by Joel Goldman
FORTY-THREE
McNULTY POUNDED ON CASSIE and Jake’s doors as the morning sky began to lighten. They stepped outside, faces drawn from a restless night.
“Time’s a-wasting. We’ve a long drive ahead.”
Jake said, “In case you forgot, we missed dinner last night. I need food.”
“Fair enough. They serve a tasty fry-up at a tidy little café down the street. Had my full while you two were still sleeping.”
“What’s a fry-up?” Cassie asked.
“Just the best breakfast in the world. Couple of bangers, some Irish bacon, beans, tomatoes and some runny eggs plus a bit of fried bread if you can find the room for it.” He patted his belly and smiled. “I know I did.”
“Perfect,” Jake said. “Point me in the right direction.”
They took a booth against a wall with a window facing the street. McNulty sat on one side by himself. Jake slid in on the other side ahead of Cassie. The short bench seat left them hip-to-hip. She matched his gusto for the food. Finished, she eased away from the table, holding a mug of steaming coffee with both hands.
“I talked to Sarah St. James last night,” she said. Jake and McNulty listened as she summarized her conversation.
“Does this change our plans?” Jake asked.
Cassie said, “Just means we’re working for free. Are you okay with that?”
“Sure,” Jake said, “but we may not be out of the money if we pull this off. At least Lady Tresch fought for us. Maybe she can help us smoke out her future former husband.”
“Too risky. If we’re wrong about him, we’d just make things worse for her and that wouldn’t be right after the way she tried to help us.”
“But, if Lord Tresch is Shaw, we should let her know so that she isn’t blindsided.”
“If we can without compromising the investigation, we will.” Cassie looked at her watch. “McNulty’s right. Let’s go. We’ve got a long drive and a couple of stops to make.”
“Where? For what?”
She patted Jake’s rough-whiskered cheek. “Neither of us is gala-ready. I don’t know about you, but I need clean underwear and you need a shave. And, we can’t go to the ball dressed like this. We need costumes.”
“Oh, boy. I can’t decide whether I want to be a pirate or a Knight in shining armor.”
“Wait for Halloween. I’ve already taken care of it.” She gave directions to McNulty for the costume store. “I’ll just run in and pick them up. There’s a store on the same block where we can get everything else. There’s a village close to the castle called Maidens. I got us rooms at a hotel where we can clean up and change.”
“Hold on. You picked my costume without asking me? When did you do that?”
“Last night before I went to bed. I found this shop online. There was no time to ask your opinion.”
“What do you mean there was no time? I could have come to your room and we could have picked them out together.”
Cassie raised an eyebrow. “You and me. In the same room. Late at night. Is that what you’re saying we should have done.”
Jake stared at her, his voice soft. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Would that have been so terrible?”
She flushed and gazed into her coffee mug. McNulty cleared his throat. “You children carry on. I’ll go bring the car around.”
Jake waited until McNulty was gone. “Well?”
Cassie had made a promise to herself before falling asleep and now was the time to keep it. She squared around and leaned toward Jake, their faces and bodies inches apart. His eyes widened. With a sly smile, she draped her right arm around his neck and reached her left arm past him, bringing them even closer. Jake tried to kiss her but she turned her head and pulled away holding a sausage from his plate in her left hand.
Her eyes dancing, she said, “You going to eat this?”
Jake shook his head. “I’d rather you do it.”
“I’m sure you would.” She dropped the sausage on her plate and scooted out of the booth. “But, we’re in a hurry and I’d hate to rush a thing like that.”
**
Cassie came out of the costume shop with boxes under each arm, having insisted that Jake wait in the car. She tucked them into the Audi’s trunk with their newly purchased underwear and toiletries and got in the front seat. McNulty headed back to the highway.
“Really,” Jake said. “You’re not going to let me see my costume?”
“I want it to be a surprise.”
“What if it doesn’t fit. You don’t know my size?”
She turned around. “Remember our stroll on the nude beach in Portugal? I know all about your size.”
McNulty laughed and gave the horn two sharp blasts. “Here’s hoping it was a balmy day.”
Jake said, “Well, in that case, I hope you got an extra…”
“Easy, cowboy. Don’t lie in front of McNulty.”
“At least give me a clue.”
“Fine. It’s a two-person horse costume. Guess which half you get?”
“At least I’ll enjoy the view.”
FORTY-FOUR
MURDOCH CALLED INSPECTOR PATEL while he was on his way to Titan Security Solutions to interview Malcolm Bridges’ co-workers.
“Anything new, Inspector?” Murdoch asked.
“A bit.”
Murdoch sighed. “Are you in a sharing mood this morning?”
“We’re very busy here.”
“Not too busy, I hope, for a fellow copper who could help you make your case while standing behind you.”
“It’s not that, Murdoch.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said, knowing that was exactly it. “Tell me what you’ve learned. Maybe I can put it together with whatever I dig up.”
“Fine,” Patel said, his irritated tone telling Murdoch that he just wanted to be done with the call. “Video traces McNulty’s cab to an underground car park beneath Cavendish Square Gardens. He went straight there from the warehouse. The cab never left but we picked McNulty out leaving in an Audi Q3 with two passengers. We couldn’t make out their faces but we assume they are your friends, Ireland and Carter.”
“Where’d they go from there?”
“North. Out of London. I’ve put out an alert to local police along all the northern routes and to bus and train stations and hotels. We covered the airports as well. And, we included their photographs.”
“If the images were so poor, where did you get their photographs?”
“McNulty’s is on file with the taxi authorities. We pulled Ireland’s from the video outside the warehouse and we got Carter’s from the Internet. What’s a professional poker player doing mixed up in this?”
“Going all in on a bad bet.”
FORTY-FIVE
THE HOTEL IN MAIDENS OFFERED beautiful views of the Irish Sea, a charming restaurant and a dozen comfortable rooms, only one of which was available when Cassie gave her name to the desk clerk.
“But I reserved two rooms on your website last night.”
“I’m sorry, m’lady. Our website was overly generous. But the room has a king-sized bed, a large flat-screen…”
“We’ll take it,” Jake said.
Cassie declined Jake’s offer to wash her back and took the first shower. When Jake stepped out of the bathroom with a towel cinched around his waist, she was wearing her costume - a bold red, strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline, fitted bodice and full princess skirt.
“Holy, smokes, Your Majesty. You look gorgeous. The women will hate you and the men will promise you their fortunes.”
“You don’t think it’s too much? I feel like my boobs are going to pop out.”
“They deserve to be set free.”
She pointed to a box on the bed. “Your turn.”
“Ah, at last. My costume.” He returned to the bathroom to change.
He came back dressed in a red and purple jester costume. The long-sleeved tunic and puffy pants were divided into different patches of color and g
athered into ruffles at the ankle and wrist. The shoes, one purple and one red, were oversized with upturned toes. There was also a hat with four crescent moons stretching from the crown, gold bells dangling at each end. Grinning, he danced a jig, spun his hat around and bowed deeply.
“How else might I amuse you, m’lady?”
Cassie laughed. “You’re not mad at me?”
“Mad? It’s brilliant. No one will take me seriously. One glance, and I’ll be forgotten. And, while we’re not on the subject, what’s going on with us? That thing you did this morning with the sausage - which, by the way, was the perfect blend of sexy, crass and hilarious - and your crack in the car about knowing all about my size weren’t exactly platonic gestures.”
“No, I suppose they weren’t. I guess I laid it on a bit thick. Let’s just say that…”
McNulty banged on the door. “Open up, you two. His Lordship awaits.”
“He has the timing of an in-law,” Jake said. With a sigh, he opened the door.
McNulty took one step into their room and stopped, eyes bulging, mouth agape. “Bloody, bloody…bloody hell. Cassie, darlin’, you’re a vision of beauty no man has a right to expect. As for you playing the fool, Jake, I’d say Cassie got it right.”
“Thanks, McNulty,” Jake said. “Good to have you in my corner. Let’s go.”
Cassie held up her hand. “Not yet. We’ve got to practice the phone handoff so we don’t end up like the relay team that drops the baton. We’ll keep an eye on Lord Tresch. If he’s like every other phone crackhead, he won’t go ten minutes without checking it for something. Once I know which pocket he uses, I’ll make sure he asks me to dance. When you see me rub my hand across his back, you’ll know I have it.”
“Then what?”
“We do a brush pass. You slide past me and I hand you the phone without anyone noticing. Don’t make eye contact and don’t stop moving. Pretend that the hand-off isn’t even happening. Now let’s practice.”
They walked past each other, barely touching as they passed the phone. Jake smiled. “Easy enough.”
McNulty said, “Not by half. You looked down at your hand. Right quickly, but I saw it. Like this.” He darted a downward glance.
Cassie said, “Okay, let’s try it again.”
After four more practice passes, they were satisfied. McNulty headed out the door followed by Jake until Cassie called to him.
“Hey, fool.”
Jake turned around. “Who you calling a fool, lady?”
“You, mister.” She put her hand behind his neck and drew him toward her, then kissed him. “That answer your question?”
“Yeah, and look,” he said, pointing to his shoes. “You made my toes curl.”
In the parking lot, McNulty led them to a gleaming black limousine and opened the back door.
“Where did you get this,” Cassie said. “And, where’s the Audi?”
“We couldn’t very well pull up to the castle in that pile of junk. There’s bound to be security and one look at my Audi and they’d tell us to turn right around. While you two were doing, well, whatever you were doing, not that it’s any of my business,” he said with a wave of his hand, “I was chatting up the gent that owns a service station down the way. He keeps the limo for the occasional rental. He’s holding the Audi as collateral and you owe him a hundred pounds.”
Cassie kissed him on the cheek. “McNulty, you are a treasure.”
He drove them through the Culzean Country Park until they reached a line of cars waiting to cross a narrow stone bridge leading to the castle. A security guard stood at the entrance to the bridge, checking the names of arriving guests.
Jake told him, “Tell him I’m the Duke of Lincolnshire accompanied by his lovely lady.”
The guard motioned them through without giving them a second glance. They cleared a patch of trees and crossed the bridge where they got their first view of Culzean Castle. Perched at the top of a cliff overlooking the Firth of Clyde and brightly illuminated for the night’s festivities, it was an imposing stone fortress straight out of a fairy tale, with round towers topped by crenellated parapets where medieval archers once fired on the enemy below.
McNulty pulled up to the massive granite arch at the entrance to the castle, got out and opened the door for Cassie with an exaggerated bow. She flashed a quick smile at Jake.
“Here we go.”
FORTY-SIX
THE WROUGHT IRON CHANDELIER HUNG from a thick chain in the castle’s large entry hall casting a warm glow on the rough stone walls and high, vaulted ceiling. A large shield bearing the clan Kilpatrick coat of arms - a green cross on a white field, surrounded by bows and arrows and a large, leaping stag - was mounted at eye level opposite the main door.
Beside the coat of arms was an open doorway, draped in gold and purple fabric. A man in an 18th century butler’s uniform of black pants and coat over a crisp white shirt nodded politely, and waved them toward the door.
“Welcome, my Lord, my Lady.”
Cassie noted his earpiece and the telltale bump of a gun under his long coat.
They followed a runner of royal purple carpet down a short passage to a large double door where another security guard masquerading as a butler opened the heavy door, releasing a flood of music and light.
The grand ballroom was at the base of a round tower that stood on the edge of the cliff. Seventy-five feet in diameter with floor to ceiling windows along one curved section of the wall, it overlooked the moonlit water of the Firth of Clive. Large framed mirrors bordered with gold and purple fabric and strings of twinkling light hung on the pale, yellow walls making the ballroom appear even larger. Ten tuxedoed musicians sat on a raised platform, playing a lively waltz. Dozens of couples crowded the dance floor in a swirl of brightly colored costumes. Servers dressed in white tie formal wear circulated among the guests offering crystal flutes of champagne to go with Beluga Caviar, foie gras and oysters.
As they took in the glittering scene, Jake shook his head, laughing softly.
“What is it?” Cassie asked.
“I grew up in a small town surrounded by wheat fields. My escape was books. The Once and Future King was my favorite. I used to pretend I was one of the Knights of the Roundtable. But I never imagined that one day I’d be dancing with a beautiful woman at a fancy masquerade ball in a Scottish castle.”
“Want me to pinch you?”
“Maybe later.” He gave her a courtly bow. “Would you care to dance, my Lady?”
“Indeed, I would.”
He took her right hand in his left and placed the other on the small of her back, sweeping her into a waltz. They moved in unison, as naturally as if they’d spent years dancing in each other’s arms. Cassie saw her reflection in one of the mirrors. Even with a mask covering her eyes, she looked the way she felt - happy – and drew Jake closer.
She surveyed the guests. There were kings and queens, lords and ladies, soldiers and sailors, a sprinkling of pirates and wenches and a few jesters, all hiding their eyes behind masks.
“What’s the plan, Mata Hari? How do we find Lord Tresch?”
“We don’t. We make him find me.”
Jake looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her chest. “Well, that dress is a good start.”
Smiling, she tipped his chin up. “Eyes right here. Tresch’s mind is on money. We’ll give him a prospective donor to cultivate.”
“And you’re the whale.”
She twirled gracefully, her full skirt flaring out. “Tonight, I’m Katherine York. I’m rich, thanks to my late, successful father and grandfather. I adore children, especially disadvantaged ones, and I’d love to support the foundation’s very important work.”
Jake nodded. “Tresch has a lot of friends in this room. They’ll make sure he knows about the woman in the killer red dress. But what if he checks you out?”
“I hope he does. Prometheus created Katherine York’s complete, fake family history when I started working for him, a
long with several others I’ve used.”
Jake leaned his head back. “But, you really are Cassie Ireland, aren’t you?”
She pressed her hand against his cheek. “Trust me. I’m the real deal. Head for the sidelines and let me work the room.”
Over the next hour, the Red Baron told her war stories and gave her tax advice. A very tipsy Cleopatra extolled the virtues of coffee colonics. Julius Caesar invited her to join him for a weekend in the Bahamas and Mary Queen of Scots did the same.
Alone for a moment away from the dance floor, she sipped champagne. A tall man approached, dressed in full Louis XVI regalia, including a pale blue brocade coat with matching knee breeches and a powered wig. She recognized his long, angular face and thin-lipped smile.