The House on Candlewick Lane

by Amy M. Reade

  “Yes. That’s mine. He called me earlier to ask me to meet him at St. Giles with ten thousand pounds.”

  The officer looked up from the screen. “Did you give him the money?”

  “I gave him a thousand. That’s all I could get on short notice.”

  “It’s not on him.” He ran over to Neill’s body, now covered with a white sheet and surrounded by a bevy of officers and the paramedics. I could see the police looking around the circle at each other, some shrugging, others with questioning looks on their faces. James and I edged a bit closer to them.

  “There’s no evidence of any money here,” one officer was saying.

  “So the person who hit Neill must have taken it,” I said, walking up to the group.

  “Probably, but we’ll have to take a closer look around the area.”

  One officer asked me to accompany him to his police car, and another officer took James to the other car. We were apparently going to be questioned separately. I was furious.

  “My daughter is missing and this is what you do? You separate me from my friend and question us like we’re the people who did this? I’m the victim here!” I continued my rant while the officer waited for me to finish. Then he explained in his most patronizing voice that this was “protocol.”

  “It’s the second time in recent memory that I have been made to feel like a criminal by your so-called protocol,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. The last thing I needed was to be arrested for talking back to the police. I looked over to the car where James was standing. He was waving his hands, and I suspected he was having the same conversation.

  I calmed down long enough to answer the officer’s questions, which weren’t too painful but felt like a waste of time. The officer left me in the back of his car while he consulted with James’s questioner and was back in a few minutes to release me.

  “Your story checks out with his,” he said, jerking his head in James’s direction. “I told you, this is just protocol. We need to ask you these questions to cover all our bases, so to speak.”

  “I understand. Now can we please get back to my little girl? She’s missing and quite possibly alone and scared somewhere in Edinburgh.” And suddenly I remembered what Neill had said. “Neill told me if anything happened to him, I should find Beatrice. That’s his sister.” My words tumbled out in a rush.

  “Do you think his sister might know where your daughter is?”

  “I don’t know.” I gave him the Gramercys’ phone number. He promised to send another officer to make the call.

  The crowd surrounding us had largely dispersed. Only the die-hard stragglers remained, the ones obsessed with trying to get one final glimpse of the body, to hear one final expression of disconsolate grief from a family member. I glared at them in disgust and noticed that one had a mobile phone on which he was recording everything.

  “You want a show?” I screamed, walking over to him. “I’ll give you a show! Get out of here right this minute or I’ll give the paramedics another reason to be here!” I shook my fist at the man with the camera. James ran over to me and put his hand on the small of my back.

  “I’m taking you home, Greer. You’ve had enough.” He turned to the man with the mobile phone, still recording every word. “Please. You heard her. What you’re doing is coarse and insensitive. Please go away and leave us alone.”

  The man took more kindly to James’s plea than mine and, grimacing, put his mobile phone in his pocket. I turned to James and buried my face in his chest, sobbing. “Why do people do that? Why do they have to intrude?” He said nothing, but put his arms around me and let me cry.

  After several minutes, my tears dried and I was able to think more clearly and breathe more easily. “Let’s get you home,” James finally suggested. He spoke to one of the officers who was buzzing around the scene and came back to where I stood. “He said we can go. They’ll be in touch in the morning.” We left without a final glance behind us, leaving the police to their gruesome task.

  Seamus and Sylvie were asleep when we got back to my flat. It was the middle of the night. James hadn’t planned to spend the night with me, but I asked him to stay and we fell into bed, exhausted. When we went into the kitchen in the morning, still in the clothes we had been wearing the night before, Sylvie and Seamus gaped at us.

  If I had been in a better mood, I would have toyed with them about why James had spent the night, but my mood was still foul. “What on earth happened to you two?” Sylvie asked, her mouth still hanging open.

  “Shut your mouth,” I said crossly, then felt immediately sorry. If I looked half as bad as James, I must have indeed looked a fright.

  James and I took turns telling Sylvie and Seamus all that had happened the night before. They were incredulous. I wondered if the news would be too much for Sylvie, but she and Seamus both assured me she was strong enough to bear the stress.

  When we told them Neill was dead, Sylvie stood up and hugged me. “I can’t say that I’m sorry,” she said, “because I never liked the bugger, but I’m sorry for Ellie’s sake. For everything she’s been through and will have to go through until we find her.”

  I nodded, suddenly overcome with gratitude for Sylvie’s decision to stay in Edinburgh with me and for her kind words about Ellie, the niece she didn’t know very well.

  “We’re waiting to hear from the police about any evidence they may have found last night after we left,” James said. “We’re hoping they were able to find something that would tell us where Neill was staying or where Ellie might be.”

  After breakfast, James returned to his flat to shower and get ready for work. I also got cleaned up and sat at the desk in my room, intending to do some reading for my research, but I ended up simply staring out the window.

  An anguished cry from the living room jerked me out of my own thoughts. Seamus came running in from the kitchen as I arrived from my bedroom. Sylvie had been watching television.

  She wasn’t supposed to be watching television due to her concussion, but I knew she watched it sometimes when Seamus and I were out.

  “Are you all right?” I cried. “Is it your head?”

  “No! Look!” She pointed at the screen, where grainy video from the alley the night before was playing on a news channel. And there was my face, close up and contorted in anger and grief, screaming at the owner of the phone to leave me alone, threatening him with bodily harm if he didn’t listen.

  The three of us watched, stupefied, as we heard James firmly ask the man to stop filming. The video went black. Then the news report cut back to the anchor in the studio, who reported that a brutal murder had taken place the night before in an alley close to St. Giles. No one mentioned the missing money. When the anchor moved on to the next story, I buried my face in my hands.

  “Now you know how it looked last night,” I said, my voice muffled by my hands. “It was just like being there. How horrible.”

  Seamus put his pink, beefy hand on my shoulder. “Nay, don’t be worryin’ about it, Greer. It’s just a news report, sensationalist as always. Nobody’ll give it a second thought.”

  I chewed on my thumbnail. I didn’t want my neighbors to recognize me from the report. I didn’t want them to think I was mixed up in anything nefarious. I silently cursed Neill again forgetting me into this mess.

  I needed fresh air. It was chilly outside, but crisp and clear. The blue skies belied my dark mood. I told Sylvie and Seamus I would be back in time for dinner and left the flat.

  The walk was what I needed to clear my mind and focus. I walked slowly and idly, ignoring the other people in the park. Had I paid more attention, I would have noticed a familiar face watching me from a bench.

  When the sun disappeared behind the clouds, the sudden darkening of the sky lifted me out of my own thoughts. I glanced around and saw people leaving. I hadn’t heard the weather for the day, but I assumed rain was on its way. I turned and headed back toward Bide-A-Wee. On
ly one person remained in the park. He didn’t move from his spot on the bench as I drew closer. I recognized him with a jolt of alarm.

  It was Gerard. I must have looked startled, because his lips curled in a reptilian smile, hitching up each side of his dark, scruffy beard. He was happy to have taken me by surprise.

  I had had enough surprises to last a lifetime.

  “Gerard. How did you know I was here? What do you want?” I glanced around to see if any other people had come into the park, but we were alone.

  He stood up, ignoring my question. “What’re ye doin’ here, Greer?”

  Why did he care what I was doing when his brother’s body lay in the mortuary?

  “I was just out for a walk.” I decided to take the high road and offer him my condolences, in spite of my fear of him. “Gerard, I’m sorry about what happened to Neill.”

  He gave me a quizzical look. “What happened?”

  “You haven’t heard?”

  “No. What?”

  “Neill was killed last night in an alley not far from St. Giles.”

  The color drained from Gerard’s face. “Liar!” he accused.

  “It’s true. I’m sorry you had to hear it from me.”

  “What happened?”

  “Someone hit him in the head.”

  He stared at me. “How do you know?”

  “I got there just after it happened.”

  “Why were you there?”

  “He had asked me to meet him by St. Giles, but he took off running. I chased him and got to him just a few seconds too late. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.”

  “I dropped my mobile phone last night. Can’t get calls or texts.” He turned suddenly and ran off.

  “Gerard!” I yelled after him. He must have heard me, but he didn’t turn around.

  What was Gerard doing here in the first place? Was he living nearby? I doubted it.

  Had he been following me? If so, why?

  He knew where I lived, since he had asked the landlord for a key to my flat. He hated me, which I had known for years. He was strange, which I had also known for years. There were several reasons he could have been following me. But what did he want?

  My mobile rang as I walked into the flat. I listened to the person on the other end and let out a cry.

  CHAPTER 21

  “They found Ellie! The police have her!”

  Sylvie stopped short and her eyes widened. “You’re kidding!”

  I shook my head and bent down. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I did both. Sylvie did, too. We slid down onto the floor and laughed and cried together. When Seamus walked through the door a few moments later, he was shocked.

  “Girls! What’s the matter?” He dropped the bags he was carrying and knelt down beside us.

  “They found Ellie!” Sylvie sobbed.

  “What?” Seamus looked from me to Sylvie and back again.

  “It’s true! The police called my mobile and told me. She was alone, watching TV, and she saw my face on the screen. It must have been that mobile footage that was on this morning. Anyway, Ellie found a phone and called the number that was flashing across the bottom of the screen. I can’t believe it!”

  “Well, what are you sitting here for?” Seamus asked. “Go get her!”

  I nodded, tears running down my face. “She’s at a police station in Bell’s Loch, in East Lothian. I’ll get James to drive me.” I rang him on the mobile.

  He couldn’t believe the news. He left work right away, picked up his car, and we were on our way to the police station in less than thirty minutes. Sylvie and Seamus had offered to go with us, but I felt so many people gawking at her might be a bit overwhelming for Ellie. I wasn’t even sure of the wisdom of taking James along, but he had a car and it was much quicker for him to drive than for me to try to hire one. And, I confess, I needed and wanted him with me.

  We didn’t talk much on the way to the police station. I chewed my fingernails—I couldn’t help it—but stopped temporarily every time James glanced in my direction.

  When we pulled up to the police station, I turned to James.

  “I’m nervous. What if she’s angry with me for letting Neill take her?”

  “You’re being silly, Greer. She’s going to be beyond thrilled to see her mum. Now get in there and let’s take her home! I’m not going in because she needs to see just you first.”

  I squeezed his hand gratefully and hurried into the station.

  It seemed ages while I waited in the lobby for one of the officers to usher me down a long hallway and into a small, cheerless room. There he indicated a chair where I could sit and wait for my daughter.

  And when I saw her, I knew the meaning of joy.

  I heard her before I saw her. She was asking a question. I could tell from the inflection of her voice. I stood up, waiting for the door to open. And when it did and my daughter stepped tentatively into the room holding the hand of an officer, my cheeks ached from the huge smile on my face. I choked on a sob and stepped forward as she let go of the officer’s hand and threw herself into my arms. My worry that she would be angry at me had been for nothing.

  I knelt on the floor, my arms wrapped around her little body, and we both cried the happiest of tears. My eyes were closed, but I heard the door click softly as the officer left the room so Ellie and I could be alone for a little while.

  I held her at arm’s length and sniffled. Her wide smile told me everything. She was happy to see me, she was healthy, and she was with me to stay.

  She wiped her eyes and let out a loud hiccup. We laughed. I reached out to touch her hair. I knew Neill had shaved it into a buzz cut, but seeing it was still shocking.

  “Daddy said he had to do that so I would be safe,” she said. She looked away. “It’s not long anymore.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “I missed you so very much, and I was so worried about you. Are you all right?”

  “I’m a little hungry,” she said, smiling.

  “Then we will get you some lunch just as soon as we leave here.” The police station seemed a sterile place to talk, so I poked my head into the hallway and waved down a nearby officer. He helped me get the paperwork ready so I could take Ellie back to Edinburgh. Before I left, the officer I had spoken to on the phone earlier came into the room where Ellie and I were waiting. She shook my hand and touched the top of Ellie’s head. She asked me to call her when we were settled back in the flat.

  As Ellie and I walked to the car, I explained that James was my friend and that he would be joining us for lunch and driving us home. When he knelt down to introduce himself, I could have kissed him. He seemed to know just what to do.

  Ellie climbed into the car. I sat next to her in the back seat, holding her hand until James pulled up next to a small restaurant in the next village. The three of us enjoyed a simple meal while James and I told Ellie about the flat in Edinburgh and about Sylvie and Seamus, waiting there for her. She asked about Neill, but we sidestepped the issue by telling her she wouldn’t be seeing him for a long time. She didn’t ask any more questions about him.

  I was dying to pepper Ellie with questions about where she had been staying, the people she saw there, and how Neill had treated her, but I knew such an interrogation would have to wait. She needed time to absorb all that had happened and to get used to her father not being around anymore. I had no idea how and when to tell her that he had died. She didn’t seem to understand the chaos she had seen on the television screen, other than to recognize me and know she had to call the number provided.

  After lunch, we drove back into Edinburgh. Ellie seemed fascinated by the beautiful old buildings, the bustle of the city, and the traffic. She commented several times about being in “the big city.” It led me to believe she had not seen much or even any of Edinburgh since coming to Scotland with Neill. When James pulled to a stop in front of Bide-A-Wee, Ellie was enchanted.

  “Thi
s looks like a house from a book!” she cried. James and I laughed.

  “It is lovely, isn’t it?” I asked. “Let’s go inside and see Sylvie and Seamus.” James promised to stop by later, after Ellie was settled in.

  Ellie took my hand and we walked up the front steps together. Sylvie must have been watching from the window upstairs, because she swung open the door and stood, smiling, waiting for us.

  “Ellie, you may not remember Sylvie, but she’s my sister. Your aunt. She has been helping me while I’ve been in Edinburgh.”

  Ellie gave Sylvie a shy smile and Sylvie bent down. “Ellie, we’ve been waiting a long time to see you! I’m so glad you’ve come! Welcome to Bide-A-Wee.”

  Ellie gave me a confused look. “That’s the name of this house,” I told her. The three of us went upstairs into the flat. Seamus was in the kitchen, but he came into the living room when we opened the door. Ellie took one look at him and glanced up at me quickly. I realized how imposing Seamus must look to a small child, with his beard and tattoos and big limbs. I hastened to introduce them.

  “Ellie, this is Sylvie’s friend Seamus. He’s a wonderful cook and a painter. Maybe in a little while he can show you some of his paintings.” Those seemed to be the right words, because Ellie stepped forward and took the hand Seamus was holding out to her.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, lassie,” he said. She smiled up at him. “I hope you like cake. I’m making a special cake for dessert tonight.”

  “What kind of cake?” she asked.

  “Chocolate!”

  She smiled at him again, and I knew I was watching the beginning of a friendship form before my eyes.

  It was late in the evening when James came to the door and we all finally sat down to dinner. Conversation was light, as I didn’t want to mar the happy occasion with a mention of anything dark or sinister in front of Ellie. My fear of her being overwhelmed by people and attention had been allayed. She was quiet, but she smiled often and seemed keenly interested in the things we talked about at dinner.

  When Seamus brought out the chocolate cake, her eyes widened and she grinned. “Wow!” was all she said. And Seamus had outdone himself. The cake was slathered in chocolate frosting, dotted with green leaves and pink rosebuds made of sugar. I was touched by his thoughtfulness and the time he had obviously put into making such a magnificent dessert.