The Loch Ness Papers

by Paige Shelton

  “You’re the best,” I said.

  “Well, I’m marrying the best, so I’d better be.”

  I liked it when we verged on nauseating.

  Elias promised to be the driver again, but Aggie had guesthouse duties, Tom had to work, and Edwin was curious enough about Millie to want to come along with me. Besides, he said he had something to talk to me about and the trip to Millie’s flat would give us some privacy.

  After we bid everyone else goodbye, Edwin grabbed a brollie from a shelf by the front door, commenting on our growing collection. I played innocent, and we took off on the short walk to Millie’s flat. I’d called her earlier, and though she hadn’t sounded thrilled by us stopping by she’d sighed and said we would be welcome.

  I shared with Edwin the details of Tom’s and my visit with Norval. He didn’t like the idea of forced medication, but we both thought that Inspector Winters would watch Norval carefully. He hoped Norval had told the police the truth of his actions the morning of the murder. I did too. I would let Inspector Winters know what he’d said, but I was giving Norval a chance to come clean himself first.

  “Are you going tae search for the knife again?” Edwin asked.

  “I think so, even though I think we would have seen it if it was there. Want to come with me after we talk to Millie?”

  “I do.”

  “You’re distracted, though. What did you want to talk about?” I asked as we turned a corner and both of us eyed the threatening clouds above. No rain yet, but it was on the way.

  “Aye. I can’t stop thinking about Mr. Murdoch. I believe he’s left Scotland, but … I keep thinking about his story, and the more I think about it, the more I believe it didn’t happen.”

  “You think he lied?”

  “I don’t want tae believe that he lied. I want tae believe he was mistaken, or the story was just something his grandfather wrote on a note tae entertain him in some way, though I don’t think that makes much sense.”

  “Do you think you should give the book back to him?”

  “Not really, though I do think I should give it back tae him if it isn’t mine. I’ve tried tae figure out what he might be up tae, if he is up tae something. What would be the point of making up a story? He hasn’t seemed the least bit curious about the warehouse, so I don’t think he’s someone who’s heard about it and is intrigued. After going through things in my mind more than a few times now, I wonder if he might have stolen the book from another bookshop, maybe one here in Edinburgh.”

  “Really? Why such a story, then? I can’t pinpoint a motive to do such a thing.”

  “I’ve been trying to figure that out. Maybe he stole it and bringing it into the shop was a way tae hide his theft, but I don’t see how. He refused tae take it back. What else would be behind it?”

  I’d met few people as smart as or smarter than Edwin, but it seemed that Angus had him confused. It didn’t make sense that Angus would steal the book and bring it to Edwin, but if that was what happened, there must have been a solid reason for him to have done so.

  “Do you think you actually knew his grandfather, and maybe something happened between the two of you?”

  “Maybe. But I don’t remember knowing him.”

  “Let’s ask other shops in town if they’re missing the book. We’re part of that Facebook group, remember? Do you want me to post a question? I’d been working under the assumption that the book was Angus’s and then with everything else I haven’t done one thing to check the provenance. Maybe there’s a clue there somewhere.”

  “I thought about that, but no, I don’t want you to ask the group. Delaney, while there are many booksellers I am friends with and whom I trust, there are some that I don’t. I don’t want tae start asking questions when I don’t already have more of the answers.”

  “Okay. What should we do?”

  “How would you feel about you or me asking Inspector Winters if any of the shops have reported the book stolen?”

  “Good idea.”

  “Well, I think so, but I wanted your input. He doesn’t trust me and I don’t want tae make you look guilty of anything.”

  I sighed. “I’m afraid neither you nor I are considered absolutely innocent, Edwin, but we haven’t done anything wrong, and I believe Inspector Winters is thorough enough to trust us.”

  “All right, then. We’ll give him a ring when we’re done here.”

  The narrow brick facade of the three-story building was decorated with small gargoyle statues. They weren’t attached to the building but arranged on stoops on each side of the dark wood door.

  I confirmed that Millie Fraser was on the list next to the buzzers and pushed the button.

  A long, silent moment later I buzzed again.

  “Who is it?” an old woman’s voice said from the small speaker.

  “Delaney Nichols. I called this morning. I’m here with my boss, Edwin.”

  “Who?”

  I repeated myself, and when she grumbled incomprehensible complaints, I thought we were being turned away. But she buzzed us in.

  There was no lift. I’d been in several buildings in Edinburgh with no elevators, but as we climbed the stairs up to the third floor, I wondered how the woman attached to the old voice maneuvered the stairs every day. The building was clean, with beige linoleum over the floors and a black wrought-iron banister that guided us up a polished wood stairs. It was a beautiful place, full of character.

  The door to room number 402 was ajar so we pushed through as we announced ourselves.

  “Well, come on in, then,” Millie said, sitting on an old, towel-covered, leather recliner. A walker was propped on one side of the recliner; a tall lamp with a table extending around the pole in its middle sat on the other side. The table was covered in used and unused tissues, medicine bottles, and a fanned and frayed paperback.

  Millie seemed much older than Norval, and Norval seemed old. Millie’s short, gray hair was sparse over her head. Her thick glasses magnified runny eyes on a face made of wrinkles and a sour frown.

  She coughed, grabbed a tissue, and put it to her mouth as she coughed some more. She nodded toward the couch; obediently, Edwin and I took a seat. The brown furniture reminded me of the scratchy fabric that had covered my grandmother’s couch. I could feel the itch already coming through my jeans.

  The flat looked like it had been furnished and decorated sometime in the 1960s or ’70s and hadn’t been updated since. However, everything was clean and in good shape. The entire space was charming and would probably make a popular link to pictures of a bygone time. The only mess I saw was made up of the used tissues on the lamp’s table and overflowing from a small garbage bin beside the chair.

  Once the coughing fit stopped, Millie looked at us with impatience. “Ye’ve come tae talk about my daft brother?”

  “Well, yes,” I said. “Edwin met him years ago, and I did recently. Edwin owns a bookshop, The Cracked Spine. I work for him. Norval wanted Edwin, years ago, and then me recently, to continue his work.”

  “Of course he did, the wee pain in my arse,” she said. “I wish ye would have taken the papers and burned them all. I wish someone would.”

  “They’ve been quite a burden, then?” Edwin said.

  Millie laughed with a noise that was a cross between a hack and a cackle. “They’ve been a curse. No, he’s been a curse. My brother’s the curse.”

  “How has he hurt anyone?” I asked, not trying to hide my sudden dislike for her.

  She didn’t seem to mind my tone. “Imagine living your life having tae take care of yer brother, make sure he’s fed, takes a bath every now and then, and has food on his table. It’s a full-time job, and now without Gavin tae help, I’m sure both Norval and I will wither away tae dust.” She paused and shook her head to herself. “I told the police the same thing, mind, and they dinnae care in the least.”

  I tried to imagine it, taking care of a sibling all her life. But it wasn’t as if Norval needed constant care, wa
s it? He just needed people to check on him.

  “I’m sure it’s been difficult,” Edwin said. “And, we’re terribly sorry for your loss.”

  “Loss-es, ye mean? I lost my great-nephew and my brother all in one fell swoop.”

  “Aye,” Edwin said.

  “Do you think your brother killed Gavin?” I asked.

  “No! Of course he didnae, but I cannae prove a thing. Told that tae the police too. They just looked at me like I was the daft one. I’m not daft, I’m old!” She shook her head again and dabbed at the corner of her nose with a tissue. “Norval adored our nephew.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  Chances were pretty good that Millie wasn’t a hateful old woman, but one who was grieving and, as she’d said, old. I needed more sympathy, less judgment.

  “Millie,” I said more gently now, “what if Gavin threatened to take Norval’s papers and sell them?”

  She sat up straighter and blinked a few times. “Never would have happened.”

  “Probably not, but what if it did?” I persisted, but I wouldn’t mention the row I’d heard about.

  She shook her head again. “Norval would have burned his papers before taking money for them, before letting Gavin sell them while he was alive. Even for Gavin, he wouldnae have allowed money tae change hands. He would have burned his papers to ashes.” She leaned forward in her chair. “However, once Norval was gone away tae the dead, he wouldnae cared what Gavin did with the papers. If he couldnae find someone tae continue his work, he wouldnae cared what happened after he passed.”

  I nodded. He’d told me as much the night before. “What happened to Norval, Millie? You don’t believe your father was acquainted with Nessie? That he was taken by her?”

  She sighed out of her mouth. It came out tinged with a wheeze and I felt even more badly for her. “I don’t know if he knew the creature or not. I ken though that he ran away from us the day after filling Norval’s head with stories, off with a woman other than our dear, sweet mother, may she rest in peace. That sort of thing was bound to influence all of us, and it did, but it hurt sweet Norval the most. Imagine being a wee lad and yer da did what our da did tae him. And we didnae have all the resources tae take care of making sure our brother was all right. Now we have doctors and people tae talk tae about such things, but not then. And it’s far too late tae fix Norval. It’s been too late for a long, long time.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. I looked at Edwin and then back at Millie. “Do you believe in Nessie?”

  She brought her eyebrows together and sent me a stern stare. “It’s not a matter of believin’ or not believin’. She’s real, tae be sure, lass. All ye have tae do is,” I thought she was going to say “have faith” or something similar, but she surprised me, “look long enough. She’s there, just waiting. I have no time for ye if ye need me tae convince ye. I’ll not even try.” She punctuated her words with a strong blow of her nose.

  “Do you know the woman who your father left with?” I asked.

  “Aye, of course. I remember her still. She was young and beautiful and my da was taken by her, so much so that he left the family he loved. And he did love us—until he met Flora Folsom, and then she blinded him tae the rest of us.”

  “Do you know where they went?” Edwin asked.

  “No, I never wanted tae know. My sister and mother never wanted tae know either. We told everyone not tae tell Norval. We told everyone not tae tell us a word. Maybe it was a mistake, but it seemed like the right thing tae do at the time.”

  I sat up straighter. “Does that mean that some people knew?”

  “Certainly. Our mother took us away from Wikenton shortly after Da left. We moved here tae Edinburgh. And it wasnae easy, mind, my mom an uneducated, country woman, but she made do. Here, we wernae everyone’s blether. She thought it would be better for all of us that way.” Millie shrugged. “Who’s tae say if she was right or not? And she could never have predicted what Norval’s problems would turn into, she never could have known that he’d become the subject of the blether. Och, ’tis all a long time ago.”

  It was and it wasn’t, but I didn’t want her to dwell on the recent tragedies. “Is anyone left in Wikenton who would know where your father went?”

  “I didnae ken if anyone even lives there anymore. Who’s still alive?”

  “Ava is,” I said. “Norval’s girlfriend, or something like that.”

  “Och, not girlfriend. She was kind tae us when we went back over the years and over time she came tae care for my brother as he continued to visit Loch Ness on his own, but even she knew he was too much work. Too much.”

  I looked at Edwin, who nodded at me. I didn’t know why I needed to gather my courage for the next question, but I did. “We saw the film with the tail,” I said. “I think you were the one holding the camera.”

  Millie’s mouth fell open and her runny eyes blinked heavily behind her glasses. “Aye,” she said quietly.

  “You remember that?” I asked.

  “I do.”

  “Was it real?”

  “What does that mean?” she snapped. “Did we put something in the water and make it look like a tail? No, lass, we didnae make it up.”

  “But, was it real, Ms. Fraser?” Edwin asked.

  “That’s up tae you tae decide,” she said.

  I still wasn’t sure, but I was believing more and more every day, and I really wanted to go back to Loch Ness.

  “I see,” Edwin said.

  Millie continued. “I moved on. My sweet, strong mother tried tae move along, my sister moved along, but Norval just couldnae.” She shook her head again. “I ken he’s in hospital. I think it would be best if they keep him there, but not because he killed anyone, mind, but because he needs the help. I hope they help him.”

  “I do too,” I said. I hoped they helped him, but I also hoped he’d be free again someday if he didn’t kill Gavin.

  I looked at Edwin. He didn’t have any other questions. I turned to Millie again.

  “I’m so sorry about Gavin.”

  “Aye, the wee lad,” she said as tears filled her eyes again. “He made some mistakes tae be sure, and it seems he’s had tae pay for them. I wish I knew the people he worked with. If I did, I imagine I could spot his killer. As it is, I’m useless, an old woman stuck in her flat, unable tae do much of anything.”

  “What can we do for you?” I said. “Can we go grocery shopping? We have plenty of time today.”

  “No, lass, thank ye, though.” She smiled for the first time since we’d arrived. “I’ll be okay for a few days. I have help here in the building.”

  Edwin reached for his wallet and pulled out a card.

  “Please call me or Delaney if you need anything at all,” he said.

  “I’m sure I’ll have tae move into a home,” she said. “I’ve got tae come tae terms with the idea and soon, now since Gavin and Norval are gone.”

  I wanted to remind her that Norval really wasn’t gone, but that seemed impertinent.

  “You know, Millie, I have some friends who have a lovely place. Would it be presumptuous of me tae send them over tae talk tae you?” Edwin said.

  “I … weel, I dinnae ken.”

  We fixed her a fruit and cookie plate and some tea before we left. She gave Edwin permission to send over his friends, and she seemed to appreciate the snack. But she was tired and glad to get rid of us so she could close her eyes for a bit.

  “You know someone at a lovely old folks’ home?” I asked as we walked down the stairs in between the gargoyles.

  “Aye.” He winked at me. “Or I will very soon.”

  “All right. Let me call Inspector Winters on the way to Norval’s flat. Let’s grab the bus from that stop.” I pointed. I knew the bus system well by now.

  “Very good, I’ll make some calls as we go too,” Edwin said.

  He became so busy making sure Millie was taken care of that he seemed to enjoy the bus ride, a form of transportation I’d never seen him take
. Maybe it was just Millie he’d enjoyed.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Edwin and I felt defeated by the time we made it back to the bookshop. Inspector Winters didn’t tell us what Norval had said to the police the night before. He did, however, tell me that he would look into a possible stolen King Arthur book but he hadn’t heard of any, and we didn’t find a Nessie knife in Norval’s flat—we looked everywhere, more than once.

  However, it was only shortly after we were inside the warehouse that Edwin did receive a call back from someone with a lovely home for the elderly. He excused himself to his office, crossing his fingers at me as he left. He was determined to help Millie. She’d be in good hands.

  I tried to call Ava again. She answered the phone but then hung up on me before I could ask her where Leopold Fraser and Flora Folsom ran off to. She did not like talking on the phone. I wished I’d written down the other Wikenton resident’s name and phone number so I could call and ask him to ask her, but I hadn’t.

  The good news was that I finally got to show my family the warehouse. They returned after lunch an hour or so later and it seemed the right time to share my work space.

  “This is … your office?” Mom said as even in the shadowed light I saw her eyes get big.

  “This is it.” I walked to the wall and flipped up the switch.

  “This is amazing,” Dad said. “Is it a bunch of junk, or is it all worth something?”

  “Some of both.” I put my hands on my hips as I thought back to the first time I’d seen it, and tried to look at it through their fresh eyes.

  A smallish, cramped space in the back of the building, its walls reached up the full two stories and were topped off by short but wide windows that let in some natural light, and kept me apprised of both the weather outside and the time of day, when I lost track of it.

  Shelves full of items lined the walls. When I’d seen it the first time, it had been messy, the myriad items stacked willy-nilly with no regard for their value or safekeeping. I’d done some organization, but I still had a way to go. I eyed the old box mousetraps that had caused me some trouble last Christmas and the miniature treasure chest–like container that still held some priceless medical instruments back from the time when William Burke and William Hare were killing people so they could sell the bodies for money.