The Stolen Letter

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The Stolen Letter Page 16

by Paige Shelton


  Inspector Buchanan stuck the piece of paper she held into her pocket and pulled out a notebook and pen. “Name?”

  After I gave her Elias’s and Aggie’s names and numbers, she reached back into her pocket for the piece of paper and handed it to me. “Henry called these people. They were part of the committee spearheading the shutting down of the bookshop. He told them he wanted to talk to them about the vote, but he was killed before he could. Based upon what Mary has told me, I do believe he wanted to cancel the vote, though for the life of me I can’t understand how you made such an impression on him that he would change his mind.”

  “I look like his wife?” I said.

  “That you do. Anyway, for the record, I’ve vetted the people on the list. I am sure they weren’t responsible for Henry’s murder. I wouldn’t send you to talk to possible killers.”

  “Do you have any idea who killed Henry?”

  “I’m afraid I do,” she said.

  “Who?” I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

  Inspector Buchanan just sent us a sad smile before she said goodbye, turned, and left the bookshop.

  Rosie, Hector, and I blinked at the door as it shut after her.

  “Do ye think she really kens the killer?” Rosie asked.

  “I have no idea.” I looked at Rosie. “Where’s Edwin?”

  “Och, he’s still in Glasgow.”

  “What is he doing in Glasgow?”

  “Yer guess is as good as mine.”

  My guess was that he was removing himself from easy police access, but I didn’t say that out loud.

  “Did Inspector Buchanan ask about him?”

  “No.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I said. “But I’d like to talk to Edwin.”

  “Aye, so … who’s on the list?” Rosie asked.

  I unfolded and looked at the paper.

  “Three women,” I said. “Bella Montrose, Simone Lazar, and Monika Hidasi.”

  “I dinnae ken any of them.”

  “I have addresses. That’s good.”

  “How did it go with Mary?”

  “She claimed she was trying to call me to let me know that Henry was going to try to cancel the vote. After he met us that night and liked us so much and I looked so much like Mary, he was going to try to call it off. I think Henry ended up liking all of us, and that was enough.”

  “That’s a good thing isnae it? And it confirms what Inspector Buchanan just said.”

  “But then he was killed, and now there’s probably nothing we can do to stop the vote.” I looked at the piece of paper. “Unless, I can convince other councilors, I guess.”

  “I think that’s what Inspector Buchanan was thinking.” Rosie sighed. “I havenae found the paperwork. I havenae found the Burgess Ticket, but now I truly believe everything will be fine.”

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “Rosie, is there any chance Edwin has the current queen’s number? I’m beginning to think a royal decree is our only hope.”

  Rosie smiled. “I dinnae think it would be easy, but if anyone can do it, ye can, lass.”

  I tried to call Edwin but he didn’t answer. I wasn’t surprised. I tapped my finger on my mouth as I paced the front of the store. Hector let me hold him and scratch his ears as Rosie helped some customers. Once it was just us in the shop again she reached for Hector.

  I gave him up reluctantly and the crook of my arm felt much lonelier without him.

  “Go talk tae those women, lass. Ye’re of no use tae me here. Hector can only do so much. I’ll tell Edwin tae ring ye the second I hear from him.”

  I could take a bus. In fact, I might even be able to walk to see them with little problem. But, I needed some extra input and I knew exactly whom I wanted to talk to. I called Elias.

  * * *

  “I can’t figure out what’s going on,” I said to Elias.

  “Aye,” Elias said thoughtfully. “These women might help.”

  “I might need you the rest of the day.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” Elias smiled as he kept his attention forward, out the windshield, toward the traffic.

  “Not really, but I do appreciate it.”

  In fact, there were actual days that Elias operated his taxi like a real taxi; driving people places and taking fare for such trips. I liked to keep that in mind and not bother him too much. In the past I’d offered him money for his time and fuel, but he’d made it clear that I was never to do that again.

  “There. There it is,” I said. “Montrose Photography.”

  “Do you want me tae come in with ye?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Will do.” Elias puffed slightly. Though I hadn’t meant to assign him the role of my protector, he’d taken it on himself and seemed to like it. His wife, Aggie, had told me he enjoyed the role, giving him something to do other than help her clean the “guesthooses” and drive the taxicab. I wasn’t afraid of Bella Montrose, Edinburgh City Councilor, but since I was pretty sure she wasn’t a killer, it would be okay to bring him along. Neither of us would be in harm’s way.

  He parked the taxi not far from the front door. No one greeted us as we went inside, but I was immediately stopped short by the stunning photographs adorning the walls and filling the two tables at the front of the small space. A wall separated the gallery from what I guessed were offices behind it.

  The room was a tourist’s to-do list, or maybe a wish list. There were so many places to see, and if you couldn’t see them in person, these stunning photographs were almost as much fun.

  “How does the light do that?” I said as I looked at one of the pictures on the wall, a shot of the Edinburgh castle. I’d seen many pictures of the castle and I worked right below it, but I’d never seen it captured so beautifully. “Is that real or photoshopped?”

  “I have no idea what ye’re talking about, lass, but that’s a beautiful picture, I agree.”

  As I heard a door open somewhere in the back, I tried to glance over the rest of the pictures.

  “Hi, can I help you?” The woman approached. She was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, her long hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.

  “Might you be Bella Montrose?” I said.

  “Yes,” she said suspiciously. I wondered if she rarely got customers or if she knew I was coming to talk to her.

  “I’m Delaney Nichols. I work at The Cracked Spine. This is my friend, Elias.”

  “Ah, I thought someone from there might come see me.”

  “Yer pictures are stunning,” Elias said as they shook hands.

  “Thank you.” The ghost of a smile pulled at her lips but only briefly.

  “Ms. Montrose, we’re sorry to bother you, but a police inspector told me I should talk to you about the vote to close the bookshop, that you are a councilor and that Henry talked to you the night before he was killed.”

  She sighed. “He did.”

  I hesitated. I wasn’t exactly sure where to go from there. I jumped in. “I’m trying to figure out how the bookshop was originally targeted? I’m trying to understand because there’s never been an inspection. Can you tell me how all this happened?”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Delaney, I’ve seen the inspection.”

  “You have? Do you have a copy?”

  “No, I don’t. But I have seen it and it is valid.”

  “Is there any way to get a copy?”

  “Not at the moment.” She frowned. “Delaney, Henry called me the night before he was killed. He said he wanted to meet for breakfast and discuss the vote regarding The Cracked Spine. When the police were here earlier, they told me they think he wanted to cancel the vote. He didn’t come out and say that to me, but I could tell he was … concerned about something.”

  “Meet for breakfast?” I said.

  “Aye, he was killed on the way.”

  Gut punch. “I’m so sorry.”

  Sh
e cleared her throat. “Thank you. Yes, there was something else he wanted to tell us, something else he wanted us to know. That’s why we were having breakfast.”

  I pulled out the note from my pocket and looked at it. “Were Simone Lazar and Monika Hidasi invited too?”

  “Yes, we were part of the original committee. The four of us and Henry’s nephew-in-law, Mikey Wooster. Simone, Monika, and I felt the explosion but none of us could have guessed that Henry was the victim. We called him once he was late and he didn’t answer his mobile, but even then we still didn’t suspect he’d been blown up in a car bomb!”

  I swallowed but forged ahead, hoping I wasn’t treading too insensitively. “Was Mikey also invited to the breakfast?”

  “I don’t know. He wasn’t there, with the three of us as we waited.”

  He’d been at the dinner the night before. Maybe Henry had talked to him after Rosie, Tom, and I left.

  I said, “Ms. Montrose, can you remember when The Cracked Spine first came up in council discussions?”

  She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it, and, yes, I think I do remember. It wasn’t Henry who brought it up first at all.”

  “Who was it then?” I fully expected her to say that it was Mikey Wooster, though I wasn’t exactly sure why. It just seemed like that answer would somehow fit.

  “It was someone from outside the council. He came to a meeting and made a small presentation. It wasn’t scheduled, but he showed up and was given the floor. He talked about the city’s building issues and he wanted us to pay attention to the problems. He used The Cracked Spine as an example. I don’t know how Henry took it all over and made it his, but shortly after that, closing The Cracked Spine as well as asking for old Burgess Tickets became council discussions.”

  “What was his name?”

  “His name is Lyle Mercado. He’s the head of the business-licensing division of the city.”

  “I know who he is,” I said. “Can you tell me any more about that?”

  “I wish I could,” she said. “I’m afraid I wasn’t paying close attention. I’ve heard strange things about him and I didn’t like the man. I didn’t think anyone was really listening to him. I apologize. It’s my job to pay attention, but I didn’t give him much credence. I didn’t think anything would come of his visit, but Henry trudged forward.”

  “Strange things?” I said.

  “Yes, he’s one of those past-lives people. He’s also an amateur hypnotist. He’s a weird combination of things I don’t believe in.”

  “Do you know who Mr. Mercado thought he once was?” I asked, wondering if he and Mary had spent a different time together. “In a past life?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t. I’m sorry.”

  “Do you know Henry’s wife?”

  “Of course, I do, and I think she’s weird too, though I never would have said that to Henry.”

  “Did it ever seem that Henry and Mary had a bad marriage?”

  “No, not at all. Henry didn’t talk about his wife much but when he did, it was with only loving words. He was loyal to her, as far as I could tell. I told as much to the police.”

  “Who would want Henry dead?” Yes, I wanted to make sure the bookshop didn’t close, but even in my one-track mind, finding Henry’s killer did seem important.

  “Not everyone liked him, but none of us are universally liked. We have opinions, we have city issues we all want to, need to, get taken care of.”

  “Would Lyle Mercado be upset that Henry wanted the vote canceled?”

  “I don’t have any idea. Delaney, I think you’re thinking Henry was killed because of the bookshop issue, but there were other things he was working on too. The police know.”

  “The Burgess Tickets?”

  “Yes, I admitted to the police that it seemed Henry was trying to keep the bookshop issue on the down low, but everyone had heard about the Burgess Tickets. In fact, none of us had heard from anyone from The Cracked Spine, as far as I know. At one point I was concerned that the vote would happen almost secretly—there are ways to hide things like that—but I didn’t give it much thought. I’m busy, like everyone else. I’m sorry. But there are lots of things we work on, government salaries, budgets. I never saw or heard of anyone angry at Henry, but it’s more than feasible that someone was angry enough to … well, unreasonably angry, I guess.”

  “Will the vote regarding the bookshop still take place?”

  “I think so, but I will vote against closing the bookshop because I am guessing that’s what Henry wanted. At least it should be postponed until we understand more. Simone and Monika probably will vote the same way, but I can’t speak for the rest of the council. I will try to make the case that Henry had potentially changed his mind. But, you have to understand, we all saw the inspection report. There are dangers with your buildings.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “We will fix whatever needs fixing. I promise.”

  “I’ll make sure I let everyone know. No promises, Delaney, but I think it’s only right to try to slow everything down until we understand what’s going on.”

  More hope bubbles. I wanted to cry in relief. She was on our team. I didn’t cry though; instead, I thanked her again. I almost pulled her into a hug, but fortunately I caught myself. She might have been okay with it, but I’m glad I held back.

  Finally, we expressed our condolences again and left Bella Montrose and her extraordinary photographs.

  “What do you think?” Elias said when he got into the taxi.

  “I think she’s wrong. I think Henry Stewart was killed because he changed his mind and didn’t want the bookshop closed,” I said.

  “Really? That’s not what I expected you tae say, not really what I expected would get your attention.”

  I nodded. I felt oddly sure about this, even if I didn’t know why. “But we’re missing the real reason behind closing the bookshop, Elias. There’s something else there. I don’t know how I’m going to figure it out, but I’m going to, and when I do, not only will we remain open for business, I’ll find a killer too. I promise you.”

  “Aye. Lead the way.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  I couldn’t let go of what Bella had told us. With the new information, Lyle seemed much shiftier than I’d first thought, and much more involved than he’d appeared. I asked Elias to make our next stop the business-licensing office.

  “Is Lyle Mercado available?” I asked one of the people behind the counter. I didn’t remember this woman being there when Edwin and I had visited. She was the only one there today.

  “Who’s asking?” she said.

  “Delaney and Elias. I work with Edwin MacAlister.”

  Elias puffed up next to me.

  “One minute.”

  I noticed her name tag said Susan. Slowly, Susan made her way through the doorway that led to Lyle’s office. Elias and I watched her and then shared a frown.

  “Goodness, she’s not happy tae be working today,” he said.

  There were no other customers in the office. It was Saturday and I’d been surprised to find the office open.

  “She’s not fond of the Saturday shift, I guess.”

  Susan reappeared quickly. “He’s not here. Must have left.”

  “Are you sure?” I said.

  “Aye,” she said flatly.

  “Okay. Thank you.” I turned to leave but changed my mind. An image of Dina being upset came to me, and I remembered I hadn’t seen where she’d gone before I tried to follow her inside. I’d thought the loo, but now that I suspected she somehow knew Lyle Mercado, I wondered. I turned around again.

  “Susan, are business licenses public information? I mean, if I were to ask you if a certain business had a valid license, could you tell me yes or no and how long before it expires?”

  “Aye, it’s public information.”

  “How about a place called Art Studio in Cowgate?” I said.

  “One minute.” She moved to a computer and defied the earlier impression
she’d made. Her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. “Aye, it’s got five months before it expires.”

  “How about Dina’s Place? It’s in Cowgate too.”

  She typed more. “Aye, it’s not set to expire for eight months.”

  “Do you make note of when fees are paid late?”

  She squinted. “I can see if there are late fees included, but I’m not sure that’s public information.”

  “Okay, well, I guess I’d just like to know if there are late fees attached to Dina’s Place, maybe if she paid her fees recently, if you can tell me.”

  “Um. Well.” she looked at the screen and then back up at me. “No late fees. The last payment was received on time.”

  “Do you ever just not mark the fees, let customers not pay them?” I smiled. “You know, if they promise to never, ever do it again.”

  “No, there’s no system set up to remove them. It’s all done on the computer. We can’t override anything.”

  “I see. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  As Elias and I left, I explained how I’d seen Dina upset allegedly about being late with her payment.

  “She was lying but I don’t know why,” I said.

  “Maybe it’s something as simple as she was embarrassed about being upset. Her uncle had just been killed.”

  “Maybe. Or she was coming to talk to Lyle Mercado.”

  “About what?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” Was I onto something, a connection? If I was, it was a vague notion that left me feeling more like I was missing something than that I was onto something. But I felt like I needed to keep searching for that missing part.

  We got back into the taxi.

  “Ready for our next stop?” I said.

  “Aye.”

  * * *

  Brigid McBride wasn’t happy to see me, but that was okay.

  “Hello,” she said succinctly as Elias and I came through the front door of the small newspaper office.

  Last time I had been there, the place had been buzzing with activity. Today, it was just Brigid and a man with thick glasses peering at a computer screen. I didn’t think he noticed that Elias and I had come in.

 

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