‘We’ve heard of you, you know,’ said the grandmotherly lady who hadn’t introduced herself. ‘Word does travel between southern England and the islands. You’re a celebrated detective, aren’t you?’
‘Certainly not!’ Alan and I spoke together. I gestured for him to continue. ‘My wife has been fortunate enough to unravel a few problems. She has a keen mind and a healthy dose of common sense, and she’s good at sizing up people. She is in no way a detective, nor does she go out of her way to look for trouble. I can assure you that we came to this island in search of a peaceful holiday, and that’s what we intend to have.’
He didn’t quite glare at the rest, but he came close.
‘Of course, of course,’ said Mr Lewison. ‘Now, I wonder. Breakfast was some time ago, and I feel I could do justice to one of Jack’s pastries. What about the rest of you? I favour a chocolate croissant, myself. My treat.’
I stifled the urge to giggle. A treat to placate the quarrelsome children. Not only that, but chocolate, the sure cure for a Dementor attack. Shades of Harry Potter!
It worked, too. The ladies all reacted the same way, first with half-hearted protests about their need to watch their weight, then with acquiescence and a ‘just this once’. The conversation turned to general topics, and gradually the group broke up with murmured excuses about errands, chores, duties.
Sylvia was the last to leave. ‘I hope I didn’t offend you,’ she said in a return to her normal friendly, efficient manner. ‘I find it hard to keep still when I sense injustice, and of course you’re right. There were other people who had a quite mistaken impression of Bill. I won’t name names, but there was one man in particular who seemed to bristle whenever the two of them encountered one another. I must say I don’t know why, unless – but no, surely not.’
I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head and looked as interrogative as I could, but she shook her head. ‘No. It’s too petty. For either Bill or – the other man. I must go. I can’t say I have any appetite for lunch after our little indulgence, but my husband will be wanting some. Are you both still planning to take our walk this evening?’
For a moment I couldn’t remember what she was talking about. ‘Hedgehogs, darling,’ Alan reminded me. ‘And bats. It’s Thursday.’
I refrained from shuddering at the idea of the bats. ‘Oh, yes,’ I said brightly. ‘We’re looking forward to it.’
I don’t think I fooled anybody. Certainly not Alan.
We repaired to our room for a sandwich lunch and a conference. ‘Well, I don’t know that we accomplished much with that little exercise,’ I said, swallowing a mouthful of cheese and chutney.
‘Oh, I’m not so certain,’ said Alan. ‘Hand over some of those grapes, will you? We now know that Sylvia was half in love with Abercrombie.’
‘Just because she calls him “Bill”?’
‘And the fierce way she defended him, even when no defence seemed necessary. She’s a courteous person, but she was damn near rude to you.’
‘Yes, that was strange. And unexpected.’
‘And the other thing was the money.’
‘Money?’
‘The jumble sale. Abercrombie took over and the takings were less than usual.’
‘But that was because … oh.’
‘You’ve got it. You haven’t forgotten Alice’s story? The problem with her sister started with Abercrombie being accused of embezzling funds from his parish in America.’
‘Oh, good grief! And you think he was up to his old tricks here.’
‘It’s certainly a possibility. It would be a foolproof way to steal a few pounds; no one really checks on prices at that sort of event. And once he’d alienated some regular contributors and/or buyers, he would have had a perfect opportunity.’
‘But, Alan, think! A jumble sale never brings in big money. My church back in Indiana was over the moon one year when their annual sale netted over a thousand dollars. A percentage of that sort of profit, even a large percentage, is hardly enough for the risk.’
‘What risk? Nothing could ever be proved one way or another. And you saw for yourself. He had many of the parishioners here, even the vicar, or this priest anyway, charmed. They refused to believe anything negative about the man.’
‘Then you think the ones who hated him, like Alice and Robin, were right in their judgements, and the others were wrong.’
‘At this point I don’t think anything. All I’m saying is that there’s room for reasonable doubt about his character.’
‘And that means there’s also room for reasonable doubt about the way he died. Alan, what I’ve been wondering about is why the man came here. It’s a lovely place, but it’s not the hub of the universe. And if he was up to something shady, I’d think this would be the last place he’d want to settle. He could get by with some shenanigans for a while, but not for long, with everyone knowing what everyone else does.’
‘On the other hand,’ said Alan, ‘a remote island isn’t a bad place to escape one’s past. If his “shenanigans”, as you put it, had begun to make things difficult for him in America, he might have thought it prudent to remove himself. England might not have proved far enough away, but if someone mentioned Alderney, it might have seemed ideal. And remember, there are no passport formalities to get here. Officially, so to speak, he never left England.’
‘Making him hard to trace.’ I yawned. ‘You know, I’m really uneasy about this whole thing. Because we’ve met two people who might have had reason to give Abercrombie a good push, and the trouble is I like both of them a lot better than I’m beginning to like him.’
‘I agree. But I don’t see what we’re to do about it at this point.’
I yawned. ‘Oh, well. Nothing right now, I guess. When in doubt, sleep on it. It’s nap time, especially since we’re going to be up late tonight chasing bats. I just hope they don’t start chasing us.’
NINE
When we woke up, we went for a nice walk up and down Victoria Street. I did a little shopping, buying some really attractive tops that I didn’t in the least need, and a gorgeous Aran-type turtleneck that would be very useful indeed come winter. Then we wandered down to the harbour to investigate a little more fully what was there.
It was plain that most of the establishments were meant to serve the maritime crowd. There were showers and a small launderette for the benefit of people just off their boats. I took note of that in case I needed to use it later. There were lots of small places to eat casual food or pick up groceries. On the other hand, a shop called London House sold high-end electronics and was doing a thriving business. It seemed an unlikely spot for such a business, but I was reminded that many places I consider to be picturesque and unspoiled are in fact very much a part of the twenty-first century, with all its wonders – and troubles. We walked into the store, and one glance told me I’d find nothing of interest here.
Alan had other ideas. He was looking, in a half-hearted sort of way, for a new computer. It’s appalling how fast these things go out of date, and his was beginning to run more and more slowly. He was dragging his feet because he didn’t want to learn how to use a new one, and I could certainly sympathize. The older I get, the harder it seems to be to adjust to new technology. I was still just barely competent with the cell phone I’d bought some months before, the one I’d bought only because my simple old one had been smashed to bits in a fall down some extremely unyielding marble steps.
‘Alan, you wouldn’t want to buy a computer here,’ I said in a low tone. ‘You’d have to ship it home; it’s way too heavy for the Trislander.’
‘I’m just comparing prices,’ he said. ‘Some of these are real bargains.’
A salesperson came up just then. ‘I imagine you’re surprised to find such a good selection here, but computers are very important in Alderney. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to help,’ he went on with the warm smile I’d come to expect from island people. ‘Are you off a yacht, or staying in the town?’
> ‘Town,’ I said. ‘We’ve been here since Monday, and we’re loving it. But we’re just browsing.’
‘You’re American, aren’t you? Or Canadian?’
‘American, but I’ve lived in England for quite a while now.’
‘Ah.’ He gave us a closer look. ‘You wouldn’t be the couple who found the chap on the hill, would you?’
I think Alan and I sighed together. There was no escaping it, not on a small island. ‘As a matter of fact we are,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t a very pleasant experience.’
‘No, no, I’m sure it wasn’t. It was bad enough just hearing about it. He was a likeable chap, and a good customer, as well.’
‘Really,’ I said. ‘Now that does surprise me. Although I don’t know why it should. A retired clergyman is just as entitled as anyone else to enjoy the latest gadgets, I suppose.’
‘Ah, well, not too many of the clergy, retired or otherwise, can afford the very latest in audio equipment. And a brand-new laptop as well. He had an iPad on order, and my best TV. I’ve had to cancel those orders now. Yes, he’ll be sadly missed.’
Another customer claimed his attention, and he left Alan and me to a feast of speculation. ‘He was splashing a lot of money around,’ I said as we walked out the door.
‘And on very conspicuous purchases.’ Alan frowned. ‘It’s almost too much of a good thing.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If he came to this remote place to run away from his misdeeds in America, as we’ve been speculating, wouldn’t he have tried to keep a low profile? Concentrate on helping in the church, doing good works?’
‘He did all that.’
‘But he also went out and bought some very expensive electronics, toys obviously meant for himself. As you pointed out, it would have cost a great deal to ship them somewhere else. And it was rumoured that he was planning to buy a house. It seems he meant to turn it into a palace. That doesn’t reconcile very well with our idea that he had come here to hide.’
‘Oh, dear. You’re right. It doesn’t. Do you suppose we’re all wrong about him? He really was a nice man, generous with his time, greatly loved in his church?’
‘One thing we know: he was a complex man. There are too many different opinions about him. And I very much fear that if we’re to come to any intelligent conclusions, we’re going to have to sample a few more opinions. Come along, love. It’s nearly happy hour at the Georgian House, and I’m in need of a pint.’
We had our pints, and then we had a leisurely dinner at the Thai restaurant one street over, and then we came back to our room and read some more about Alderney until it was time to assemble at the Wildlife Trust office for our evening walk.
It was still quite light out. The sun only just set, but we had brought flashlights. Plainly before we were home again it would be dark, and we had no idea where we’d be walking. Quite a crowd had chosen to go on the walk, and I was amazed at the interest in bats, of all things.
Our guide on the walk was a French girl with an accent that was charming, if a little hard to understand. She explained that she was finishing her degree work in France and was in Alderney to do some research into the island’s wildlife. She stressed that her English was not perfect (‘A whole lot better than my French,’I whispered to Alan) and begged us to ask if there was something we didn’t understand.
‘We will look first for bats.’ She explained the species we expected to find, and I was extremely relieved that they did not include the huge fruit bats I had seen in a zoo back in Indiana. She handed us little black boxes and explained their use. ‘Bats use echolocation to find their way in the dark,’ she said. ‘They make very high-pitched sounds, too high for human ears to hear. These devices turn those sounds into clicks. If you hear the box clicking, it means there are bats nearby. Slow clicks tell you the bats are flying slowly, looking about for food. Very fast clicks mean the bats are flying fast, fast, catching insects.’ She showed us how to turn them on and wave them around, pointing in different directions to ‘hear’ bats.
I was too proud to cling to Alan’s arm, but I stuck very close by him as we ventured out into the twilight. We headed first for the churchyard. Of course, I thought. There’s a belfry. The saying isn’t just a cliché. I once visited a church in northern Indiana that did in fact have bats in its belfry. And on that occasion, also down in the church. I shuddered at the memory and moved a little closer to Alan.
We found no bats in the churchyard. ‘It is perhaps too early for them, or too open,’ said our guide. ‘We will go to a place that is more wild, more trees and bushes.’
After a little while I began to enjoy our walk through the lowering twilight. No one in the group was inclined to talk much; there was an intimacy to our quest that I found pleasant. Now and then someone’s little black box would emit a rapid series of clicks and we would all look around to try to spot the bat.
It wasn’t until we got into a woodsy area, with trees and undergrowth all around, that we actually saw bats. Then it seemed they were everywhere, crossing our path, swooping purposefully to catch food. The area was damp, and I began to wish I had brought some mosquito repellent, until the guide answered someone else’s question on the subject. ‘A bat can eat as many as five thousand mosquitoes in a night,’ she said. ‘That is what they are doing right now, eating the mosquitoes that would rather be eating you. They are very useful animals!’
I had to agree about that. Mosquitoes love me, and yet I hadn’t had a single bite. Well, hooray for bats!
Then our French guide turned the excursion over to Suzi, the hedgehog expert. She explained that the blonde hedgehogs were not native to Alderney. Legend had it that someone had bought a pair at Harrods, years ago, and brought them to the island, where they adapted beautifully to their new environment, obeying the biblical injunction to be fruitful and multiply. They had no natural enemies and were thus not wary, but could actually be approached and picked up. ‘And you don’t have to worry about doing that, because their quills aren’t especially spiny, they have soft fur on their undersides and they have no fleas!’
We trudged over a large portion of the island, farming areas, cliff tops, woods. We shone our flashlights into hedges. We turned down tiny lanes and came back again.
We saw not one hedgehog of any colour.
‘You know,’ I said to another member of the party, ‘I’ve never seen a hedgehog. We don’t have them in America, and for some reason they don’t seem to like my part of England, either. All I know about them is from Beatrix Potter: Mrs Tiggy-Winkle.’
‘And you know,’ said the woman, without a trace of a smile, ‘they really aren’t very good at doing laundry.’
We ended up in the garden of Suzi’s house. She explained that she regularly put food out for the hedgehogs, but it appeared that this evening her husband had forgotten to do it. No hedgehogs.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said to the group. ‘They’re wild animals, of course, and not entirely predictable, but …’
‘Another time,’ said one of the party. The trouble was, for some, perhaps most, of the group there might not be another time. Alderney is hard enough to reach that a visit might be a once-in-a-lifetime event.
I was mildly disappointed, but we would probably still be here next Thursday. At least the evening had given us a break from the vexing problem of the dead American. And all the walking we’d done that day had tired my body. I hope my brain would consent to shut down for the night, too, and let me sleep.
‘Nightmares, darling?’ asked Alan in the morning, as he was shaving.
‘Why, did I disturb you?’
‘Not much, but you were a trifle restless.’
‘I don’t remember anything except waking once with a vague sense of discomfort. Of course that could have been just because I needed to go to the bathroom. Whatever it was, it was gone when I went back to sleep.’
‘Probably bats. Though I thought you did very well with them last night.’
�
��They’ll never be my favourite animals, but I admit my opinion of them went up when they kept the mosquitoes away. I was sorry about the hedgehogs, though.’
‘Someone said the golf course is a good place to look for them. Perhaps tonight we’ll head that way and see if we can spot one.’
‘If we can find the place in the dark. You know, I never realized how much light there was at night in Sherebury until we came here, with almost no lights at all away from the town.’
‘And this is midsummer, with a fair amount of sky-light even in the middle of the night. Think what it must be like in the dead of winter.’
I shivered. ‘With winds strong enough to destroy the breakwater. Thank you, but I’ll stay away in winter. Hand me that sweater, would you? It’s chilly this morning. And oh, Alan, look at the fog.’
He had pulled the curtains open. ‘It’ll burn off. See, the sun is trying to break through. Did you have any particular plans for the day?’
‘If the fog hangs around, I might just stay in and read. Some of those books we got are fascinating, and there are some good ones in the lounge, too.’
‘You know, even if the fog does dissipate, and I’m reasonably sure it will, it might not be a bad idea to take it easy today. We’ve been keeping up a fairly brisk pace, and this is supposed to be a holiday. I hate to admit it, but I’m not as young as I was.’
‘Whereas I, of course, get younger every day. It’s just my muscles and bones that don’t seem to know that. Let’s not make any plans, just go with the flow.’
With the weekend approaching, some of the guests we’d begun to know a little were leaving and others coming in. I wondered, as I ate my simple breakfast of yogurt and fruit (chosen in guilty atonement for all the rich food I’d been eating), if it was possible that a murderer stood in the chatting group waiting for the taxi to the airport. We’d never actually talked to the other guests except to exchange greetings when we passed in the hall, small talk about the weather, that sort of thing. What if one of them …
There were no Americans among them. I wasn’t sure what difference that might make.
Smile and be a Villain Page 6