The King's Park Irregulars

by David Wilson

  She put on her coat and picked up the phone in the hallway on her way out, ringing ahead to see if Alasdair was still there. He was, but still sounding in quite a bit of pain, but in any case she was to come around the back and let herself in – Sophie had left the door unlocked in case of an emergency. It was another fine day and as she came to the end of her garden path she spotted the familiar ginger figure of Waffles walking further up the road. She was about to turn in the opposite direction to go to Alasdair’s house when she stopped and turned in time to see Waffles’ tail swishing around the bend in the road. She suddenly started walking after him – I wonder where you’re going, she thought. Let’s find out if you’ve got a home or if you are a stray looking for someone to take you in. If you were a suspect then I would follow you and check what your movements were, so you can be my test subject. She walked quickly up the path, crossing into the road at one point to see further ahead past the bend in the road, and there was Waffles padding casually towards the end of the road. She quickened her pace, keeping him in sight at all times but also staying a safe enough distance back so as not to be caught. Chapter five, she remembered, and if I can follow a cat with their heightened senses and awareness then following a person should be easy.

  Waffles stopped ahead of her and sat down looking around, and instinctively Abigail pressed herself into the wall to prevent him from seeing her – chapter five, section two, avoiding detection. If she had been on the tail of someone this would have looked completely suspicious of course but then, she thought, you have to adapt the methods to suit the target. I’m rather enjoying this now. She crept up the path, keeping in close to the wall, trying to avoid being jagged on the head by hawthorn bushes coming over the top, and she saw Waffles turn and saunter into a garden. Damn, I’m going to lose him – she jogged along but couldn’t see him anywhere. He must live in that house, although what if that’s only his shortcut home? She walked briskly around the end of the road and into the street behind, and sure enough there he was walking towards another house before sitting on the doorstep and miaowing loudly. This had the desired effect of making the door magically open, at least it must be magic for a cat, and in he went. Abigail felt strangely proud of herself that she had successfully followed the subject without being rumbled and found out the information she was after, albeit the subject was a cat, but you had to start somewhere. She walked past Waffles’ home and back around to head in the direction of Alasdair’s house.

  She let herself in the back door and walked through the kitchen and hall to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Alasdair? Are you up there?’

  An echoing voice shouted back. ‘Yes, same place I’ve been all morning. Could you make me a sandwich, I’m starving!’

  ‘I can do, what would you like?’

  The echoing voice again. ‘I’d love a fried egg, keep the yolk runny please.’ Abigail took a step towards the kitchen then stopped.

  ‘Isn’t that going to be fraught with difficulty if you’re lying on your back on the floor? It’ll just run all over you. I’ll see if you’ve got any cold meat.’

  ‘Not more corned beef!’ he shouted back as she walked off into the kitchen.

  Ten minutes later, Alasdair was chewing a ham and mustard sandwich with great enthusiasm, and a glass of milk with a bent over straw sat on the floor next to his head. Abigail was standing outside the door, a hankie pressed over her nose and mouth. ‘How much of that stuff have you put on? It’s foul.’

  Alasdair stopped munching his sandwich and looked over. ‘This stuff as you call it is a wonder medicine, I’ll be up and about in no time. I accept that it’s a trifle aromatic but then that’s all the rage these days isn’t it? I could sell this as one of those aroma air fresheners for people with colds, clear their sinuses right up. This has dozens of uses, Abby – I can’t believe my family never cashed in on it before. This will make my fortune.’ Abigail pulled the chair over from the landing and sat down, still outside the bathroom door.

  ‘I wouldn’t order the private jet just yet,’ she said, ‘I take it Sophie is away out sorting some things for the high tea? She must just love you being laid-up at a time when she could do with your help.’

  Alasdair finished his sandwich and took a long drink of his milk. ‘I know, I do feel bad about it, but she’ll understand. Although she was a bit short with me this morning – tired I think. I don’t think she’s on board with our investigation you know.’

  ‘Well, can you blame her? She’s run herself ragged organising this event and now, just as it’s about to happen, we’re both grabbing the end of a very big rug and trying to pull it out from under her. Still, Emma and I were discussing things this morning and I’ve come up with a theory. I assume you’ll want to hear it?’

  Alasdair listened intently, his head laid back on a chequered cushion on the floor, pondering the details as Abigail relayed what she and Emma had discussed that morning.

  ‘My God Abigail, that could be it. Why not? I’ve heard stranger things when I was a solicitor. He had that court case with Revenue and Customs a few years back which suddenly disappeared and we assumed that he had been cleared. Maybe he agreed to pay out what he was due them and it was settled. From what I recall at the time it was a sizeable sum they were after; he might be in debt after that. But then what about his business? That website he’s got seems to be doing rather well given the house he bought?’

  Abigail shook her head. ‘Not necessarily, as Emma said he could be funding it all on further credit or loans somehow. Anyway, I looked at his website and he only charges three pounds fifty for a valuation on an item. It would take a hell of a lot of things being valued to pay for that house and his lifestyle.’

  Alasdair nodded, conceding that it would seem unlikely. ‘So we need to try and find out more about his website and perhaps about him too? If we can get some background information on him then we’ll be better able to gauge how to tackle this.’

  Abigail smiled. ‘Chapter seven, I believe?’

  He laughed and nodded. ‘I believe so. Now how are we going to go about this? We don’t want to tip him off that we’re checking into him.’

  ‘So we won’t ask anyone locally, that way he won’t pick up any gossip or, dare I say it, word on the street. We’ll just Google him; loads of stuff will come up I’m sure.’

  Alasdair held up a hand, his brow furrowing. ‘But if he’s the technical whizz that’s been reported before, could he find out somehow if we’re checking him online? I bet he’s got some way to monitor if he’s being looked up, especially if he’s involved in dirty deeds. Don’t they do that with worms or something that they send out? I’m sure I read about that somewhere.’

  ‘No idea Alasdair, but it’s a fair point. But how do you find anything out these days without a computer? It’s impossible. We don’t exactly have time to travel around the country asking questions.’ They sat in silence for a few minutes trying to figure out some solution. Abigail then stood up, ‘Sorry Alasdair, I need to get to work, I’ve got to help out this afternoon. We’ve got a visitor coming from another library to show us the new …’ she stopped, gazing off into space for a second. Alasdair watched her.

  ‘Yes? What is it?’

  ‘Eureka!’ she pushed the chair back against the wall. ‘I’ve just had my eureka moment. I’ll tell you later, got to go!’ She turned and nipped down the stairs as Alasdair’s voice echoed after her.

  ‘Abby! You can’t leave me here like this, I need to know what’s going on, and I need some help getting up and if nothing else, I’d like another sandwich!’

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Alec was standing on the pavement outside the restaurant when Emma arrived. He was gesturing to two men up ladders who were heaving a large sign into position. Another man was standing next to him, who Emma couldn’t quite see yet, but was presumably a third member of the sign company team. From where she was the sign looked very good indeed. It was done in an old-fashioned style with a black background and gol
d lettering in a simple yet classic hand depicting the name of the restaurant. Hanging out at right angles from the building was a metal sign, which was carved into the shape of a man holding what looked like a bread paddle and aiming it towards the door in a round furnace. The sign was black apart from the area inside the open door of the furnace, which had been painted to look like a blazing fire, on which the puddings would no doubt be cooking along nicely. It was like the style of sign that would have hung outside an apothecary or blacksmith’s in olden days.

  As Emma drew close she shouted out to Alec, ‘Looks good, we’re now ready for business!’ As she did so he turned around revealing the face of the man standing next to him and Emma stopped in her tracks. It was John. What in hell’s name did he want hanging around here apart from looking to cause trouble? Alec smiled and waved her over.

  ‘Hi Emma. I think I might have found our first customer for tonight.’ She walked over, her face now red with anger, and stood facing John.

  ‘What the hell do you want?’ He gave a look of mock distress towards Alec and held up his hands apologetically.

  ‘Hey, calm down. I was just passing and saw the new place so I wanted to have a look. I didn’t know you worked here – I take it you’re the cleaner, are you?’ He fixed her eyes and held them with a cold stare, which she thought he must have been practicing in front of the mirror. He then turned to Alec, ‘I hope you don’t let her speak to all of the customers like this,’ he said.

  ‘Oh come on John, this place isn’t something you’d be seen dead in – you knew I worked here and you’re out to cause bother. Alec, we need to bar this idiot right away, he’ll ruin opening night.’

  Alec turned to John and smiled. ‘Sorry about this, like I was saying, feel free to come along tonight and help us celebrate the opening.’ Alec smiled graciously, still watching Emma.

  ‘You know I think I might just do that. Anyway, bye for now.’ He walked forward towards her and instinctively she moved aside and then immediately cursed herself for letting him past rather than making him walk around her. She gave Alec a blazing look and then marched into the restaurant, giving the two men up the ladder a similar look in return for their furtive glances. Alec came in after her.

  ‘What on earth was that all about? I assume that there’s a history but we can’t afford to go alienating potential customers. You mind telling me what the story is?’ He pulled a chair out at one of the tables and gestured to it before sitting on the opposite side, waiting expectantly. Emma sat down and gave Alec the gory details of her life with the deplorable John. He seemed to be understanding enough but his face was still looking grim.

  ‘We can’t have any bother here tonight Emma, not on our opening night. It just takes a bad opening and word gets around, I hope you realise that?’

  She nodded. ‘I can’t help it if he comes here but hopefully he won’t – it’s not exactly his type of place. I won’t let him walk all over me again though, but I’ll not let anything happen if I can help it.’ She got up and went back to the kitchen to start checking the deliveries that had come in today, and in her head a small light came on. She dug her mobile phone out of her pocket and then went out of the back door to make a call.

  Chapter Thirty

  At the library Valerie Stewart was sitting at a computer with a pleasant young man who was eagerly pointing out things on the screen and explaining the brave new world which was coming to their online services. Abigail smiled as she walked past, and thankfully a customer was standing at the returns desk thereby preventing Valerie from roping her into their discussion. Once she had dealt with the customer, the library was quiet and so Abigail sat down at one of the other computer screens and brought up a list of all of the libraries in the country. Scrolling down the list there was page after page of names, addresses and contact details for the public libraries in the United Kingdom. She was still trying to figure out in her head the best way to go about this. She knew what she wanted to do but just wasn’t quite sure how to do it without seeming either mad or raising too many questions. If I send an email to all of the libraries and ask them to check their local newspapers for any article on Milton Scott then I could get some information which could be useful. Although I don’t want anyone to search on the internet for the details in case that still triggers off any alert that he might be able to see. She sat back on her chair and closed her eyes for a moment before a smile came across her face and she leaned forward again and started typing a new email:

  Dear Colleagues,

  My name is Abigail Craig and I work at the library in the wonderful city of Stirling. We have been approached here by the regional police headquarters for our help in a project which they tell me is possibly of national importance. The premise is this; what if the internet went down due to being subjected to cyber attacks, how could they in the police and the security services still pool news and local information from around the country? What they have realised is that with the library network across the country, we are already the gatekeepers for a huge amount of information, both local and national, and in times of emergency if the library network were to be mobilised to collate local information and keep a central point advised then the overall picture in the country could still be tracked.

  I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that in an age when we in the libraries are under increasing threat from cutbacks and online services, it is an honour that one of the true values of our own service has been realised, not to mention the key role we play in education and introducing our next generations to literature and knowledge.

  The police have requested that we contact all of you and ask you to carry out the following test, by way of manual means only. This could be through local word of mouth or with your resources of local newspapers which are routinely gathered at the moment. The information they have requested, which has been randomly selected as a test, is thus:

  • Check for any information in your area from the last six months on a businessman by the name of Milton Scott.

  • Check for any information in your area from the last six months on antiques or collectible items being stolen in your local areas.

  When you have checked this, the articles are to be copied and emailed back to us here so that we can collate and pass them back to the police headquarters. Since we are competing with the internet, and not to mention because it is a chance for us to display just how valuable we are, they have asked us to respond by tomorrow noon to see how the network can perform.

  Good luck to you all and let’s show them what we can do!

  Yours sincerely,

  Abigail Craig

  Senior Librarian, Stirling Library

  Abigail read over the email, wondering if this was just getting a little out of hand now that she was involving the entire country in their madness. But, at the same time, if this got them the information they needed to prove or disprove their theory then it would be worth it. Abigail spun her chair around and watched as the young man was still pointing out new things on the computer screen and telling Valerie how the future of the library would be secured by providing more services online to the public. Valerie glanced over towards Abigail, an exasperated look on her face and her eyes pleading for help. Abigail picked up the cue and let out a painful groan, stopping the man mid-sentence, and he turned to face her. She gave him her best pained expression, not altogether unconvincing although to the casual onlooker it would be difficult to know if it was a heart attack or constipation, which perhaps added to its strength. ‘I’m sorry Valerie, I’ll have to go to the doctor about this pain, remember I was telling you about it?’

  ‘Oh yes Abigail, I remember,’ she would have been a natural in an amateur dramatics performance. ‘Off you go and I can handle things here. I think Mr Bristow is just about finished now?’ They both looked at him and he looked from one to the other.

  ‘Erm, well I could go on …’

  Valerie stood up. ‘I’m sure, however we’re just about to get to our busy tim
e with the kids coming in after school so we’ll need to call it a day. I’ll get your coat.’ She hurriedly helped him on with his coat and showed him down the steps and on to the street, before he really knew what was happening.

  Abigail laughed as she came back in. ‘We’ll never get to heaven Val.’

  ‘Nope. So what were you beavering away on there?’

  ‘Just some information I need from the other libraries, nothing special, just a project I’m working on. There might be some emails in for me tomorrow morning just in case you get them before me.’ Valerie eyed her suspiciously but Abigail scooped up her coat before she could ask further and said goodbye, then stepped out onto the street.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  For the moment there didn’t feel like there was much more to be done as Abigail stepped outside the library. She glanced left and saw the road leading down the hill past the Albert Halls and in the direction of home. Not too appealing a thought at the moment as Emma would be out and with everything going on she felt that she wanted to be among people rather than sitting at home on her own. The world was starting to feel like an exciting place again, not to mention a little dangerous, which she found not a little invigorating. She looked to her right and saw the statue of William Wallace standing on top of the building at the top of King Street. She tried not to let her gaze fall on the grey monstrosity which stood behind it, a legacy of the seventies building craze to use concrete and build purely for function. How such a building had ever been allowed in the centre of a historic town like Stirling was beyond her. She gave a small involuntary sigh and headed off to her right and down into the town. As she came down King Street towards the shopping centre she glanced inside the Burgh coffee shop and saw the familiar figure of Sophie Mills sitting on one of the stools in the window, lost in thought, her hands clasped around a coffee cup. Abigail waved but Sophie was staring off into the distance, blissfully unaware of anything happening outside her own thoughts. Abigail went in and ordered a vanilla latte at the counter and then went to sit down next to Sophie. ‘Hi there, how’s you?’ Sophie looked around and slowly came out of herself, like someone being brought round from hypnosis.