“Don’t you think he would talk to me more easily than he would talk to you? He asked me to help him, Inspector Winters. He was afraid, he didn’t think the police would do right by him. I know you’ve helped him, but he doesn’t trust authority figures. That’s normal for conspiracy theorists.”
“Aye.”
“I don’t think he killed his great-nephew. If he could tell me something more specific that might help his case, I owe it to him to try to talk to him.”
“Look, Delaney, Norval isn’t well, but he’s not totally unwell either. He went through some things when he was a child that affected him terribly, but he’s capable of taking care of himself, maybe even of having a job. He’s still a person of interest in the murder of his nephew, though. I just can’t let you talk tae him.”
“You know I met Norval the day before the murder, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“And he wanted me to take over his work. I’m not going to do that, let me make that clear. However, what if I looked through his things more like the archivist that I am. I know how to search, catalogue, and file things. Your officer, Kari, was impressive, but I’m older and have more experience. I know how to do this sort of research. But there’s a lot there, and time is always of the essence. Maybe Norval could tell me exactly where to look, or exactly what more to look for. Maybe another conversation with him could help save time?”
I felt I owed this battle to Norval. I didn’t know if it was because of all the information I’d learned—about him and Gavin—or if it was simply the film with the tail. I’d become fully invested in helping him, but I wasn’t sure at what moment it had happened.
Inspector Winters thought another long moment. “I must be out of my mind, but you’re making good points, God help me. All right, you can have a few minutes with Norval.”
“Really? I mean, that’s great, thank you!”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. If he’s asleep I won’t wake him, but I’d like to try to talk to him tonight.”
“All right. I like him. I can’t help it. He’s a likeable person, and he’s not telling us everything. I think it’s worth you having a wee conversation with him tae see if you can find out.”
“Where should we go?”
“He’s in a hospital, guarded by an officer, but I’ll call him and tell him tae let you in.”
I cringed.
“He’s not being hurt, lass.”
I nodded and tried to look more confident than I felt. I wanted to do right by him. I couldn’t help it, I owed it to Norval and Gavin to try to figure out who the killer was.
Didn’t we all?
THIRTY-TWO
The smell of antiseptic didn’t override the other scents, the bad ones. I wished it had.
“Hospitals,” Tom said quietly.
“Sorry,” I said.
Tom had spent too much time in hospitals lately. His aunt suffered from dementia which, combined with her elderly years, had brought on other conditions requiring frequent emergency medical and long-term attention.
He blinked as if he was surprised he’d said it aloud. “Sorry.”
The worn linoleum floors and lathe-and-plaster walls were clean but old, harkening back to a time when mental health issues weren’t treated with compassion. The noises inside only added to the overall ambience, which forced a chill through my limbs. The yells and screams weren’t frequent but the few that we heard were enough to be distressful.
At the front desk, we’d been directed to the seventh floor, the “mental health” ward. Patients weren’t roaming the halls or being visibly mistreated in any way, but there were sounds coming from behind the closed doors that made me think people were struggling—physically, emotionally, or mentally. It was bothersome, and it was late—darkness visible through the random windows.
“Room 706,” I said as we continued down the hallway.
“Aye. Right here. Do you want me to come in?”
“Yes. Where’s the guard?”
Tom and I looked at the vacated chair next to the door.
“Taking a break?” Tom said.
I looked through the window in the door but could only see sheet-covered feet, and then pushed through. Tom followed behind.
“Lass?” Norval said when he noticed us. He was wide awake, staring at the wall, as far as I could tell. There was no television in the sparse room.
“Hi, Norval,” I said as we approached.
He scooted into a more upright position as his eyebrows came together. “Did ye find it?”
“Oh, Norval, I don’t know exactly what you wanted me to find,” I said as I took a last hurried step to his side.
Disappointment pulled at his mouth as his eyes darted back and forth between me and Tom.
“This is my fiancé, Tom,” I said, introducing them. “You can trust him. How are you feeling?”
He studied Tom a moment and then said, “Oh, I feel fine. They’re giving me some medicine that makes me much less nervous about everything, but I’m not so sure I should be takin’ it.”
“Being less nervous is good, isn’t it?”
“I dinnae ken. I feel muddy in the head. I think I’d rather be nervous.” He smiled sadly, and his dentures shifted slightly.
Tom and I nodded.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said.
“Good tae see ye too, lass.”
“Norval, I have questions, okay?”
He blinked as if it was okay for me to continue. I hoped to tread lightly, but still get the answers I needed.
“Norval, had you already seen Gavin’s body when you came to the bookshop to get me?” I asked.
He looked at me with surprise and then admiration. “Ye figured that out?”
I nodded. It had been the least difficult mystery to solve, but probably the most important answer I’d needed.
“Aye, lass, aye, but if I’d called the police, they would have arrested me on the spot! I would have been locked away.”
“Oh, Norval.” I put my hand on his. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through, but why? Because … of the knife?”
More admiration filled his eyes. “Aye, lass, that’s exactly why. When I saw Gavin, I rushed away, rushed back home and looked for my knife. I couldnae find it. If it was my knife that killed the lad, it wasnae with my hand, but I ken it would look that way. I thought if I had you with me, it would seem … better, and then I thought you would figure out what you needed tae find.”
“The knife. You wanted me to find your knife?”
“Aye, that’s it! See, if ye found it—if someone other than me found it—I would look less guilty, I suppose?”
He seemed so convinced of his logic. I didn’t want to argue that part. “No, I didn’t find a knife. The police didn’t find another one in your flat either. Did you ask them to look for one?”
Norval’s face fell. “No, lass. They would never have believed me without seeing it, and I couldnae find it when I went back home. I looked!”
“But you do have a knife … you did?”
“Aye.”
I put my hand on his arm. He would never trust the police. No amount of medication would change that.
“But Norval,” I said. “That doesn’t mean it was your knife that killed Gavin, or even if it was your knife, that doesn’t mean you were the killer. That knife … like the cards, there were many made.”
“Aye, but…”
“No, listen to me.” We locked eyes. “The police aren’t sure about the fingerprints on the knife that killed Gavin. Yours are there, but there’s some question, and that’s why you’re not in a jail cell. There are also some other prints on it too. The police are trying to figure out whose. Help me remember, who was in your flat that might have taken the knife from you? Think, Norval. Who was in your flat in the last … I don’t know, month or so?”
He blinked at me. “Other than you and Gavin, I don’t know.” He fell into thought again. “Oh! An author stopp
ed by, gave me a book and everything. Brodie Watson.”
“Norval, this is very important. Did Mr. Watson stop by within the last month or so?”
Norval closed his eyes. They shot open a moment later. “No! It was longer ago than that. In fact, I’m not sure exactly when, but months, maybe.”
“Okay,” I said, glad that maybe Brodie Watson hadn’t lied about the timing. “Now, try hard to remember this—when is the last time you remember seeing your knife?”
“Lass, I ken that exactly. It’s all I’ve thought about. It was there on the floor beside my couch a week before Gavin was killed. I saw it! I kicked it under, thinking it was dangerous and I should find a better place for it. I couldnae think of a better place at the time, so I just hid it under there. I searched and searched for it, but it wasnae there. I hoped you’d find it!”
“Okay, now, I need you to think even harder. After you saw the knife, after you kicked it under the couch, who else came into your home? Delivery people? Your landlord? Anyone else? Would Gavin have picked it up and taken it with him?”
Norval had been shaking his head as he looked at and listened to me. “I can’t think of one other person who came into my house, lass. Not one other. Gavin would not have taken it. He thought my things were silly.”
“Remember the cards I brought back to you the day we met?”
“Aye.”
“Gavin had those on him when he chased me down to talk. He picked them up. He could have picked up the knife.”
Norval’s eyebrows came together as he shook his head again. “No, I don’t think Gavin would have taken the knife.”
“Did he leave the cards with you later?”
“I … I don’t know. I dinnae remember.” Frustration pulled his voice tight.
“All right. It’s okay. I want you to keep thinking about any other visitors. I forget those details a lot, customers who came into the bookshop only briefly, phone numbers on my phone I’d forgotten I’d called or who they belong to. It’s only human to forget brief interactions. Just relax and keep thinking, even after we’re gone, okay?”
“All right.”
I took a deep breath, hoping to calm Norval down too. I wasn’t sure it worked, but I had more questions. “Norval, any chance Albert Winsom stopped by to see you?”
“Gracious no! I wouldnae let him in anyway.”
“Right. I understand. Can you remember the last time you saw Mr. Winsom?”
“I dinnae remember.”
I was curious about Winsom’s relationship with Millie, but it seemed such old news that I didn’t want to further bother Norval by bringing it up. Maybe later. I looked at Tom and then back at Norval.
“I think you have to come clean with the police. You have to tell them that you saw Gavin dead before you came to the bookshop. You need to tell them you were afraid and why, and that you couldn’t find your knife. They aren’t out to get you, Norval, they want to help you. I promise.” I hoped I was correct.
“Oh, lass, I don’t want tae do that.”
“I know, but it’s the right thing to do, and it might help find Gavin’s killer. That’s what we need to remember, okay?”
Frankly, I felt like a bully, pushing him to do things he wasn’t comfortable doing. I didn’t want to cause harm, but it had to be done.
“Norval,” I continued. “When we first met and you were talking to me about how important it was to find Nessie, you mentioned how important the truth was. It’s still important. The police need to know the truth about the knife, Norval. It’s important.”
A long moment later, Norval said, “Okay.”
“Good, good.” I smiled. “Would you tell me why you and Gavin were planning to meet with Nisa? You were having an argument, right?”
“Aye,” he said, though he’d quit looking at me.
“What was the argument about?”
“It’s not important.”
“I think it is.”
He looked at me and sighed. “I’d heard he was lying to his clients, lass, telling them he had a way tae pay them back.”
“By selling your things?”
“Aye.”
“It made you mad that he was going to take money for your research?”
“No, lass, when I’m gone, I’ll be gone. I was going tae give Gavin everything if I couldnae find someone to continue my work. I didn’t want money for my work, but I wouldnae cared what he did with it. I loved the lad. I was upset that he was telling his clients that he could get that much money. He couldnae have, lass. My work isn’t worth that much. I just wanted Gavin tae quit lying tae his clients. I wanted him tae come clean. I was going tae have Nisa convince him. He wouldnae go with me when he realized what I was up tae.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Norval knew his things weren’t worth enough to cover Gavin’s debts. But they were worth something.
“I, uh, took the films and the projector.”
“I wondered if ye’d be curious. Did ye watch them?”
“We only found two films that were developed. One was of you, your sisters, and your dad, right?”
“Aye,” he said with a genuine smile, wiping away the concern and fear that had been there only a moment ago. “I was a wee lad, but I still remember that day, or I’ve seen the film enough tae remember it.”
“The other one, though, with an older you and a young woman, and…”
“The tail?” he said matter-of-factly.
“Well, yes.”
“That was her, Nessie,” he said. “We saw her often those days. Or we saw bits and pieces of her. A tail, a nose, a snout, eyes. She showed herself much more back then. Then she started tae hide more. Finally, I thought she’d died, but I still saw bits of her once or twice a year. She’s auld. Verra auld.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tom’s eyebrows lift.
“There’s only one Nessie?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Norval said. “That’s part of my work. I’ve been trying tae understand if there’s one or two, or many. I just dinnae ken.”
“Was the girl with you Ava?”
“Aye, Ava McMasters. She was … a friend.”
“A girlfriend?”
“Aye. Maybe.” He looked up at the wall and his mouth made a firm line.
I didn’t tell him I’d been to Wikenton, or that I’d been inside Ava’s cottage.
“You two didn’t work out?” I said.
“No, lass.” Norval smiled sadly at me. “I wouldnae work out with anyone. I have a job tae do and I cannae put anyone before that job.”
I nodded and tried not to be too sad for him.
“Norval, any chance someone with a big, Southern American accent, with a big cowboy hat and boots stopped by your house?” I reached into the pocket where I’d put Angus’s card, but all I felt were the negatives.
“No, lass, no one like that,” Norval said.
I dug around in the pocket a moment more but couldn’t locate the card. I checked a couple of other pockets but gave up searching quickly. Norval would have remembered Angus, surely.
I tapped the outside of my jacket. “I also grabbed some photo negatives. Do you mind if I get them developed?”
“Not at all.” Norval smiled at me. “You’re going tae take over my work, aren’t you?”
Despite everything, I couldn’t help but laugh once. “I doubt it, Norval, but I’m mighty curious.”
Norval nodded. “You’ll see. Get the negatives developed and you’ll be hooked, I promise.”
“We’ll see.”
As Norval leaned his head back onto his pillow, it seemed we’d asked enough questions.
“We’ll let you rest,” I finally said.
Norval Fraser’s mind was not dulled to the point of uselessness. Was his obsession part of a mental illness, or would anyone who’d claimed to see what he’d seen, had a film of a tail, be obsessed? I still needed to research the authenticity of the film, but in viewing it I was convinced that we’d
seen something that might be proof of Nessie’s existence. I wasn’t ready to devote my life to finding her, but, then again, my father hadn’t allegedly been stolen by her. Who knew how I’d feel after I saw the pictures?
Tom and I said goodbye and turned to leave.
“I’ll talk tae the police, lass, right away. Send in the officer from outside if ye will.”
“We will. We’re your friends, Norval, and we hope you get out of here and get to go home soon,” I said.
“Aye.”
Tom and I made our way out. The officer was back from his break, surprised we’d made it by him. We sent him into Norval’s room with the promise that the man inside had some things to talk about.
I hoped we were right. We weren’t invited to stick around and listen.
However, unbeknownst to me was what I left behind. Something had escaped the pocket inside my jacket and fallen to the floor, under the corner of Norval’s bed, and that something would prove to break the case wide open.
Just not quite quickly enough.
THIRTY-THREE
Thank goodness my family and Artair had forged a fast bond. Any thoughts I had about imposing on my soon-to-be father-in-law deflated a little as he enthusiastically joined us for breakfast at the bookshop, bringing along a list of sights for them to see that day.
“He’s having more fun than they are,” Tom said to me as we sat at the end of the table. Our parents and Wyatt were looking over brochures Artair had handed out.
“I’ve been neglectful,” I said. Not to mention the dress debacle, but I was still too embarrassed to go into detail on that one with Tom.
“I don’t think you need tae worry. And, we’ll visit them in Kansas,” Tom said. “As often as you’d like.”
A surge of emotion worked its way to the spot behind my eyes. I blinked and swallowed hard. We’d had this conversation before and it had never made me emotional. Of course, the fact that my parents were there, and that they were there for my wedding, was bound to wreak a little havoc on my emotions.
The Loch Ness Papers Page 21
