Judith Alguire - Rudley 04 - Peril at the Pleasant

by Judith Alguire

  “Grandma said you have a games room,” said Nora.

  Rudley looked up from his paper. “I suppose she meant the drawing room.” He pointed in that direction.

  “What kind of games?”

  “The usual, I suppose.”

  “Do you have Angry Birds?”

  “No, I would say ours are usually quite benign.”

  Nora and Ned gave each other a look and went off to the drawing room.

  Twenty minutes later, the kids returned. They stopped in front of the desk, arms folded. “There’s nothing in there but a bunch of board games,” Nora said.

  Rudley looked at them over his paper. “I beg your pardon?”

  Nora stamped her foot. “You heard us.”

  “And there’s an old lady in there who wanted us to play cards for money,” said Ned.

  “And she cheats,” added Nora.

  “I see you’ve met Aunt Pearl,” said Rudley.

  “Our father said there’d be computer games and an arcade.”

  “I’m afraid your father was misinformed.”

  “We want something to do.”

  “You could read a book.”

  “We didn’t bring our Kindles. Dad said we wouldn’t need them. He said you’d have all that stuff.”

  “You could watch television.”

  “Where?”

  “There’s one in the drawing room.”

  “That little thing? You’ve got to have a bigger one somewhere,” Nora complained.

  “With cable,” said Ned. “That one has three channels.”

  “I’m afraid that’s all we have,” said Rudley. “We don’t watch much television.”

  Nora heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Come on” — she poked Ned in the ribs — “let’s go.”

  Margaret came out of the kitchen and said hello to the children as they passed. They ignored her.

  “I think their manners are slipping,” said Rudley. “And rather quickly.”

  “Oh, I think they’re just out of sorts from their trip or not feeling comfortable in an unfamiliar place. Children of that age aren’t very good at hiding their emotions.”

  “You’re a forgiving woman, Margaret.”

  “Just well practised.”

  While Rudley was trying to decipher the meaning of that comment, the front door opened to a smattering of chuckles and chatter revealing Norman and Geraldine Phipps-Walker, each laden down with a backpack and two suitcases. Norman paused to inhale the aroma from the dining room before arriving at the desk.

  Rudley turned the register to face him. “Mr. and Mrs. P.-W., are you planning to take all of that into the wilderness?”

  Norman offered a bucktoothed smile. “Of course not, Rudley. Most of this is for the rest of our stay. I can assure you, Geraldine and I will be stripped down to the essentials. We’ve taken excursions where our entire kit fit into my hip pocket.”

  “I take it you’re talking about your American Express Card.”

  Geraldine waved him off. “Oh, Rudley, you’re so wry.”

  “Looking forward to the trip, Rudley?” Norman asked.

  “Not particularly. I think these jaunts are disruptive and ghastly. Why would anyone want to go anywhere when they can stay here?”

  “I have heard, Rudley, that it is necessary to seek out new experiences to keep life from falling into a predictable pattern. Falling into predictable patterns makes our lives mundane. Novelty keeps our lives from flowing away on us.”

  “If you say so, Norman.”

  “They say travel is broadening, Rudley.”

  Rudley folded his arms across his chest. “I travelled once, Norman. I went to England. I met Margaret. I saw things that were less grand than I had imagined them to be. I decided travelling was not all it was cracked up to be.”

  “I suppose that’s possible, Rudley,” Norman responded, “if you expect real life to resemble picture postcards.”

  Geraldine patted him on the arm. “Oh, you’ll love it, Rudley.” She cast a fond look into the dining room. “I’m glad we decided to check in a day early. It gives us a few hours to enjoy Gregoire’s cooking before we’re reduced to living off the land.”

  “He’s preparing quite the feast tonight with that in mind.”

  “We’ll just stow our gear and be down for lunch in a flash,” said Norman.

  “I’m guessing salmon quiche,” said Geraldine, inhaling deeply. “And do I detect a hint of chocolate cake?”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  Geraldine and Norman went on up the stairs, laughing and chatting.

  “That woman could ferret out a lemon tart at a hundred paces,” Rudley told Albert.

  Geraldine Phipps-Walker was a big woman, not obese, but tall, big-boned, and substantial. She ate like a lumberjack, and with gusto. She did everything in a large way. He cocked an ear. He could hear the Phipps-Walkers twittering away all along the second-floor corridor.

  “Geraldine and Norman just checked in,” Rudley told Margaret, who had come out of the dining room. “They seem to be in especially high spirits.” He paused as Geraldine’s shout of “Oh, Norman” floated down the stairs. “Exceptionally high spirits.”

  “It is their anniversary this week, Rudley.”

  “It’s amazing how you remember these things, Margaret,” Rudley responded, thinking he could barely remember his own.

  “It’s wonderful to see a couple who have been married so long and who so clearly enjoy each other’s company.”

  “I hope she doesn’t expect him to carry her over the threshold. For old time’s sake.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t, but I know he’d be game for it.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t expect me to perform that silly ritual, Margaret.”

  “I had other plans for you, Rudley. A wrenched back wouldn’t have fit with them.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’m going to see how Tiffany’s doing.”

  He smiled a lopsided smile. “I think I would have managed somehow.”

  ·

  Donnie Albright bought a ticket from Fredericton to Montreal, planning to transfer to a bus to Toronto. But when he arrived in Montreal, he found he would have to change stations and the bus was a milk run. He decided to proceed instead to Ottawa and from there catch an express to Toronto, which would be quicker. If questioned, he would say he was planning to look up one of his foster brothers. He knew one of them still lived close to a house they had shared. Their foster mother sent him a card every year. He never responded. He supposed she did it out of some sense of duty. He guessed she thought he was fond of her. Maybe because of his smile. He learned early that the way to get more of what he wanted from her was to smile.

  He almost fell asleep on the bus. He must have dozed off for at least few minutes because when he came to, his head was on the shoulder of the lady in the next seat. He took a deep breath and sat up straight, forcing himself to keep his eyes open.

  ·

  Tim came out of the kitchen, rolling a trolley laden with food.

  Rudley looked up from his newspaper. “It looks as if everyone ordered in.”

  “It’s for the Benson sisters,” Tim said. “And their guests.”

  Rudley looked at him blankly.

  “They’ve invited the children to join them.”

  “Senility has finally won out, I would say.”

  Tim rolled his eyes. “The children discovered the sisters have their very own fifty-inch television with an unlimited supply of DVDs. Right now, they’re engaged in a Rocky marathon. They’ve ordered Philly cheese steaks, cherry cheesecake, made, of course, with Philadelphia cream cheese, litres of Pepsi, heavenly hash ice cream, and a special platter of Gregoire’s dream fudge.”

  “We’ll find them all dead in the morning from a sugar coma or a coronary.”<
br />
  “Nothing is too much for such sweet children,” Tim said. “I’m quoting the sisters, of course. You wouldn’t believe it, but those little monsters are absolutely mealy-mouthed around them.”

  “Our problem is solved.”

  “For a few hours anyway.” Tim shook his head. “The kids thought you were lying about the television situation. So they went from cabin to cabin peeking in windows until they came to the Elm Pavilion.”

  “And there they found three ladies frozen in front of that hideous screen.”

  “More or less. Louise saw them at the window and waved them in.”

  “She probably couldn’t see who they were.”

  “Oh, she saw who was there. She saw the most adorable moppets clinging to the window sill, their eyes wide.”

  “And she let them in.”

  “Of course. After all, they were merely seeking a kind adult to give them some attention — what with their parents away, with everyone so busy, with everyone misunderstanding them. And such an adorable little girl and sweet little boy.”

  “Maybe they’re fattening them up for the oven,” Rudley remarked.

  “That’s what I was hoping,” said Tim. “But the sisters seem genuinely besotted with them.”

  “We’ll have to keep an eye on that. Make sure they aren’t after the old dolls’ cache of laudanum.”

  “I’m on it, Boss.”

  Tim went on his way. Margaret came down the stairs with a list in her hand. “Rudley, the Sawchucks have presented me with a preliminary list of their concerns.”

  “Preliminary?”

  “In case they think of something they need to add later.”

  Rudley checked the list, his eyebrows dipping into a ‘V’. “‘Who,’” he read aloud, “‘will be responsible for arranging our boating outings while you are away?’”

  “Well, how in hell do I know? Ask whoever happens to be hanging around the desk.” Rudley looked again at the list. “‘Who will be responsible for emergencies involving vermin?’”

  He crossed his eyes. “The cat. We’ll chain Blanche outside the door, Mrs. Sawchuck.”

  “I doubt if that would put her in a good mood,” Margaret observed.

  “That cat’s a persnickety old thing. Couldn’t you tell that when you adopted her, Margaret? She was the only kitten left. Didn’t you wonder about that?”

  “They explained, Rudley, that people kept passing her by because she didn’t seem particularly cuddly. I don’t think it’s fair to shun someone simply because they’re reticent.”

  “True, we can’t all be charming.”

  She let that pass. “I’m afraid Blanche won’t be available in any event, Rudley. The sisters want her as their guest while we’re away.”

  “The sisters are losing their marbles.” Rudley turned back to the Sawchucks’ list. “‘Who will make sure we have an adequate supply of prunes and prune juice on hand?’” Rudley threw his pen down, exasperated. “I’m sure Mrs. Millotte is capable of following a basic stock inventory.”

  Margaret patted him on the shoulder. “Patience, Rudley.”

  “They’re acting as if they expect us to come back to find them upside down in the swamp, or eaten by rats, or bound up to the gills.”

  “Humour them, Rudley.”

  Rudley crumpled the list and tossed it toward the recycle bin. “I have another concern at the moment.”

  “What would that be?”

  “The Benson sisters have befriended the brats. They’re having them in for low tea, high tea, supper, whatever, allowing them to watch movies on that monstrosity they call a television. I’m sure those rotten kids are perfectly capable of taking advantage of three helpless ladies.”

  She gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. “I’m sure there’s nothing more untoward going on than two bored children who want to watch television.”

  “I hate to leave the staff to deal with this sort of thing.”

  “I’m sure things will sort themselves out once we’re out of the picture. Everything is topsy-turvy at the moment with everyone coming and going.”

  A few minutes later Tim returned with the trolley.

  Rudley eyed him expectantly. “So?”

  Tim pushed the trolley aside and came to the desk. “The Benson sisters are having the time of their lives. The children are behaving like angels. Yes, Miss Louise. Yes, Miss Kate. Yes, Miss Emma. Butter wouldn’t melt in their foul little mouths.”

  “Perhaps we misjudged them.”

  “I don’t think so. When the sisters weren’t looking, they stuck their tongues out at me.”

  “Nervy.”

  “And thumbed their noses.”

  “Disgraceful.”

  Tim straightened. “Don’t worry, Boss. We’re on top of things.”

  “Perhaps I should stay here.”

  Don’t worry,” Tim said quickly. “If they step out of line, we’ll fix their wagons.”

  ·

  When the bus pulled into the station in Ottawa, Donnie’s plans changed. He was sitting as other passengers got off, staring out the window, when he spotted a man talking to a bus driver who had started toward the station for a bathroom break. The man looked familiar because he looked like everyone’s idea of the law enforcement officer who rushes to the bus, train, or plane, hot on the heels of a fugitive. The man was wearing a business suit but he wasn’t carrying a briefcase. The suit screamed police — not too expensive, not well-tailored, too small in the shoulders, and with a tie that was neither the right width or colour nor too conservative or too flamboyant. The fact that the man kept glancing toward the bus added to Donnie’s unease.

  ·

  Donnie was wrong. The man he believed to be a policeman was actually a used-car salesman who had come to pick up his daughter coming in from Toronto on a bus scheduled to arrive a few minutes later. He knew the bus driver, having once coached him in Little League, on the team he sponsored: Jerry Bumbry’s Auto Sales and Service Bearcats. It was just a hello, how are you, remember the old days kind of conversation. But Donnie didn’t know that and the way the man kept glancing toward the loading platform made him nervous. He got up, grabbed his suitcase, and tried to blend in with the other passengers leaving the bus.

  He flushed and felt faint with the realization that Mr. Pritchard might have had some kind of surveillance camera in his store.

  He left the bus station, forcing himself to act purposefully. He ignored the taxis and proceeded toward the parking lot. He heard the sudden eruption of a siren and saw lights flashing as a police car sped by on the street adjacent the bus station. But it passed without turning in and he exhaled sharply. His grip tightened on the handle of his suitcase. He needed a safe haven. Furthermore he was hungry.

  He walked away from the station, past a line of commercial businesses, a five-pin bowling alley and poolroom, and a laundromat, then turned into a side street, feeling uncomfortable with the light and activity.

  He walked several blocks past rows of three- and four-storey walkups and turned off again.

  He found himself in a bastion of small bungalows with huge backyards, old trees, and mature hedges, a few of them trimmed, but many overgrown. Several of the houses had for-sale signs out front. The cars in the driveways were mainly economy compacts, with a few old dinosaurs.

  An elderly woman came out of a house across the street and retrieved a penny saver from the newspaper holder under the mailbox. He waited until she went in and closed the door, then crossed the street, walked up the driveway to the rear of the house, and let himself into the backyard through a gate. He eased up the back steps, glancing about to make sure he wasn’t being observed. A six-foot board fence enclosed the yard. At dusk, the adjacent backyards were murky and silent.

  A curtain busy with sunflowers obscured his view into the house. He strained to see thr
ough the narrow slit between the curtains but saw no sign of the old woman. He took a package of vinyl gloves from his pocket, pulled on a pair, and tried the door. It was locked. He slipped out a credit card and jimmied the lock. He opened the door a crack.

  An old man sat at the kitchen table, his back to the door. Donnie slipped in and closed the door behind him. The man didn’t move. Donnie crept to the table and clapped a hand over his mouth. The old man’s slippers scuffled on the door, his fingers moved toward his watch. No, not a watch. A medical-alert bracelet. Donnie tore it off and stuck it into his pocket.

  He released his grip on the old man’s mouth. He gasped for breath. Donnie crept to the door and looked around the corner. The old lady was sitting on a bench near the door, leafing through the penny saver.

  “Mary.”

  The name was said in barely a whisper. Donnie turned and stared at the man. Then he heard footsteps. The old lady had a sixth sense.

  “I’m coming, Will.” She came through the door, stopped and gasped. “What…?”

  Donnie was standing behind the old man, his hands on his shoulders. “I’m hungry,” he said.

  Chapter Five

  The old woman cried out,“Who are you?”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  “You’ve got to leave.”

  Donnie dug his fingers into the old man’s shoulders. The old man shrieked. “Mary!”

  She reached a hand toward her husband. “You’re hurting him. Please…”

  “I need something to eat.”

  “I don’t have anything thawed out.”

  “A sandwich is fine.” He smiled, which emboldened the old woman.

  “I’ll fix you a sandwich,” she said. “Then you’d better go. I’ll put it in a bag for you to take with you. Paula will be here soon.”

  “Is that your daughter?”

  “She’s our home care worker. She puts Will to bed. She’ll be here soon.”

  “What time?”

  “Eleven, but she gets here earlier.”

  Donnie looked at the clock.

  Mary got a package of ham wrapped in grease-stained butcher’s paper from the refrigerator, then reached for a bottle of dills. “Do you want pickles?”