The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3

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The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3 Page 24

by Alexie Aaron


  I went immediately to Angie. Her arms were tied to one of the posts of her bed. My knife made quick work of the ropes. She opened her eyes.

  “Cin,” she started.

  I put my finger to her lips. “Don’t. The cavalry isn’t in place yet,” I whispered.

  “Michael and that woman are at the school tearing it apart.”

  “Is there anyone in the house?”

  “I don’t know. Michael and Ivana brought three men with them.”

  “Is Father Michael with you?”

  “No, why?”

  “Never mind that. I have to get you to safety and me up to the attic before all hell breaks loose.”

  “You figured it out. I didn’t until the awful ride here in the trunk. Cin, I don’t have enough energy to walk. Help me over to that painted cupboard. There’s a false back. Put me in there and leave the window wide open. It will look like I went out the window if they return.”

  I secured Angie and eased the door open and gently shut it after me. I made my way to the stairway. I walked on the side edges of the treads hoping to be as silent as possible. I was in a full sweat by the time I reached the dorm room. It was a disaster. All the mattresses were flipped over. The room looked as if it had been turned more in rage than in a careful search. I moved cautiously through the debris to the attic stairs. Even in early morning the stairs were pitch black. I had my hand on the light switch when I heard movement above.

  A sane woman would have gotten the hell out of there. I didn’t; I crawled up the stairs. I still didn’t know where Father Michael was. I needed to find him. I owed him that. I peered around the corner of the landing. Michael had his back to me. He was pulling open box after box, dumping the contents on the floor. There was so much broken glass lying on the attic floor that it had looked like it had snowed diamonds. The sound of gunfire outside took Michael from the boxes and over to the window. I eased back down the stairs and to my dismay heard a pounding of feet and a very hoarse, accented woman’s voice in the dormitory.

  “The police are here and shooting at Serge and the others. That cow Angie has escaped out the window.”

  I was caught between the two on the stairs. Before I could make any move the light on the stairs went on, and I stared fully into the surprised face of Ivana Penny. For her age and male origins she was a very beautiful woman, very tall and thin.

  “What do we have here? Michael, we have a visitor.”

  The rough hands that pulled me up the stairs from behind by my neck answered her in a grunt. He pulled me up and pinned me against the wall.

  “Ms. Fin-Lathen. My savior. My pain in the arse. Ivana, there is a wicked knife in her left boot. Grab that for me.”

  Ivana removed my knife and started searching my pockets.

  “Never mind that. We have very little time. Hold the knife on her.”

  Ivana opened the knife and admired it for a moment before cutting my laces and stabbing it once through my shoe and into my foot. Reeling from the pain I bent over instinctively to stop the abuse. I reached for the knife but my hand was slapped away. Michael pulled me upward with such force that I saw stars. Ivana then held the knife at my throat while Michael tied my hands over my head and secured them to the bare iron curtain rod at the attic window.

  “Why have you come up here my little dove?” She cocked her head. “You know where the Copland is, don’t you? Did you come to take it for yourself? No. You are too scrupulous. Too bad, we may have made a deal, instead you die. But not now, now I cut you till you tell us where it is.” Ivana took my knife and sliced a thin line into my neck. “This is where you marked my nephew, yes?”

  I blocked out the pain and angled my head backward. In doing so the fingers of my right hand could just touch the hilt of the stiletto. She raised my sweater and cut slowly into my fleshy stomach. I cried out, and as I did I moved until I had a firm grasp of the blade.

  “It’s in the cedar closet. I gasped as she started to slice deeper.”

  Michael opened Angie’s closet and had started to rip out the clothing. Ivana turned and watched him in glee. Meanwhile I sawed through my ropes freeing my arms. I was easing myself away when I caught my arm on a nail on the wall. The pain opened my hand and the knife clanged to the floor. Ivana stooped down to pick it up. I balled both my fists, and as she bent over I punched down on her back sending her towards the ground. She didn’t scream. She just fell ladylike to the floor, the recovered stiletto she had in her hand sliced through her Adam’s apple. She started to twitch, but I didn’t stay around to watch. I ran out of the room. Michael caught me at the stairs and pushed hard. I flew down the narrow flight without tumbling. I hit the wall hard and fell forward into the dorm room.

  “You Bitch! You bloody cow!” He charged down the stairs and grabbed my shoulders and began to beat my head into the floor. Pain was the only thing that kept me conscious. I twisted my body, and he lost some balance. I managed to tip him off me, but he was too fast and soon was sitting on my legs.

  “You die now!” He clenched both hands together and brought them over his head. I waited for him to bring them down and crush my skull, but he didn’t have a chance. Someone shouted and a body flew into his and knocked him off of me. I rolled to my knees, and by using the wall I managed to stand.

  Father Michael and his namesake were struggling on the floor. They struggled for dominance. The younger man had youth but the elder had hate. Hate made him strong enough to get the upper hand. He was on top looking down at the priest. He then smiled and drove his fist into Father Michael’s bad shoulder. He screamed in pain. Michael repeatedly hit him there. I couldn’t stand the sight or the sound of the priest screaming, and Michael’s maniacal laughter was the last straw. I reached in my bra and drew out both little knives. I staggered over and stabbed both into each of Michael’s arm pits. I picked him up like a bale of hay off of the Father and dropped him to the floor.

  Michael struggled to his knees glaring up at me. Smiling he reached to pull the knives out.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I warned him.

  He didn’t listen. Michael got to his feet and pulled them out. I watched as his vital fluid poured down his ribcage hitting the floor like a matinee curtain where it spread out like a red velvet cape. He stared down at it, not making the connection that it was his blood. When he did it was too late, his body fell lifeless to the floor.

  Father Michael groaned, and I walked over to him.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” I said as I knelt down and tenderly inspected his shoulder.

  “You really shouldn’t swear like that, especially in front of a priest.” He winced at my probing.

  “Hold still, you’re bleeding again, and all that good Catholic blood is running out. They’ll have to pump more of that good old Church of England fluid into you. How will you ever get through Mass?”

  I heard shouts and the pounding of feet. Two officers slid through the stairway door rifles first, rolled and got to their feet, positioning themselves ready to blow our heads off.

  “That was so cool,” I said to Michael. “Did you see that?”

  “Cin, quit acting like a tourist, you’re embarrassing me.”

  ~

  “Five pairs of shoes,” I said as the emergency technician eased off my shoe. My shoes were soaked through with my and Michael’s blood. I was gauzed, taped and bound. My nose was broken, my neck, right foot and stomach cut. My foot throbbed, and I had to go to the bathroom. I hobbled to my feet, hopped over to the small bathroom and took care of the calling. After I was finished I leaned against the wall and watched while they brought Ivana down from the attic. I guess I shouldn’t feel bad that she died instantly. I didn’t mean to kill her. I just didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

  No one was watching so I climbed the stairs, which I managed by hopping and pulling myself up by the rail. I skirted around the glass by hugging the outer wall. I made it to the cedar closet and pulled open the doors. I sat down before it and
leaned in blocking the considerable pain from my stomach and ribs. I pulled out the canvas bag. It was very difficult in my present condition, and by the time I managed it I was quite woozy.

  “Ms. Fin-Lathen!” I heard CSP Browning call my name. “What do you mean she just disappeared? She has multiple stab wounds, a broken nose and quite possibly broken ribs. How could you lose her?”

  “Up here!” I yelled. I was feeling a bit foolish sitting there holding the prize. I hadn’t opened it yet. I wouldn’t open it until Angie was able to see.

  “There you are. I refuse to ask how you got back up here.” He looked at me and smiled. “That it?”

  “Maybe. I don’t want to open it. It isn’t mine. But I don’t want it left here either.”

  “I see your point.” He pulled up a box and sat down beside me. He inspected my face, turning it side to side. “You’re not going to be looking yourself for a while. Did you lose any teeth?”

  I felt around with my tongue. “No. How is Angie?

  “Compound fracture of the shoulder. Three broken fingers and rope burns on her wrists. She’s sedated and on her way to the Royal Cornwall Hospital.”

  “Father Michael?”

  “His shoulder wound has been reopened. Sherborn mashed it pretty good. He’s next in line for the airlift.”

  “Did he tell you how he got here? Or how he left the hospital?”

  “No, didn’t occur to me to ask.”

  I opened my eyes real wide. He smiled.

  “Gotcha. He said a Mary Brown came to visit him and insisted that he come right away to Bathgate. She even had clothes with her. He dressed and left the hospital with Mary. She took him to London City Airport where she had left her Piper Club. She flew him out here, and he walked in from over the hill. She said he needed to make his peace with his uncle’s death so he visited the bog first. The Father had no idea there was a problem at the farm. After he said his prayers and made his peace he headed over to the Comstock farm hoping that they had a key to Bathgate. As he was walking through the school area he heard some activity and caught sight of armed men. He was able to stay out of sight of the disturbers, which was wise considering the past trouble here. He had no idea who was there or how many of them there were. Fearing that they were up to no good, Father Michael skirted the grounds keeping to the brush until he came to the front of the house where he saw you disappear into a window on the second floor.

  “He knew he couldn’t follow you up the tree with his shoulder so he tried the front door and it opened after a good shove. He just made it inside when he heard Ivana shouting upstairs for Michael. He climbed the stairs, and as he passed Angie’s room he heard the cat scratching wildly at the door. He opened the door to free the cat. Instead of leaving the room the cat led him to the cupboard. He opened the door and the cat hopped in and scratched at the back. It was at that point he heard the breathing. He pulled the back off and Angie almost stabbed him with a nasty bit of hanger. She told him that you were in the house and was worried because she heard Ivana in her room moments before he came in. He carried her out to the car before he returned to look for you, and you know the rest.”

  “I better give Noelle a call. You don’t think you could help me downstairs?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” I handed him the canvas bag and he gave me his elbow. I leaned on him.

  “Anyone else get hurt?” I felt guilty that I didn’t even think to ask about the other officers and Cayne.

  “Just the bad guys.”

  “Good. How much trouble am I in?”

  “Trouble? Oh Ivana and Michael? Looks like self-defense to me. But we’ll run it by legal. You’re going to be spending some time in England anyway, healing. We’ll try to push things through. Although, you may have to return.”

  “That isn’t such a bad idea. I do love it here.”

  We had reached the bottom of the stairs. He turned and looked down at me. “All this violence hasn’t put you off England?”

  “No, actually it hasn’t. But after all Alex is in the United States, and he can be far more troublesome than a few murderers and psychopaths.”

  “Who is this Alex?”

  “Tell you what. Wait till I heal, and we’ll go to the pub and I will tell you all about my son. Who is, no doubt, cruising up and down the east coast of Florida driving my car.”

  ~

  The hospital staff complained about having to work around the large dusty canvas bag that I wouldn’t let go of. When they sewed my stomach, and wrapped my ribs, I held it between my legs. My nose was broken, and the plastic surgeon played with it a bit before giving me a local anesthetic. The wounds on my neck and my foot were deemed superficial and were bandaged. It’s not that I didn’t want any of painkillers that they offered, but I knew that I needed to stay alert so I bore the pain without pills.

  They supplied me with a wonderful volunteer that would roll me wherever I wanted to go in a wheel chair. He was a retired police inspector, and he kept me amused by recounting some of his adventures. I had almost convinced him that he could roll me out of there and down to the local pub when my daughter and entourage arrived.

  Noelle looked at me and said predictably, “What did you do?” She looked for a square inch without bruise to kiss. She gave up and kissed my head.

  “Don’t baby the woman, she’s done us proud,” Lady Mary Price said as she walked up. “You know my daughter-in-law will no doubt put you through another dinner. Quite the talk of the town.” She leaned in and tucked a flask between my arm and body.

  “Thank you, much better than flowers. Did you bring our expert?”

  Noelle gave me a wry smile and listed, “Doctor Marcum is in the lobby with Peter. Paisley is out in town with Billy trying to find you some shoes. CSP Browning and Sergeant Moore are interviewing Father Michael at the moment. Ah, I should warn you that his aunt Diane is here looking for your blood,” she warned. “Do you have any left?”

  “What did I do? I didn’t kidnap him from the hospital.”

  “She says it was one of your pagans.”

  “One of my pagans?”

  “Pagans, I have to hear about this!” my volunteer said with glee.

  “Oh, excuse my rudeness. Lady Mary and Noelle this is Miles, my chauffeur.”

  “A great pleasure.” He bowed to Lady Mary and winked at Noelle.

  Our polite conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Paisley with Billy in tow. “I don’t want to hear how you saved the free world; I just want to know how the hell can one freaking person destroy so many shoes?” She leaned in and surveyed my face. “Ew, you look like...”

  “Don’t say it.” Billy put his hand over her mouth and handed me a shoebox. “This pair is on me. Thank you for saving Angie. It’s not often a stranger reaches out and risks their life for another.”

  I was too touched to speak. I just smiled and opened the box. A pair of soft leather black Mary Janes was sitting there.

  “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

  “Excuse me, Ms. Fin-Lathen?” a male voice beyond the crowd that was gathering asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Miss Bathgate is asking for you.”

  “Miles?”

  “Clear the way, ah there you go. Which way to Miss Bathgate’s room?” Miles followed the nurse dressed in the wildest set of scrubs I have ever seen.

  Half of Angie was in a cast. I could hardly see a human under all that wrapped plaster. I got to my feet and carried the canvas bag with me.

  “You got it,” she said approvingly.

  “What if it isn’t in here?”

  “Then it doesn’t exist. Open it up, better that we find disappointment amongst ourselves than in front of our peers.”

  I eased the canvas bag open. I pulled each seat cover out roll by roll. I unrolled “The Happy Farmer” and four others before I unrolled “The Two-way River” by Aaron Copland. I la la laed out the tune through each page and found it finished.

  “I don’t know if
it’s real, but it’s good,” I told her.

  I sat back down and let the fatigue wash over me.

  “Thank you for coming. We have had a lot of ups and downs this last week.”

  It has been busy,” I agreed. “Did anyone talk to you about Maurice?”

  “A little. I understand I have a letter to read. I don’t want to talk about the sad things yet. Plenty of time for that later.” She was quiet for a moment then piped up. “Cin, Father Michael cut such a dashing figure when he carried me out of the house. Then he ran after you. It was very...”

  “Gothic?” I volunteered.

  “Yes. Now go and bring in my friends and the expert. I want this done and finished. Damn that Bobby for being such a procrastinator.”

  “Can I ask you something first?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Can I have those seat covers?”

  “It’s not a complete set, just seven.”

  “Doesn’t matter, I have grown so attached to them today. They would be a good...”

  “Souvenir? Honestly." She shook her head. "Yes, take them, they’re yours. Now go and bring in my fan club.”

  “Miles?”

  “Be a pleasure Ms. Fin-Lathen.” He wheeled me out, and after we sent the others in he found two glasses and we sat in an empty room and got plowed.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  I pressed my face against the window and waved at Noelle and Peter. It had been a month of trials and publicity. There were dinners and commendations. Alex arrived and gave me another lecture before hugging me. We spent a wonderful week being silly tourists. Angie had healed enough to go back to Bathgate. She and Paz would take their time sorting through everything. Billy had made it clear he expected a woman of his to be able to do her part. I wasn’t sure how long Paz would put up with his new attitude, but I was positive it would be an interesting time.

  Lady Mary and I had many good afternoons full of verbal battles. She had decided I would stay with her throughout the police procedures. I readily agreed because I knew she was the only one that could take on a rabid Aunt Diane and come out winning.

 

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