A Camilla MacPhee Mystery [Paperback]

In this third Camilla MacPhee mystery, the no-nonsense, pain-in-the-ass victims' advocate and part-time investigator is once again dragged into a situation she feels she cannot avoid. Jimmy Ferguson, the brain-damaged brother of her multiply-pierced assistant, Alvin, has disappeared in Sydney, Nova Scotia, where Camilla arrives to provide her generally unwanted and unappreciated help, while uncovering multiple secrets from the town's distant past. Camilla must deal with the Fergusons (a stiff family if not quite a family of stiffs), semitruculent police forces in Cape Breton and Ottawa, and Gussie, a friendly dog with a bad case of flatulence. As always, she's ably assisted by her neighbor, Mrs. Parnell, 79, who chain-smokes Benson & Hedges, guzzles Harvey's Bristol Cream, and treats the case like a military campaign in wartime Italy.

Maffini is particularly adept at finding the humour in difficult situations. With an admirably complex plot, the novel fairly zips along, relying mostly on dialogue with minimal description of the various locales. The characters have all the irritating quirks and foibles of real people and are well delineated, especially the befuddled Jimmy and the ever irascible and engaging Camilla. --Mark Frutkin

"...a pleasant and challenging read...supported by well-defined ancillary characters and some engaging subplots." -- Quill and Quire

In the third Camilla MacPhee Mystery, Camilla's looking forward to cutting loose at Ottawa's Bluesfest, the huge open-air extravaganza, and to seeing the tail end of her annoying office assistant, Alvin, who is finally quitting. Then the news comes from the East Coast. Alvin's younger brother Jimmy has vanished from the midst of a Canada Day crowd in Sydney, Nova Scotia. Is he dead? Has he been abducted? Sleuthing irritably about Sydney on Alvin's behalf, Camilla manages to make the usual quota of people froth at the mouth, including Jimmy's frantic family, forlorn friends and puzzled teachers. She doesn't spare the parish priest or even the guy at the chip stand. Before Camilla knows it, all roads lead back to Ottawa, where a killer with everything to lose waits to create havoc among the tents, guitar-pickers and happy, swaying crowds. If Camilla doesn't sort out this whole mess, how many other people are going to die?

Victims' advocate Camilla MacPhee is looking forward to cutting loose at Ottawa's Bluesfest, a huge music festival, and to seeing the tail end of her annoying employee, Alvin, who is quitting. Then the news comes from the East Coast. Alvin's younger brother has vanished. Sleuthing irritably in Sydney on Alvin's behalf, Camilla manages to make the usual quota of people froth at the mouth. Before she knows it, all roads lead back to Bluesfest, where a killer with everything to lose waits to create havoc among the tents, guitar-pickers and swaying crowds. If Camilla doesn't sort out this mess, how many people are going to die?

Mary Jane Maffini is a lapsed librarian and a mystery addict. She is the author of six Camilla MacPhee mysteries, two Fiona Silk adventures, five Charlotte Adams books, and nearly two dozen short stories. She holds two Arthur Ellis Awards for best mystery short story, as well as the Derrick Murdoch lifetime achievement award. Speak Ill of the Dead was shortlisted for an Arthur Ellis Award for best first novel and Lament for a Lounge Lizard for best novel. Mary Jane lives and plots in Ottawa.

It was already time to go home when the big guys showed up. Jimmy didn't notice, because he was busy feeding the ducks. Allie said, "Uh oh. Let's get out of here." Jimmy had a couple of crusts left, and he had been waiting a long time to come to the park, so he said, "I'm not finished." Forget it, Jimmy. Run." "Wait." "Now." When Jimmy looked up, Allie was already near the top of the hill. "Hold on, Allie. I'm coming." But somehow he got some water in his boots and, anyway, he couldn't really run fast because of his asthma. Allie knew that. But Allie had disappeared over the top of the hill. Jimmy could hear him yelling hurry up, stupid. The big guys were chasing after him. It looked like Allie got away. That was good. The big guys turned around and walked back into the park. They stood next to Jimmy. The really tall guy in the brown jacket picked up a rock and threw it into the water. The rock hit one of the ducklings. The mother duck squawked and flapped her wings. The other guy laughed, and they slapped each other on the back. "Get her next." They both had rocks. The guy with the yellow eyes aimed for the mother duck. The rock hit the duck and she sank below the water without making a sound. "You can't do that," Jimmy yelled. "Leave the mother duck alone." "Listen to short-arse," the tall guy in the brown jacket said, heaving a rock. The rest of the ducks were quacking and flapping their wings. They must have been afraid. Jimmy thought another duckling got hit. He couldn't stop crying. "Stop it. You big fat bullies. Leave the ducks." The tall guy said, "Who the hell do you think you are?" Jimmy looked around, hoping Allie would come back. Allie was the smart one, and he was tough in a fight. Allie was gone. But Jimmy couldn't let anything happen to the ducks. "Leave her alone." "Listen to him, will ya. Thinks he's tough." The tall guy turned to look at Jimmy. He had a rock in his hand. "He's a dumb little kid with a snotty nose." "I am not." Vince always said you have to stand up for yourself. And names can't hurt you. Jimmy didn't mind standing up for himself. but he hoped Allie would show up soon. "I guess we gotta do what he says." This guy had eyes the colour of pee. Jimmy had never seen anyone with yellow eyes. He was scarier than the tall guy. But Vince always said don't let anyone know you're afraid. "Don't pitch rocks at them. Okay?" "He's right." The tall guy looked at the guy with the yellow eyes and said, "What?" "You heard him. We can't pitch rocks at the ducks." The guys looked at each other funny. Maybe it was going to be okay. But Jimmy didn't like the mean smile on the yellow-eyed guy's face. "The problem is, if we can't pitch rocks at the ducks, what are we going to do with these rocks?" The guys laughed at that. "You can put them down," Jimmy said. He was glad he'd stood up for himself. "I don't think so. That would be a waste of a good rock." Jimmy looked up the hill one more time. No Allie. He started to back away from the guys. "My big brothers are coming back for me." "I guess they're coming a bit too late." The mean guy with the yellow eyes raised his arm. Jimmy was running up the hill when the first rock smashed into his legs. He fell onto his knees. The guys laughed at Jimmy crying and trying to get his breath. "What a wuss." The rocks kept flying. Jimmy's leg hurt so much. A big rock hit his back. Jimmy screamed as loud as he could. "Allie." "Look at short-arse cry. Guess you won't tell us what to do the next time." A rock smacked Jimmy's head. Blood splashed down his shirt. His chest hurt. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't even scream any more. The tall guy said, "Hey, look, maybe we better stop. The kid's bleeding." "What are you, a wuss now too? Afraid of a little blood. Boo hoo hoo." The tall guy sounded a bit scared to. "That's enough. Let's get out of here." The mean guy said, "You go if you want to, wussy girl." Jimmy made himself as small as he could when the mean guy kicked him. "Time to play with your ducks." Jimmy curled into a ball as he was rolled toward the pond. He could hear the yellow-eyed guy laughing and laughing until he felt the water on his face. Then he couldn't hear anything.