The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3

by Alexie Aaron

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Now that is the good news. The bad news is that the front of the hospital is mobbed with photographers. They want a snap of the karate kid. She won’t come out because her hair is a mess, she’s covered in blood and she split her pants kicking Bruno.”

  “Tell Peter to stay with Noelle. I’ll go shopping and bring her some clothes. Oxford Street isn’t too far from here. I think we can be there in twenty to thirty minutes.”

  I went to wash up. I stripped off my clothes showered and put everything back on. Angie and Michael were in her room. The Constable had returned, and I asked her to stay with the newly reunited couple until I got back.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going clothes shopping. Can’t walk around London like this can I?”

  “I was surprised you could walk at all considering your left shoe.” She pointed at my two day old Doc Martins.

  “It’s only blood, it will, oh I see what you mean. How the hell?” I examined my boot. The middle of my heel was gone. So Bruno had one more thing to answer for. He shot a hole in my new boots!

  Chapter Eighteen

  Operation Clothing went smoothly. Super heroines Paz and Cin hit Oxford Street and in minutes reappeared dressed for the press. I decided on a red knit wrap dress, red-strapped sandals, and for Noelle I chose a blue pinstriped pantsuit. Paz dropped the leather for a cashmere sweater and hip hugger pants. The sweater matched the belly button ring she had on. She and I bought two shirts for Billy and one for Michael. I also had purchased four other pairs of size nine (size seven in the UK) shoes in various styles, just in case.

  Constable Davis drove us and let us out at the Casualty entrance. Once we located Peter and gave Noelle her clothes, I felt I could relax. Michael, Angie, Billy, Paz and I were starving, but it didn’t seem right to eat when Father Michael was in so much pain.

  His aunt Diane walked into the waiting area and looked us over. She was an impressive woman, fit figure, green eyes and expensively manicured.

  “Don’t you dare look worried. My little Mikey is going to be fine. Which one of you is Cin?”

  I stood up. “I am.”

  She walked over and checked me out. I almost felt like I should turn out my hands and show her that I had washed them.

  “He has been asking for you. Come along.”

  I made a face at the others who were trying very hard not to laugh at me. I expected to hear her say, ‘I saw that’ but she refrained. I followed her to Michael’s room. She held out her hand and stopped me before I could open the door.

  “Your outfit is quite nice. That necklace, surprisingly, seems to go well with the dress. The sandals were a good choice. Your hair is a bit wild but considering the day you have had, permissible.” She kept nodding her head as she spoke. “You are a beautiful woman, Cin Fin-Lathen. You are a courageous woman who has brought my brother Donald up from the bowels of the earth. Don’t think that I’m not grateful. I am, but right now, my nephew the priest is lying in there calling your name. This makes me very uncomfortable.”

  I tried to get a word in, but the lady gave me no room.

  “You’re divorced, I know. But you’re a siren. You’re going to break his heart, and I can’t have him hurt.”

  “Hold on lady, Michael, the priest, and I have a great regard for each other, are friends, not friendly friends just...you get the idea. I bought this dress for the press. If my ex-husband was going to have to see my exploits on the front page of some paper, well, hell I wanted to look nice. Give us some credit. We may be children to you, sister, but I am a newly divorced empty-nester going through the pains of a broken future. I have a lot to deal with, and it doesn’t include men at this time.”

  “So nothing is going on?”

  I wanted to say just murder and mayhem, but I held my tongue and just shook my head. I could see the concern in her eye tinged with the hard edge of a lioness. I didn’t want anything I would say out of nervousness to be misconstrued.

  She looked me over once more and stepped away from the door. “Go in.”

  I opened the door into a well lit room. I saw him laying there vulnerable and still. A young male nurse sat monitoring the machines that helped him breathe and pump the fluid he desperately needed into his veins. Father Michael was pale and waxy. The nurse must have noticed my expression, because he walked over and explained that the priest had lost a lot of blood. It would take a while before his color returned. I thanked him and I walked closer to the bed. I was afraid if I touched the bed, Aunt Diane would come bursting through the door screaming “harlot.” So I kept my distance.

  “Cin?” he whispered.

  “I’m here.” To hell with the old bag I reached over and stroked his forehead.

  “What happened?”

  “You saved Michael by using your body as a Kevlar vest.” I continued to brief him on all that had happened while he was down. He listened intently. I finished up with, “Noelle and I tried to keep your blood inside you, but you wouldn’t cooperate and coagulate. Damn selfish of you. She went with you to the hospital. I took Michael over to Angie, and then I went shoe shopping.”

  He smiled at that.

  “In case you’re keeping records, that’s four pair of shoes ruined in six days.”

  “Cin, I saw him.”

  “Who?” I leaned in because his voice was very weak.

  “Uncle Donald.”

  “Really? I’m so jealous. Where did you see him?”

  “I’m telling you this because with all the drugs I may forget this later, and I don’t want it forgotten.”

  “I’ll remember for you. Tell me.”

  “He was walking in the Two-way River. I walked over to him and he frowned. He said I didn’t belong there. To go back, take care of the family and bring him home to Savannah. I asked him why he wasn’t in heaven. He looked at me wryly and said that it wasn’t time yet. I asked if he was in purgatory. He didn’t answer me, but he did tell me something that may have been an answer. He said, ‘All is not what it seems,’ and that’s all I can remember.”

  “All is not what it seems,” I repeated as I looked down on this man who I had once suspected of not being all that he seemed and felt a bit guilty. I stayed with him until he fell asleep and risked damnation by kissing him on the forehead before leaving the room.

  ~

  I met Noelle on the way back to the waiting room. She looked fabulous in the new pantsuit, and she had makeup on. Noelle doesn’t usually wear makeup.

  “There is something different about you.”

  “Makeup. Aunt Diane loaned me some and helped me with my hair.”

  “Wait a minute. Aunt Diane?”

  “She insisted. She likes me.”

  “Well, she doesn’t like me. She thinks I am the whore of Babylon.”

  “I know. How can you give such a bad impression so quickly?”

  “Talent. Speaking of talent, how’s the penniless musician?”

  “Peter’s fine, Mother,” she said whining out the last syllable. “He has been a godsend.”

  “He’s cute too.”

  “Come on, whore of Babylon, leave some men for us mortals,” she snickered.

  “You’re a big help. Looky, looky. Do you see Chief Superintendent Browning over there by Angie?”

  “Yes, I do. Why?”

  “I was hoping he was a figment.”

  “A figment?”

  “Of my imagination. Come on, don’t let me face the music alone.” I linked my arm with hers and walked over to the group.

  “How is Father Michael?” Angie asked.

  “He looks a bit waxy, but he was conscious and talking.”

  “Good, good.”

  “I’m hungry let’s go.” I picked up my bags and tried to slide by the CSP

  He caught my arm. “Why don’t you just wait for a moment,” he said to the group. “I’ll bring Ms. Fin-Lathen back in a minute.” He walked me down the hall and backed me into
the wall.

  “Don’t you ever put yourself in danger like that again,” he growled sternly.

  “I wasn’t in any danger. It was Father Michael. I’m fine, no mortal wound. Wanna check?” I raised my arm saucily.

  “Do you call running at a man with a gun playing it safe? You were damn lucky this time. You almost got your foot shot off. I don’t know what those Florida police let you get away with, but in the UK you stay out of trouble.” He reached into his coat pocket and handed me my passport. He turned me around so that my body hid him from view. “Now, that was for them. I personally think you did a good piece of work finding Michael and bringing him and Angie together. Not to mention capturing Bruno.”

  “I didn’t, Noelle and Billy did. I had no clue when we went to the park that we were going to get shot at. I am no fan of guns.”

  “I know. You’re a knife fancier.” He smiled briefly and returned to his CSP mode. “You’re all going to have to be interviewed. They do things different here. I do have some friends here, but they still have to answer to someone else.”

  “I’m not expecting a free pass.”

  “Good, then I’m glad we are in accordance,” he said studying my guilty face a bit too long. He walked me back to the group. “Everyone, we are going to make a grand exit. There are several representatives from the local rags out there. I don’t want you to say anything. Let Sergeant Moore do the talking.” Before he opened the door he turned and said, “Suck in your gut and smile.”

  That is what I did. I also tried to suck in my thighs. I think it might have worked, but maybe it was just my imagination.

  The press surged forward and Sergeant Moore repeated the phrase. “You will have all the answers to your questions by calling the Met tomorrow.” It took five minutes to get through the crowd, ten minutes to lose the photographers and several hours of statement taking at the local borough police station. I thought it was Marylebone, but I was more concerned about being in a Met station than where in London we were.

  I expected to be bundled off to the airport and put on a plane home, and if it wasn’t for the bone I had to pick with one Maurice Sherborn I would have welcomed it. What surprised me was that we were released with no more than a “don’t leave the country,” from Browning.

  We had agreed ahead of time to meet back at Angie’s house, but when I emerged from the station I was not surprise to see our motley crew waiting for me.

  “Thought for sure they were going to deport you this time,” Paz said shaking her head with amazement.

  “What did I do…wait, don’t say anything more till after I have eaten. Most criminals deserve a last meal. I wonder if that includes dessert?”

  “A pudding! You get shot at, Noelle almost gets arrested for assault and all you can think of is pudding?” Paz said aghast.

  “Something chocolate…” I mused as I nodded to Peter who proceeded to summon a few cabs.

  ~

  Constable Davis went outside to have a cigarette while waiting for her replacement. I thought this would be a good time to figure out what we were going to do next. I had Billy stand watch as we assembled around the dining table.

  “We are in an unusual situation here. Sergeant Moore and his Commander aren’t too pleased with us at the moment and Browning wants us to stay out of both investigations. I overheard that Bruno Vanchencho gave up no one. They have him in Canada at the time of Horace Beaufort’s hit and run murder. They have an eye witness statement that he pushed Bobby Bathgate to his near death at in Florida. And they have evidence that puts him at the scene of Angie Bathgate’s shooting and my eye witness account for the attempted kidnapping of Angie on a later occasion.”

  “They, also, have a witness to the attempted murder of you, Ms. Fin-Lathen. And we caught him red-handed, as you yanks like to say, shooting Father Michael Donald Williams.” Billy said from the doorway.

  “We can’t, however, place him at the murder of Donald G. Williams. He would have been a small child in Russia at the time. Someone else killed Donald, and I think I can speak for all of us that we are of the opinion that the same person that hired Bruno in all likelihood killed Donald. More importantly, the person was a comrade and student in the same music class as Donald, Horace and Michael. That leaves Bentley Hughes, Maurice Sherborn and Ivan Bendonovich, if he’s still alive.”

  “Ivan?” Michael spoke out. “Ivan’s not missing.”

  “Intelligence says he disappeared from the east block in the sixties,” Peter read off his notes.

  “Ivan came here. Lived with me until his operation. Now she lives in Brighton.”

  “Hold the phone. Michael, you said she?” I asked.

  “Ivan Bendonovich disappeared, but Ivana Penny lives in Brighton. I have her picture in my wallet. He took out his wallet and pulled out the picture. I have it to keep the widow ladies away. I tell them this is my lady friend.”

  I reached for the picture and looked at it appreciably. Ivana had a beautiful complexion with a small pert nose. She did have pretty big shoulders for a woman though.

  “She had her nose and jewels bobbed.” He looked in his wallet and pulled out a card. “Here’s her address and phone number.” He handed the card to the Peter.

  Angie broke out laughing.

  “What’s so funny Angela?” Michael asked.

  “Remember, how Bobby used to call Ivan, ‘I’ve been down the road a bit?’

  “Yes I do, made Ivan pretty upset at the time.”

  “Come on, Michael, think,” she continued laughing.

  Michael caught on and roared. “I never thought about it before. I’ve been down a road a bit has turned into I wanna a penny!”

  ~

  I was able after a few redirections to get a hold of CSP Browning and give him the information about Ivana Penny that we had gotten from Michael. He thanked me and rung off before I had a chance to ask him about his meeting tomorrow with Maurice.

  Peter had been conferring with the girls, and after a lot of theatrics from Paz and negative head shakes from Noelle he walked out of the room to make a few calls. I wondered what all that was about and feared I would be getting an answer soon enough as an excited Peter returned to the room and walked over to me.

  “I set up a meeting with Maurice Sherborn at his office in approximately thirty minutes from now. Now that Father Williams is out of the picture, I assumed you would still want to make this meeting. What exactly is your plan?”

  I sat down on the nearest piece of furniture, fortunately for me it was a chair. My plan? Bloody hell, I didn’t have a plan. Father Michael had the plan, no, I was going to plan, but Father Michael got shot. Peter’s question had gotten the attention of our group and they waited patiently for me.

  I stood back up on weak knees and addressed them. “It appears that we have two suspects now. Ivana could still be a player, but I don’t see her hiring a hit man to kill the man who sheltered her during her defection from Russia and from the male society. Michael, Maurice published your work under his name. He lied to you and Angie-Angela about each other being dead. He also published what we think are musical compositions of Horace Beaufort, Donald Williams and Ivan now Ivana. He’s presently up for a knighthood for these very manuscripts. He looks very dirty to me. I’m sorry, Michael, but he has some hard questions to answer. He was in England at the time of the theft of music. He was in England at the time of Donald’s death.”

  Michael waved his hand dismissively, “I’m very upset with the man myself at the moment, but let me clarify one thing. I was missing in action, as happens sometimes in war. He thought I was dead. He was in a bad way and borrowed my manuscript. No harm done. When I was found and sent back to England, he came to me and confessed what he had done. I had no need for fame, and I thought my true love was dead so I let him have it. He shares some of the royalties with me. It helps with the rents.”

  “I want to know why he told me you were dead,” Angie spoke out.

  “Maybe he thought I was at
the time.”

  “Why did he tell you I was dead?”

  “I dunno. I’m not sure I can hold my temper long enough to find out.” Michael theatrically wrung his hands.

  “I see this meeting between Michael and his brother still needs to take place. But, what would be my reason for being there?” I asked.

  “Here, give him this.” Angie drew out of her bag a large paper tube. She unrolled the original manuscript. “Tell him you found it and want an explanation as to why this one has Michael’s name on it.”

  “I could have approached Michael first, and that’s why he’s attending the meeting with me. Makes sense. Five minutes into the meeting I want you to come in, Angie. I want myself and Michael to see his reaction to your being alive. Then we take it from there.” I looked at Noelle.

  “You want to do this don’t you,” she said in her mommy voice.

  I surprised myself by nodding.

  “I don’t think the police will take too kindly to you interfering…”

  “I’m just keeping a previous appointment.”

  “It could be dangerous.”

  “I’ll be with her.” Michael chimed in. “I won’t let anything happen to your mum or Angela.”

  “First sign of trouble…”

  “I’m out of there.”

  “What about Angie’s protection?” Michael said as he walked over and looked out the window at Constable Davis who was conferring with her replacement.

  “Bring her along. After all I’m just going to an appointment. She can wait out in the reception area while I talk to Maurice. Michael can protect us, but it would be nice to have the constable as maybe extra incentive for Maurice to behave himself.” Angie said.

  It looked to me like it was all falling into place. Everyone was convinced that this was a good plan, everyone except for one, me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As I waited for Michael on Angie’s porch I went over the plan in my head. Basically I would begin interviewing Maurice with Michael. Angie would ride over with Constable Core, Constable Davis’s replacement, and walk in on our meeting to see if she could unbalance Maurice enough to come clean. Noelle and Billy were going to wait for me at Paz’s mother’s house. Peter had given me the address and phone number for when I was finished.