He said, “Girls, I’d like to read you both the riot act—”
“Hold your horses, Chief,” Martha interrupted in a feisty tone, holding up her hand to quiet him. “We may have cleared one or two things up for you. There’s a narrowboat floating on the river by the old Healy dock and two small children were on board. Might be Emerson.”
She took a pause to breathe and when Johns thought he might get a word in edgewise, she held up a finger to stop him then continued her monologue.
“Also, the man you know as Richards is, in Helen’s opinion, Thomas Albright. In my opinion, he may be a secret agent or vicious criminal. I’m probably right but I’ll let you check it out using your police connections. And lastly, the woman who was killed, Sharon O’Connor, may have known Albright professionally.”
Johns stood right next to Martha’s window. He stared over the top of the low Mini Cooper’s roof.
Martha reached up and grabbed him by his tie and pulled him down closer so his head was even with hers in the window. She planted a kiss right on his nose which, by the expression on his face, stunned him even more.
“That’s better,” she said with a twinkle in her eye and a big grin. “Did you have something to say?”
At least three different conflicting expressions crossed the Chief’s face like clouds on a windy day scuttling across the sky. It was the last one that won the day though. With Martha still smiling up at him from her open window and her hand tight on his tie, Johns finally shook his head and grinned like a boy of twelve.
“You’re something, Littleword,” he said.
“That’s what I thought you were going to say,” Martha replied and pulled him in towards her again but this time she left off with the Eskimo delivery. No one complained.
Chapter 35
“GET DOWN,” PERIGRINE HISSED TO Alistair who was coming up behind him. Having easily covered the ground from the dock to where they thought the scream originated, the two men studied the scene.
There, in a grove of ancient yew trees, sat Emerson with his two arms wrapped around his bent legs. Two beefy-sized men stood off to one side. One was on the phone talking.
“We found a boy. What do you want us to do with him?” one of the hulks asked in a rough eastern accent. He held the phone away from his ear as someone on the other end screamed something.
“Okay, I don’t like it, but it’s done.”
The man put the phone in his pocket, saying something in Russian to his partner who kicked at the dirt with force.
“It’s Cousins’ child,” Alistair whispered. “It doesn’t bode well for the kid. I’ve got an idea. I’ll double back around to the left side and draw their attention. Emerson isn’t bound, so get him to run to you. Once you get him, run back to the boat. I’ll catch up with you. Get ready.”
Alistair slipped quietly off and Perigrine waited for what he knew would be coming. It was times like this that Perigrine remembered why he and Al enjoyed such a long association. Fun. They always had a lot of fun together.
“Who Who,” called a particularly pathetic owl, sounding more like a bored ventriloquist doing a half-hearted job.
“What’s that?” one tough asked the other.
Louder and with less enthusiasm than the first try came the repeat effort, “Who! Who! You morons!”
Both men took the bait and sprang out of the yew enclosure, giving Perigrine the chance to wave like a smiling, friendly savior to Emerson.
“Come on, Emerson,” he whispered to the boy as loudly as he dared.
Emerson, not a dumb child by any means, furtively glanced at the brutes, and jumped up and ran to Perigrine.
“I know Mr. Cousins and I’ll see to it you get back to him, okay?” P. assured the child.
“Okay,” the boy replied simply.
Picking up the youngster and tossing him around to grab onto Peregrine’s back like a monkey, P. ran for the dock.
Somewhere in the night a few thumps and a number of pain-induced cries emanated from a clump of ewe trees not far from the river Calder. The sounds were also easily heard by the ears of the powerfully built German Shepherd, Kaiser.
He growled low and stood in a posture of readiness. The finely-tuned ears pointed and twitched. His massive head turned toward the sound in the wood. Kaiser barked only once.
“What is it, Kaiser?” Piers asked eagerly, watching the dog’s body movements.
Again, the regal animal barked and his stance spoke volumes.
“Seek!” Piers commanded from his seat upon the horse.
Excellent hearing allowed the powerful dog to quickly hone in on his prey’s location. Like a lethal, noiseless bullet, he leapt forward into the night.
ON THEIR WAY BACK TO Healy to help join the search for Emerson and Tallant, the girls followed the Chief’s vehicle through the main gates. They stopped right inside the grounds to get into Johns’ utility vehicle. Scanning the landscape for the dock, the girls pointed in the direction where they hoped Emerson might be.
“The dock shouldn’t be difficult to find,” Johns said as he maneuvered the four-wheel drive over bumpy, difficult terrain sloping into the river valley. Fir tree limbs brushed against the sides of the vehicle. The occasional whack from a tree branch jarred their tired brains back into alertness.
Finally, the car emerged from the wooded terrain and they found themselves in a grassy pasture with a grove of ewe trees to one side and a few perfectly formed oak trees standing watch over the ancient meadow.
“Look!” Martha pointed to the stretch of river below. There with a soft beam of exquisite moon light pouring over its silhouette was the narrowboat. It sat peacefully beside the dock. No one moved upon its decks.
“Do you think the children went home?” Helen asked.
“Perhaps but there’s one way to find out,” Johns replied. “Let’s go see.”
He shifted down into a lower gear and slowly descended until, seeing a dirt road coming from the right, he was able to put the vehicle on a solid footing.
“This must be the path leading to the dock. If my calculations are right, we’ve doubled back close to the boundary line of the estate.”
He pointed to a feasible spot to park the vehicle directly below on the slope. The river was wide in its bed along this section of the landscape. Gentle, open countryside spread out in both directions within the much broader valley as a whole.
“Let’s check it out,” Martha said, getting out.
Helen, eager to see if Emerson was on the boat, said, “I’m right behind you.”
“No,” Johns said, killing their excitement. “Stay put in here. I need to check it out first. If anyone’s at home, they’re aware they’ve got visitors. Let’s do this the safe way.”
He got out of the vehicle and tromped down the slope and onto the rattling dock boards. The girls heard his muffled call announcing a police presence and the knock on the door. All was quiet.
“Come on, Helen. There’s nobody on board. Let’s go see for ourselves.”
The girls got out of the vehicle and walked down the slope.
They made it across the rattling boards of the dock and up to the edge of the boat. Martha climbed over first and took Helen’s hand to help her over. Helen didn’t move. She stood completely still.
“Are you coming?” Martha asked. There, in the pale moonlight, she saw Helen’s expression. It was like a sleep walker’s, with no movement of the facial muscles to hint at her inner thoughts.
“Helen?” she asked again, but got only a twitch of recognition. Martha tugged on her arm.
“Martha!” Helen exclaimed.
“What?” Martha replied, completely taken aback by Helen’s weirdness.
“Did you see her?”
“See who?”
“The ghost. The woman standing right beside you. She wants us to go inside. She’s gone,” Helen said in a voice raw with awe.
Goose flesh crept all over Martha’s skin, like she’d been stung from above. Sh
e scrambled back over the boat’s railing to stand next to Helen and stare back at the empty deck.
Johns came out from the cabin. Seeing Helen and Martha, he put his hands on his hips in a gesture of hopelessness and said sarcastically, “Didn’t want to stay in the car? Thought it would be more fun to live life dangerously and wander around a haunted boat.”
“Haunted. Why did you say that of all things right now?” Martha asked.
The Chief’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You just said ‘haunted boat.’ What makes you think it’s haunted?” Martha pushed forward, excited by the idea the boat might harbor a ghost.
Johns shook his head. “I meant it must have gotten here somehow, but I’m not finding any signs of life, Martha. It was a low attempt at explaining an oddity of the situation.”
“We saw two children bring the boat down, remember? But get ready for the real clincher, Helen saw a ghost, Merriam.”
“Uh huh? Well, it’s been a long night, Martha, and we’re all tired.”
“I didn’t imagine it and I want to go inside,” Helen said in a placid tone and so sure of herself, that as she stepped onto the boat and made her way to the cabin entrance, neither Johns nor Martha tried to stop her progress.
Once inside, Helen sat down at the banquet sitting area. Martha came in and sat beside her.
“You doing okay, buddy?” Martha asked in a soft, motherly way.
“I am. There’s something here, Martha. I’m trying to wrap my head around it.”
Johns stood in the doorway. “Have you made yourselves comfortable? The children aren’t here. I want you two back in the car while I go look for Emerson.”
“I’m not leaving, yet,” Helen said resolutely. “I need to stay for a few minutes longer.”
Martha and Johns exchanged “your friend/my friend is a bit touched” looks.
“Stay here, girls. I’m going to look for Emerson.” The Chief went up on deck.
“Let’s have a light so we can see better.” Pointing to the overhead lamp, Martha stood up and inspected the old oil Tiffany fixture. “My grandmother had one of these hanging over her kitchen dining table. It’s been a long time, but I think I remember how these like to be treated. Hey, this lamp is warm. It’s been recently lit.”
“Must have been the children,” Helen mused.
As the flame took hold on the wick, the two tired souls stared up into the flickering light and watched how it illuminated the multicolored pieces of glass. Martha tapped a soft beat on the table top with one of her newly painted fingernails.
Glancing repeatedly up at the light and back down at Martha’s tapping nail, Helen uttered a firm, “Yes. That has to be it. Since the day I met Stephan, something about these boats has needled me. Their names. Your nail polish reminded me of enamel and enamel reminded me of cloisonné.”
Helen continued, “I know you don’t believe me, but I saw a woman standing on this boat. What if she was trying to tell me something?”
She fiddled around with the lamp turning it and peering up into its interior.
“What are you doing?” Martha asked, curious.
Helen stopped and sat down. “A few years ago, there was a magazine article, I can’t remember who did it, but it was about the lost Fabergé eggs. The listed eggs had unusual names. What if those eggs were on these boats?”
“What do you think this woman was trying to tell you?” Martha asked.
“I’m beginning to think I’m crazy, but if you must know. I think she wanted me to come inside this boat and sit at this table.”
They scanned the room for a likely answer. The table was quaint and the booth cushions were fairly new. Nothing about the galley was extraordinary in any way except the beautiful hanging Tiffany-styled light lit above them.
“Oh, my God!” Helen exclaimed peering up into the lamp. “Give me a hand, Martha. See if you can find another light source. I want to take the lamp apart.”
Digging in drawers of the Galley kitchen, Martha found some matches and a nice sized candle sitting on the counter. She lit it and brought it over to the table.
Carefully they removed the shade and blew out the wick’s flame. Helen unscrewed the extremely large bottom section of the lamp where the oil was contained.
Once dismantled, they put the lamp’s bottom half on the galley table. Helen showed Martha where there appeared to be two separate sections connected together. With the right manipulation, the pieces neatly slid apart to reveal one part where the oil was housed and another equally-sized section with a minuscule hole only big enough for a pin to fit into.
“Do you have something to push in the opening?” Helen asked.
Martha went over to the kitchen area and found a metal shish kabob skewer and handed it to her. Gently inserting the pointed end into the tiny hole, the delicate door opened revealing packed insulation. With tentative fingers, Helen pulled out the protective material. Tucked into the back, something glittered.
Pushing her entire hand into the opening, her fingers wrapped around an oval yet rough-textured item. She pulled the hidden treasure from its metal cave. Once in the light, the exquisite beauty of the thing revealed itself.
With a trembling hand and voice, Helen said, “If I’m right, Martha, this is a Fabergé egg missing since the Romanov’s lost their throne. Sharon suspected something, too, about the names of the boats and she was killed because of it.”
For at least a minute, they marveled at the sheer magnificence of the beautiful, jewel-encrusted egg. Not more than seven inches tall and five inches around, it had lain wrapped and tucked into the family’s heirloom lamp for almost a hundred years.
“It’s worth millions, Martha. We need to get it to a bank or the constabulary’s vault. Put it in your bag, but be so gentle.”
Martha wrapped the egg with her sweater and tucked it into her bag. “We better keep it quiet we have it. Let’s tell Merriam, that is, if we can find him.”
Martha pulled back the curtain covering the window. Something outside arrested her attention. “There’s a small figure, Helen, running down the pasture to the boat. It might be Emerson. Good! There goes Merriam walking towards it.”
Chapter 36
PERIGRINE, HAVING SEEN THE POLICE vehicle, knew Emerson would be safe if he ran the rest of the way to the vehicle.
“I’m going to wait right here, Emerson, to make sure you get to the car. I’ve got to go back and check on my friend. I can see there are lights on inside the boat. Chief Johns is there and if you run right to him, I owe you an ice cream. Okay?”
“You’ve got a deal,” Emerson said with true childhood joy.
Perigrine scanned the pasture one more time and saw the all-too-familiar silhouette of the Chief stomping around on the boat’s deck.
“There he is, Emerson. Get on your way. It’s going to take you a few minutes to make it over the distance and down the slope, but you can do it. Don’t turn back. Go straight for the Chief.”
The young boy took off sprinting, but stopped and turned back to Peregrine. “I didn’t get to say thank you. What is your name?”
Perigrine’s green eyes twinkled. A thought occurred to him. “It’s the Fox and you’re welcome. Get going and don’t stop.”
The child smiled, waved and ran his best through the dew-covered long grass to the boat and safety.
Once the boy was half-way to his goal, Perigrine returned to the spot where he’d left Alistair. With the moon in its zenith, he was able to make out some definite shapes. There on top of a boulder sat Alistair. Perigrine slowed his run to a stroll and approached the thoughtful Al.
“Comfortable? Where are the two hacks?”
“Back there about twenty-feet.”
“Asleep?”
“You can call it that, if you want, but more like in need of a few weeks in hospital.”
Alistair was quiet for a few minutes and Perigrine didn’t push. “This has been fun tonight, P., old pal, but we aren’t a
ny closer to getting our nest eggs are we? Where's Emerson?”
“Well, what do you want to hear, the good news or the bad news first?”
“Always the bad news first,” Alistair replied.
“The bad news is Chief Johns is on the narrowboat we just left. The good news is Emerson is safe. What should we do with the two hulks lying on the grass over there?”
“Hmm. I don’t think we need to worry about it. Here comes the cavalry.”
Alistair, from atop his perch, pointed at the two riders crossing the pasture on their right with a massive dog in the lead.
“Let’s get up into the trees and watch the excitement from the comfort of a limb,” Perigrine said. They climbed fast into the branches of an old oak tree still full with its golden leaves.
“Watch this,” Alistair said putting his hands together in the shape of a megaphone, he called out, “Hey! Over here! Come on, help yell.”
Together they hooted and hollered until they heard the beating of the horses’ hooves on the ground getting closer.
Soon they were grateful they’d climbed the distance from earth to branch. Kaiser came bounding through the grass followed in the distance by the two horses and riders. At first, the German Shepherd sniffed the two unconscious men and stalked around the perimeter of the area as if he believed there was more to the picture than it appeared, but as the riders approached, he went over and waited.
Piers and Sam jumped down and walked over to the two men lying quietly on the ground neatly bound and unconscious.
“These men have been badly beaten,” Piers said. “They’ve got zip ties around their ankles and wrists.”
Sam inspected the men. He bent down to check for a pulse. “They’re alive.” He scanned the area. “Why would anyone tie them up?”
“Don’t release them, Sam. They shouldn’t be here and Kaiser knew it before any of us. The way they’re bound and laid out so neatly, it feels like someone has given them as a…gift.”
A Debt Is Finally Paid (A Marsden-Lacey Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 18