by V. M. Burns
“But Peter didn’t believe it.”
“No. Detective Inspector Covington believed the young man was murdered.”
“Surely, after all of his years working for you and solving countless murders, he deserved the benefit of the doubt.” James stood up and paced. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t trust his instincts.”
“Who said I didn’t?”
James halted. He spun around and looked at his godfather. “What?”
“I never said I didn’t believe him. Covington’s a good lad. When it comes to murder . . . well, he knows his onions.”
“Then why? Why was he passed over for a promotion and banished to Buckinghamshire?”
Chief Inspector Buddington stood and looked out his window. “Politics. That’s what’s at the heart of this mess.” He turned and faced his godson. “The American ambassador, German ambassador, a member of Parliament, a marquis, and a duke. Oh, and that cousin of yours who happens also to be related to the king. Good gawd. The murder, if there really was one, and there’s no scientific evidence that there was, wasn’t even on British soil. The American Embassy is considered part of America, and I have no authority to investigate, even if I hadn’t been ordered by the highest authority to drop it.”
James was taken aback. “The highest authority?”
Hands behind his back, Detective Inspector Buddington’s eyebrows came together, and his mustache twitched. “King George the Sixth himself.”
“I’ve been out of the country; I didn’t realize he was back from . . . I thought he and the queen were on their way to New York.”
“Barely back in England a full day when he called me.” He flopped into a chair. “I’m not used to getting telephone calls from royalty. Fairly rattled my insides, that did.”
James’s lips twitched.
“Oh, you can laugh . . . you being a duke and all, you’re used to rubbing elbows with royalty, but I can tell you for a lowly copper, it’s a shock to get a call like that.”
“What did he say? I can’t believe the king would trouble himself with the death of a policeman.”
“He made it clear that we were to drop all talk of murder and we were not to start an official investigation. . . but he suggested that Detective Inspector Covington might be best able to serve his country from a more remote posting, like Buckinghamshire.”
James rubbed his chin. “I see. So, it was the king who suggested Buckinghamshire?”
“It was indeed. I didn’t even know there was an opening, but the next day a notice came across my desk with all of the paperwork that normally takes weeks to get completed, already approved, signed, and nothing left for me to do but dispatch young Covington.”
“I see; well, that changes things.”
“I wish you’d explain it to me. I’d like to know why I’m losing a good detective to a county with a population that’s an eighth the size of London with a fraction of the crime.”
James was silent for several moments. “I think King George may very well be right. It may be the best way for Peter to serve his country.” A smile came to his face. “In fact, the more I think about it, the more I agree. Your idea to post Detective Inspector Covington to Buckinghamshire is brilliant.”
“My idea? Why, I didn’t . . . this isn’t—”
“Oh, yes, if anyone asks, it was your idea, and I have to say, it’s bloody brilliant. It may just be the most brilliant idea ever.” James leaped from his seat and hurried to the door. “Thanks, Budgy. Thanks for everything.”
Chapter 12
When I awoke to my bed shaking, it felt like déjà vu. “Seriously, what is it now?”
“It’s time to get up. How can you sleep when we have so much to do today?”
That woke me up. “What do you mean? What is there to do?”
“We’ve got the bookstore, and then we need to go down to city hall. I have a few things I want to say to the mayor. Then, there’s the bail hearing for Detective Pitt.” Nana Jo whipped the covers back. “Come on, shake a leg.”
I stared at the spot where my grandmother had been and thought of a host of things to say, but none of them were fit to be uttered at—I glanced at my alarm clock—six o’clock in the morning. I flopped back onto my pillow and muttered, “You have got to be kidding me.”
Unfortunately, she wasn’t kidding. “Samantha, get up and get dressed.”
I wanted to rebel, but with my family, resistance was futile. I kicked the covers off my legs and forced myself to stand. Gravity made the call of nature sing louder, so I hurried to answer its demand and perform my morning routine.
I dressed and took care of the poodles before I sat down to coffee.
“Why are you so happy?” Nana Jo said.
“What?”
“Something’s different about you. Did Frank finally pop the question or something?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled, and tried to hide my face with my coffee mug, but I’m a terrible liar. I could feel the heat rising up my neck, and between that, my inability to make eye contact, and Nana Jo’s uncanny ability to read me like the River Bend Tribune, I knew she would figure it out.
“He did propose.” She smiled. “Wait, please don’t tell me you turned him down.”
I took a deep breath and gave up on hiding behind my coffee and put down my mug. “I didn’t decline. I just asked for a little more time.” I braced myself for the tongue-lashing I felt coming.
“Good.” She poured the cream in her coffee.
“Wait, you’re not going to scold me?”
“Me? Scold? Never.”
“Ha!”
“Marriage isn’t easy. In fact, it’s downright hard work. Sure, it has its advantages.” She smiled. “But there’s a lot of compromises. It’s a constant balance of give and take. Trust me. There’s a good reason why when I told Freddie he could move into my villa that I only go home for long weekends. When you’ve been on your own for any amount of time, you get accustomed to your freedom.”
“That’s it exactly. It’s not that I don’t love Frank. I do. It’s just, I’ve gotten accustomed to being on my own now. At first, it was hard, and I missed Leon so much it literally hurt. I still miss him, but I have also enjoyed being here.” I spread my arms to indicate the entire space. “I enjoy my new life. I even love going to the casino with you and the girls. Marriage will change things. I’ll have to make a lot of adjustments. We both will, but am I being selfish?”
“Not at all. Marriage is a big step. You won’t be as free as you are now. There will have to be compromises on both sides. Marriage is not a state that should be entered into lightly, no matter what age or stage you’re in. I think you’re being smart.”
I was pleasantly surprised that Nana Jo wasn’t giving me a hard time.
We talked a bit longer and then headed downtown.
City Hall wasn’t located in the same building as the courthouse and the police station. It was actually in an old brick building that screamed 1970s architecture and was located on Wall Street, which aside from the name had nothing in common with New York City’s famous financial district.
The building housed the fire department and several other small government agencies. Since the building had only two stories, we bypassed the elevator that looked older than me and opted for the stairs.
The mayor’s office took up one entire side of the building. We opened a door with gold letters on the glass and walked inside. A young woman sat behind the desk. She looked to be in her early twenties and was grinning into the face of a young man who was leaning against a file cabinet. He was wearing the uniform of a delivery service. The woman glanced in our direction but continued her conversation—bad move.
We stood in front of the desk for a full minute while the woman flirted.
Nana Jo glanced around and spotted the office with the mayor’s name on it. She turned and marched toward the door.
That got the girl’s attention. “Hey, where do you think
you’re going? You can’t just—”
However, she was wrong. Nana Jo could, and she did. She flung open the door and marched inside.
The mayor was seated behind the desk on the telephone. He stared up into Nana Jo’s face. “What’s the meaning of this? Who are you?”
“I’m a taxpayer, just one of the people who pay your salary and the salary of that lazy waste of time.” She pointed at the secretary. “What kind of office are you running where citizens are kept waiting while your secretary ignores them to flirt with delivery drivers?”
The girl blushed and stammered, “I wasn’t flirting . . . I was merely—”
The mayor waved away her protest. He spoke into the phone and said, “I’ll call you back later.” He glanced up at the girl. “That’ll be all, Marla.”
Marla looked as though she wanted to claw Nana Jo’s eyes out, but she received a stare back from my grandmother that said, Try me. Marla must have thought better of it. She turned and walked out, giving the door a firm slam behind her.
The mayor smiled at Nana Jo. “Now, how may I help you?”
“You can tell me what you think you’re doing by trying to make Detective Pitt into your scapegoat, that’s what.”
Mayor Carpenter shuffled papers on his desk. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“For a politician, you sure are a bad liar.” Nana Jo leaned across the desk. “My name is Josephine Thomas, and I was a schoolteacher for . . . almost as many years as you’ve been alive. I taught Detective Pitt, and he’s a lot of things, but he isn’t a killer.”
“That’s for the courts to decide.”
“Yes, it is, and with my granddaughter’s help, Detective Pitt will have his time in court. He’ll get a chance to tell how he was sent like a vestal virgin on a Roman altar to deflect attention away from governmental corruption.”
“Madam, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Nana Jo started to speak, but suddenly all the wind left her sails and she flopped into the chair. “I feel . . . faint.”
Mayor Carpenter’s face looked stricken. He stood up. “Are you having a heart attack? Do I need to call an ambulance?” He reached for the phone.
“No . . . I think I just need some water. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to get me a glass of water. I thought I saw a water fountain in the hallway.”
For a large man, the mayor was able to move surprisingly fast. “Of course.” He hurried out of the office.
As soon as he was gone, Nana Jo hopped up and started rifling through the papers on his desk.
I stared at my grandmother. “What on earth are you doing?”
“I’m snooping through these papers looking for evidence.” She pulled out her phone and started snapping photos.
“You can’t do that. It’s illegal . . . I think. What if he comes back and catches you?”
“Get by the door and be my lookout.”
I hurried to the door. “This is crazy. You’re going to get both of us put in cells right next to Detective Pitt.” I saw a large shadow approach the door. “They’re coming.”
Nana Jo rushed back to her seat, just making it before the door opened and the mayor hurried back in with a small paper cup of water. He ran to Nana Jo. “You do look flushed. I think I should call the paramedics to come and have a look.”
Nana Jo did look flushed, but it was because of her mad dash to get seated before the mayor returned. Her purse was on the desk. She leaned forward and fumbled inside. She managed to dump most of the contents onto the mayor’s desk. “Oh, dear me. Forgive me. I was just trying to get my pills.” She pulled out a small pill container that I knew contained a vitamin and some dietary supplements.
She opened the container, took out a pill that looked a lot like Fred Flintstone, and popped it in her mouth. She took several deep breaths.
Mayor Carpenter hovered around her, staring as though waiting for her to keel over.
“I feel much better now. Thank you.” She gulped back the last of the water. “I know I shouldn’t get worked up, especially at my age, but when I think of poor Detective Pitt stuck in that prison cell . . . well, it makes my heart race.”
Mayor Carpenter looked as though he could have used a heart pill. “Madam, I can assure you that Detective Pitt isn’t being sacrificed for me or anyone else. He will get the same fair trial that is given to all citizens of this country.”
“Great. I’m glad to hear it.” Nana Jo grabbed her purse. “Come along, Sam. We’ve got to run if we want to make it down to the courthouse.” She all but pulled me from the office.
The delivery driver was gone, but the secretary was apparently still a bit salty about being embarrassed in front of her boss. She filed her nails and glared at Nana Jo, who looked as though she wanted to leap over the desk and beat the girl to a pulp.
Once outside, Nana Jo was back to her usual self. I had to run to catch up to her.
At the car, she was practically giddy. “That was stimulating.”
“That was wrong. What did you find?”
She smiled and pulled out her cell phone. “Looks like our mayor is planning on skipping the country. I found a receipt for a two-way ticket to Portugal, a brochure for some retreat, and it looks like he’s been moving money from one account to another. He’s probably been siphoning money from the city.”
“Is Portugal a country without extradition agreements with the U.S.?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t have time to read through them carefully, so I took as many pictures as I could. I’ll look over everything more carefully later.” She swiped through the pictures she had taken. “Did you notice how when he heard that I was there about Detective Pitt he tried to hide those papers? That’s what gave me the idea.”
“I wish you’d give me a heads up before you feign a heart attack.” I pulled out of the parking lot. “Or you’re going to give me one.”
The trip to the mayor’s office took longer than we expected. I dropped Nana Jo off at the courthouse and then went back to open the bookstore. Christopher and Zaq were both interviewing for jobs at the same technology company. Christopher was going for a job in marketing, while Zaq was trying to get into programming. The company was headquartered in Chicago, so if they got the jobs they would just be a couple of hours away. They were coming to help me in the store after lunch.
I glanced at the time and said a quick prayer for Jillian, who would be auditioning for the Bolshoi summer program in just an hour. When I pulled into my garage, I sent a text message to let her know that regardless of what happened, I was proud of her for following her dreams.
When I got inside, Dawson had already opened the store for business.
“What are you doing here?” I said. “Shouldn’t you be studying? Or taking a test?”
“I’ve crammed as much as I can. I can’t look at another chemical symbol. It’s to the point when I close my eyes, all I see is the periodic table. I need to get my mind off chemistry.”
“Do you want to go upstairs and bake? I know that always helps you relax.”
“I’ve already baked four dozen cookies, and I even decided to try my hand at bread. It’s rising in a ball on the counter.” He rubbed his eyes, which looked red and tired. “I think I just need a couple of hours of shelving books, helping customers . . . doing something other than studying. When you were teaching, I remember you telling us that our brains were like sponges.”
I nodded.
“Well, I feel like mine is so full that if I try to soak up anything else, it’s just going to run out.”
“Then you definitely need a break.”
We worked in the bookstore in perfect harmony for the entire morning. Dawson replenished the shelves and the treats, while I mostly took care of customers. He wasn’t a big fan of mysteries, so he wasn’t great at helping people who didn’t know what they wanted. However, over time he’d learned some of the basics of mysteries, which helped in a pinch.
At noon, Christophe
r and Zaq stopped by, both professing that they thought their interviews went well, but these were highly coveted jobs and the company received thousands of applicants every year.
I ordered lunch and left money to pay and then hurried back to the courthouse. I’d told Nana Jo to text me when Detective Pitt was called up and I hadn’t received a message, so I took that as a good sign.
At the courthouse, I was elated when I passed through security without a hitch. I was used to going to the police station side of the building and felt awkward going to the courthouse, but I did it. Inside, I stood for a moment and looked around until I spotted Nana Jo. She stood and waved at me as though she were trying to land a plane.
I squeezed down the aisle and plopped into the seat next to Nana Jo. I leaned close and whispered, “What did I miss?”
“Absolutely nothing. They haven’t called Stinky Pitt’s name yet. Jenna is back behind one of those doors.” She flung her hand around to indicate the doors that were around the front of the court. “You’d think this would be exciting. Jenna said it wasn’t a trial, so I wasn’t to expect Perry Mason, but I was at least expecting Judge Judy. It’s taking all my strength to stay awake.”
The judge was a black woman with long braids, which she wore pulled back into a bun. She had on a black robe and sat in the position of prominence, raised up above everyone else.
I leaned toward Nana Jo and whispered, “I wonder if Ruby Mae is related to her.”
“She is. I sent Ruby Mae a text message. Pictures aren’t allowed.” She pointed to a sign on the wall. “She said she was a great-niece by marriage.”
I shook my head. “That woman has more relatives than anyone on the planet.”
I pulled out my notebook, expecting that unlike Nana Jo, maybe there would be something I could use in one of my books. Unfortunately, Nana Jo had been right. The proceedings were, indeed, quite dull. Before long, I too found my attention drifting and my eyelids felt like lead. Before I realized what I was doing, I wandered off to the British countryside.
