The stranger held up both hands, as if in surrender. “If you’ll allow me to explain, Ms. Ruskin?”
“I wouldn’t mind a cup of that coffee while Mr. Black tells you his story,” Cussler said to defuse the situation.
Mr. Black? Liss’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. One of the Men in Black seemed more appropriate.
“This better be good, ‘Mr. Black,’ ” Liss said aloud, and gestured for him to take a chair.
Her mother looked equally skeptical, but volunteered to fetch the coffee. It took her only a few minutes to dart into the kitchen and return with a tray containing two more cups, cream and sugar, and a carafe. In anticipation of company Liss had brought home the twelve-cup percolator she used when the MSBA met at the Emporium and had brewed a full pot.
Once the requirements of hospitality had been met, Vi sat down again, her hands folded in her lap. The stare she fixed on the interloper was identical to her daughter’s.
Black took a tentative sip of his coffee before setting the cup back in its saucer. He cleared his throat. “I am here as a courtesy to inform the family of Charles MacCrimmon of his honorable service to his country and to request that they make no further inquiries into his past.”
“So he was a spy.” A delighted Vi punched her husband on the arm. “I told you.”
“That’s not exactly what the man said.”
Black’s face showed no reaction. “I’m afraid I can’t go into detail.”
“Not even to tell us what government agency you work for?” Liss asked.
“Sorry.”
Mr. Black didn’t sound sorry. In fact, Liss had the strongest suspicion that her question amused him.
“There are a good many years of my brother’s life that remain unaccounted for,” Mac said. “Was he working for the government the whole time?”
“Yes, he was. More than that, I cannot say. The details are classified.”
“So it was after he retired that he set up as a private investigator?” Liss asked.
Black answered her with a nod.
She frowned as one of the loose ends surrounding her uncle’s murder suddenly made sense. “Did you search my aunt’s apartment before the police did?”
“I did not.”
“I don’t mean you personally. I mean someone from your mysterious supersecret agency. Did one of your colleagues take away some papers or maybe a laptop?”
“I really cannot say.”
Liss studied his enigmatic expression. She was 99 percent certain that if he’d been able to deny it, he would have. That meant someone had gone into Margaret’s apartment after Charlie was killed.
“What were you people looking for? Some reference to the secrets Charlie was keeping? He was planning to confess his past sins. Did you know that? Were you afraid he was going to reveal classified information?”
“I really cannot say,” Black repeated, but Liss sensed a wariness about him that hadn’t been evident earlier.
“Why did you follow me back from Florida?”
“You were, briefly, a person of interest.” He picked up the cup and drank from it, no doubt hoping to give the impression that he was unconcerned by her questions.
“ ‘A person of interest,’ ” Vi echoed. “Then I must have been one, too.” She sounded pleased by this conclusion. “Someone was watching me after Liss left.” She wagged a finger at Black. “One of your lot was keeping an eye on Charlie’s house.”
Black said nothing.
“Well, I’m glad to know we weren’t imagining things,” Liss said, “but you haven’t been very helpful.” She let a beat pass before once more going on the offensive. “It occurs to me that if someone was spying on Charlie, then that person must have been in a position to witness my uncle’s murder. How else would he have known it was safe to search Margaret’s apartment? I wonder—did you tell Detective Cussler here how you happened to know that Charlie was dead?”
If Cussler was surprised to find herself the focus of all eyes, she didn’t show it. “Mr. Black has been assisting us in our inquiries.”
“And?”
The detective shrugged. “Unfortunately, although someone was following your uncle the night he died, he was unable to identify Mr. MacCrimmon’s companion and did not actually witness the murder. After the other man came out alone from behind this house, the agent went into your backyard to investigate. Only then did he discover what had happened.”
Liss felt her temper spike. She rounded on Black. “Was my uncle still alive? Could you have saved him?”
He shook his head. “He was not.”
“So your agent just left him there?”
“He left him for us to find?” Dan’s fists were clenched and so were his teeth.
Liss was equally outraged. She fought to contain a rush of anger. It would not be a good idea to assault a federal agent, especially when there was a state police detective in the room.
She glanced at her father. Mac appeared to be at a loss for words. Not so her mother, but Vi directed her remarks to Kelly Cussler.
“They failed to report a homicide. Isn’t that a crime?”
Mr. Black’s voice was as bland as his facial expression was blank. “It was necessary to go through channels before involving the police.”
“And your man had a little breaking and entering to engage in first. I suppose that was more important than going after Charlie’s murderer.” Liss’s voice dripped contempt.
“The perpetrator was long gone before he found your uncle’s body.”
And that, it seemed, was as much information as “Mr. Black” was prepared to share. He stood, thanked Vi politely for the coffee, and was already in the front hall when Liss caught up with him.
“Wait just a minute.” She grabbed his coat sleeve. “I have one more question.”
“Yes?” His eyes were flat and cold, but he made no attempt to free himself.
“Charlie tapped into information on Merveilleuse International that shouldn’t have been easy to find. Did he use his old contacts within your agency to get the goods on them? Is that what attracted your attention?”
She didn’t expect him to admit it and she wasn’t disappointed, but neither was she ready to let go of him. When he took another step toward the door, she just tightened her grip and went with him.
“Did you know he was dying? Is that why you thought he might not care anymore about keeping your precious secrets?”
This time she saw a flash of some deeper emotion cross the agent’s face before he got himself under control. “In matters of national security, we cannot be too careful. Now, Ms. Ruskin, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. I have pressing matters to attend to.”
She released her hold and stepped back. “Go, by all means. Protect the country.” She didn’t bother hiding her sarcasm.
He came within a millimeter of cracking a frosty smile. “Your uncle was tenacious, too. It made him good at his job. That he was also a loose cannon caused some problems. I have the impression that you share that trait as well. Do yourself a favor, Ms. Ruskin. Accept that there aren’t any more loose ends to tie up. Let this be the end of the story.”
Bemused, she returned to the living room, barely noticing when Kelly Cussler also took her leave. There had been a compliment in there somewhere, and also a subtle threat. Mr. Black was just lucky she’d already decided that she no longer had any interest in digging deeper into Charlie’s past.
By the time she resumed her seat, she was smiling. She’d never responded well to being told what she should or should not do. She might be content to let the secrets in Charlie’s past stay buried, but in no other area would she attempt to curb her curiosity.
She reached for her cup, downed the remaining coffee in one gulp, and poured herself a refill. All things considered, she no longer felt inclined to change any of her bad habits.
A Note from the Author
Merveilleuse International is an entirely fictitious entity, as is their nefarious
scheme to exploit the good people of the equally fictitious Moosetookalook, Maine.
For the record, water-bottling companies currently operating in the state have been good for the local economy. The largest of these, in addition to monitoring the health of Maine’s lakes and streams, paid about $21 million in state and local taxes in 2017, spent $49 million on salaries and benefits for its 860 Maine workers, and bought more than $390 million in goods and services from the state’s businesses. It pays towns for their water, thereby reducing the cost to other consumers. This company bottles 900 million gallons of water annually, much less than 1 percent of the 2½ to 5 trillion gallons of groundwater available. All other human uses, including nearly 10 million gallons used by the state’s craft-beer industry, total around 49 billion gallons, leaving a surplus of more than 2 trillion gallons a year. These statistics come from the Bangor Daily News.
A View to a Kilt Page 25