Thin Ice. Nick Wilkshire

that.”

      They settled in around a rectangular table as Avery tinkered with the settings on his phone, then looked across the table. “Just putting it on vibrate.”

      Marshall smiled. “So, how did you find out about Curtis?”

      “I got a call from Ellen this morning. She was hysterical. Poor woman.”

      “I can only imagine what she’s going through,” Marshall said, before continuing. “Part of what we’re trying to establish today, through various discussions, are the financial ramifications of Curtis’s death. We’ve talked to the team’s owner and GM, and we have the broad strokes of the contract, but we’d like to ask you for some details.”

      “Sure. I mean, I’ll answer whatever I can.”

      “We understand that Curtis’s beneficiary gets a one-time payment in the event of his death. Is that correct?”

      “Yes, that’s right. The beneficiary is entitled to half of one year’s worth of salary.”

      “And is that in addition to whatever Curtis already received under the contract?”

      “Yeah. He’s already been paid a signing bonus of …” Avery paused and smiled awkwardly. “Technically, the details of the contract are confidential, between the parties and their advisers. That’s the team and Curtis — his estate, now, I guess. I’m assuming the team’s okay with me disclosing all of this to you?”

      “The team is shipping us a copy of the contract later today, and I’d remind you that we have considerable leeway in a murder investigation. We can get a warrant if necessary, but we’d prefer your co-operation.”

      Avery waved his hands. “I’m happy to co-operate, believe me. I just don’t want to get slapped with a lawsuit the minute I walk out of here, but it sounds like that’s not going to be an issue, so I’ll tell you he got a two-million-dollar signing bonus. On my reading of the contract, he’s … his estate’s entitled to another five hundred K.”

      “Is that standard ?”

      “That’s a good question. I remember the clause and thinking at the time it was something the lawyers dreamed up to justify their fees. I mean, this is an eighteen-year-old we’re talking about. Yet, here we are.” Avery sat back in his chair. “Bottom line is the family gets five hundred thousand, plus whatever’s left from the bonus.”

      “Do you know if the team pays the five hundred thousand, or would it be the insurer?”

      “You’d have to ask the team, but I would think they’re going to want the insurance company to pick up the tab.”

      “Did Curtis have a business manager?”

      “I looked after his affairs. I think he was pretty happy in that department.”

      “I’m sure he was.” Marshall smiled. “Not too many eighteen-year-olds with a couple of mil sitting in their bank account.”

      “It’s peanuts compared to what he would have got in a couple of years, once we were out from under the rookie cap.”

      “Do you mind telling us what your cut was?”

      “Five percent, but I assume you’ll keep that confidential.”

      Marshall smiled. “Of course. So, as his business manager, you would be aware of his financial affairs, other sources of income, etcetera?”

      “Sure.”

      “So, what was the state of his affairs?”

      “You mean did he blow it all on dope and hookers?” Avery gave a brief chuckle as he adjusted himself in the chair. “Not a chance. I’ve never seen a more level-headed eighteen-year-old. God knows there are some guys out there, a lot longer in the tooth, who would see that kind of cash and just lose it. Not Curtis. He was really grounded for a young man.”

      “So he didn’t run out and buy a Lamborghini?”

      Avery smiled and fiddled with a cufflink. “A Porsche — leased, I think — but that was really it in terms of making a splash. He didn’t want to rush into buying a house or a condo, so he was renting. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he was paying a bomb in rent, but it wasn’t out of whack with his sudden wealth. His biggest investment was in his mom’s house up around Peterborough. That says a lot about him.”

      “Did he have any other significant income, from endorsements or stuff like that?” Smith asked.

      Avery sighed. “You can’t begin to imagine what a tragedy this is, in every sense. We were this close …” he squeezed his thumb and index finger together in front of his face. “… to one of the biggest, if not the biggest, endorsement deals in Canadian history. I swear to God, we were less than a week away from signing. Now …”

      Smith scribbled some notes, trying to determine whether Avery’s anguish was more over the loss of his commission than his young client, as Marshall asked the next question.

      “You knew him pretty well, then?”

      Avery nodded. “He was a great kid. Like I said, very grounded. Wise beyond his years, but he still had that youthful innocence, you know? That’s where I came in …”

      “Do you know if he had a girlfriend?”

      “Nothing serious, I don’t think. You can imagine he had girls throwing themselves at him, literally. But he was even level-headed in that department. I’m not saying he was a monk or anything — let’s face it, most eighteen-year-olds are walking bags of hormones. But he was very careful.”

      “His mom mentioned a waitress in Peterborough….”

      “That was such bullshit,” Avery scoffed. “Some local yokel got knocked up and tried to pin it on Curtis. She hired a lawyer but, like I said, it was BS and it never went anywhere.”

      “Did she actually file a lawsuit?”

      “No, it never got that far. She realized Curtis wasn’t just going to fold his tent, so she gave up.”

      “What was her name?”

      “Ridgeway. Mandy Ridge — No, Nancy Ridgeway.”

      Smith scribbled the name in his notebook. “What about her lawyer?”

      “Some small-town hack. I can’t remember his name, but I’ve got his letters if you want copies.”

      “Copies would be great, thanks.”

      “Apart from Ms. Ridgeway, did Curtis have any enemies?”

      “I’m sure he had lots: goalies with blown goals-against averages, defencemen with minus ratings. Curtis had a tendency to wreak havoc with opposing teams.”

      “I was thinking more of the off-the-ice variety,” Marshall said.

      Avery shook his head. “No, he really was a pretty likeable kid.”

      Smith noticed Avery had begun to fidget a bit. “What about on the ice, did he have any major run-ins?”

      “Naw, nothing serious. Curtis wasn’t a scrapper, and anyway, he had plenty of protection on the ice. Anyone who tried to start something with him would find themselves squaring off with the team goon. You know what I’m saying?”

      Marshall continued with some more questions before wrapping up the interview, but not before Avery had asked the question of the day.

      “You guys have any idea who could have done this?”

      “Not yet, but we’ll find him, don’t you worry.”

      “I guess you’ll be under pressure from the moment the papers come out tomorrow. I don’t envy you. The media’ll have a field day with this. My phone’s been ringing off the hook all afternoon.”

      “Well, thanks for your time,