The Loch Ness Papers

Home > Other > The Loch Ness Papers > Page 20
The Loch Ness Papers Page 20

by Paige Shelton


  “I guess,” Edwin said, not laughing at my joke.

  “You don’t trust him?”

  “Not even a wee bit,” Edwin said. “I suspect we’ll learn more about him as time goes on, but, no, I don’t trust him. He’s too … much.”

  “He wouldn’t take the book back. I think that’s a good thing.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, lass, let’s get back tae the bookshop,” Edwin said with a quick glance back inside the restaurant. Vanessa wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but he’d see her later, I was sure.

  “She’s amazing,” I said.

  “Aye, she is,” Edwin said with a happy smile.

  I wondered if there was another wedding in our near future.

  THIRTY

  As Edwin steered us back toward the bookshop, my phone buzzed.

  “Hey, Tom, what’s up? Uh-huh. Really? That sounds wonderful! Great. We’ll be there in just a few minutes.” I ended the call and looked at Edwin. “They’re getting in the spirit. We should have given them more details. It sounds like they think it’s a full-length movie, and it looks like we’ve got a full house. Rosie even had Hamlet run out for popcorn and something called Cola Cubes. Candy?”

  Edwin laughed. “Aye. A chewy, fruity candy that no adult should ever consume, but it sounds like they’re having a good time. I’m glad to know your family. We all are.”

  “They’re glad to know you too. I hadn’t planned on this, but I’m plotting to try to get them to move here.”

  “Let me know what I can do tae help,” Edwin said.

  “Will do.”

  Though it was verging on chilly, the night was beautiful, with a rare cloudless sky. As Edwin drove down darker streets, I could peer up and see some stars.

  I’d taken the envelope with the negatives out of my bag and put it in the inside pocket of my jacket, with Angus’s business card. It was a light jacket, one I could keep on at all times, particularly in Scotland, and the pocket was an inside breast pocket like in men’s suit coats. This way, the negatives and the card were with me, on me, in fact, and the photos weren’t being bent. I’d told Tom about the pocket’s contents but asked him not to broadcast that I had them only because I wanted to see the films before determining if I should develop someone else’s photographs. He asked why I kept the card there too. I didn’t have an answer other than it felt like the right thing to do.

  “Rosie?” Edwin asked as we went through the front door. She was standing on a step stool and tacking a sheet over the front window.

  “Ah, ye’re here,” she said around the tacks she held with her lips. She took a couple and stuck them into the sheet and the window frame. “We’re going tae be watching films of Nessie herself. I dinnae want the world tae see us.”

  I looked at Edwin. “They’re just in the spirit.”

  “Be careful up there,” he said to Rosie.

  “Ayeways.”

  “Always,” Hamlet translated as he hurried by, carrying some plastic cups and a pitcher of lemonade. “She wouldn’t let me do it.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Edwin said.

  My parents and Artair were placing chairs in the small space around the back table. Tom was moving books. The projector and another sheet that would serve as the screen had been set up in the back. I silently wondered where the sheets had come from, but I hadn’t even known about Rosie’s scrapbook until recently.

  Elias and Aggie were busy too and didn’t notice Edwin and me. Hector did, though. Through the crowd, he spotted me and trotted over. I picked him up and we managed a brief snuggle or two.

  Everyone I cared about most was in the same room, again. I could get used to this.

  “Lass, I havnae found the wicked woman who has your dress. I’m not giving up my search, though. I’ll find her,” Aggie said as she set a book on the front desk.

  “Thank you.” I stepped toward her but had to veer so I wouldn’t run into Wyatt walking by. “Don’t worry about it too much. I appreciate everything you’re doing.”

  “Och, not a problem.”

  “What do you think of all this Nessie stuff?”

  “Nessie is as real as you or I, there’s no doubt.”

  “You’ve seen her?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure, but I know some who have without a doubt and I believe them. Elias told me he showed you the place by the castle.” She leaned closer to me. “I think he’s seen her, but he just doesnae want tae tell.”

  “Really?”

  “Aye!” Her eyes lit. “This is an exciting evening. Who knows what we’ll discover.”

  We were set up only a few moments later; all of us with small bowls filled with popcorn and candy. Hamlet loaded the first film onto the machine. Tom sat next to me and we managed a brief kiss and hello.

  Hamlet said, “There are only two developed films. The other three containers held unused reels. And, I don’t think we have an audio mechanism on the projector,” he said as he inspected it. “There’s a line of audio that’s been recorded along the film, but I don’t think we’ll hear anything. We’ll have tae read lips.”

  “Some of us actually remember silent films,” Edwin said in the mostly darkened shop, the only light from the bright bulb on the projector. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Reminds me of an elementary school film,” my dad said quietly when the machine whirred to life.

  I’d watched videos via TVs with VCRs when I was in school, but I remembered seeing some projectors stored in a back room at the elementary school I’d gone to. It had been the same school both my parents had attended.

  Immediately, the film took us back to a time when little boys wore woolen shorts and little girls wore dresses to play in. We surmised that the young boy we saw was Norval and the two little girls, older than Norval, were his sisters, Millie and Jean. I saw no resemblance to the adult version of Norval, but it seemed a logical guess. The person behind the camera might have been their mother, since their father did pop into the picture.

  From first indications, this was a happy family, but it could have all been an act for the camera.

  They were standing on a shore of Loch Ness. It was easy to determine the location because at one point the camera angled to the right just enough that the remains of the castle came into the frame. The three children and the adult man played tag, smiling and laughing too big. I studied the older Fraser. He was a handsome man with slicked-back black hair, a tall, thin frame, and a face that verged on funny-looking, with big eyes and a crooked nose, but stopped short enough to be appealing. I saw neither Gavin nor Norval in the man on the screen.

  We learned nothing about Nessie from the first film, but it was interesting to note that we now knew what Leopold Fraser looked like. Rosie stood to flip on the overhead light so Hamlet could see to thread the next one.

  “That was pretty close to the same spot you took us to by the castle,” I said to Elias.

  “Really?” my mom said.

  “Yeah, again sorry.”

  Mom nodded absently; she hadn’t meant to make me feel guilty this time.

  “Verra close,” Elias said. “Do ye suppose there’s anything tae make of that?”

  “I wouldn’t know what,” I said.

  “But that spot’s a distance from where the wee lad Norval lived. That’s not Wikenton.”

  “How far away?” Tom asked.

  “A good three miles,” Elias said.

  “And his father was right outside their house in Wikenton when Norval was told about Nessie, or so he said.” In my mind I worked through the locations. Maybe it wasn’t so strange that Elias had driven us to that spot. You could see the castle well from there, and it was only partially private. Maybe lots of people over the years enjoyed that “hidden” place.

  As if reading my mind, Tom leaned to my ear. “I’ve been there. I think many have.”

  “I wondered.”

  “Next film is ready,” Hamlet said.

  Rosie
flipped the switch and our attention turned back to the sheet screen.

  It was the same location; the Loch Ness shore with the castle ruins in the background. This time, though, there were only two people in the picture. Norval was one. He was a teenager, close to twenty, probably, and this time I could see a resemblance to the old man I’d come to know. It was something in the set of his eyes, the shape of his head, and the angle of his shoulders. I was certain it was him. I couldn’t tell if the woman with him was Millie or his other sister, Jean. The two in the frame looked nothing alike.

  They moved together, sliding their arms around each other. The woman stood up onto her tiptoes and kissed Norval on the cheek. He put his hand to the spot and smiled sheepishly. The woman smiled and shrugged at the camera.

  “Not a sister,” I said aloud. She looked familiar. It didn’t take me long to realize we were seeing Ava McMasters Keaton. In the film she was about the same age as in the picture on her cottage wall. I didn’t announce her identity, and I didn’t pull out my phone to check the picture.

  Besides, as we were all looking at the adorable couple, who seemed to either be in love or headed in that direction, we gasped in awe, and were then suddenly struck silent.

  Behind the couple, though grainy with time and old film, we clearly saw something the world would probably want to see too: a tail. It swished up out of the water and then slapped back down. It might have been twenty feet long but it was hard to tell. It had a pointed tip, and two spines jutting out from it. The couple seemed to hear the splash as the tail slapped the water just before it disappeared under again. They turned and watched the water for a second. But it was how they turned back around that was the most interesting part.

  First, they looked at each other and said something as they both nodded. Neither of them seemed surprised in the least. They faced the camera and Norval spoke. We couldn’t hear a thing, but his lips were easy to read: “Did you get that, Millie?” and then both he and the woman he was next to said, “Good,” before they both walked toward the camera and then out of the frame. That was the end of the film.

  “Hamlet, back that up and play it again,” Edwin said. The rest of us made mumbles of agreement.

  He played it back three times; it was the same each time.

  Finally, when Rosie flipped on the light, Aggie was the first to speak. “We all saw the tail, aye?”

  We all did.

  “Do ye think it was … it was her?” she asked.

  There was no way to be sure. Time, imagination, and old film were all involved. There was also the behavior of the couple. Did it look like they were trying to set something up? It was hard to tell.

  “Lass, it’s … this cannae be,” Artair said, a small amount of distress in his voice.

  That was the first thing I’d heard him say about Nessie. Tom stood and moved over to his father.

  “Delaney, you came to Scotland and found Nessie?” Mom said. Dad nodded.

  “I wouldnae be the least bit surprised if she’s the one tae break open the story,” Rosie added.

  “Me either,” Tom said.

  But I was looking at Artair. “Are you okay?”

  Now everyone was looking at Artair.

  Artair’s frown turned into a wince.

  “Oh. Well, I think this could be something verra big,” he said as he looked around at us. “Look, I’m not into conspiracies, but if this is real—and, I’m not sure it is, lass. Perhaps it’s a prank of some sort—but if it is real, it simply cannot just be thrown out tae the world. We all know that, don’t we? There are proper channels and authorities. I don’t know who or where they would be, but I think we need tae take care, and work on authentication first.”

  We all blinked at him as reality fell back into place. Of course, he was right.

  I thought about the negatives in my pocket. I would find a way to get them developed, some secret way. Edwin or Hamlet would know someone.

  I suddenly understood something I couldn’t have comprehended beforehand. Some things just needed to remain secrets. I wasn’t sure yet if this was one, but Artair was correct, we would definitely need to take proper steps before unleashing this information on the world.

  Luckily, I thought this was the perfect group for keeping something to themselves. The saying about a secret remaining a secret if only one person knew it might not apply here. Rosie was the most gossipy of all of us, but even she’d kept a few secrets over the years.

  “You’re right, Artair.” I looked around. “We will keep this to ourselves? For now at least?”

  They all must have come to the same conclusion because the agreement was quick, unanimous, and firm.

  We’d only needed about half an hour to view and discuss the films. When we were done and everyone fell into a thoughtful haze of sorts, Tom and I said we’d handle the cleanup. No one argued, probably thinking the bride and groom-to-be wanted a little alone time together.

  Once everyone else left and we’d cleaned up and removed and folded the sheets, Tom and I sat side by side on top of the front desk. We left the lights off, so no one could readily notice us sitting there looking out at Grassmarket and the nighttime activity. There was always something going on in the square, even if it was just people walking through.

  “Four more days,” Tom said. “I’m glad we’re almost there.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  Tom laughed. “Are you sure?”

  I looked at him. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m just distracted, and I’m very excited for us to be married. I might be wearing jeans to the ceremony, by the way.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you wear,” he said so quickly and easily that I was sure he meant it.

  “Just so you know, I’ll be pretty disappointed if you’re not in your kilt.”

  He laughed. “I know.” He kissed the top of my head. “If the murder isn’t solved by Saturday, do you want tae postpone the honeymoon?”

  I looked up at him, one side of his face lit by the glow of a streetlight. “You’d do that?”

  “Of course. We’ve got the rest of our lives together. If you would have a more relaxing, enjoyable time, let’s postpone it a wee bit.”

  “No, I don’t want to postpone our honeymoon, but I think it’s pretty amazing and wonderful that you asked.”

  “All right. Now, what about those negatives you found at Norval’s? Do you want me to see if Artair can find someone to develop them?”

  “That’s a great idea, but … I think he was correct. Let’s make sure we’re doing everything properly here. So, not yet.”

  “Sounds good.” Tom paused and then leaned his shoulder into mine. “What is it?”

  “I have no idea what Norval wanted me to look for, Tom. While that film and the negative are shocking and interesting, there’s nothing that I’ve found that would clear Norval of murder.”

  “But he’s not under arrest anymore, right?”

  “For now. He’s being detained, but I can’t help but think I’ve failed him. I have no idea what he wanted me to find.”

  “Delaney, he’s not in his right mind, and he’s getting help, it sounds like.”

  “I just don’t know. Is there any chance you’d drive me somewhere?”

  “Anywhere. What’s going on?”

  “I need to … see a man about a monster.”

  “Lead the way.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  “Lass?” the receiving officer said. He made a big deal of looking at his wrist as if there were a watch there; there wasn’t. “A wee bit late, isn’t it?”

  It was almost ten.

  “A little, yes. Is Inspector Winters in?” I didn’t expect him to be there. I expected to be turned away at the door, at which point Tom and I would leave and go home. But I had to try.

  “Aye. One moment,” the officer said.

  “Oh. Good,” I said and looked at Tom. He shrugged and smiled. He was surprised too.

  “Delaney? Tom?” Inspector Winters came around the wall
and removed a pair of reading glasses I’d never seen him wear before. He was also in plain clothes—jeans and a sweatshirt. I’d seen him once before in plain clothes, on Christmas Day in a cemetery.

  “Hi,” I said. I looked around. The only other officer was the receiving officer, but that still felt like too many. “Can we talk in the interview room?”

  “Certainly.”

  I caught the eye roll from the receiving officer, but I was pretty sure Inspector Winters sent him back something stern.

  “What’s up?” Inspector Winters asked once we were closed inside the windowless interview room.

  “A couple of things,” I began. “First of all, I looked through Norval’s flat and didn’t find anything that might prove his innocence, or who might have killed Gavin.”

  “I’m sorry tae hear that, but thank you,” Inspector Winters said as if he wasn’t surprised. “I appreciate you looking.”

  “Okay.” I looked at Tom and then back at the inspector. “You said you were getting help for Norval.”

  “Aye. Medical help.”

  “Does that mean he’s still in a hospital?”

  “Aye.” Inspector Winters caught himself and put up his hand in a halt. “Delaney, you can’t visit him.”

  I nodded, but leaned my arms onto the table and said, “Well, why not? I mean, he’s no longer under arrest and I’m just a friend.”

  Inspector Winters’ eyebrows came together. “You want to question him about something.”

  “I might ask a question, but I’d like to talk to him, just see how he’s doing. Maybe there’s something in his apartment that will clear his name, or point to the real killer, that we couldn’t find. Maybe he’d tell me more specifics. You could come with me.”

  I really hoped I could talk to Norval without the police there, but I’d make do if I had to.

  “He’s doing all right. He’s getting medication.”

  “Good. Have you asked him if there’s something inside his apartment that would clear him? How about if Gavin threatened to steal his papers from him and sell them to pay off some debts?”

  “Aye.” Inspector Winters paused. “And he didn’t give us an idea of something that would clear him, no matter how many times we asked. He also said that Gavin never once threatened tae take his papers and sell them. He doesn’t tell us much.”

 

‹ Prev