Paul watched in dismay as Riley buried her face in the pillow and started to sob.
“Don’t worry,” said Kelly. “The rest can wait.” He turned to Paul. “Let her get it all out, then take her to the doctor without delay. She may seem okay physically, but I guess the whole experience was a lot more traumatic than we thought. Meantime, we’ll take a look around the house and find out how and where they got in. The deck door seems a good place to start. After that, we’ll check the basement. Maybe they broke in there too.”
Riley was still crying. Paul tried to soothe her by holding her hand and rubbing her back.
“I think I’d better take her to the doctor right away,” he said. “Would you mind moving your car?”
“No problem,” Kelly replied. “Honk the horn when you want us to let you out.”
The two men went into the living room.
As it happened, Paul’s efforts to stop Riley crying took quite a while. For much of the time he could hear the two policemen in the basement below. As soon as he’d helped her dress, he dialed the doctor’s office to say they were leaving. He had just hung up when he heard Kelly and Taylor on the porch.
Paul opened the front door.
“We’re ready to leave for the doctor’s office,” he said. “But Riley’s a bit better now and I’m sure she’d like to know what you found. Shall we go back to the bedroom? “
Riley was sitting on the bed and looked up as they entered.
“We’ll start with how they gained entry,” said Taylor. “The lock on the deck door was forced, probably with a tire iron. Pried right out of the wood, it was. It would be easy enough to climb up and do that without waking anyone. Same thing with the basement door. What we found down there is quite a puzzle.”
Sergeant Kelly took up the story. “There’s a half-buried wooden chest with the lid broken open. Looks like it was partly covered by overlying clift. Someone smashed that to pieces. Bits of it are everywhere.”
“I guessed as much when I heard the thumping,” said Riley. “There’s nothing in the chest, I suppose?”
“No. But I’ll bet the contents was worth a bundle.”
“You’re darn right. I can tell you exactly what it was—Portuguese doubloons, and lots of them.”
The sergeant and the constable looked at each other.
Paul said, “Holy cow!”
“How did you find out?” Kelly asked.
“After the banging around they let out a cheer, when they opened the chest, I guess. They were so excited, I could hear what they were saying. The clift’s right under this room, you see.”
“I always thought doubloons were Spanish,” Kelly remarked. “Never mind, we’ll go into that later. At least we know they were after gold coins—they’ll be something to look for. I hope you feel better soon, Riley. We’ll be on our way now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Paul parked the Mustang at the clinic in Portugal Cove a little before noon. After a thorough examination, the doctor said there was no serious physical damage. The injured ankle would take a few days to heal, but the stiffness in Riley’s legs would disappear much sooner. Paul was called in after the examination, then Riley described some of the worst moments of her experience. The doctor looked very concerned, saying she needed rest and lots of it. He gave her a prescription for a mild sedative; it could be filled at the drug store further down the hill toward the bay.
When they got home, Riley had a soft-boiled egg followed by two of the pills, then she returned to bed. Paul had no compunction about calling in sick so he could have the night off.
Chapter Nineteen
Aftermath
Tuesday morning dawned cool and bright with September sunshine. Paul had set the alarm so that he and Riley would have plenty of time for breakfast before Kelly and Taylor returned at nine o’clock. Riley sat up with a jerk when she heard it go off but calmed down as soon as she saw Paul.
He opened his eyes and struggled to a sitting position. “How do you feel, Riley-girl?”
“A bit dizzy. How long did I sleep?”
“Dunno exactly. Close to twenty hours, I’d guess. I expect it was those pills. How about breakfast in bed?”
“You’re an angel, but maybe I’d better get up. You can put on the coffee if you like.”
When Riley stood beside the bed, her back ached but the ankle didn’t hurt. Her mind seemed clear and generally untroubled.
After breakfast, Paul started more coffee for the RCMP officers. They soon arrived and everyone took their seats around the dining table, Constable Taylor’s notebook at the ready. Riley described what had happened during the small hours of Monday morning and was surprised how little it bothered her.
“You did that very well,” said John Kelly as soon as she finished. “The problem is, that although we know what these people were doing in your basement, we have no idea where they’ve gone. The next step is to get someone over to check the place out. He’ll take some pictures of the deck door as well. Once he’s done that, you can have the locks repaired.”
“I’ll get Juan Santos to do it,” said Riley. “He’s the man who fixed the bullet hole. I’m sure he’ll be interested to hear what happened.”
Kelly laughed. “You can bet it’ll be all over town in a couple of hours. Incidentally, we’ve asked the News to do a short article in tomorrow’s paper requesting information on our behalf. I told them not to bother you.”
“Thanks, John. That was very thoughtful.”
“One good thing’s come out of all this,” Kelly continued. “The robbery explains all of those unpleasant things that have happened since you moved in. And that includes the murder of Jonathan Hynes.”
“I see what you’re getting at,” said Paul. “Those guys were trying to frighten Riley so she’d leave the house and they could steal the coins without anyone knowing. They might have poisoned Uncle Richard as well.”
“Unfortunately, he was cremated so we’ll never know for sure,” said Kelly.
Constable Taylor turned to Riley. “By the way, in case you hadn’t realized, those coins belong to the province, not to the property owner. They’re historic relics—treasure trove if you like.”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Riley replied. “But then I hadn’t thought about having a fortune stolen either.”
“I’ll have a statement typed up for you both to sign,” said Kelly. “There’s no hurry. Tomorrow afternoon will be fine.”
The two policemen headed for the door.
“Back in a minute,” said Paul and followed them to the cruiser.
As Riley was taking the empty coffee mugs to the kitchen, it came to her that sleeping alone in the house while Paul was on night shift was out of the question. The obvious answer was to stay with Jean again.
She heard the front door close.
“It’s about time to pick up the paper,” Paul said as he came into the kitchen. “I’ll walk down and get some fresh air.”
“Tell Doris ‘hi’ for me, will you? And see if she’s got some of her homegrown tomatoes while you’re at it, and some eggs too.” Riley followed Paul to the back door. “I think I’ll ask Jean if I can sleep over. It’s much too creepy to stay here on my own.”
“I was going to suggest that. If there’s a problem, I’ll see if I can wangle another night off.”
Riley watched through the open door as he disappeared down the footpath to Dog Cove Road, then she went to the phone and dialed Jean’s work number. Her friend answered at once.
“Hi, Jean,” said Riley. “Can you do me a big favor? You see, something bad happened early on Monday morning…” She went on to give a very brief account of the robbery. “You can understand I’m afraid to sleep here alone while Paul’s on nights. I was wondering—”
“How terrible for you! Poor thing, you must be stressed out of your mind. Of course you can sleep over. Look, it’s kind of busy now. I’ll stop by on the way home.”
“Why not have dinner with us? It’s a while
since we’ve seen you.”
“That would be lovely. Are you sure you can manage?”
“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”
Riley hung up and suddenly felt drowsy so she went to the bedroom for a short lie down before Paul returned.
When she awoke, she heard him doing something in the kitchen and glanced at the clock radio. It was the middle of the afternoon. A moment later, he appeared at the door.
“I thought you might be awake,” he said. “Is it okay to stay with Jean?”
“Absolutely. You know, my love, I swear we’re telepathic—I only just woke up. Anyway, Jean was very sympathetic, and I invited her to eat with us. She’ll take me to her place when you leave for work.”
“That’s a relief. Doris nearly had a fit when I told her.”
Riley held out her hands. “Give me a lift up, sweetie. I’m a bit stiff after sleeping. Besides, it’s an excuse for a hug.”
As soon as they saw Jean’s Pinto coming up the driveway, Riley and Paul went outside to meet her.
“What a horrible experience,” Jean said as she opened the car door.
“You can say that again,” Riley answered. “How about a look at the basement, which is where it all happened? We can’t go inside ‘til the police have finished groveling around, but you can see everything from the door.”
Riley explained about the gold coins while Jean looked at the bits of broken rock and the remains of the ancient wooden chest.
“You said there was a woman in the group,” she said as they made their way back up the garden path. “I know it’s a long shot, but do you think it was Bethany O’Shea? She was putting a lot of pressure on you to sell, right?”
“I’d completely forgotten about her but she didn’t seem particularly sinister to me, just a bloody nuisance.”
Paul shut the front door behind them as they went into the living room. “Why don’t you guys see if she’s at home? You can hang up if she answers the phone. I’ll start the dinner while you make the call.”
“I hope omelette’s okay,” said Riley.
“One of my favorites,” Jean replied. “I’ll find the number and you can dial.”
They tried O’Shea’s office as well as her home, but only got answering machines.
“It doesn’t actually mean anything,” said Riley as they set the table. “But still…”
At this point, Riley remembered she hadn’t told Jean that Jonathan had been involved. That, she decided, could wait until after the meal.
The time seemed right while they were having coffee. She described how the man with the knife had said that Jonathan had been murdered because he wanted too much. Happily, Jean didn’t seem too upset.
Soon after Paul left for work, she drove Riley to her house.
On Wednesday morning, Jean dropped Riley at home on her way to the library. Paul arrived a little after half past eight, completely exhausted. It had seemed an unusually long night and he was ready for bed. Riley was just about to leave for a doctor’s appointment to have her ankle checked.
The doctor declared that it was healing well and applied a band-aid instead of a bandage.
“Take the dressing off when you go to bed tonight,” he said. “And keep an eye on the ankle for the next few days.”
That was one small thing out of the way. Next, she headed for home via the supermarket.
Just as she finished putting away the groceries, the phone rang. Worried it would wake up Paul, Riley swore softly then answered with a terse, “Hello.”
“This is Martin McGrath, Riley. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I was wondering how you are.”
“Tired, but otherwise okay, thanks. I guess you heard what happened?”
“Sergeant Kelly called. Said he thought I should know. I’m very worried about you. If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to contact me.”
Riley was about to mention Jean’s idea about the involvement of Bethany O’Shea, then stopped herself—but why? She hadn’t the faintest idea.
“It’s nice of you to call, Mr. McGrath,” she said. “But I’m fine.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Please keep in touch.”
“Of course I will.”
Riley replaced the receiver then the phone rang yet again. She snatched it off the cradle. This was getting a bit much. Still, it was nice that people cared.
“‘Ello, Riley,” said Charlie Fudge. “Doris told me what ‘appened. Thought I’d put in my two cents worth.”
“Thanks, Charlie. It was pretty bad at the time, but I’m feeling a lot better now.”
“That’s good to ‘ear. Drop in next time you’re goin’ past and I’ll make you a present of an oil change.”
Riley laughed. “Charlie, that’s sweet of you. I’ll take you up on it. That’s a promise.”
She replaced the receiver, then cautiously opened the bedroom door. Paul was dead to the world, thank goodness.
There were no more phone calls. After a rest and lunch, Riley made sure that the house was shut up then took a turn around the lawn. The garden was looking distinctly autumnal. The tired leaves on the birch trees were taking a fresh lease on life in their new fall yellow, while the remains of frosted flowers nodded on their stems. She shuddered at the thought of winter storms to come and glanced at her watch. It was time to head for the RCMP building on Topsail Road to sign her statement for John Kelly.
She arrived to find the sergeant standing at the front desk. He opened the wicket and showed her to a small, windowless room containing a table with two chairs on opposite sides.
“Is this where you interrogate suspects?” Riley asked with a smile.
“You could say that,” Kelly replied, putting a typed sheet of paper in front of her. “I’m a little short of time, so take this away and read it, if you’d rather.”
“There’s no need, John. I trust you. But what about Paul’s statement?”
Kelly handed Riley a pen. “A car has to go to the airport this evening and the officer will drop by the weather office. You might like to warn him.”
“When will your people photograph my broken door locks? I’d like to get them fixed.”
“They’re supposed to do that this afternoon, sometime around four.”
“Great. Paul will be up by then so they won’t disturb him. One other thing. Have you heard of Bethany O’Shea, the real estate agent?” Riley went on to describe how Ms. O’Shea had tried to persuade her to sell the house by offering large sums of money, and how she seemed preoccupied with the basement during her last visit at the end of August.
“Interesting,” Kelly remarked. “Very interesting indeed. The woman’s well worth investigating. We’ll have to consult our colleagues in the Newfoundland Constabulary on this. They know a lot more about what goes on downtown than we do. Now it’s my turn to pass on some information. We went back to Jonathan Hynes’ apartment and gave it another going over. Somehow or other, we’d missed two pages that had been torn out of a coin catalogue. They were hidden in a cookbook.”
“And the coins were Portuguese and very valuable?” said Riley.
“You’re getting close. The ones illustrated were worth a lot, but what interested us was a description of a very old, rather similar coin. Only a few are known to exist and they are extremely valuable. There was no illustration.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Riley. “Now we know what it’s all about, don’t we?”
“I guess we do.” Sergeant Kelly pushed back his chair. “I’ve gotta go now, Riley. By the way, did you see the article in the News?”
“Not yet. I forgot to pick up a paper. I’ll do that on the way home.”
Kelly accompanied her to the outside entrance.
“I’ll call you later,” he said. “And it’s good to see you’re up and about.”
“Thanks, John, It’s been quite a revealing visit.”
As she approached Doris’s store, Riley suddenly remembered that her parents were due back in Canberra from New Zealand on Frid
ay. The problem was, how much could she say about Monday? If she told them everything, they’d both be on the next flight home, which would be unnecessary to say the least. By the time she turned into the driveway, she had figured it out. Leave a short greeting on their answering machine before they got back and tell them she’d call in a day or two. That would give her time to decide how much to say.
Chapter Twenty
Uncle’s Lover
They went out to dinner on Saturday evening. The excuse was to celebrate the end of Paul’s night shifts and the end of Riley’s persecution—both, they hoped, forever. As a way of snubbing their noses at the powers that be that had decreed Paul’s layoff, they chose the most expensive eating place they could think of, the Hotel Newfoundland. When the meal was over, it was clear that neither was fit to drive after the superb wine they had chosen, so there was nothing for it but to stay the night. It was hardly an erotic adventure, but for Riley, it was a night to be remembered for always, another important step in their bonding. Paul, she suspected, would remember it for the gastronomic delights.
As a result, it was early afternoon on the following day when they finally returned home, bloated once more with a delectable Sunday brunch.
“I’m never going to eat again,” Riley commented, staggering across the living room and flopping on the couch. She pressed both hands to her belly. “Look at it, Paul. You’re stuck with the eternal bulge.”
Paul grinned as he leaned over and kissed it, then they snuggled up together. Thirty seconds later, the telephone rang.
“On, no!” cried Paul. “We should have taken it off the hook.”
“We’ll get an answering machine like Jean’s,” said Riley.
Paul went to the phone and picked up the receiver. After a short pause, he said, “Hello, Mr. McGrath. She’s here. Hang on a second.”
Riley hurried across the room. “I didn’t know you worked on Sunday,” she said. “It must be important.”
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