“Looks like I’ll be serving,” Birk said as he stood and reached for the carafe. “Coffee?”
Edwin rejoined us but didn’t offer up what the phone call was about. We drank coffee and ate cookies as Birk made me tell him all about Kansas. He was fascinated by farm life, by my work in the museum. Before long, the conversation flowed easily between the three of us. I caught Edwin observing the interaction between Birk and me a time or two.
As we left, I realized I liked Birk, but I still didn’t trust him. He probably felt the same about me. I wasn’t going to be his spy, but I hoped that’s not what he’d been asking. There was a chance his concern for Edwin was genuine and based upon the affection of a lifelong friendship. I would watch for disturbing signs from my new boss, but I wouldn’t report back to Birk.
I also didn’t trust Genevieve and Monroe, but I didn’t think Birk thought that was my reason for wanting to contact them. I was grateful for the folded piece of paper that Ingy slipped into my hand as we were all gathered by the front door. Edwin gave Ingy a questioning glance but didn’t inquire as to why she was standing so close to me for a moment while not offering up any sort of farewell to either him or me. I hadn’t planned on being so secretive, but it didn’t seem like a bad idea. At least for now.
As Edwin drove the Citroën away from the mansion, I glanced in the car’s side mirror. Birk stood in the open golden doorway as he puffed on his pipe much more seriously now.
I didn’t think he could see me looking, or my smile as I noticed Ingy next to him, one hand on her hip and her other hand’s index finger pointing at him as adamantly as she spoke. She wasn’t happy. Birk didn’t seem to care.
“Where to now?” I said.
“How about Jenny’s flat?” Edwin said.
“Good idea.”
I’d slipped the paper in my pocket and it beckoned me to give it a look, but I resisted. I felt a little disloyal to my new boss, but not too much. I suddenly decided that it was far too soon to know who to trust.
THIRTEEN
The route Edwin took to Jenny’s flat was slightly different than the route Elias had taken, but I was still able to orient myself using the castle. I liked how quickly I seemed to be catching on to a few locations. I didn’t admit to Edwin that I’d been at Jenny’s the day before.
“She lived there, in that brown building,” Edwin said as he stopped out front in almost the identical spot Elias had stopped.
I felt guilty enough about my lie of omission that I just made a noncommittal sound as I looked at the building too. Today, the clouds weren’t as ominous. It currently wasn’t raining, but the whole place still seemed spooky.
“Let’s see if we can get inside,” Edwin said. “The police should be done. Perhaps we can make a better search of it. I doubt we’ll find any clues the police didn’t find, but if the Folio is there, some place I didn’t see it, we can at least rule out that it had something tae do with her death.”
I looked at Edwin.
“You really did think that Birk might have had something to do with her death, didn’t you? I mean because of the Folio. Did you think he wanted the Folio back and killed Jenny to get it?”
“I wasn’t sure, Delaney. I hoped not, but he’s a crafty fellow. I told Rosie and Hamlet that Jenny had the Folio and then you of course, and there’s no doubt in my mind that they and you didn’t have anything tae do with her death. I just had tae see for myself if I could catch Birk off guard, if he would act suspicious when I asked the questions. I’ve known him for so long that I thought I would be able tae read his face, perhaps a flash of guilt in his eyes. But I saw nothing that made me suspicious. I don’t think I’m being naive. I just had tae see for myself. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” I said. “If it’s any help, I don’t think he has any idea the Folio has gone missing. I got no sense that he now had it in his possession.”
He nodded and then turned off the engine. “Come along, let’s go talk tae the manager.”
I followed Edwin inside the brown, dreary building. We were greeted by the same quiet I’d noticed the day before, but it was much less eerie when I had someone with me.
Only a few moments after Edwin’s enthusiastic knock on his door, the manager opened it wide. Since I’d seen a couple of men dressed in their robes when they opened their doors I was a little surprised to find this one fully clothed.
“Ah, Edwin,” he said as he hiked up his jeans and then extended his hand. “I’m sae sairy aboot yer sister. Come in, come in.”
The manager looked at me and nodded with a questioning glance. I just smiled.
“Thanks, Harry. Delaney, this is the building manager, Harry Boyd. Harry, this is my new employee, Delaney Nichols.”
He shook my hand but still didn’t smile. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that had a small oily stain over the right shoulder. There was a glimmer to the stain that made me think it had landed there recently. He was blondish and pale but the stubble on his face was dark. The combination, along with his big, muscular arms and big thighs, made him seem tough in a stereotypical neighborhood bully kind of way.
“We’d like tae go up to Jenny’s flat if that’s all right,” Edwin continued.
“Dinnae mynd a bit.” Harry shrugged. “The police told me I could clear it oot anytime. I was going tae call you later today tae discuss that with ye. I was hoping ye’d take whatever of Jenny’s ye wanted. I can sell whatever ye dinnae want tae keep. I’m really sairy, Edwin.”
“Thank you, Harry.” Edwin swallowed hard. “I didn’t bring my key tae the flat. Would you mind letting us in?”
“Dinnae mind,” he said again. He produced a large key ring that must have been uncomfortable in the back pocket it came from. “Let’s go.”
Harry stepped out of his flat and pulled the door closed. He somehow found the correct key on his chock-full key ring and had the door locked quicker than I could have handled it with only one key.
As we turned, we were greeted by the man who lived across the hall. He was still in his robe, or in it again, but I suspected “still” was more accurate.
He looked only at me as he took a sip of something from the mug he held. I didn’t see steam so it wasn’t a warm drink.
“Good afternoon,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t give me away.
“Afternoon,” he said. He looked at Harry and Edwin and then backed into his flat with two long steps, closing the door behind him.
“Ah, ignore him,” Harry said. “The man is nosier than an old biddy with nothing better tae do. I dinnae ken how he always kens when someone is oot here, but he opens the door and greets them in his robe. I’ve asked him tae stop, but he doesnae care tae listen.”
I walked behind Edwin and Harry and mouthed “Thank you” to the peephole in case he was watching.
Harry led the way to the elevator and up to the third floor. There wasn’t any conversation, but our silence wasn’t strained.
The third floor was similar to the first floor, achingly silent.
“It sure is quiet around here,” I said.
“We have an unusual amount of quiet residents,” Harry said. “Makes my job more pleasant, not telling people tae shut up and keep it doon all the time.”
The third floor also looked just like the first floor except for a couple of leftover pieces of crime scene tape over one door.
Harry peeled them off and said, “I kept it on there just in case. I doot anyone will be curious enough tae break in and look around, but I thought it might help deter the curious. I’ll leave it taped tae the wall if ye want tae put it back up when ye’re done. I wilnae try tae rent out the place for a wee bit. Jenny was paid up through this month and next.”
“She was?” Edwin said.
“Aye. She’d been keeping up with her rent these last six months or so. I havenae had tae call ye once.”
“No, you haven’t. I hadn’t thought about that. That’s good tae know.”
“Uh-huh,” Harry said as he
pushed open the door. “Do whatever ye need tae do in there. Just close the door when ye’re done. It’ll lock. Put up the tape if ye want.”
“We will. Thank you, Harry.”
“Aye,” he said.
He left us inside the flat, closing the door behind him.
“This is it. It’s a mess right now, but Jenny usually kept it a wee bit neater,” Edwin said, his voice shaky. “Down the hallway tae the left is where her body was, and I suspect there might still be bloodstains there. Just stay in this part if you’d prefer.”
I nodded and looked around. It was a mess, items strewn everywhere, furniture off its mark. “Did the police do this?”
“Some, but it was mostly like this when I came in and found her. It was the first thing I noticed and caused me immediate concern. Even on her worst days, Jenny wasn’t this messy,” he said with a sad sigh.
“This can’t be easy, Edwin,” I said. “Are you sure you want to be here?”
“Aye, Delaney. You are correct. I’m in a tough spot though. There might be something here that the police overlooked because they don’t have the whole story. If we find something—anything—that would lead tae Jenny’s killer, I will hand it over and do my best tae explain the rest tae them if the Folio is involved. I want tae be here. I want tae do this. I feel like I have tae.”
“Even after visiting with Birk, you don’t feel like you can tell the police about the Folio? I don’t understand, Edwin. Birk would tell them the same story, wouldn’t he? I don’t think he could be suspected of anything nefarious; well, that could be proven at least. You telling them about the Folio wouldn’t implicate him, I don’t think.”
“I agree, but I need tae take the steps I need tae take. I want tae explore all the avenues first. I know that doesn’t make sense tae someone who doesn’t have the history, but it’s more than Birk, it’s my business, perhaps the entire Fleshmarket Batch. It’s not my intention not tae talk tae the police about the Folio, Delaney, but I need tae make sure … that I really need tae let them in on that part of my life. It’s a long, important history with many people that could be changed forever if I don’t handle it correctly. Does that make sense?”
“Not completely,” I said.
“Can you trust me a wee bit longer?” he asked.
I thought before I answered. What I suspected was that he just didn’t want the police to have the Folio, that he wanted it in his hands before they had a chance to get it into theirs. Greed. My idea didn’t fit with the man I was getting to know, but neither did his reasons for not talking to the police. There was more, something else, but he wasn’t going to tell me what it was yet.
“Yes,” I finally said.
“Very good. Let’s get tae work.”
The couch cushions weren’t all the way upturned, but they were off-kilter enough to know that they’d been looked under. Any drawers—in tables and the television entertainment center—were open, some of their contents sticking up awkwardly. The exposed surfaces were also strewn with items. And there was a small stack of pieces of torn paper by the front right foot of the couch. I gulped.
“Edwin, the pieces of paper?” I said.
“Not the Folio,” he said. “I saw them after I found Jenny. I didn’t check them all, but none of what I saw was part of it. Mostly magazine scraps, but I don’t understand why they’re there.”
I hurried to them and glanced through them quickly. Edwin had been correct; it seemed like a magazine ad for makeup had been torn up and piled together. I couldn’t imagine there was anything important among the scraps so I moved on.
The furniture reminded me of a somewhat modern Kansas country home. Big floral prints over comfortable cushions. The coffee and side tables were white wood that had been antiqued.
The living room was neither spacious nor cramped. The small patio deck and balcony were directly off the living room, and the sliding glass doors that led outside let lots of light inside. The kitchen was on the opposite side from the patio doors; it was a small square space. From my vantage point I assessed that you could stand in the middle of the kitchen and touch all the appliances and shelves just by turning in a circle. The counter space was decent though, with stools on this side that made for the only sit-down eating space.
The polished wood floor was covered in throw rugs that clearly weren’t where they were supposed to be.
“I’ll go back tae the bedroom,” Edwin said. “Why don’t you see if there’s anything tae see in here.”
Edwin disappeared down the hallway that I wasn’t sure whether or not I would traverse. I didn’t want to see a bloodstain. I took a left and started my search at the television entertainment center. The TV was a modern flat-screen just like the one in my hotel room had been.
I looked all around it, even lifting it a bit off its small stand, only to find a light layer of dust beneath.
The entertainment center was simply an old set of drawers. The drawers were already opened. I looked inside each one. Chances were pretty slim that I would find anything helpful, but it was worth a scrutinizing look. Each drawer had similar items throughout. CDs, DVDs, paperbacks, notebooks, magazines. Nothing was neat or organized, though I couldn’t tell if the mess had been there before the police search or if it was a result of it. I saw no sign of drugs or of drug paraphernalia, but if there had been any, the police would probably have taken it away.
I gave up on those drawers and tried the ones on the coffee table and the two tables on each side of the couch. The same sorts of things were in those too. Nothing interesting anywhere. I lifted cushions and I looked under furniture. I lifted throw rugs, and still nothing.
The kitchen was next. It didn’t look like Jenny was much of a cook; I found only one skillet, one pot, and a few wooden spoons that didn’t look to have been used at all. Four stacked plates and a number of mismatched mugs were lined up on the bottom shelf of the first cabinet. Again, nothing interesting.
But as I closed the door to that particular cabinet, a buzz of intuition froze me in place. I’d seen something, but I wasn’t sure exactly what it was. I opened the door again. There was nothing special about the four plates. They were stacked evenly and I felt no need to shift their positions.
I closed the door.
And then opened it again.
What was it? What was I seeing in this cabinet that was setting off my intuitive alarms?
Each mug was different. Some were decorated with different colors and patterns; some had sayings written on them. There was even one from the Edinburgh Castle. I moved its handle slightly so I could see the full picture.
My eyes moved over the rest of the mugs, and then stopped on one that was decorated with different colored squares that looked like confetti. I pulled it out of the cabinet and turned it over in my hands a few times. There was something about this one.…
And then it suddenly became clear. Though the mess throughout the drawers of the entertainment center in the living room had been random, there had been something that, in fact, did stand out.
I sat the mug on the counter, left the cabinet door opened, and went back to the drawers. In each of the six of them, I found some of what I was looking for. Little pieces of light purple paper that reminded me of the confetti on the cup, most of which at first glance seemed to have some handwriting on them. These were not part of the makeup ad that I’d found on the floor.
I gathered all that I could find. There were only about five pieces per drawer, but once I had them all in the palm of my hand it seemed like they belonged together, like they’d originally been one piece of paper that had had something written on it.
I would have liked to place the small pieces on a flat surface and try to put the puzzle together, but again my intuition buzzed. Maybe this was something I should do on my own. The piece of paper in my pocket beckoned again, but I ignored it. Maybe Edwin didn’t need to know about it or what I had found until I really knew if I’d found something. If the police had cleared the place, s
urely I didn’t need to ask for their permission to take the torn scraps.
I slipped them into my pocket with the note just as Edwin came back into the room, his face drawn and sad.
“Did you find anything?” he asked.
“Nothing. You?”
“Not one thing. I am certain that the Folio isn’t here.”
“I didn’t get a chance to look into every single space in the kitchen. Maybe we should do that together.”
I placed the confetti mug back onto its shelf and closed the door. Edwin didn’t seem to notice. Even if he’d discovered something that might have been important to Jenny’s murder, I doubted he would have truly seen it, if it would have made its way through his grief. However, I didn’t doubt that he was aware enough to have seen the Folio if it had been hiding in any of the places he’d searched.
Briefly I wondered if he had found something and hid it somewhere on himself or if he had deposited something somewhere on the premises. Perhaps I was being used as some sort of witness to an unclear alibi. I would have noticed the Folio on him though. It would be too big to slip into a pocket or under a shirt. I realized I’d never know if he left something somewhere, but if the police asked I’d have to say that he was out of my sight for some time.
Together we searched all the other nooks and crannies in the kitchen and found nothing more exciting than a unique can opener with an S-shaped handle that was still in the plastic package.
We left the flat very close to how we’d found it, except for the pieces of paper I’d hidden in my pocket. If they led to anything I’d tell Edwin. Or the police. Someone.
I watched as he closed the door and confirmed that it was locked. His face was still sad, genuinely so, I thought.
“I have another idea, Delaney,” he said as he turned and moved purposefully toward the neighbor’s door. He knocked a couple of quick taps and folded his hands behind his back as we waited.
Again, I expected a man in a robe to answer the door, but I wasn’t even close.
The Cracked Spine Page 12