The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3

by Alexie Aaron

  Angie walked over and pulled three cups from the drain board, added tea bags and poured the water. The woman finished the braid she was making with the dough. Washed her hands and accepted the cup Angie handed her.

  “I’m Mary, and you are?”

  “Angie Bathgate.”

  She nodded her head. “Over by the Two-way River.”

  “Cin Fin-Lathen.”

  “From Florida.” She smiled at my shock. “Dorothy said you’d be along.”

  I returned her smile. “Then you know why I’m here.”

  “Sure. Dorothy’s kind of a nervous ninny, but maybe this will calm her fears.” Mary got up and walked over to a chest in the corner. She lifted the lid and the odor of dried herbs filled the kitchen. Mary pulled out a black velvet bag, peaked inside and nodded. “Here it is. The Kernow Daa , which means the Cornish morning.” She pulled out a heavy silver chain that held a large rough-cut blue-white crystal. The middle of the crystal was polished and caught the light, sending it shooting around the room in rainbow beams.

  “That is amazing. It looks heavy.”

  “It is.” Mary started to put it down on the table, stopped and picked it back up. “Dear me, where is my mind this morning. I can’t put it down. I already blessed it. You will have to wear it.”

  “Pardon? It isn’t mine to wear.”

  Mary took a deep breath and studied me for a moment. She angled her head and explained, “It needs to be in contact with a courageous heart to hold the blessing.”

  “And how does this pertain to me?” I asked weakly.

  “You have a courageous heart. You must wear it till you give it to Dorothy.”

  “I won’t get through the metal detector at the airport.”

  “Just show them the necklace. You’ll get through.”

  “What if they make me take it off?”

  “They won’t.”

  “You’re so sure of that?”

  “Oh yes, it has traveled before.”

  “Speaking of traveling, I saw your broom outside.”

  Mary laughed and clapped her hands together. “One must be modern when one can.

  Angie sniffed. I looked over and she tapped her watch.

  “Fine, I’ll wear it. Even in the shower.” I handed her the envelope and she counted out the money. She returned some money to the envelope.

  “More than we agreed upon.”

  “I am sure she wants you to have it.”

  “Wouldn’t be ethical. Here, lift your hair.”

  I lifted my curls and she snapped the catch together. The chain’s weigh was considerable but bearable. I stood up. Mary looked at me sideways.

  “Blessed be. You will be fine. The Kernow Daa will keep you from harm. Oh, and tell your daughter. No wait let me write it down.” She wrote something down on a piece of brown paper bag and tied it with a waxy string. “Here this is for Noelle.”

  “Did Dorothy tell you about my daughter?”

  “Not that I remember. Now back to my bread. Safe journey, Cin Fin-Lathen.”

  We walked out of the house and got in the car. Once we were back on the A30 Angie and I started laughing. It was a nervous laugh but a good one.

  “I thought I was going to wet myself when she put that necklace around your throat. You should have seen your face.”

  “Very funny, now I have to wear this till I get home.”

  “So, you’re going to follow the instructions. Well, I am impressed.”

  “I’m going to wear this as a heavy reminder. Maybe next time I get asked to do something, I will say no.”

  “Lesson learned.” Angie pulled the lorry over to the side of the road and into the White Sands Hostel parking lot. “Come on you have to taste this soup.”

  I was going to mention that we just ate, but there was a curious growl in my stomach. I followed Angie into a small bar that fronted the youth hostel. We sat ourselves down and Angie called out her order to a young woman with purple hair.

  “Marie, two tomato soups and how about a slab of your best wheat bread.”

  Marie nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

  “I always stop here when I’m in the area. Marie makes the best tomato soup, and her bread makes mine look like store bought.”

  I looked around at the pleasant room. It was painted in purple and green. Plants grew from terracotta pots and ivies crawled along the purple paneling. There was a large glass display cabinet full of bric-a-brac, camping equipment and some unusual topped canes sprouted out of a tin bucket at its side. I walked over and pressed my face against the glass to get a better look.

  “Can I help you?”

  I turned around to see the owner of the deep voice, a tall angular man dressed in blue-gray work clothes.

  “I was intrigued by the gear in here.”

  “It’s all for sale.”

  “Really?” I turned back around and rescanned the shelves. A Swiss Army folding knife twinkled in the corner.

  “Some of our tenants trade for room and brew.”

  “Like a pawn shop?”

  “No, more of a barter – I doubt any of them will return for this stuff. Most of this was from frustrated campers, people who were over their heads when it came to enjoying Cornwall’s unique terrain and weather.”

  “I hear ya. Weekend strollers.”

  “City people mostly. Did you want to see something closer?”

  “The Swiss Army set,” I said, tapping the glass near its location.

  He opened the case, retrieved my prize and handed it over. I carefully flipped open each metal object. A small knife, nail file, collapsible scissors, and bottle opener resided on one side. The other held common and Philips screwdrivers, another small knife and a cork screw.

  “I could really use most of these. How much?”

  “Five pounds sound fair?”

  I did a quick conversion in my head and all but blurted, “More than fair.”

  “The knives aren’t worth much though.” He pointed to one that had a nick in it. “I think someone thought they could cut hard wood with it.” He pulled open a drawer at the bottom and pulled out a cloth bundle that he started to unroll.”

  “Now this,” he held up a large knife with a notched blade, “will cut brambles and maybe a small tree. You have to use it like this: grab the wood firm and saw.”

  I nodded mesmerized by his very maleness, and before I knew it I had bought the knife, the Swiss pocket set and a brass-headed cane. Walking back to our table I vowed to get my hormones checked. They seemed to be taking over.

  “You seem to have bought out the store.”

  “Uh – oh this? Actually,” I placed the folding knife on the table, “I could use this. I mean, I can’t take this stuff back with me on the plane, but...I can’t explain it.” I took an awkward pause and then continued, “The cane was just pretty. Who would suspect it could crack the skulls of most woodland creatures!”

  Angie started to laugh and patted my chair seat. “Sit down Alan Quartermain.”

  “Who?”

  “He was the Indiana Jones of my time.”

  “Oh.” I sat down and put the knives in my purse.

  Marie brought our soup. The bowl was squeezed between two large slabs of bread on the serving plate. I took a taste of the soup. Angie was right; this was the best tomato soup. Spicy, rich. What else was in that soup?

  “Parsnips?” I asked Angie.

  “Maybe, horseradish. Try the bread.”

  Okay, now either I was famished or my whole body had been grown in order to eat this meal because I enjoyed every mouthful. Angie finished before me and sat in silence patiently waiting.

  “This was great. What’s my split?”

  “It’s on me. A thank you for tilling Dorothy Comstock’s asparagus under.”

  “No problem.”

  We left the hostel and drove straight to Bathgate. I got out of the lorry and Angie drove on into the barn. I sat down on the porch and waited for her. When she didn’t c
ome out of the barn I grabbed my bag and got up to wander over there. Before I got off the porch I heard a scuffle and a strangled plea from Angie. I reached into my purse and grabbed the knife I had bought at the hostel. I held the knife blade-down as I charged into the building. I pulled up short as I found Angie struggling with the tan man from the airport. He was strong-arming her into a car that had been hidden on the far side of the barn.

  “Let her go,” I said evenly.

  He turned towards me and laughed.

  I lifted the knife and held it business side out. “Back away and let her go.”

  “Pretty big knife for a nosey American bitch,” he snarled.

  While he was looking at me, Angie had turned herself around and kicked the tan man. He turned around to backhand Angie. I made my move and quickly came up behind him. I pulled the knife lightly across his neck to let him know I was there. A thin line of blood oozed out, as he stood frozen.

  “Angie, get in the house and call Robert.” I waited until I heard the door slam to ease my grip. “Get the hell out of here!” I pushed him into his car and turned and ran like hell to the house. Angie let me in and we cowered behind the door as we watched the tan man’s car tear out of the driveway.

  Angie was calm enough to remember to copy down the car make and plate number and was giving the information to the Chief Superintendent while I went into the bathroom and threw up.

  Chapter Eleven

  I walked out into the kitchen to face Chief Superintendent Robert and Constable Cayne. Cayne was busy with his little notebook, and Robert was drinking tea. He got to his feet when he noticed me in the doorway.

  “I’m sorry, I only left her for a moment.” I walked in and sat down. I had just realized I was still holding the knife so I set it on the table.

  “Cin, you have nothing to beat your back about. You saved our Angie. Do you feel up to a couple of questions?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Cayne, are you ready?” He waited for Cayne to look up. “Good. Angie told me she had just got out of the truck when she was grabbed from behind and dragged over to the car. How did you know she was in trouble?”

  I gave him a quick rundown of events. I added, “I’m sorry I didn’t subdue him, but I knew when I wrapped my arm around him that he was armed. He had a shoulder holster on, and it was filled. He outweighed me. It wouldn’t have taken much to move me off him. When Angie kicked him, I had the element of surprise, but I could hear the gears working. It wouldn’t be long before he had the upper hand. I figured the house would be a safer place to defend both of us, so I ran for it.”

  Robert’s eyes narrowed. “You mentioned he was the tan man from the airport. What did you mean by that?”

  I explained about meeting the tan man on the plane and his odd behavior afterwards.

  “It wasn’t until the coach pulled out of Plymouth that I heard how Bobby had exaggerated my worth, and that I was supposedly a great detective from the States come to solve the arson at the farm. I can tell you I was quite surprised.”

  “I understand where yer goin with this.” Robert stroked his chin. “Maybe this ‘tan man’ was watching for you because of the rumors already started out here in Cornwall.” He looked briefly at Constable Cayne. “We are a chatty bunch out here. But how was it that you happened to have that knife? Do you often go out on the town armed to the teeth?”

  “It was handy. I just bought it at the hostel. I don’t know if you do DNA here, but there’s some of the tan man’s blood on the knife.” I pushed the weapon over to him. He just looked at it.

  “There is more DNA on your shoe, Cin.”

  I looked down and, yes, there was a large amount of blood on my shoe. The blood from his throat must have dripped down on my shoe. “Bloody hell, another pair of shoes.” I took off my shoe and handed it to Cayne, who already had a plastic bag handy.

  It was at that point the girls walked through the door. Noelle took one look at me holding a bloody tennis shoe and the knife on the table and burst out. “What did you do?”

  “Gentlemen, my daughter Noelle Lathen and Paisley Price.”

  Paisley’s eyes grew big when she saw the knife. “Wicked blade, Cin.”

  “Noelle, this is Chief Superintendent Robert...”

  “Browning,” he supplied.

  “Like the poet?” Noelle smiled.

  “It’s a common name here abouts.” Robert reddened.

  “And this is Constable Cayne,” I continued.

  “So what did ya do to get the constables on yer case?” Paz asked me.

  I just waved my hand and put my head down on the table.

  “Your mother just saved my life again.” Angie stood behind me stroking my hair. “She snuck up behind my captor and cut his throat.”

  “Oh Mother!” Noelle paled and leaned against the counter for support.

  “Where’s the body?” Paz was halfway to the door.

  “Miles away by now,” I murmured.

  “You didn’t kill him?”

  “No.”

  “You let him get away?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now that was a bit dumb.”

  “Paz, leave my mother alone. I’m sorry, Mom. It’s just I don’t know what to expect from you anymore. Midlife crisis, divorce...”

  “Now girls, either sit down and be quiet or leave the room. The constables are asking the questions now,” Angie instructed.

  The girls pulled up chairs and sat quietly. Robert seemed amused. Cayne just kept on writing.

  “Angie, I think you need some protection out here. Excuse me ladies, male protection out here. I will have one of the constables out here until we catch this tan man. Right now I need a good description of him. I’ll have the car, its description and plate number out to the locals.”

  “As I already told you he was wearing a tan raincoat, tan slacks, tan shoes and he has a bad comb-over, balding with a couple of hairs grown long to keep his head warm. He was wearing glasses, but I could see he had dark eyes. Brown? Yes, they were brown. He has a thin knife cut on the left side of his neck. He is just shorter than I. Oh, I would say five foot seven or eight. He was carrying a gun under his left arm. I think it would be safe to say that he’s right handed.”

  “Anything else?” Cayne asked.

  I looked at Angie. She thought a moment and shook her head.

  “Wait, he had an accent.” I nodded my head. “It sounded like Paz’s east-end accent.”

  “Paz isn’t from the east end, Mom. She just pretends.”

  Paz just held up her arms and confirmed Noelle’s observation.

  “Well, maybe it was phony. Anyway, he sounded like Paisley.”

  Robert got up. “I am going to bring some lab boys out. And would you mind if I ask Will Comstock or his boy to stick around till I can get one of my constables out here? I need Cayne to finish his report. I'm going to bring the Yard into this, first time since the missing campers.”

  “Will is fine or Billy. I’m sure the girls would rather have Billy around.” Angie winked at Noelle and Paz.

  “Billy’s a good boy. Girls, would you feel safe with the lad around here?” Robert teased. Seeing the girls’ eyes light up he nodded. “Billy it is. Until then, don’t leave the house or answer the door. Come on, Cayne. Let’s look at the barn. The fool may have left us some evidence.”

  The constables left the kitchen and Angie locked the door after them. “Who could use a drink? I know I could. Come on, Cin, let’s go into the living room and the girls can tell us about their day.”

  I raised my head and pushed my tired body out of the chair. I started to walk and remembered I only had one shoe on. I pulled off the other one and tossed it into the trash.

  “Noelle, I think as soon as we can I need to go shopping for some shoes. I only have my dressy black shoes left.”

  “I guess we need to go back into Penzance. Oh, wait until I tell you. The Internet café has a web cam. So we can see Alex, and he can see us. Of cours
e, we’ll have to coordinate times.” Noelle declined the offer of alcohol and sat down next to Paz in the overstuffed loveseat. Paisley was nursing a shot of whisky.

  I noticed Angie handed me a larger dose than before and hers was larger still. She raised her glass. “Adventures.”

  “Adventures,” we toasted back.

  “Speaking of which, tell us how your errand went?”

  “We emailed Alex and attached the file of the scanned manuscript. Paz sent another copy to one of her blokes at the Royal Conservatory of Music. I ran the name M. Sherborn through a search engine and came up with a Maurice Sherborn who’s a composer. Mostly British brass band stuff, but he did an Overture that evidently impressed the Queen. Get this, he’s going to be knighted at the end of the month.”

  “Maurice knighted?” Angie shook her head. “He was lousy.”

  “I don’t know about that because classical isn’t my forte, but he is going to be knighted for his ‘Eclectic Body of Work.’”

  “Hold on, what does eclectic mean?” Paz asked.

  “Eclectic means composed of various means and styles. For example my mother is wearing an eclectic mix of classic and bohemian clothes and jewels.” Noelle looked again. “Don’t tell me, is that the necklace you were sent to get?”

  “Later, tell me more about Maurice.”

  “He has composed marches, hymns, operas and some big band arrangements. He didn’t publish until after World War II. Then it looked like he flooded the market. Hasn’t done anything in the last twenty years though.”

  “Probably living off the royalties,” Angie mumbled, “I just can’t imagine Maurice doing anything worthwhile.”

  “Wasn’t he here at Bathgate the summer Michael was here?”

  “Yes, but he was only welcomed because Father wanted Michael so badly. Maybe the shock of Michael’s death gave Maurice a muse of sorts. I wonder what Bobby will think about this? Bobby spent a lot of time with the students. He could, being male and all.”

  “Noelle, you wouldn’t happen to have seen a picture of Maurice would you?”

  “I didn’t think to print the article, but there was a picture. Old frail looking man with a thick head of gray hair. Why?”

  “I just thought maybe he was our tan man.”