by Alexie Aaron
“Inspector Fitch,” a male voice broke in. “Ms. Fin-Lathen, I am aware of this case. How can I help you?”
“Inspector, do you know if Angie Bathgate still has a constable with her?”
“Yes, she does. Constable Core.”
“Please, contact her and find out if Michael Sherborn is there. If so, she needs to get Angie and herself away from him.”
“Why?”
“I feel he may be the murderer of Donald Williams. Plus, Maurice Sherborn and Bentley Hughes are in great danger. I also think that Ivana Penny, alias Ivan Bendonovich, is somehow connected to this.”
“Right, where are you now?”
“At the Lord Whitman Price’s home in ... damn, I’m not sure. The house is called Rosewood Manor.”
“Highgate. You’re in Highgate. A constable will be there to pick you up. Don’t let anyone else take you anywhere. I will also give instructions to secure Lord Price’s home.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ms. Fin-Lathen, Maurice Sherborn was discovered a few minutes ago in his office by his secretary. He’s dead. It looks like an ‘apparent suicide.’ Ivana’s constable in Brighton has not checked in and has been missing for over four hours.”
“Bentley?” Please, oh please let him be safe.
“He’s home with his family. I have doubled the guard on his home. Has Father Williams contacted you?”
“He’s in the hospital. I was just there a few hours ago.”
“Well, now he’s missing. His aunt has no idea of his whereabouts. Hold on.”
My world was unraveling faster than I could pick up the pieces. Maurice dead, Father Michael missing, and all I did was eat dinner.
“Ms. Fin-Lathen? Are you still on the line?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I just heard back from Constable Core. Angie is alone presently. Michael Sherborn left after escorting her home. Hold on.”
I needed some good news. Hell, how could I be so unobservant? Where was Father Michael?
“Ms. Fin-Lathen, are you still there?”
“Yes. Yes I’m here.”
“Constable Core went to look in on Angie, and she’s gone and the latch is broken on her window. The Constable says she last saw her enter the room a half hour ago.”
“Listen, I’m just going to speak here. If I insult you or cover ground you have already covered then please excuse my American arrogance.”
“Go ahead.”
“You need to put Michael Sherborn and Ivana’s face out there to your constables. Also, check out an estate agent named Bonner – Beverly Bonner. CSP Browning has the phone number. Bentley Hughes is being set up. I bet my car that Maurice Sherborn was murdered.”
“What kind of car?”
“BMW Topaz blue convertible roadster.”
“Right. You must be very sure. The Constable picking you up is named Mark Green, Constable Mark Green. A Constable Strongheart will be staying with the Price family.”
“Thank you, Inspector Fitch.”
I hung up the phone and ran up the stairs, I was glad Paz was standing outside my door or I wouldn’t have found it. I ran in. Peter, Billy and Noelle’s anxious faces looked up as I entered.
“I have bad news. Maurice is dead, and Angie and Father Michael are missing. I feel Michael Sherborn is our mastermind, and if Ivana isn’t dead she/he is in on this. I need you three to stay here. Make phone calls, do whatever you need to do, but don’t leave this house. Noelle and Paz, you’re as much a target as Father Michael. Billy less so, but I need to know you’re safe. Peter, I’m counting on you to keep these three safe. A Constable Green will be picking me up soon, and a Constable Strongheart will be securing this house. Stay together, this is a big house, someone may already be here.”
“Where are you going?”
“I am going to see CSP Browning. He and Sergeant Moore are at Maurice’s office. They say it’s a suicide. It isn’t. I know it isn’t. I want you all to listen carefully. Michael Sherborn and Ivana Penny have planned very carefully to kill Maurice and frame Bentley. I can’t prove it, yet. But I think Bentley never knew anything about the stolen music nor that Angie was alive. They want revenge. No, more than that. They want money.”
“Do you have to go?” Noelle asked. "You're scaring me.”
I pulled off the Kernow Daa necklace and put it around her neck. If it had power I wanted it to keep Noelle safe. I would rely on my faith and my wits.
“Honey, please try and understand. I’m responsible for Angie and Father Michael. Maurice dug his own grave, but I put those two in the line of fire. I got all caught up in the romance of reunited lovers and didn’t think things through. Peter, can I use your cell phone?”
“Sure.” He got it out of his pocket.
“Please program in this number, I want to be able to hit a single button to talk to you. Is that possible?”
“Already done.” He handed it back to me. “Be careful.”
He guided Noelle out of the room. Billy and Paz still stood there.
“Try not to do anything dumb,” Paz said.
“Oh I will no doubt embarrass myself somehow, now I need some privacy, I have to change.” Billy left. I whirled around. “Paz hand me that big shoe box.” I pulled off my pants and replaced them with the cargo pants I had put in my overnight bag. I pulled off my sweater and put on a t-shirt and replaced the sweater. From my purse I took the knife and opened it a few times before I was satisfied.
"Don't go if you think you're going to have to use that."
"Humor me, Paz. I guess I’m doing a Girl Scout, Girl Guide, thing here. I am being prepared. Insurance. If I have it, I won't need it. At least I hope I won't."
"If you want to be prepared, then we need an expert. Back in a flash," Paz said flying out of the room.
I put on two pairs of socks. They didn't match, but I didn't think I would be dining with the queen tonight. I pulled the Doc Martin Boots out from the box Paz handed me. I laced up the right, tying a double knot - I didn’t want to lose another shoe. I tied the left halfway up and slid the closed knife between the socks and finished tying the boot. I stood up and walked a few steps to see if it would impede my gate. It didn’t.
I began filling my cargo pockets with my passport, credit card, pound notes and my sunglasses. I was fumbling with my hair when the door opened. I turned around to see Lady Mary filling the doorway.
“I see you’re going off into battle.” She looked me up and down. “They’ll find the knife, maybe. The pockets will be searched but maybe not your hair. Come here.”
I obeyed. Lady Mary drew out of her handbag a vicious little stiletto sheathed in tan leather.
“Sit down.”
I did as she commanded. She started to French braid my thick curls. She braided in the leather sheath and continued braiding until she got to the end of my hair. Lady Mary then inserted the blade and wound my hair around and secured it. She gave me a hand mirror and tapped the mirror on the dressing table.
“See here. All you can see is the decorative clip on top of the braid. Give me your arm.” I gave her my right arm. She guided my hand over my head, and I felt the hilt of the stiletto.
“Pull it out, slowly.”
The blade slid easily out. I put it back in. I shook my head and was confident that it was secured.
“Turn around. We aren’t finished yet.”
There was a light tap on the door, and Paz walked in with a roll of duct tape. She handed it obediently to her Grandmother. She placed a bag on the table and left without a word.
Lady Mary took a scissors and cut a V-neck into my T-shirt. She then turned around and worked on something on the dressing table. I heard the duct tape ripping. Turning back around she reached into the neck of my sweater and T-shirt and into my bra.
“Hold on, don’t squirm.”
She taped a tiny sheath on each breast. She then carefully inserted a tiny knife into each sheath.
“If you have to use these,
you may get scratched, but if you’re desperate enough to use them, then what is a scratch or two when you have saved your life.”
“Thank you, I’m speechless.”
“Don’t gawk at me girl, what did you think I did during the war? Roll bandages? Paz left you some things on the table. May you never have to use any of these, but if you do then do me proud.” She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead and left.
I adjusted my shirt and sweater. The dressing table held a plain brown paper bag. It contained a whistle, can of mace and a pair of brass knuckles. I didn’t want to know whose these were. I was still in shock over the knives of Lady Mary’s, and my poor brain couldn’t handle too much more.
I left the room and walked down the stairs to wait for the police. Before I reached the bottom of the stairs I could see that Peter was already at the door talking to the two constables. He looked at their IDs and let them in.
“Ms. Fin-Lathen. I’m Constable Green and this is Constable Strongheart.”
I reached forward and shook their hands.
“Constables, I am worried that there is a small possibility that someone may already be on the grounds. My daughter Noelle, Paisley Price, and William Comstock could also be in danger.”
“Inspector Fitch of the Met has already thought of this. There is a unit presently searching the grounds. Strongheart will attend to the house. Shall we go?”
“Lead the way.” I turned and kissed Peter on the cheek. “Take care of her.” I turned quickly, so he wouldn’t read any fear in my eyes. I was out the door and in the front seat of the car before I had a chance to back out.
Did I really think I was going into a fight? No. Reason dictated that I would go to Maurice’s office and help search for clues, or at least be able to talk face to face with the Chief Superintendant. Reason was a good way to live, but I acted by instinct. Reason put the police in charge, but instinct put the knives on my person. Reason said I would never need them, but my instincts told me this was going to be a long and dangerous night.
Chapter Twenty-two
The ride was swift and uncomplicated. Constable Green was informed only on a need to know basis, but he was excited to be involved in something other than patrolling the streets of this well-tended community. We didn’t encounter any traffic until we hit the heart of the city, and that was mostly cabs, taking the residents home from their evening’s activities. London is as beautiful a city at night as it is during the day. It is by far my favorite city of the world.
Constable Green pulled up alongside the other Met vehicles and told me to wait. He walked cautiously around the vehicle and opened my door. As I got out I noticed for the first time that he had been issued a gun. We walked quickly up the steps and into the building. Mrs. Roberts was brewing tea and coffee for the officers.
She looked out of her small kitchen at me and said, “Anything to keep busy.”
I walked over to her and said, “I’m so very sorry. He clearly thought the world of you. He even confessed to us that he was entertaining the idea of running away with you.”
She smiled sadly, “I came back to return his credit card and was surprised to see that his light was on. We had this code, if he knew he was running late, but still wanted to work after the clients left he would hand me his credit card.”
“I thought that was, er, rather unusual.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I always buy something to soothe my irritation for having to work late. This time it was shoes.” She shook her head to clear it. I was worried that he wasn’t waiting for me by the door and...”
“You saw that he left his light on...”
“He is, oh, was a very frugal man when it came to the utilities so I went in to turn off the lights, and that’s when I found him. He was a mess but his eyes held fear, not resignation. Ms. Fin-Lathen, they found a note. Type written. His signature, but he didn’t type. I don’t think he knew how. I typed everything, and I assure you I didn’t type that letter.”
“He didn’t kill himself," I assured her. “I don’t have to look at him to know that. Don’t you worry; I’ll make sure that they understand that.”
“Ms. Fin-Lathen, I’m sorry I had to tell him that you, Michael and Angela Bathgate were here earlier. The Cornwall CSP didn’t take it well.”
“I don’t doubt that. Don’t worry I will explain it if he lets me.” I squeezed her hand and walked into Maurice’s office.
Maurice’s body was long gone. The crime scene investigators had already processed the room. CSP Browning motioned me over. The room had a sickly copper smell mixed in with the soft leather and wood polish.
“You have a lot of explaining to do. I’m not too happy with you at this moment.” Browning growled. “We will talk later. We found this note.” He handed me a plastic enclosed type-written note with a signature, which was more of a flourish than individual letters.
To the people of the United Kingdom:
I am hardily sorry for the crimes I have committed with Bentley Hughes and find that I cannot bear to live another day. I am a plagiarizer, a liar and a thief. My brother in-law and friend Bentley Hughes aided me in every endeavor.
I have lied to my brother Michael Sherborn and Angela Bathgate. These lies kept my brother from being with the love of his life. So many years wasted while I benefited socially and financially.
I am sorry that I have embarrassed the crown and cast scandal on my family’s name.
Maurice Sherborn
I shook my head. “No, this isn’t a letter Maurice would write. Mrs. Roberts said he couldn’t type.”
“He blew his brains out with an old military pistol.” CSP Browning held the gun incased in plastic in his hand.
“Where’s the bullet?”
“Crime scene dug it out of the wall.” He held up the bag.
“I suggest you take that bag to FSS and compare it to the one they took out of Donald.” I stood up, giving the CSP the full benefit of my height. “Maurice never was enlisted, bad health. His brother Michael was in the military, although I don’t know what branch. If they kept any records of who received what weapon, which I doubt, I would bet that it’s Michael Sherborn’s pistol.”
“Why are you so hot to blame Michael for this?”
I told him about Michael’s telling slip concerning Billy. “He had supposedly never seen any of us before. And Billy thinks Michael looks familiar. Michael knew Angie was alive, and I think he and Ivana have been to Cornwall recently.”
“That sure paints a different picture.”
“My God, Jesus-Mary and Joseph.” Mrs. Roberts ran into the room. “I didn’t see it when I came in. I put my purse over it. Come, come.”
She grabbed my arm, and I followed her to her desk. CSP Browning was one step behind me. Mrs. Roberts pointed to her dictaphone and the light was blinking indicating a recording ready to be heard. She pushed the button.
“Mrs. Roberts, I hope you are enjoying your red shoes. Let’s go out dancing to break them in this weekend. I enjoyed my talk with Ms. Fin-Lathen, and she really enjoyed the scotch. Please do me a favor. If I am not at work tomorrow could you deliver the rosewood clarinet to Ms. Fin-Lathen. She was so understanding, and I would like her to have something nice to remember her stay by. “Oh dear, there is someone at the door. I will finish this later.”
I took a deep breath. “That doesn’t sound like a man who was planning to commit suicide. And who was at the door?”
Mrs. Roberts grabbed my arm and dragged me outside. She pointed up to the eaves of the building. “The security camera! We had it installed when we first renovated. We had some break-ins, and the insurance company insisted we put a good security system in. There are two alternating tapes that are recorded over in forty-eight hours if we don’t access them,” Mrs. Roberts explained.
“Where are the recorders?” CSP Browning asked.
“Upstairs, let me show you.” Mrs. Roberts walked down the hall and took out a key and opened a wood panel door. She reached
in and flipped on a light. “We don’t use the upstairs for anything but storage. For aesthetics, the outside looks like it’s lived in.” She stopped at the top of the stairs and turned more overhead lights on. “This way.” We followed her to a small room at the back of the townhouse. Inside the room was some metal file cabinets and on top of them was a double videotape recorder. Wires led up into the ceiling. The machine was plugged into a battery backup.
Mrs. Roberts lifted up her glasses to read the dials. She tapped the top slot. “The bottom tape is running now. Since it’s after midnight, I think this tape has just started recording today.” She reached up and ejected the tape and handed it to CSP Browning. “There aren’t any viewers here, but there is one in Maurice’s, ah, Mr. Sherborn’s office.”
She opened up a new tape and inserted it. We waited for her to lock up. By the time we reached Maurice’s office, Detective Moore had arrived. CSP Browning briefed him on what had occurred since he left the building. His eyes lit up when he heard about the tape. He wanted to wait until we had seen the tape before disclosing what he had found out at the hospital and Angie’s house.
The television and VCR were hidden from sight by double wood doors that matched the décor of the room. I sat back while the lawmen fussed over how to operate the machines. Finally they located the remote control unit, on the shelf labeled, “VCR Remote,” the tape was put in and we sat back to watch.
There was a day/time box that showed up in the bottom right of the frame. To check its accuracy the tape was fast-forwarded to when Michael and I arrived. Detective Moore checked his notes and concurred that the time listed was indeed correct. They ran through the tape at a higher speed. We saw Angie and the constable arrive, Mrs. Roberts leave, and as she was leaving she turned and pulled out a set of keys and locked the door. The next activity was the four of us leaving. At 19:30 hours Michael Sherborn arrived and Maurice let him in. At 19:45 Michael Sherborn left, stopping to pull out a set of keys and tried a couple of keys before he found the one he wanted; he locked the door. At 20:13 Mrs. Roberts arrives, pulls out her keys, unlocks the door and walks in. And at 20:28 two police constables arrive. Mrs. Roberts let them in.
