The Missing Party-Girl: A Rags-to-Riches Cozy Mystery Romance

by Nhys Glover

  “There’s only one man who’s going to be able to tell us what we need to know. Owen Jeffers. If he’s still alive, that is,” Cage answered. “And now we at least know that his alibi for the afternoon in question was solid. It doesn’t mean he didn’t kill Georgie, but it does mean that the only person who can tell us for sure is the demon spawn himself.”

  Adie grimaced. “I thought I’d left such religious fanaticism behind me.”

  Cage chuckled darkly. “He is a bit of a fanatic. But Islamic and Christian fundamentalists have a lot in common. Both are heavily judgmental and sure they have all the answers.”

  “So, what now?” Adie asked.

  “Now I ring Detective Chief Inspector Adams,” Cage said.

  While she watched the passing cars and people, Cage made his call. In a few minutes he was pocketing his phone, an expression of satisfaction on his handsome face.

  “Well, it seems the demon spawn is still alive and imprisoned at HMP Belmarsh in Thamesmead. That’s in south east London, it seems. Adams said he’d arrange a special visit for us, as Jeffers is in the hospital wing. He’s receiving medical care for prostate cancer. It’s stage 4 and he’s terminal.”

  Adie let out heavy breath. Would this be better or worse for them? “How old is he?”

  Cage frowned. “Old. I mean… he was forty back in 1965 so he’s in his nineties now. I had a quick read through his interview. Cocky bastard, that was for sure. How does someone like that live so long in prison?”

  Adie shrugged. She would have thought prison would shorten anyone’s life. Or maybe if the man was forced to give up drugs and alcohol it had allowed him to survive longer than he might have done on the outside. Maybe his criminal contacts made him a force to be reckoned with on the inside.

  “Is a life sentence actually for life?” Adie asked.

  Cage shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Chapter 7

  The next morning they took the Thames Clipper from the Embankment Pier to Woolwich Terminal, which the concierge told them would take about thirty minutes. The ferries left every twenty minutes, so it was the fastest way to make their way across the city, and the most picturesque. He was right. On the short journey to Woolwich they saw London Bridge and the Tower of London from a different perspective and the Cutty Sark at the Greenwich Maritime Museum, as well as other lesser known but just as interesting sights...

  A taxi ride from the pier and they were at the imposing prison. After being closely scrutinized—as if they were the criminals—they were eventually led on a circuitous journey to the hospital wing. Adie hated the feeling inside the prison. The clang of barred gates opening and closing sent her stress levels through the roof, making her bout of claustrophobia so intense all she wanted to do was escape. For her in those frightening moments, not even a million pounds seemed worth their descent into the realms of hell.

  Of course, she knew she was making more of it than there was. It wasn’t horrific. No tortured bodies lined the halls. No agonized screams split the air. Occasionally, she heard the tap-tap-tap of boots walking on concrete floors and the voices of men talking or calling out to each other. Nothing bad. Nothing awful. Yet still the ominous feel of the place, and the clank of those gates, beat at her resolve.

  Cage picked up on her anxiety. He took her hand in his big warm paw and squeezed it every time those gates opened and closed. It kept her from making good on her escape. It kept her sane.

  Eventually, they reached their goal. The man lying in the hospital bed was just as she imagined him: ancient, bald, and emaciated. He had an oxygen line strung under his nose, yet even so he rasped each breath as if it would be his last. Adie was reminded of the man they’d seen on the gurney at Ruby Embers’ home. It must be terrible to be old, sick, and waiting for death.

  Cold eyes glanced their way as they were led to Jeffers’ bed. From somewhere, plastic chairs were found for them. Guards stood by, ever watchful. If there were other inmates in other beds nearby, Adie couldn’t see them; a curtain had been drawn to block them from the visitors.

  “What do ya want?” the dying man demanded, his voice like a rusty nail scraping across concrete.

  Again, Cage did the talking while Adie sat quietly, trying to hide her fear from the hawkish, rheumy eyes. She knew the old man was gloating at the fear he instilled in her.

  “We’re looking into a cold case. A girl who used to work for you at The Den. Georgie Wyatt.”

  The ancient man turned from studying Adie to take in Cage skeptically. “Why? What’s it to you what ‘appened to that slag all those years ago?”

  Adie gritted her teeth at the awful word. That it came from this foul man’s mouth only made it worse.

  “Her flatmate recently died. In her will she asked her niece to find out what she could about Georgie.”

  “Minerva Reynolds, right? I’ve ‘eard tell a million pounds is in the offing,” he hissed out like a snake, his eyes now glued to hers again.

  How could a man so close to death look at her so lecherously? Surely he couldn’t still have a sex drive. But then, maybe the look was meant to unsettle her, nothing more. If that was its purpose, then it was working too well. Adie knew one of the first things she’d do when she got back to the hotel was take a shower. A very long, hot shower.

  “Winsley has told you what’s at stake,” Cage said, guessing the source of this man’s knowledge.

  “The toff? Yeah, he flapped his gob quite a bit while he was ‘ere. Told me he’d make it worff my while if I led you on a wild goose chase. You want me to send you on a wild goose chase, Little Lady. Quite the pretty one, ain’t ya? Maybe a little more flesh on your bones than I like, but you’ll do. Aye, you’ll do.”

  “I’d like you to tell the truth,” Adie said, finding courage from somewhere deep inside her to deal with the old man. “Money won’t be much use to you where you’re going.”

  He reminded her too much of her stepfather, she realized. If her stepfather had lived, he might have ended up just like this loathsome specimen of humanity.

  “True enough. True enough. And I don’t have no family to give it to, so yeah, you’re right. Money don’t mean much to me now. So, maybe I won’t send you on a wild goose chase after all. I might just tell you the truff and clear my conscience a little, at least.”

  Adie’s heartbeat sped up. Was he about to tell them what happened to Georgie? Could it be this simple?

  The silence that followed his declaration lasted too long. Cage’s jaw clenched as if he saw the game the old man was playing. In his own way, this bastard was leeching every moment of attention out of the situation as Ruby Embers had done.

  “It’ll cost ya though, Little Lady. Are you willin’ to pay the price?”

  Cage growled, his fists clenching.

  “I’m not one of your girls, Mr. Jeffers. And you’re too old for what you’re suggesting,” Adie said, keeping her voice neutral, even as her stomach threatened to revolt.

  The old man let out a raspy sigh. “Aye, you’re right on that, Little Miss. But it was worff a try. All right then, I’ll tell you what you want to know. I had nuffin’ to do with that slag’s disappearance. I gave her an ultimatum and she quit. I never saw ‘er again.”

  “But did you put a hit out on her? I imagine you didn’t like getting knocked back,” Cage said through gritted teeth.

  The inmate cackled, before a panicked wheeze replaced the mirthless sound. When he recovered, Jeffers wiped his drooling mouth with the back of his hand and went on as if nothing had happened.

  “If I put out a hit on every chit that knocked me back I’d’ve been broke. And I weren’t broke. Not then, or now. I tried it on with all the prettiest ones. If they said no, I fired ‘em. That was punishment enough, in my books.”

  Adie considered this news. She supposed it made sense. Why would one girl knocking him back mean more to him than any other? Certainly not enough to pay good money to have her killed.

  “Why are you still
in jail, Mr. Jeffers?” Adie asked, curiosity overtaking fear.

  “I might ‘ave ‘ad a few altercations inside. If ya get my drift. The penal system makes it impossible to survive if you don’t show these low-lives who’s boss. But then you’re punished even more. I knew long ago that this place was where I’d die. The only thing I regret is the lack of female companionship. But I’ve made do. I can always make do with what’s on ‘and.”

  Shuddering, Adie knew exactly what the foul man was implying. How many poor, young men had been sodomized by this creep?

  Cage stood up suddenly, sending his chair skittering backwards and bringing the guard to instant alertness.

  He grabbed Adie’s arm. “Come on, we’re out of here.”

  The rusty sound of the old man’s wheezing laughter followed them all the way down the corridor.

  The ride back to their hotel was a silent one. The clipper was more crowded than it had been on the outward journey and what they had to say was not something that should be overheard. Anyway, Adie had no desire to talk. The trip to the prison had been too unsettling. And her frustration that it had gained them nothing only added to her annoyance.

  Back in their hotel room, Cage went back to the files, his mood as sour as her own. Adie flopped into the closest chair and let out a loud sigh.

  “Do we believe him?” she asked, after she’d watched Cage busily rereading the files yet again.

  He looked up and glared at her. “Yeah, unfortunately, I believe the bastard. No reason for him to lie. Not going to alter his sentence to admit to a murder at this stage in his life. More’s the pity.”

  “It would have been nice for it all to be over. At least this mystery, at least. Now we’re back to square one.”

  “You still have Minerva’s journals. You never know what they might turn up. Its information Winsley hasn’t got, at least.”

  Adie sighed again, feeling her dejection seeping deeply into her soul. “If there was anything there, Minerva would have known back then. She was clutching at straws. That’s all this was. She didn’t expect us to succeed. She wanted us to, but she probably knew it was a lost cause.”

  Cage moved around so he was kneeling in front of her. Cupping her cheek in his palm, he made her meet his gaze.

  “This is a setback, nothing more. And we knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Not this time. But until we’ve exhausted all avenues, we have to keep trying. Okay?”

  Adie stared into his dark eyes, wondering why he was so determined. There was nothing in this for him. He got paid no matter what. Why was he so determined Winsley wasn’t getting any of the money?

  “What makes you so fiercely determined about this?” she asked carefully.

  Cage moved back hurriedly, his expression closing down. “It’s my job.”

  Adie shook her head. “No, I don’t think that’s it. Tell me, Cage. Please.”

  He looked back at her, his eyes filled with fire. “I’ve met guys like Winsley before. Guys who think the world owes them, just for existing. Guys who take whatever they want whenever they want it.”

  Adie nodded. “Okay, I get that. But where’s the fire coming from? I don’t mean to pry. It’s just that you know every one of my secrets, and I know none of yours.”

  Swearing loudly, Cage threw himself into a nearby armchair. The pages on the coffee table flew off onto the carpeted floor.

  “My personal life is my business,” he growled at her.

  “I know. I’m sorry… it’s just… I need to understand why this is so important to you. It’s more than a job. More than being a PI and enjoying the puzzle…It’s about Winsley.”

  “Not Winsley in particular,” he countered, before the wind went out of his sails. “Okay, if you must know. When I was in high school there was a kid like Winsley. His dad pretty much owned our town. Dad even did a bit of work for his father. Which meant I was the help in Dorian’s eyes. And he made fun of my skin and the fact I was adopted. But I could’ve taken all that because it wasn’t the first time that shit was thrown at me.

  “But then he decided he wanted this quiet girl in our class. She was pretty in a geeky way, you know? Big glasses that hid her pretty face. Hair always tied back so you couldn’t see how pretty it was.

  “Dorian started seeing her as a conquest. He didn’t want her for herself. It was more the fact that she wasn’t like most girls in our school who were after him. I guess he wanted the thrill of the chase. He started following her around, making outrageous offers, all of which she refused.

  “Her dad was an accountant in town, and of course his biggest client was Dorian’s dad. So, in the end, when everything else failed, Dorian threatened to get his dad to find another accountant if she didn’t sleep with him. It would have bankrupted the family. So she did it.

  “After that, he told every guy who’d listen just what she was like in the sack. The kids laughed and talked behind her back. She became the class whore, although from what I could make out she’d never slept with anyone but Dorian. He even started talking about offering her to his friends.”

  He stopped talking for a few moments. Long enough for me to remember the horrifying moments when Chad, the boy I thought I loved, had so openly rejected me in front of his friends.

  “She committed suicide.”

  That wasn’t what Adie expected. But she understood why the girl had felt driven to do such a thing. How many times after her rejection had she considered suicide? Humiliation ate at your soul until there was nothing left. Nothing good, that was.

  Adie hadn’t gone that far, back then, because she’d heard Chad had ended up being ‘mugged’. It was only recently that she discovered it was her uncle who had given him that beating. She’d always assumed it was God exacting punishment for his crimes.

  But the girl Cage had known must not have had an avenging angel in her life like Adie had.

  “How old was she?” Adie asked carefully.

  “Sixteen.”

  Another long, painful silence followed, before Cage went on. “I should have done something. I could have stopped it. But I just looked the other way because it wasn’t my business. And my dad also worked for Dorian’s dad. I thought it would all blow over… But it just got worse when nobody tried to stop him. And then she ended it her own way. When it got so bad she killed herself. And I did nothing to help her.”

  Cage glared at me, his dark eyes filled with unshed tears. “So I swore then and there that no fucker was ever going to get what he wanted just because he thought he deserved it.”

  Adie slid off her chair to drop down in front of Cage. She rested her head on his knee.

  “I’m sorry, Cage. I’m so sorry that happened. But it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Of course it was!” he snapped, trying to pull away from her. “I could have done something. I wasn’t a jock. Not as big as I am now. I was a late bloomer. But I could have done something. I should have done something.”

  “Yes, maybe you could have. But the way I see it, it was up to her friends and family to do something. None of them did, so it’s not all on you. But I get it. I get why you’re so determined that Winsley won’t win. So we’ll try again. Maybe there is something in Minerva’s journal that’ll help. I won’t give up. Not yet, anyway.”

  Cage rested his hand on my head, threading the strands of my hair through his fingers. “You’re really something, you know? You make this job far more enjoyable than I expected.”

  Chapter 8

  “Oh. My. God!” Adie exclaimed loudly from the front bedroom where she’d been searching for a piece of furniture mentioned in the recent list Hugo had sent her.

  Cage, who’d be doing much the same next door, clambered out of a tight space to go to her. “What?”

  “I’ve found the pink monstrosities! Oh, no wonder they were hidden right at the back. They’re bilious!” she cried back.

  Cage reached her door and peered in, following the sound of Adie’s voice. As soon as he spotted her, he also saw th
e corner of a pink headboard.

  “Didn’t we get a tentative valuation on those? Something like twenty thousand pounds?” Cage asked, leaning heavily on the doorframe.

  “Yeah. The designer was a big name, so it’ll fetch big bucks, no matter how hideous. No accounting for taste.”

  Cage chuckled.

  Adie peered around a closet to get a better look at the man who’d made the sound. It was the first time Cage had showed any amusement since their trip to London a few days ago. Not even Jig’s frantic antics of welcome after their two day absence had drawn a smile from his granite features. Their failure weighed too heavily on his shoulders. What he thought he could do that the police hadn’t been able to do, she didn’t know. But his need to keep Winsley from the money had become an obsession.

  Even with Cage’s dour mood, Adie had been thrilled to be home, delighted to see Jig, and over-the-moon to be sleeping in her own bed again. London had gained them nothing, but at least she now understood a little better what she was looking for. If there was something in Minerva’s journals, she’d be more likely to see it now.

  She grinned across the piles of furniture at her friend. “Any luck in the other room?”

  Cage continued to smile at her. It was like seeing the sun come out from behind the clouds.

  “Nope. I guess we’ll have to get the guys in to clear a bigger space,” he said, still smiling.

  Had she known all it would take was a pink bedroom suite to make the sun come out again, she would have made more of an effort to find it. But then, maybe it wasn’t so much the suite as his melancholy finally lifting of its own accord. The ghost of that dead girl was gone. For now, at least.

  Adie scrambled out from between stacks of antique chairs, carrying a prize she’d found in a draw. She had no idea why she found them interesting. But she’d long ago stopped worrying about her choices. Now she just went with whatever took her fancy and left it at that. After all, she didn’t answer to anyone anymore.