The Stuffing of Nightmares (The Mysteries of Bell & Whitehouse Book 7)

by Nic Saint

  “I had noticed, and while I don’t approve of her doing this particular… mambo, I must ask you to butt out of this. This is something between her and me and we will discuss this quietly and in a civilized manner at a later date.”

  “Butt out, butthead,” said the man, and held up his camera again.

  At this moment, there was a commotion inside, and he watched as the door to the room burst open, and more people streamed in. Two men and two women joined the couple, and the policeman, for one, seemed highly perturbed that he was so rudely interrupted. And what was even weirder: he seemed to recognize the four new arrivals.

  Even through the window, he could hear the discussion raging inside.

  “Hey, I know these bozos,” said the man next to him.

  “Well, I don’t,” he said, feeling left out of the loop.

  “That’s Felicity Bell and her little friend Alice Whitehouse,” said the guy, and he seemed happy to see them.

  “The only thing I’m interested in is the identity of that policeman,” Romuald said through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, that’s Virgil Scattering,” said the guy. “He’s just a patsy. Hired to seduce the dame so I can snap some pretty pictures.”

  Romuald looked up in horror. “What? Are you here to set her up? You and that cop?”

  “Sure. Who do you think I am? The wedding photographer?”

  Who—” He almost couldn’t get the words out from sheer indignation and horrified shock. “Who hired you to do this? Was it Grover Calypso?”

  “Sure. That’s the guy. One of my regulars.” Then he squinted at Romuald as if seeing him for the first time. “Say, aren’t you that lawyer fellow? The one she’s been banging?” He pointed a finger to a horrified Romuald. “You are, aren’t you? Hogston, right? I never forget a face I’ve seen through my zoom lens.” He stuck out a hand, and Romuald found it contained a business card. “Name’s Gerry Finnegan. If you ever need a private dick, give me a call.”

  Before Romuald could respond to this enticing offer, loud voices interrupted him. Inside the room, things were hotting up. People were shouting, and this policeman guy was blushing profusely. Even Emilia seemed perturbed, which was not a look that became her. Usually, she was the one doing the perturbing.

  He had the sinking feeling the jig was up. For one thing, he didn’t have any great shots of Grover in action, and for another, he was pretty sure this guy Finnegan was a much better paparazzo than he was. He probably was in the possession of some juicy snaps of Emilia by now. He darted a quick look at the detective’s camera, wondering if he couldn’t simply snatch it and throw it over the parapet. But then a terrifying scream rent the night air, and he shared a startled glance with his involuntary colleague.

  Both men hurried over to the next room—the one Grover Calypso was in.

  And what he saw there was enough to curdle the blood in his veins: the billionaire was lying on the bed, staring up at the blond angel, who was holding a big-ass syringe over him, preparatory to plunging it into his heart.

  Now, he didn’t like Grover very much. Perhaps it wasn’t too much to say that he resented him for the days and nights he spent with Emilia, the woman of his dreams. But to watch him die by the hands of this nasty piece of work was something he couldn’t condone. So instead of waiting in the wings, he put his foot against the window and gave it a vigorous kick. Finnegan had the same idea, and the window collapsed under the impact of their joint efforts, erupting into a shower of splintering glass.

  Just at that moment, the connecting door to the other room was kicked in, and a guy who looked surprisingly a lot like that movie star Chuck MacWhatshisname came barging through the door. All three men simultaneously descended upon the bed and toppled over the murderous blonde with the syringe, thereby saving Grover Calypso from certain death.

  With three men piled on top of her, the blonde had no recourse, and she cried out in frustration, “What’s wrong with you people today?!”

  “You simply can’t go around killing people,” he pointed out.

  Finnegan concurred, “It’s not a great line of business, honey, trust me.”

  More people filed into the room, and he suddenly realized that he was still holding the camera. Something told him that he wouldn’t need it anymore. The nature of the game had abruptly changed. There wouldn’t be a nice quiet divorce and a transfer of millions into his and Emilia’s accounts.

  Chapter 40

  When Felicity barged into the hotel room, she didn’t know what she would find. But what she most definitely wasn’t prepared for was Virgil Scattering, engaged in a passionate tryst with Grover Calypso’s wife. For a man who’d never been kissed before, he was doing a pretty good job!

  Then, deciding that this was none of her business, she slowly started backtracking, an excuse forming on her lips for this rude interruption.

  Alice seemed to think different. Virgil might not be a close friend of theirs—more like a frenemy of a kind—but she still felt he needed saving from the clutches of what she clearly thought was a man-eater of the worst kind.

  So Alice walked up to the startled couple, still entangled on the couch, and spoke her mind and spoke it forcefully, with Felicity, Rick, and Reece hovering in the background, feeling not a little awkward about all of this.

  Alice felt strongly about the matter. It didn’t do for an upholder of the law like Virgil to engage in illicit relations with a woman he knew to be married, and she didn’t mince words when she stated this opinion.

  “Virgil Scattering!” she cried. “What would your mother think?!”

  She’d struck the right note, for Virgil visibly blanched. The man was more afraid of his mother than of any villain, and the thought of his mother finding out he was in a New York hotel room conducting a torrid affair with a married woman was enough to make him wilt.

  “Mother doesn’t know,” he tried feebly, as if that was a good excuse.

  Alice was having none of it. “Marjorie didn’t raise you to throw your life away on this—this floozy!” she cried.

  This time, it was the woman’s turn to offer feeble protestations.

  “For your information, he seduced me!” she huffed, putting some distance between herself and the policeman. “With his powerful male charisma!”

  Alice raised not one but two eyebrows at this. She’d known Virgil practically since birth, but this was an aspect of the man she wasn’t aware of. Powerful male charisma? She eyed him dubiously. He looked his usual self, complete with balding pate, vacuous expression firmly in place, and slightly bulging stomach, courtesy of a strong penchant for Bell’s cream donuts.

  “I seduced you?” Virgil asked, equally surprised.

  “You put such a powerful spell on me I couldn’t possibly resist!”

  Alice turned to the woman. “Emilia Calypso, you should be ashamed of yourself!”

  Grover Calypso was like a friend of the family. He was, after all, Rick’s sister’s father-in-law, Bomer having recently married Charlene Falcone.

  “Like I said,” Emilia insisted, imperiously rising to her feet, “he seduced me. Besides, nothing happened between us but a chaste little kiss.”

  Her puffy lips and smeared lip gloss belied this bold statement.

  “Something was going to happen if I hadn’t interfered,” Alice pointed out.

  The woman, recovering quickly, gave Alice a hard stare. “What is it to you, anyway? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend, is he?”

  It was a question that Reece had been asking himself too. Why would Alice care that Virgil, a nice enough copper but not her true heart’s desire, would be conducting an affair with this woman? It wasn’t as if what he was doing was illegal, or harmful to anyone but himself and his sense of taste. In fact, according to Alice, this was the first time he’d ever been kissed, so the whole thing might possibly have done him a world of good. Besides, Alice was probably emotionally scarring the guy for life by barging in on him and giving him stern lectures about his p
rivate affairs.

  He stared at Alice, wondering why she was so upset, and for the first time, he was starting to wonder if she was perhaps secretly harboring feelings stronger than mere friendship for the cop. He knew they were childhood friends, and Fee had once told him Virgil was in love with Alice. Could it be that those feelings were reciprocal? Could it be, he wondered, his head spinning, that Alice was secretly in love with Virgil Scattering?

  The moment this was all over, he planned to pose the question. It didn’t do, he felt, that here they were, on the eve of their wedding, only to discover that she was secretly in love with another man.

  Rick, too, had his reservations about the intervention, as Felicity had called it. He didn’t see what all the fuss was about. Virgil was a grown man, and Emilia Calypso a grown woman. What they did in the privacy of their hotel room was their business. And he stood gazing awkwardly at the shame-faced couple, wondering when they could finally go home and crash, when he saw that they weren’t alone in here.

  Outside on the balcony, two men were staring in through the window. Weird, he felt. Peculiar, even. But perhaps this was that fabled Ritz-Carlton customer service. Instead of waiting patiently downstairs for customers to ring room service, staff berthed on the balcony for the opportune moment to swoop in with a chilled bot of champagne or a tray of hors-d’oeuvres.

  Then again, he was something of a hotel aficionado himself, and only very rarely had he seen hotel staff dressed up like these bozos. One was wearing a rumpled overcoat, doing his best impression of Detective Columbo, and the other was all dressed in black, from his black slacks to his black turtleneck.

  He thought he recognized them. The rumpled guy looked like the detective both Chazz and Grover occasionally used to do their bidding, and the other guy was the spitting image of the lawyer Emilia Calypso was rumored to be involved with. As one of New York’s foremost investigative reporters, Rick had his sources, and they rarely missed a beat.

  Then his eye fell on the cameras both men were holding, and the penny dropped. Of course. His dad had asked him to seduce Grover’s wife, and when he’d declined the offer, Chazz had gone and found himself another fool to do the honors. Finnegan was working for Chazz, of course, providing photographic evidence of the tryst. What Hogston was doing out there he didn’t know, nor did he care. What mattered was that Virgil wasn’t merely having a fun night out on the town—he was doing Dad’s bidding, and probably being handsomely rewarded for the privilege as well.

  He shook his head. It never ceased to amaze him how the rich set lived.

  And that’s when a sharp cry rang out from the other room, and Reece was the first to race over, put a sturdy foot against the door, and barge through.

  The scene that met his eyes was a startling one: Grover Calypso, being straddled by a young, blond woman, a syringe in her hands, about to plunge it into his chest. He recognized her as Fabiola Cieslok, stuffer extraordinaire!

  So she found yet another victim for her taxidermist bonanza: a billionaire.

  But then the two bozos were storming in through the window and toppled her, and so did Reece. It appeared that the Cieslok reign of terror was finally over.

  He helped Grover to his feet, noting the lipstick marks on the man’s face. Only one thing was left to be done, he saw. He caught Gerry Finnegan’s eye, and directed a pointed look at Hogston’s camera, then made the universal money sign with thumb and index finger.

  The detective was quick to get the picture. Instantly, he snatched the camera from the lawyer’s hands and made a run for the door. And while Hogston yelled, “Hey! What’s the big idea?!” and broke into a run in pursuit, Rick held out his leg and tripped him up. The lawyer went down hard.

  Though Rick’s reporter’s heart bled that he wouldn’t be able to tell the story of Grover Calypso and his little tryst, Grover was part of his family, and he couldn’t condone pictorial proof of his dalliance to be used against him. Rick Dawson might be one of New York’s most prominent reporters, but first and foremost he was a family man, and family looked out for each other.

  Epilogue

  Felicity, Alice, Reece and Rick were seated at the dinner table at Bianca and Pete Bell’s the next evening, enjoying an extensive feast. Also present were Mabel and her husband Mark, and Brian Rutherford, of course.

  In a corner of the room, Spot lay, sleeping soundly after his adventures of the past few days, and out in the garden Tony was stretching his limbs.

  Pete raised his glass. “To Mabel and Mark,” he said. “That they may live happily ever after in their home, which is now officially their own!”

  Everyone raised their glass in salute to Mabel and Mark.

  “And to Brian,” said Mabel, “who made the impossible possible.”

  Brian gave a shy smile. “I just did what anyone would have done. That mortgage should never have been foreclosed. I simply righted a wrong.”

  “And of course to Fee, Alice, Rick, and Reece,” continued Pete, “for catching a bunch of horrible killers and putting them away for good!”

  “Here, here!” cried Bianca, giving her daughter a proud smile.

  Felicity laughed. “We did have help.” Chief Whitehouse, who was still busy getting to the bottom of the whole Cieslok affair and hadn’t been able to join them for this celebratory dinner, deserved as much credit as they did.

  “And finally,” said Pete, his arm growing heavy, “to the weight wanglers!”

  “Wraith Wranglers, Dad,” Felicity corrected.

  “May they solve many more cases!”

  “And always be safe,” added Bianca with a look of concern.

  Felicity gave her mother’s shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Mom. We have a guardian angel looking after us.”

  “You do?” she asked, surprised. “And who’s that?”

  Fee smiled and pointed to the head of the table, where a chair remained conspicuously empty. At least to those who couldn’t see ghosts. For it was most definitely occupied, by none other than Peverell Wardop. The old ghost was grinning from ear to ear. After running the Wardop Group for most of his life and part of the afterlife, he was finally following in his wife’s footsteps by getting involved with some extracurricular work. Brian had officially appointed him the Wraith Wranglers’ liaison with the other side.

  “That old man is going to help you?” Bianca asked, not entirely convinced that this was such a good thing.

  “That old man is the richest ghost on the planet, Mom, and he’s got a lot of contacts. In fact it’s safe to say he’s one of the best-connected ghosts in the universe.”

  “Oh, well, if you say so, dear,” said Bianca, still not entirely convinced.

  Brian hadn’t merely appointed Peverell as their liaison, he’d also explained about Brice. The fact that he had an evil twin had come as quite a surprise to the four wraith wranglers, but it had explained a lot.

  Felicity raised her glass, interrupting Dad, who was just about to take a sip. “And to Virgil Scattering, of course, who helped save a friend.”

  Virgil, who was grounded for two weeks by his mother, also couldn’t be there, but he’d already been amply rewarded for his services by both Chazz and Grover. The pictures that Gerry Finnegan had obtained had convinced Emilia to play ball, and agree to an amicable divorce that didn’t cost Grover more than what he wanted to part with.

  She and Romuald would have to raise their love child on their own dime.

  Soon, the feast was in full swing, and when Felicity wandered out into the garden for some fresh air, she found Alice and Reece engaged in a spirited discussion. When she approached, Alice looked up, flushed and perturbed.

  “Is everything all right, you two?” she asked.

  Reece merely shook his head, and returned indoors, and Felicity approached her friend wearily. Alice looked shell-shocked.

  “Honey?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

  Alice was hugging herself. “Reece thinks that I’m in love with Virgil.”


  Fee stifled a startled cry. “What?” she asked incredulously. “Are you sure?”

  “Afraid so. He says he knows I have a thing for Virgil, and he wants to work things out before we tie the knot.” She gave Fee a look of confusion. “I don’t feel anything for Virgil, you know that. He’s just a friend—of a kind.”

  “You know what? I’ll go talk to him right now—don’t worry.”

  “Thanks,” Alice murmured, visibly disturbed.

  Fee shook her head as she walked into the kitchen through the back door, and found Reece intently studying a bottle of cooking sherry.

  “Reece,” she barked, “what’s all this nonsense about Virgil?”

  “It isn’t nonsense when it’s true,” he pointed out, refusing to look up. Then he leaned his back against the kitchen counter and folded his arms across his chest. “I know that Alice is in love with the sap. It was pretty obvious from the way she scolded him at the Ritz-Carlton. She was clearly upset to find him in the arms of another woman.”

  Felicity laughed, drawing a surprised look from Reece.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked. “It’s true. One of the things I’ve learned as an actor is to read people like a book. She’s in love with that guy.”

  “I think you’ll need to practice that skill some more,” she said, joining him. “Alice and Virgil are friends, nothing more. He’s like her idiot little brother, which is why she was so concerned to find him with Emilia.”

  “Little brother? He’s older than you guys.”

  “Even though Virgil is older in years, we like to think that mentally he’s a few years behind.”

  “More like a decade,” Reece commented.

  “Exactly, which is why Alice and I feel he needs looking after. Let me put it this way. I’m an only child, and so is Alice. So the two of us naturally flocked together and became close—like sisters. By the same token, Virgil is like the brother we never had. You know how he keeps getting himself into trouble, and for some reason we feel responsible.” She shrugged. “It’s a small town. We look out for each another, especially the people we grew up with. You know how it is. You’re from around here yourself.”