Of Books and Bagpipes

by Paige Shelton

  “Your name is Delaney. Are you from America?” Clarissa asked, her tone so friendly and welcoming now that I did a double take.

  “I am. I’m working here, though, at a bookshop called The Cracked Spine.”

  Clarissa’s smile fell quickly and I wished I hadn’t mentioned the bookshop part so quickly. Her eyebrows came together and I braced myself for the chance she’d shoot.

  “I see,” she said. “Edwin send you here?”

  “No, not at all. I’m here on my own. Elias is a friend,” I said as I nodded toward him.

  She didn’t look at Elias. She didn’t look anywhere but directly at me.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked, not meaning it.

  “I guess I have some questions about your time in school with Edwin, Gordon Armstrong, and Leith Stanton.”

  “Why?”

  I cleared my throat. I should have rehearsed this better, but I hadn’t. I had, however, thought about my approach and decided that the honest, most direct route was truly the only way to go, but that didn’t change the fact that the words didn’t want to be easily or quickly spoken. “There’s been a … tragedy.”

  “What happened?”

  “A murder.”

  “Who?”

  “Gordon Armstrong’s son. Billy.”

  I’d never seen the sequence of her next actions before. Clarissa gasped, stood up, started to cry, and then fainted, all in only a few brief seconds.

  Fortunately, Elias was quickly up and out of his chair to catch her.

  “Oh, no! Not again. This has got to stop,” I said, more to myself than anyone.

  “Call for an ambulance, lass,” he said to me as he held Clarissa in his arms.

  NINETEEN

  The conversation with Clarissa Bellows McIntyre did not resume, but fortunately she regained consciousness. The paramedics weren’t happy with her heart rhythm so she was carted away, off to hospital, leaving Elias and me in a wake of concern and guilt.

  Elias and I had been trying to stay out of the way but still answer the questions the medical professionals had. After the ambulance left and everyone was sure we hadn’t purposefully done something to harm Clarissa, we set out down the hallway to leave too. We were surprised when the older woman appeared from a back room.

  “I’m Liza Marie,” she said. “Clarissa’s cousin. What did ye want with her?”

  The hat had been removed and she stood up much straighter than before. Her gray hair was pulled back into a tight bun and her blue eyes were much clearer than I would have predicted.

  “We wanted to ask her some questions. We didn’t know we would be so upsetting but maybe we should have predicted as much. I don’t know. We’re sorry,” I said.

  “What did ye say?”

  I repeated the short conversation as best I could.

  “Och, those were long-ago days that she wouldnae want tae be reminded of. Circumstances did not go well. It took her some time tae move forward. She met her husband, God rest his soul, and she managed tae put the bad memories behind her. I suppose ye stirred up some ghosts she’d rather hadnae been bothered.”

  “We’re very sorry,” I said again, disappointment over her now dead husband adding to the guilt I felt. If he were still here, he could comfort her at least.

  “She’ll be fine. Tell me more about the lad Billy Armstrong. What happened tae him?”

  “He wasn’t a young man,” I said. “Almost fifty I guess. All I really know is that he was murdered and they haven’t found the killer.”

  She frowned as she nodded.

  I bit my bottom lip, looked at Elias and then back at Liza Marie. “There was an Oor Wullie book and a dirk involved. Do you know anything about those or about the secret society that Clarissa was a part of back at university?”

  “No. All I really ken aboot is a man who died on a boat. It was a tragedy that Clarissa never quite got over.”

  “What happened to the man on the boat?”

  “She was on the boat with other men. A man went over the side and drowned, but it has been the nightmare that’s haunted her all these years. It’s why she never finished school, why she left Scotland for a time. She had much healing tae do.”

  “Drowned?” I asked.

  “Aye.”

  “It sounds like it was rough.”

  “I suppose t’would be difficult for anyone tae get much past that.” She smoothed her already smooth hair. “Why was it yer job tae tell her about the murder?”

  “I guess I made it my job,” I said. “I care for my boss, and he’s upset about Billy too.”

  “Ye said ye worked at the bookshop, but who’s yer boss?”

  “Edwin MacAlister.”

  I could tell she knew that we hadn’t intended to upset Clarissa, particularly to the point of being ill. She nodded thoughtfully but not suspiciously.

  “I have one suggestion for ye,” she said.

  “Anything.”

  “Tell yer boss tae stop by the hospital and see her tomorrow morning. She’ll be there until at least the afternoon, since they’ll admit her. I think it would do her some good.”

  I looked at Liza Marie and realized she knew much more than she was sharing. It was at that moment, as I looked at her beautiful but wrinkled face, that it became distinctly clear to me how old all these secrets were. Decades, about half a century. Ancient, considering a life span. No one had wanted these memories brought back to the surface, and old bad memories probably hurt worse than new bad memories. Did bad memories that old ever really die?

  “I will,” I said.

  And I would, no matter how weird it would be.

  * * *

  I started the next day with a call to Hamlet. I tried Rosie’s mobile but didn’t get an answer.

  “I’ll be a little late this morning,” I said.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” Hamlet said. “I’ll tell Rosie when she gets here.”

  “Do you know if Edwin will be in today?”

  “I believe so. Rosie said yesterday that she expected him today.”

  “Good. I shouldn’t be too late. Would you mind asking him to wait for me if he gets there before I do?”

  “No problem. Everything all right?”

  “Fine, but I need to talk to him.”

  “Certainly. Oh, there was a note taped to the front door for you.”

  “From?”

  “I don’t know. It smells like fish though.”

  “Would you mind opening it and reading it to me?”

  “Aye. Hang on. Let me grab it.” The sound of paper tearing came through the phone. “From Gordon Armstrong. He’d like you tae meet him tomorrow evening, at the fish market.”

  “Really?”

  “Aye. You’re not going, are you?”

  “Not alone at least. I saw him two days ago and he told me to stay away, so I’m curious.”

  “Delaney?” Hamlet said.

  “I’ll tell you all about it later today, but I promise I won’t go by myself to meet the man who’s pretending to be dead, particularly at night. Not a chance. I just have one quick errand to run before I come in this morning.”

  “Should I tell Edwin about the note?”

  “No, I’ll tell him.”

  “All right. You’re not doing anything stupid, are you?”

  “Not completely.”

  “That’s at least something. Be careful, Delaney. If you’re not in by ten I’m showing Edwin and Rosie the note and calling … Tom, that’s who I’ll call.”

  I smiled. “Okay, but I’ll be in.”

  “See you soon,” he said with a hopeful caution.

  The bus I took was the same one I always took to work, but today instead of disembarking at Grassmarket, I rode it up the hill to the Royal Mile and then down toward the sea. I’d created a superstitious personal tradition of nodding toward the wall at the bottom of the hill that enclosed the World’s End Pub. The wall used to mark the border of Edinburgh, back in the day when the tens of thou
sands of residents were all cramped onto the long road that was topped off by the castle, living in small rooms piled high and fighting terrible deadly diseases. I was glad to live in current times.

  Whenever I passed that wall I knew I was leaving behind a huge population of ghosts. I didn’t sense them, really, except for a weighty loss each time I left them behind. Like sometimes in the warehouse, it felt a little like time travel.

  The police station was at the bottom of the hill, housed in an old building with a small clock tower in the middle. Inspector Winters and I hadn’t gotten off to the greatest of starts, but once the murder of Edwin’s sister had been solved we’d formed a friendship. I’d lied to him when he’d first asked me about a secret room full of treasures that Edwin kept; I told him it didn’t exist. I hadn’t righted the lie, and there were moments I thought he was still so curious about the possibility of its existence that he did things like tell me more about Grizel than he should have with the hope I’d spill the beans about the room. I never would.

  “Help you?” a young girl behind the front desk asked with a smile.

  “Inspector Winters in?” I said.

  “What’s yer name and why do ye need tae talk tae him?”

  “Delaney Nichols, and I have some questions about the dirk.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “One minute.” She lifted the handpiece from the old phone on her mostly clean desk. A magazine lay open in the middle, displaying pictures of what I assumed were celebrities, but I didn’t get a close look.

  Inspector Winters swung his head around the side wall almost as the young woman hung up the phone.

  “Delaney?” he said.

  “Hi. Am I interrupting anything?”

  “Not really. Come on back.”

  I followed him directly to the small interview room I’d been in before. He closed the door behind us and sat only after I did.

  “As I mentioned, we didn’t find any prints on the dirk or the business card, but thank you for bringing them tae me. We’re going tae keep them until the murder is solved but it looks like you will get the dirk back if we don’t find an owner.”

  “I’m disappointed there were no prints that might help.”

  “The items had been outside. I didn’t expect much. Is that what you came to ask me about?”

  “Not exactly.”

  I hadn’t gone to the police station to spill the beans about Gordon, though I was getting closer to doing exactly that. I was still concerned about the other ramifications for Fiona. It was more than the money. Gordon had committed an immeasurable betrayal, and I didn’t think Fiona needed that right now. Nevertheless, I was getting close to not caring much about the ramifications of bringing Gordon’s lie to light. I just wasn’t all the way there quite yet.

  “I have a question about something that happened a long time ago.”

  “All right.” He pulled out the notebook and pen he kept in his shirt pocket and placed them on the table, but he didn’t ready himself to write anything and his eyes squinted suspiciously. I imagine the secret room mystery was wearing thin for him. “I’ll do my best tae answer.”

  “There was a tragedy back when Edwin was at university. He was on a boat with friends and someone died,” I said.

  “Drowned?”

  “Maybe, or was killed, I think accidentally, with … a dirk.” I paused as his eyes squinted even more suspiciously. “Right, anyway, I think the police had to fish the body out of the water.”

  “Maybe like the dirk you brought in here?”

  “It’s the dirk that brought back the memory. Coincidence. Timing.”

  “Sounds terrible.”

  “I know.”

  “And what information would you like from me?”

  “Can you tell me anything about that old case? Maybe there’s something in a file somewhere. Also, is there a chance you know anything about a secret society at the university? Something called SPEC. Maybe something that was somehow a part of the death of the man on the boat?”

  Inspector Winters took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know what information I can get from a long-ago tragedy, but being that it was so long ago, perhaps it will be easy. Either the case is closed or cold. If it’s cold, are you saying you might have some information tae help solve it?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. It’s just … well, Edwin is so secretive. A person from his past has come back into his life. Rosie’s upset. I’m trying to get a clear story so I can smooth troubled waters,” I said. So far I hadn’t exactly lied.

  He gathered the pen and notepad and put them back into his pocket as he stood.

  “Who’s the friend?” he asked. “Perhaps someone who is also tied tae the dead man’s father who died in the fire a couple years ago?”

  “No, it’s someone else from his university days.” Still not really lying, but getting much closer. If he’d ask if the person who’d come into Edwin’s life was Gordon, it would have been a complete lie, but Inspector Winters thought Gordon was dead.

  He bit his bottom lip and looked at me. “I need tae know if you have any information about a crime, Delaney.”

  “I know. I brought the dirk and the business card right to you.”

  “You did. All right, give me a minute. I need tae ring someone.”

  I wasn’t alone for long. It seemed like only a few minutes before he came back.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have any immediate answers. I made a call, but I’ll need some time, and searching for the answers won’t be a big priority. We’re busy with current cases. Now, if you had something that might help us solve something old, I could get information more quickly.” He rubbed his chin. He was slightly overweight, giving his features a pleasant roundness.

  “Thank you for making the call, Inspector Winters,” I said.

  “Aye. You’re welcome. Thank you for bringing me the items you found at the castle.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The air was never so thick with untold truths, on both our parts probably.

  I stood and he escorted me out of the station.

  “Thank you,” I said again.

  “Stay in touch, Delaney from Kansas in America. And be careful.”

  “I will.”

  Though I got out of the police station without telling Inspector Winters that Gordon Armstrong was still alive, I felt so guilty about my attempt at manipulating him for answers that I wondered if he’d put the pieces together on his own. If he saw through my elusiveness, our friendship might soon come to an end.

  That would be disappointing.

  TWENTY

  “Delaney,” Edwin said, the disappointment thick in his voice even with just that one word.

  I nodded but I didn’t apologize. There were many reasons I didn’t utter the words, “I’m sorry,” but mostly just because I wasn’t sorry that I’d disappointed my boss.

  “I know, Edwin, I’ve dredged up a lot of things, but Clarissa’s reaction when I told her about Billy was one of the worst moments of my life, worse even than what I’ve done to you this week. I can’t believe I was responsible for putting her in the hospital. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to talk to her, but I did. You need to go see her; at least that’s what her cousin said to do.”

  Edwin nodded. “I will go see Clarissa. I wish I could have been the one tae tell her about Billy. It would have been better coming from me. I should have found her immediately.”

  “What’s Clarissa’s tie to you all, to Billy Armstrong?” I asked.

  We were in the warehouse. I’d double-checked the lock because I didn’t want there to be any chance we would be interrupted. Nevertheless, Edwin stood up and moved to the door. He checked the deadbolt and the knob.

  As he sat down again I tried not to look too quizzical, but I doubt I pulled it off.

  “Delaney, Billy Armstrong was Clarissa’s biological son,” he said after he folded his hands on his lap.

  “Oh, crap,” I said. My heart sank. Briefly, I had wondered ab
out that. I’d hoped it wasn’t true, hoped that the strangely mixed friendship of the three men and Clarissa hadn’t somehow led to Billy. Everything else in me sank with my heart. I’d surprised a woman with the news that her son had died, had been killed. “Oh, oh, oh, crap.”

  “Aye.” Edwin blinked at my blanching face and said, “She hadn’t known him, lass. She gave birth tae the boy, and Gordon and Fiona raised him from that moment. The news was terrible for her, I’m certain, but not what you might think, perhaps.”

  “Oh no,” I said. “Who was Billy’s biological father?”

  Edwin sighed. “We didn’t know.”

  “As in, she didn’t tell you?” I asked.

  Edwin’s mouth formed a straight, hard line. “I’m afraid it wasn’t that simple. The father—well, the father could have been one of three different men, or at least that was what she said back then.”

  “You, Leith, and Gordon?” I said.

  “I’m ashamed tae say it, but aye, we were the three. She claimed tae love all three of us, Delaney. We all … well, looking back I know that she was just trying to confuse the matter.” He sighed again. “The story makes us all sound like terrible and careless people. We weren’t. We were young, perhaps a wee bit careless, and Clarissa didn’t want tae keep the child. We think she wanted the father’s identity tae be unclear. She manipulated all of us, but we all went along with the manipulations. We never understood why she did what she did, but it was most likely because she was a frightened young woman. Back then, single women simply didn’t have and raise children. I haven’t seen her in almost fifty years, lass. None of us have. We broke ties after Billy was born.”

  “But how did Gordon come to raise Billy?”

  “Gordon and Fiona were already married, married young, before university actually. Fiona thought Clarissa was a friend of all of ours, and she was going tae give up the baby. Fiona couldn’t have children, so she took Billy in and was the best mother any child could hope for.”

  “Fiona didn’t know that Gordon might be Billy’s biological father?”