A Debt Is Finally Paid (A Marsden-Lacey Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Sigrid Vansandt

  “Do you ride, Sam?” she heard Piers ask.

  “I do.”

  The door closed on the scene. Soon the sound of hooves was heard heading away from the house. Celine thought about Sam.

  Senior Agosto got up from his seat and bent down to pick up the tea tray. Celine put her hand on his arm to stay him from his purpose.

  “Please wait,” she said softly. “Let’s have that tea.”

  She searched the kind face of the diminutive, older gentleman and waited. He nodded, sat back down and with quiet brevity, poured the tea.

  Chapter 33

  “THE BOAT IS NOT IN THE back current.”

  Alistair’s statement sounded flat almost like he didn’t believe his own eyes.

  “It must have floated further than we expected. Well, one thing’s for sure, it not far and it won’t make it under the small bridge past the grounds of Healy,” Perigrine said in a calm tone.

  The two men had worked their way along the tow path and climbed the stile over the rock wall into Healy’s estate. It was a short trip of only fifteen minutes from the place they’d left the police and the tied-up miscreants.

  If Alistair’s calculations were right, a narrowboat should have been ensconced in a lovely bend in the Calder near Healy where willows sweep the gentle current with their long, low branches. Unfortunately, not all plans are without their complications and this one had gone awry.

  “We need to go on, but proceeding on foot will take all night,” Alistair said. He’d sat down on the top of the stile and composed himself in a posture resembling Rodin’s sculpture, The Thinker.

  Perigrine leaned his tall frame against the rock wall and let one leg cross the other in a stance suggesting he was at total ease. In whole, they both appeared to be relaxed, thoughtful and nonplused by their perplexing situation.

  “I’ve always wanted to drive one of those jet skis. This would be the perfect moment to jump on one and zip down the river to find the boat. We should have planned it better, Al,” Perigrine reflected quietly while he pulled a piece of beef jerky out of his pocket and chewed on it.

  Alistair leaned over, rested both elbows on his knees and scratched his right ear. “Bloody hell! I’m losing my edge, P. Ten years ago, I would have had a backup plan. I was so sure of that back current and the time frame. That’s what comfortable living will do to you. Makes you soft.”

  Perigrine continued to chomp and chew unhurriedly on his jerky. “I once saw some chaps in Florida having a great time doing all sorts of tricks on jet skis. Someday we should go on vacation and give them a try.”

  Alistair turned to his old compatriot. “What’s the deal with the jet ski fantasy? We’re in a fix. I’m turning into a soft-minded simpleton and you’re babbling about our next vacation.”

  He was quiet for a minute then added unhappily, “At least we have landscaping to fall back on.”

  “Oh, come on, Al,” Perigrine said, fishing around in his pocket for more jerky, “it’s always darkest before the dawn.”

  With a steady gaze at the nighttime sky, Alistair said, “Apropos, to be sure but…”

  However, he went mute because there dangling from Perigrine’s fingers were two sets of keys instead of more beef jerky.

  “Shall we, old man?” Perigrine asked.

  Even in the moonlight Alistair could see the excited glint in his friend’s eye. “Absolutely!” Alistair jumped off of his perch on the rock wall. “I’m incredibly impressed, Perigrine. You saved our—”

  But Alistair’s last word would go unuttered. The cry of a nearby fox arrested their attention.

  “It always sounds like a woman’s scream. We’d better go. I’ll follow you,” he said.

  “That’ll be a first,” Perigrine muttered mischievously under his breath as he tossed himself easily back over the rock wall’s stile.

  “You usually have to be the leader. So trying at times. Always having to think of everything.”

  “I can hear you, you know? Quit being smug.” Alistair said without an overabundance of humor.

  Perigrine motioned for Alistair to follow. Directly beneath where the wall met the river was a derelict boat house in need of repair. Anyone cruising along the river or walking the tow path, wouldn’t pay much notice of it. Fortunately, Perigrine was a detail man, one who envisioned himself flying unrestrained across the surface of the river perched on the back of a powerful, agile jet ski.

  It’s a good thing dreamers dare to dream and smart people, if they’re truly smart, keep their dreamy friends close by. In Perigrine’s and Alistair’s case, this piece of wisdom proved not only useful, but timely. Within five minutes, they were both sporting extremely jaunty grins and zipping up the river, feeling the wind stripping them of their weariness and concerns. As they rounded one of the curves in the languid river, they saw the object of their desire: the Empire coyly pulled up to the embankment near a small dock. She was well-tied to the cleats.

  The boys, once they’d seen the boat, slowed their approach and their engines until they came to a full stop in the middle of the river. Alistair pointed to an area still in darkness along the river’s edge not far from the dock. Slowly, they drove their crafts to the indicated spot.

  For a time, they studied the narrowboat. Since someone had moved it there, it would be prudent to wait and watch before closing in on the boat.

  “There!” Perigrine pointed to the dock. Scrambling out of the boat and onto the dock, were two young boys. They laughed and chatted to each other.

  “How are you going to get home from here, Tallant?” the smaller of the two asked.

  “I’m not far Emmy. The house we’re staying in is over that hill. Ten minutes tops.”

  “I’d better run for it. I’ll see you soon!”

  The smaller child ran down the dock and jumped to the ground, leaving the other boy to watch him go. For a few seconds, it wasn’t certain if Tallant would begin his own journey. He turned around and walked back to where the boat was tied up. With a surety to his demeanor, even obvious in the half-light of the night, Tallant checked the lines while he sang the same tune they’d heard the day the Romani arrived below The Traveller’s Inn.

  By the light of the empire,

  By the light of the blue hen,

  By the light of the cherub,

  To the grave and beyond,

  To the grave and beyond.

  Finally, he turned to run down the dock and up the hill to the road. Within ten minutes, he would be back at the house, safe with his family.

  Both Perigrine and Alistair watched him go. With engines barely humming, they approached the tethered boat. Staying away from the dock, they neatly hid the jet skis against the embankment and covered them with brush then headed on land to the narrowboat.

  “What’s that moving on the deck?” Alistair asked in a hushed voice coming to a dead stop.

  “It’s a woman but she’s so unclear. She looking right at us and saying something.”

  “What’s she saying?”

  There on the deck of the Empire was a woman. Her words came floating across the water in a moaning sing-song way. “Mavia. Mavia,” she repeated and then she was gone.

  “Where’d she go?” Alistair asked.

  “Into thin air, Al. Was it a ghost?”

  “Absolutely not. It was probably the moon.”

  “When did the moon start singing words like Mavia? What does Mavia mean?” Perigrine chided.

  “Maybe the Romani boy’s voice carried and he said ‘Mavia’.”

  “Perhaps.”

  They’d no sooner boarded the Empire, when they heard a scream.

  “Was that a fox again?” Perigrine whispered to Alistair. “It sounded close.”

  “Wait. If we hear it again, I’ll be able to tell.”

  A second more muted cry came.

  “That’s not good,” Alistair said grimly. “Damn! We’re going to have to check it out. It came from the direction where the small boy walked off to. Proba
bly the kid.”

  The two men longingly gazed at the object of their night’s quest so ripe for the taking, but instead hurried off into the darkness. Empire and all her promises of power and valuable secrets would have to wait. The innocent needed a defender. Fortunately for Emerson, he would get two.

  Chapter 34

  “MARTHA, I KNOW THAT WAS Thomas Albright. Something is terribly wrong. Why in the world would he be here?” Helen was saying as the Green Bean moved down the hill and into the valley where Healy sat like a dream under the bright moon.

  “What if he’s an undercover police officer or a spy?” Martha asked, working herself up with a vision of ruthless secret agents.

  “Oh, come on, Martha. Those men he was with looked like criminals. Do you think he saw my face?”

  Martha was maneuvering the Mini Cooper through the iron gates to the estate. “No, I don’t but I do think he knew someone was in the car. He saw your legs so I’m pretty sure he also knows it was a woman.”

  Helen thought for a moment. “If that is Thomas Albright, why wouldn’t he have owned up to it especially if he were a police officer working for Nottingham? Johns has been hunting for him for two days.”

  “If he’s working for British Intelligence, he can’t tell anyone, even Johns,” Martha said and mused for a few seconds. “Would your friend Sharon have known him in a professional capacity?”

  “Albright? Most likely she did. Our fields would overlap and everyone knew how to find translators for different things.”

  “I wonder if Sharon contacted Albright about the letter?” Martha asked, thinking out loud. She slowed the car to a crawl while they both mulled over the possible connections.

  “If she did contact Albright about the letter, he may already know what it says.”

  “Why send the Romani to contact you, Helen? And why would Albright be standing in the way of the entrance back there?”

  “I’m trying to remember what Stephan said to me the first time I met him. He said something about the woman from Nottingham ‘pressing’ the letter back on Laura. That sounds like she wanted to be rid of it. She may have been afraid.”

  Martha brought the car to a standstill and turned to Helen. With a penetrating stare, she said, “Ever get the feeling the dead try to communicate with the living?”

  Helen, unnerved by the question, replied, “Like how?”

  “Remember the story Perigrine Clark told at the dinner party about the young girl whose ghost awakened him that night in the old mansion?”

  Helen nodded.

  “I get the feeling, Helen, this situation is similar. If Perigrine hadn’t been awakened by her, he and Alistair would have been caught. She saved them from the same plight she died from. From the minute you met Stephan Rossar-mescro you said you had an odd feeling about the man like you were being haunted. Remember?”

  “I do remember the feeling of holding the letter. Like history was trying to tell me something.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t history, maybe it was a ghost. It could have been Sharon or maybe someone who knew the Rossar-mescros.”

  “Whoever killed Sharon thinks I have the letter. They must want it terribly.”

  “Bad enough to kill Laura Rossar-mescro and most likely why we were shot at during Polly’s party. They don’t want anyone to figure out the letter. They think you already know and that’s why they’re trying to stop you. That letter must be very valuable in some way.”

  All of a sudden, Martha pressed the accelerator down, jolting the Mini Cooper into forward momentum and building speed like a Formula 1 competitor at the Monaco Grand Prix.

  Helen gripped the door handle and pushed her feet against the floorboards to steady herself. “Why are you driving like a crazy woman?” she asked over the engine’s growl while turning to stare at Martha to discern whether or not her friend had gone instantly insane.

  The yew trees lining the drive whipped past and the shadows they cast over the speeding car blinked in rapid succession on the Mini Cooper’s passengers. The bright moonlight and the darkness toggled back and forth, escalating Helen’s anxiety.

  “Because there’s a car honing in on us,” Martha said. “I can see its lights and they’re moving even faster than we are. It can’t be Johns because he left the inn only a few minutes ago, so it must be the men we were talking to. Something tells me, they put two and two together and realized you recognized them.”

  Helen turned around to see out the back window of the car. Coming down the first slope into Healy’s valley were the headlights of a car flying at top speed.

  “Martha, can’t you drive any faster?” Helen asked, agitated.

  Martha didn’t take her eyes off the road, but her lip curled up on one side in a roguish smile and she pressed down harder on the accelerator. The Green Bean plunged forward, the velocity pushing them deeper into their seats.

  “I’ve got an idea, Helen. Up at the last bend there’s a curve to the right, remember?” Martha asked.

  “Yeah, I remember. I think. Why?”

  “If we go on to Healy House, they’ll follow us. We can’t have that. If I turn off my headlamps and swing the car into that nook, they might go on by. We can go back the way we came and hopefully meet Merriam along the road. What do you say?”

  “Go for it.”

  Martha flipped the car’s headlamps off. The moon’s light was enough to see the road. As the Mini Cooper approached the curve, Martha whipped the car head-first into the snug, overgrown nook. With a cloud of dust hanging in the air outside, Helen and Martha both exhaled big sighs. They waited.

  Light flickered on the shrubbery and loomed brighter until they heard the sound of an engine approaching. It didn’t slow as it reached their hiding place, but instead the vehicle took the curve at breakneck speed, whipping the roadside vegetation around marvelously.

  “They took the bait. We’ve got to move.” Martha turned the engine back on without the headlamps. She eased the car out of its secret enclosure and revving the engine, took off back the way they’d come.

  “Do you think we lost them?” Helen asked while keeping a sharp eye on her side mirror for headlights in the distance.

  “For a short time. Call Merriam and tell him what we’ve done. Let’s think of a place to meet him.”

  Helen dialed her cell phone. “Chief, we think we’re being chased. We hope we gave them the slip. Can we meet you somewhere? The people who are after us went on to Healy so that’s a no go.”

  “Meet me at the crossroad where the Calder runs under the bridge. Do you know the place?” he asked.

  “Yes, we should be there in less than five minutes. Do you have a gun?” Helen asked.

  “What?” he asked so loud that Helen jerked the phone away from her ear.

  “A gun. Do you have a gun?” Helen repeated louder each time she said the word gun.

  “You Americans! No. I don’t and you two better not have one either.”

  Johns, on his end, was quiet for a moment. “Helen? Does Martha have a gun? Please tell me neither of you has a gun?”

  Helen held the phone away from her mouth and asked Martha, “Do we have a firearm of any kind in the car?”

  Martha shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

  “That was vague. Do we or don’t we have a gun in this car? Johns wants to know.”

  With one hand off the steering wheel, Martha did a quick finger-slash across her throat, indicating to stop the third degree. She said sweetly with her eyes blinking and in a stilted tone, “No, Helen. We do not have a firearm of any kind in our car. Why would we? We are two innocent women being chased by maniacs who want to kill us. Oh my! How will we ever protect ourselves?”

  Helen’s eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened into a severely compressed lip formation. She replied to Johns who was still waiting for the answer. “No, Chief. We don’t have any firearms according to Martha.”

  Martha rolled her eyes and silently mouthed the words, “goody two-shoes.”


  “That answer took way too long,” Johns said. “Tell Martha she better turn the gun over on her own at the crossroads or I’m arresting her on the spot.”

  Helen answered nervously, “Okay, I’ll tell her, but we don’t have a gun.”

  “Give me that phone,” Martha demanded and reached for it. “Got to go, Chief. See you in five.”

  Helen took the phone back, ended the call, and tucked the phone into the glove compartment.

  “The gun in the back is Polly’s,” Martha fumed. “I didn’t put it in here, but I’m glad we’ve got it. He can have the old thing. It’s his mother’s anyway.”

  “Where is it?” Helen asked.

  “In the trunk in my bag. Hey, there in the river, you can see a narrowboat coming down in the dark.”

  Martha pointed toward the river and a long narrowboat gliding on top of the black water. She slowed the car and pulled it over to the side of the road.

  “They don’t travel at night. It’s not safe. Do you think it’s one of the Rossar-mescro’s boats?” Helen asked.

  “It’s docking.”

  The boat came to a stop and two small figures moved on the deck.

  “Those are children, Helen!”

  “What are they doing? That’s got to be Emerson, don’t you think?”

  “We’ve got to get to the Chief. We need to tell him. Call Piers,” Martha said.

  Helen dialed Piers’ number. He answered. “Piers, we think we see Emerson. He’s on a narrowboat with another child. It’s hard to know for sure if it’s them but even from this distance, the smaller child’s hair looks blonde.”

  “What a relief! I’ve got horses saddled. Where did you see them?”

  “We’re right above the Calder on the bridge that crosses it a few minutes outside of the gates of Healy.”

  “It’s the old Healy dock. We’re on our way. Thank you, Helen.”

  Helen ended her call and turned to Martha. “He’s on his way now to get Emerson. Thank God, he’s okay.”

  Martha picked up speed and in a few minutes they arrived at their destination to find Chief Johns waiting for them. He walked over to the car as Martha rolled her window down.