The Eulalie Park Mysteries Box Set 1

by Fiona Snyckers

  “What is it with you boys and your mac and cheese? Nobody else in the dining room is having it.”

  “It’s our favorite lunch,” Mark explained. “Our mother used to make it for us when we got home from school. This is her recipe that the kitchen staff make especially for us. It’s the best. Accept no substitutes.” He smiled his boyish smile.

  As she sat perched on her Vespa in the parking lot, forking mac and cheese into her mouth, she had to admit that it was pretty good.

  Eulalie remembered from her own school days that two o’clock was a good time to catch a stay-at-home mother. She wouldn’t be rushing to pick the kids up yet, but pick-up time was close enough that she wasn’t likely to be out doing anything else.

  As she followed the Coast Road from the industrial estate towards Edward Heights, Eulalie noticed the clouds scudding in from the south east. She could feel the change in air pressure in her bones and in her ears.

  “Storm’s coming.” The wind snatched the words from her lips as it slowly gained strength.

  Cyclones weren’t a regular feature of Prince William Island life, but they weren’t unheard of either. Bad ones tended to hit about once every five years. Even then, the damage to property was minimal. The island was protected by the large land mass of Madagascar to the south east and by its own natural coral reef that had a calming effect on waves before they reached the island.

  Still, this was going to be a big one. It would truly be a dark and stormy night for her assignation this evening. That was fine. The sound of rain and thunder would cover her entry from the roof and give her more darkness to work with.

  Gusting eddies of wind chased her up Cliff Road and towards Edward Heights. She stopped at the driveway leading to Richard and Jane’s house and contemplated sending a text or phoning to announce her presence. Then she decided against it. Jane Egger was a clever woman, cleverer than most people realized. Eulalie didn’t want to give her the chance to start getting her story in order.

  She parked her scooter at the top of the driveway and rang the doorbell.

  The lack of surprise on Jane’s face when she opened the door was an indication that she had somehow been expecting this.

  “Did Richard tell you I paid him a visit over lunch?” she asked.

  “He did indeed. And I saw you coming up the drive from the kitchen window.”

  “May I come in and talk to you? I feel as though our last conversation was cut short.”

  Jane looked at her watch. “I have some time before I have to pick up the kids, so, sure. Why not? Would you like coffee? I’m making for myself.”

  “That would be good, thanks. I need it to wake me up after the lunch of mac and cheese I just had at Eggerton.”

  Jane laughed. “The Egger boys do love their mother’s mac and cheese. I’m never sure whether I’m lucky or unlucky not to have met her. She sounds like a hard act to follow.”

  Jane led Eulalie into the bright, comfortable kitchen and made them each a café au lait.

  “So, what did you want to ask me?”

  “The last time we spoke, I was starting to ask you about Emma’s pregnancy when you seemed to become agitated and tried to shut down the conversation.”

  Eulalie saw it happening again. Jane’s face was closing down, and her posture was becoming defensive. But this time, she wasn’t taking no for an answer. If Jane didn’t want to speak to her, Eulalie would keep poking at her until she did.

  “They say that the gender of a baby is determined by the father, but I’ve known many women who just keep having boy babies no matter who the father is. I think Emma was one of those. It must have been insufferable to hear her going on and on about it.”

  Jane made an indistinguishable noise.

  Eulalie took out her iPad and pretended to scroll through it. “Did you hear that the autopsy confirmed it? Emma was right – her baby was a boy. Yes, here it is. Sex of foetus: M. That stands for male. I wonder what they would have called him. Maybe Mark after his father, or Josef after his uncle and grandf…”

  “Enough!” Jane almost shouted the word. “It’s not right.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “It’s not right that Emma should have that too. She had everything she ever went after. Two beautiful boys at a prestigious boarding school. A ton of friends and acquaintances. That gorgeous face and figure. And then she got the youngest Egger brother too - the fun, good-looking one who travels first-class three times a year and goes to glamorous dinners every night of the week. There was always one set of rules for Mark, and another for the rest of us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Take the Eggerton private jet. Do you know how many times I’ve been up in that plane? Once, that’s how many. Once in my entire life. Richard and I have been married for twelve years, and I’ve been up in that plane once. Do you know how many times Emma has been up in it? Four times. She and Mark had only been married a couple of months. Whenever I want us to use the plane, I always get told, ‘Oh, no, it’s far too expensive. It must only be used for business flights. The fuel costs a fortune. It’s much cheaper just to fly commercial. Do you know when Mark and Emma last used it? Two weeks ago, to fly to St. Michael’s Cay to watch Emma’s son play basketball. Does that sound like a business flight to you? I mean, the ferry tickets are five dollars each. It’s ridiculous, and nobody says a thing.”

  “What about your husband?”

  “Richard?” She laughed. “Not likely. He’s always been the peacemaker in the family. Typical middle child. He tries to keep the peace between the brothers and their father. And besides, he has to work with Mark every day. He can’t afford to create an unpleasant atmosphere. I understand that he’s in a difficult position, but why does he always have to be the one who is being careful and trying to mend fences? Why can’t he be the troublemaker for once?”

  If Eulalie was wondering what any of this had to do with Emma’s baby, it must have shown on her face because Jane got straight back to the point.

  “The thing is, Emma already had everything. The only thing I had that was a little bit special was being the mother of the boy. My Otto was Herr Eggerton. But no, Emma had to have that too. She had to go and get pregnant behind Mark’s back and announce to the whole world that she was carrying a boy. The one special thing I had, and she had to take it away from me.”

  There was a pause while she stared out the window at the landscaped garden beyond. Then she turned back to Eulalie.

  “Was it really a boy, Emma’s baby? Was it really?”

  “I have no idea.” Eulalie switched off her iPad. “The autopsy report doesn’t say.”

  “You tricked me,” said Jane. “You tricked me into spilling my guts about this whole pregnancy thing.”

  “Maybe. But we still haven’t talked about the real issue. What would the financial implications have been for Otto – for you and Otto – if Emma had lived and carried a male baby to term?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the moment Otto is the sole heir to the Egger fortune. When his father and uncles die, he gets everything. When he has finished his education, he will be brought into the company and groomed to become its CEO and Chairman of the Board. How would he have felt knowing that he would have to split that all in half with a male cousin?”

  Jane laughed. “You think Otto murdered Emma? My little Otto? The shortest kid in his grade – the one who can barely do a pushup. You think he managed to tip a woman like Emma over that balcony?”

  “No, I don’t think that. I’m just exploring all leads. What about you? As an Egger widow you would receive an adequate stipend for the rest of your life, but as the mother of the Eggerton heir your position would be very different.”

  If Eulalie had been expecting to disconcert Jane, she was disappointed. Her smile got wider and wider as Eulalie talked.

  “You obviously don’t know how the Egger mind works, Ms Park. You have no idea how deeply Eggerton is bred into their bones. Allow me to enl
ighten you. Do you know what Otto said to me the other day? My own son? He told me I wasn’t qualified to comment on something because I’m not a ‘blood Egger’. How do you like that? He’s only eleven and he already knows the difference between an Egger by marriage and an Egger by blood. If you think he would break any rules for my sake when he inherits the company one day, you are sadly mistaken. He even talks down to his cousins and sisters because they are girls who won’t inherit the company. So, you can put that idea right out of your head. Otto, bless his heart, is an Egger through and through.”

  It was time for Jane to pick her children up from school, so she walked Eulalie to the door. Just before they parted, Eulalie asked whether she still considered Emma to be unnaturally lucky now that she was dead at forty-one.

  “Yes, I keep speaking of her as if she’s alive, don’t I? I suppose my brain hasn’t fully processed the fact that she’s gone forever. Obviously, I feel desperately sorry for her two boys. I just hope their dad can give them the stability they need right now. If I could have Emma and her baby and all her annoying ways alive again just so those boys could have their mother back, I would. Like a shot.”

  She looked up at the sky that was still an intense blue, but with purple clouds gathering in the south.

  “There’s a storm coming. It looks like it will only hit tonight. We’d better make sure we are all under cover by then.”

  Eulalie watched her get into her Range Rover and drive off in the direction of the school. She pointed her Vespa down towards town and set off at a moderate speed, with the wind clutching and grasping at her clothes.

  Who, she wondered, would not wish for Emma to be miraculously brought back to life? Who would not snap their fingers and give two young boys their mother back?

  Chapter 22

  The wind continued to gather speed and power as the afternoon faded into twilight. Clouds that had gathered like a purple bruise on the southern horizon now swelled to angry dark thunderheads.

  Lafayette Boulevard was as festive as ever, with its strings of fairy lights looping between trees and its sidewalk café culture in full swing. Prince William Island knew how to batten down the hatches at a moment’s notice, but until that moment came, they would continue to enjoy the warm evening air and island atmosphere.

  Eulalie knew that her grandmother was probably wondering when she was going to pop in for dinner, and Chief Macgregor was expecting her to get in touch. But she didn’t feel like being sociable this evening. She wanted to withdraw into her own mind – into the place where riddles were solved, and mysteries unraveled. What was behind the anonymous phone call and the invitation to Pier 19? Did someone want to frighten her, intimidate her, hurt her? Did they want to warn her off the investigation or mislead her? Perhaps it was all of the above.

  Eulalie knew that Fleur believed the sensible thing to do would be to tell Chief Macgregor about the phone-call and have him, and some of his officers, accompany her to the docks that evening. But she also knew that whoever was behind it would be on the lookout for any indication of a police presence. They would disappear at the first sign of a cop, and she would never know who had been behind it.

  She also knew that her only hope of getting into the warehouse undetected relied on her being completely alone. She had the greatest respect for Chief Macgregor, but he couldn’t move through the city like she could. Someone was planning to get the drop on her tonight, and she had every intention of getting the drop on them first. Being alone was an essential part of that. Even tipping off Chief Macgregor could backfire on her because he wouldn’t be able to resist entering the warehouse before she was ready for him.

  When all this was over, she could think about taking that next step with him and what that would mean. But until then, she was on her own.

  Eulalie grabbed a ham-and-salad sub from a food cart and called it dinner. She was still feeling the effects of Mama Egger’s mac and cheese from earlier in the day. Then she went home and got changed for the evening.

  She put on the outfit she always wore in the forest when she went home to her village. It was stretchy and form-fitting and allowed total freedom of movement. It was also black, which let her move around confidently at night. Along with a pair of boots that gave her feet and ankles a full range of movement and had a non-slip sole, the outfit made her feel prepared for anything.

  Her blow-dried hair was already starting to turn wild thanks to the wind and the humidity. Her mane of hair was a weak spot both in the forest and in a fight. She pinned it up into a tight bun and pulled a beanie down over her head.

  As she stepped out into Bonaparte Avenue, she saw what she had been too preoccupied to realize up until then. The storm had hit Prince William Island. The leading edge was reaching Queen’s Town now. Lightning streaked across the sky and thunder rattled the windows of nearby buildings. Fat drops of rain were exploding on the sidewalk next to her. Fortunately, her outfit was made of a technical fabric that repelled water. The drops ran off her without soaking in.

  Eulalie took her Vespa down to the docks and parked three blocks away from Pier 19.

  She had made a careful study of the area using Google Maps, Google Earth and Google Street View. She had also done a ride-around of the warehouses and office buildings on her way back from her interview with Jane. She knew exactly where to go.

  Gentrification had come to the Queen’s Town docks about ten years earlier. The neighborhood known as Dockside was now among the most desirable multiuse real estate in the city. However, the upgrade hadn’t reached as far as Pier 19. There, one could still see the derelict dockland area that had developed when shipping started to decline after the Second World War. Warehouses and office buildings had stood empty for years, taken over by rats and criminals. Eulalie wondered which she was likely to meet today.

  She looked up at a shuttered building. The door was locked against intruders, and a roll-down metal cage reinforced it. This told Eulalie that the building had been purchased by developers who were attempting to keep it secure while they raised the funds to transform it into something profitable.

  They had done a good job on the door, but not on the broken windows on either side of it. These were about ten feet off the ground and rather small, so they were probably considered safe.

  Eulalie approached the wall at a running jump and grabbed the bottom sill with her fingertips. She felt the crunch of glass through her rubber gloves. Her feet scrabbled for purchase against the wall, and then she was pulling her upper body up through the small opening and into the old building.

  She stood still for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the gloom.

  She could see why this would be a developer’s dream – there were wide-planked wooden floors, high ceilings with graceful moldings, and beautifully proportioned rooms. You just had to look past the dust and the tumbledown walls and ceilings, not to mention the smell of garbage and damp. But the potential was there.

  When she could get her bearings, Eulalie headed for the stairs. She didn’t want to risk using a torch in here because the moving light would be visible from the street. She picked her way up five flights of a Victorian service staircase. There were parts where the stairs were completely caved in, but she jumped lightly over them and continued on her way.

  The roof was her target. Eulalie hauled herself up through a trapdoor onto the roof of the building precisely four minutes after she had entered it. The wind nearly knocked her off her feet. Rain fell heavily and steadily, punctuated by gusts of wind that drove it sideways into her face.

  For the first time, she started to think of the weather as an adversary rather than a helper. Yes, it would conceal the noise of her rooftop entry, but if it prevented her from ever reaching that rooftop she would have a serious problem.

  The rain had made the rooftop as slippery as an ice-rink, and the winds must be reaching gale force by now. She had to lean into the wind to stop herself from being blown over. It was time to rethink her strategy.

  Her
original plan had been to jump the gap from the building she was on now to a neighboring warehouse that stood next to Pier 19. A narrow canal of water separated the two buildings, leaving a gap of six feet for her to clear. Normally this would have been no problem, but tonight she would be trying to jump into the teeth of the gale. There was every chance that the wind would pluck her up and fling her five stories down into the canal. She didn’t fancy her chances of surviving that.

  Eulalie walked the perimeter of the rooftop, considering her options.

  There was another building she could try, but the jump would be more challenging. Its rooftop was only slightly lower than the one she was on now. The two buildings were separated by a narrow alleyway. Just measuring it by eye, she thought it was about ten feet. It was a jump she was confident of making in normal circumstances, but the rain-slick surfaces and crumbling parapets were a challenge. Only the wind was working in her favor. It was blowing steadily from a south-easterly direction, and would give her a much-needed assist to make the jump.

  She checked the time. Another eight minutes had passed that she hadn’t bargained for. It was now or never.

  She chose a solid part of the parapet as her jumping-off point and paced out her runup on the roof, removing loose obstacles from her path.

  It was just like the long jump at school, she told herself. You paced out your runup. You made sure you jumped off your strong leg. You went high rather than straight, and you flung your upper body ahead of your legs.

  Her heart pounded unpleasantly as she began her runup. Her feet left the parapet and she was flying through the air, not looking down at the drop below her. She felt a gust of wind pick her up and shove her onto the next building. Then she was tucking and rolling and staggering to her feet.

  She stood up and took a few deep breaths. Her hands were shaking from the adrenalin, and that could be dangerous.