“Edwin,” I said, interrupting the quiet.
“Aye?”
“Why are we delivering this to Birk?”
“It’s the book he wanted.”
“No, I mean, why us? You and me. If book delivery is one of my tasks, I’m happy to do it, but something tells me there’s more. Do you think he had something to do with Jenny’s murder?”
He glanced at me briefly, his eyebrows high. “Gracious, Delaney, how did you come tae think such a thing?”
“Just because, I suppose. Do you want to let me in on what we’re trying to get out of him, or why you think he might have somehow been involved?”
Edwin smiled my direction, but turned his sad eyes back to the road again quickly. “You’re a clever lass. Tae be clear, I don’t think Birk murdered my sister, but if she was killed because of the Folio, I want tae know the real story of how and where it came from. I think there’s not one thing wrong with you learning the real story with me.”
“Did Birk know Jenny?”
“Aye. All of my friends knew my sister.”
I nodded and paused briefly. “What about Monroe and his black eye?”
“I don’t know where Monroe received his black eye, but I don’t think it was a blow from Jenny’s fist, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“What about Genevieve?”
“Genevieve Begbie?”
“Yes, Rosie mentioned that Genevieve and Jenny had a rough time.”
“Rosie, such blether. No, that was decades ago.”
“Broken hearts sometimes stay broken, even after decades pass.”
“No,” Edwin said, but I heard a tinge of doubt in his voice.
I let him think through the rudimentary ideas I’d thrown out.
“Did you have a chance to call the police?” I asked a moment later, though I knew he hadn’t. We’d been in the same room since Rosie had given him the message, and I hadn’t seen him on a phone.
“No, I will though.”
“Do you think Hamlet told them about the Folio?”
“No, I know he didn’t.” All doubt was gone from his voice.
I nodded. If he was sure, I was sure too. At least for now.
We’d traveled toward the northwest part of Edinburgh, and the castle was nowhere in sight. A moment or two after turning into a clearly affluent neighborhood, Edwin steered the Citroën up a steep and curved driveway. The grass next to the driveway was green and groomed to perfection, and seemingly endless. There were no big trees, but there were a few precisely manicured shrubs here and there, and the lawn might have stretched all the way to the sea for all I could tell.
“Oh, my goodness,” I said when we turned another curve and then reached the top of the hill. I’d never seen anything like the house, no, mansion—or was it a castle? No, not a castle. It was a mansion that verged on being a castle, probably something like Edwin’s home estate.
“This place is stunning,” I said.
“Aye, it’s quite nice,” Edwin said genuinely after we got out of the car. “Come along.”
I carried the book and followed Edwin the rest of the way up the curved driveway and then onto a granite walkway. I didn’t want to be intimidated, but I couldn’t help it. It seemed like my clothes and shoes didn’t fit quite right, like I’d been transported to another planet instead of just another country. I gave myself a silent pep talk and waited next to Edwin as he knocked an even rhythm with the giant golden knocker on one of the two wide, also gold, front doors.
Edwin leaned over and quietly said, “Birk’s a direct descendant of our own King Henry. He might mention that to you if he didn’t already at the auction. Don’t act impressed, or he’ll go on and on.”
“Birk Blackburn. Sounds like a pirate’s name.”
“Oh, lass, don’t tell him that. He would like the idea too much, manipulate it into something romantic and legendary.”
The door opened.
“Edwin, my friend, I am so sorry about Jenny. My heart is breaking for you,” Birk said. He glanced my direction and nodded once.
Again, Birk was clad in mostly gold. His robe was gold silk with red trim; the pipe in his hand was carved from dark wood, but was also trimmed in gold. The tobacco scent was pleasant, but I stifled an urge to wrinkle my nose as a thick pocket of aroma traveled directly toward my nostrils.
“Thank you, Birk,” Edwin said. “We’ve brought your book.”
“Welcome. Come in.” Birk stood back as the door swung wider and then back another step as I entered. The inside of the house matched the man. Everything seemed unbearably ostentatious and gilded in gold. There was no way all the extravagant items I saw could possibly be real, genuine gold, could they? I’d never known anyone who had real gold picture frames, real gold tiles on the walls, along with golden accented tables and chairs. It was unreal.
“Wow,” I said because I couldn’t help myself.
“Aye, it’s quite a place isn’t it?” Birk said proudly.
“Yes, Birk, quite a place,” Edwin said.
I didn’t think that the thread of irritation I heard in Edwin’s voice and Birk’s false manner could be because of jealousy, but they didn’t behave as if they were friends. No, that wasn’t it, I realized. They behaved as if they were friends, but spoke to each other in unfriendly tones. I needed to gain a clearer understanding of their relationship.
Birk’s eyes landed on the book I held. I handed it to him, suddenly realizing I’d been holding on to it very tightly.
“Lovely. Come in. I have whisky or tea or coffee. And I must tell you about King Henry. On this day of mourning it might be the cheer-up we all need.” Birk looked at me with a hint of his dazzling smile.
I didn’t want whisky, and the idea that I wanted to wait to try it in Tom’s pub ran through my mind. I didn’t want to be rude, though. I glanced at Edwin and he took the lead.
“Coffee would be perfect,” Edwin said.
Birk clapped his hands together with two hard hits. I waited for some lights to turn off or on, but instead a woman entered through a side hallway.
“Aye?” she said. Her eyes were dull and bored and framed by lots of sagging skin. Her roundish body didn’t seem as old as her face, but I thought she must have been in her sixties. She was dressed in a classic maid’s outfit—conservative black dress, white apron, white cap.
“Coffee and something sweet, please, Ingy,” Birk said.
“Aye, sir,” she said before she turned and shuffled away.
“Ingy’s been with me forever. I’m very fond of her,” Birk said.
I’d seen no sign of fondness from either of them but I nodded and smiled.
“Come, please sit down,” Birk said as he stepped through an entryway to his right. The room was big, cavernous, and filled with even more gold stuff—the fireplace mantel, the mirror frame, the furniture armrests, some threads through the large rug, and the corner pieces on the bookshelves, just to note a few.
“Have a seat, Delaney,” Edwin said.
I sat on one of the chairs, Edwin on another. Birk sat on a couch and crossed his legs, one of his hairy calves becoming exposed. If he decided to change positions, I really hoped he had underwear on, but something about Birk told me he might not like underwear.
He was the second man I’d seen in his robe. Was it a Scottish thing, or a coincidence?
“Thank you for the book, Edwin. You really didn’t need tae bring it out today. It could have waited,” Birk said. He’d set the book on the couch and gingerly opened the cover with his index finger. It wasn’t an extremely valuable copy, but I appreciated the careful maneuver.
“I’m sorry about the delay, Birk. I should have brought it a couple days ago, and then circumstances caused some distraction.”
Birk closed the book and gave his full attention to Edwin. “Such tragic news.”
“Aye, well, thank you for your condolences, but I have an ulterior motive for coming out today. As I explained tae you at the auction, Delaney
will be taking over most of my duties. I think it’s best tae begin training someone when I’m healthy.”
“I understand,” Birk said as he sat up a little straighter. I saw more of his knee, but everything else remained covered. He looked at me. “Edwin MacAlister doesn’t trust many people with his secrets, Delaney. You must be very special.”
“I hope I can be what he needs me to be. And I have a question,” I said.
“Aye?” Birk said.
Edwin jumped in before I could ask. “I know you told her about the Folio, Birk, but I haven’t told her how you found it. I want tae make sure the story is true. If it isn’t, I hope you’ll tell us the true version today.” Edwin looked at me. “According tae Birk, it was something discovered in the depths of one of our old and haunted places. We have lots of secrets, hidden places, and as I’ve mentioned lots of ghosts.”
“I can’t wait to explore,” I said as the hair stood up on my arms.
“Actually, it was one of my acquaintances who found the item, and then put it in a place where I had tae search for it,” Birk said with an unequivocal tone. “We don’t know where it had been for so long before that. I was sent on a treasure hunt. And my story is true.”
“Treasure hunt?” I said.
“That’s what we were all told,” Edwin said.
“And, that’s certainly what happened,” Birk said, his mouth pinched obstinately.
“Oh?” I said as expectantly as I could.
Then Birk said something that surprised me. I saw a flash of the same surprise in Edwin’s eyes, but he recovered quickly.
“So, have you seen it? What do you think? Edwin wanted you tae see it,” Birk said. He sat forward on the couch and lowered his voice now.
“Not yet,” I said as evenly as possible, wishing Edwin had prepped me better.
It was that moment when I realized that what I’d learned about my boss, from our interview and Rosie’s blether, was an incomplete picture. On our original call, he was curious, listened intently. According to Rosie, Edwin was good-hearted but scatterbrained, perhaps even somewhat foolish. I’d known on some level he was also smart, but it became clear at that moment that he was very smart. Edwin hadn’t prepped me for this conversation because he wanted spontaneity. It was his way of judging whether or not Birk knew the Folio was missing.
The disappointment showed in Birk’s face, though I wasn’t sure who he was more disappointed in, me or Edwin. Nevertheless, it was genuine, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Edwin tilt his head just enough to acknowledge to himself that Birk, in fact, most likely didn’t know the Folio was missing.
“So, it’s a real First Folio? That’s quite a discovery,” I said.
“Birk says it is,” Edwin said. “I believe it is.”
“It’s real,” Birk said. “Look it over, front tae back. I will gladly give back every pound paid for it and put it back up for auction if there are any concerns or questions, or even if you change your mind, Edwin. I know many bidders regretted not continuing tae participate in the auction. Bring it back tae me this afternoon. I’ll have the money.”
Edwin’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Another sign. “Thank you, Birk. I appreciate that, but I’m going tae keep it.”
“Why didn’t you just have Delaney look at it before you came here?” Birk asked.
Edwin shrugged.
“I don’t understand. You’re baurmie, old man, a fool,” Birk said, but then he smiled a big white toothy grin, and I thought I finally saw the friendship between the two men.
Edwin’s mobile phone jingled.
“Excuse me a minute,” he said as he stood, pulled the phone out of his pocket, and left the room.
“Birk, please tell me the whole story of how you obtained the Folio,” I said as his eyes tracked Edwin’s departure.
Birk sat back and put the pipe in his mouth. He held the mouthpiece with his teeth a moment. Then he closed his lips around the pipe, lit it, and pulled and puffed once.
“How much do you know about Edinburgh?” he said.
I laughed. “Very little, really, but I’m excited to learn more. I did some research before arriving, but barely scratched the surface.”
“You know how haunted we are, or you have some idea?”
“Well, I suppose.”
“Aye, we’re haunted tae the very core of our buried bones. History, battles fought, both lost and won. Good, bad. We’re a mix of it all. You’ll see. You’ll come upon a ghostie or two while you’re here. Everyone does.”
He was so sincere that I held back the conspiratorial wink or doubtful agreement that would usually go with such comments.
“All right,” I said as the hair tickled on my arm again.
“Anyway, what if the Folio was found in a place that was underground, a place where no one has lived for a long time?” He leaned forward and lowered his voice again. “A place that we show tae tourists now. There’s probably a tour going through there right this minute, in fact.”
I nodded. “Interesting.”
“What would you think about a ghost leading the way tae the treasure, perhaps leading a weary soul who thought they might be beginning tae lose their faculties, tae hear voices?”
I swallowed. Having my own cast of voices in my head had never made me think I was losing my faculties, but maybe it should have.
“I’m not exactly sure,” I said.
“A fine character sought me out as I was indulging in my favorite breakfast at a lovely place called Elephants and Bagels—you must try them. Anyway, this man came up tae me. He was much more than a wee bit down on his luck. His clothes were torn and filthy. Actually ‘torn’ and ‘filthy’ might be adequate words for the rest of him too, but I don’t want tae sound cruel. He approached me as I exited the store. I thought he was a simple beggar and though I don’t tend tae give money tae many beggars, there was something about his eyes that made me stop and listen tae him when he pulled on my sleeve and told me he had something he wanted tae tell me.
“He told me his story. He told me he’d found the manuscript, though he just called it a magical book, as he was trespassing, tailing along on a tour he snuck into to escape the rain one day. He told me that once inside and as they trailed down into the depths, voices guided him directly tae it, and then the voices told him tae find me and tell me where it was located, that I should retrieve it.”
It was very far-fetched, certainly, but a part of me wanted to believe it was true. Magic books, voices directing the way.
“What made you put it up for auction?” I asked.
“I had it for over three years, Delaney. I was doing nothing with it. I thought about giving it tae a legitimate museum, but I have friends like Edwin who I was sure would want tae own it. I thought more of my friends than I did of the greater good, I realize that and I fully admit it, but there it is.”
Interesting. And three years was long enough to keep anyone from finding the mystery man in the restaurant, but it wouldn’t do me much good to point out the holes in the story.
Birk glanced toward the hallway. I could hear Edwin’s voice but it was quiet, as if he’d moved well past the entryway. Birk sat even farther forward on the couch. He leaned toward me and said quietly, “Delaney, you’ve got tae do something about Edwin.”
I blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“We’re all worried about him. Of course, saddened that Jenny was killed, but before that tragedy occurred we were worried. He gave the Folio tae his sister tae care for. He told me that in confidence, but his desire tae include Jenny more in his life and business had worried us all. He told me he was going tae retrieve the Folio from her, but it never should have been left in her care. When we heard you were being hired, Genevieve and I—and others—hoped you would also watch closely over our friend and his decisions. I’ll leave it at that for now, but please be on the lookout. And frankly”—he sent another anxious look toward the hallway—“none of us are the least bit surprised about Jenny.”
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“How well did you know her?” I said.
“Since she was born. Edwin and I were childhood friends.”
“Who do you think might have killed her?” I said.
“Och, one of her drug friends, certainly. She made some terrible choices.”
“But she was doing better, right? Even if you didn’t think she should be involved in Edwin’s life, she was doing better?”
Birk shook his head slowly. “I don’t think she was doing much better. None of us do.”
“I don’t understand. I didn’t know her. How would her being more a part of Edwin’s life cause problems? Did she behave obnoxiously?”
“On the contrary. She was the picture of social propriety.”
“Why didn’t you want her involved then?”
“History.” Birk looked at me with sad eyes. “Things I can’t relay tae you because you weren’t here over the years. You didn’t see the damage caused, the hearts broken, the friendships tattered, the trust broken apart. Hard feelings that have been protected and perhaps buried for years. There’s no need for Edwin tae have included Jenny in his business other than he was trying to mend his own broken trusts with her. He shouldn’t have included the rest of us, some who might not have wanted tae think about his sister or forgive her.”
“You didn’t want to forgive her?”
“Not me.”
“Morgan Ross and Genevieve Begbie, maybe?” I said.
“Aye,” he said as though he was impressed.
“If I wanted to talk to Mr. Ross and Ms. Begbie, how would I find them?”
Birk looked at me a long moment. As he was contemplating my question, Ingy brought in a golden tray adorned with a golden coffee carafe, gold cups, and a gold plate piled with shortbread cookies.
“Ingy,” Birk said quietly after he glanced out to the hallway once again, “please write down the contact information for Morgan Ross and Genevieve Begbie. Sneak the piece of paper with their addresses and phone numbers into Ms. Nichols’s possession without Edwin noticing. Please. And add my phone number too. Just in case.”
“Oh, I wasn’t…” I began.
Birk winked at me. Ingy looked back and forth between Birk and me, her sad eyes drooping a tiny bit more, before she set the tray on a side table next to Birk and left the room.
The Cracked Spine Page 11