The Paradoxical Parent (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 13)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  Ed nodded. "Sounds like New Hampshire." He listened to the phone and then said, "Hold on, Martha." He looked at me.

  I handed him the note he'd written.

  "James Kilkenny." He nodded. "Fine." Handing me the phone, he said, "He should be right there."

  I put the phone to my ear and could smell Ed's aftershave. It was something exotic that I'd never come across before. It was mingled with the smell of pipe tobacco. As I waited, I looked over at him and felt a wash of affection for the man I'd only just met. But I could feel the kinship that Carter had laughingly mentioned on the front porch. The man across the desk was my stepfather. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

  Right then, I heard a couple of clicks and a very precise voice said, "Lebanon Inn. Good morning."

  The operator said, "Grafton, Vermont, calling for James Kilkenny."

  "Just a moment. I believe Mr. Kilkenny is in the dining room. Hold the wire."

  I heard the operator on our end sigh and say, "I wish those goodie two-shoes over in New Hampshire would get off their high horses, don't you, Sheriff?" Or, at least, I was pretty sure that's what she'd said. Her accent was so thick that I wasn't sure.

  I replied, "This is Mr. Williams. The sheriff was making the call for me."

  "Beg pardon, Mr. Williams. I hope you've enjoyed Grafton. We'll be looking to see you again in the summer. Miss Grace was telling me how much you look like your mother, poor dear."

  Before I could reply, the voice at the Inn said, "Hold for Mr. Kilkenny."

  "Hello? Mr. Williams?"

  "Yes, Captain. How are you?"

  "I'm fine, sir. How'd you like your first New England snowfall?"

  "It was fine. Cold, but fine. Listen, we're driving down to Boston. Can you fly down there and we'll meet up this evening?"

  "Certainly."

  "Where's a good place to stay?"

  Before he could reply, both of the other voices said, in unison, "The Commander."

  I laughed as Captain Kilkenny brusquely said, "Operator, can you please get off the line?"

  I heard only one click before I asked, "Do you know The Commander?"

  "Sure. It's in Cambridge and it's high tone."

  I laughed. "That's fine. I'll call them and reserve a block of rooms for us for two nights. Can you call Robert when you get a chance and update him?" Besides managing all my properties, including the fleet of airplanes, Robert Evans was also the captain's boss.

  "Sure."

  "So, we'll catch up with you at the hotel this evening. How's that?"

  "Fine, sir."

  "Thanks, Captain. Safe travels."

  "And the same to you, sir."

  I handed the phone back to the sheriff. He shook his head and motioned for me to keep it. I could hear a voice talking as he did. I put the phone back to my ear.

  "Mr. Williams? Are you there? I can call The Commander for you. How many rooms do you need?"

  "Two suites and four rooms."

  "Suites?"

  "Yeah. You don't have to—"

  "Not a problem, sir. Do you have any other calls to make?"

  "Western Union."

  "That's fine. Have a safe drive to Boston. Be sure to come back in the summer. You'll fall in love with the town. I promise."

  I smiled and said, "I will."

  I waited as I heard a couple of clicks. A new voice came on the line. "Western Union."

  "I need to send a telegram collect."

  "Go ahead when you're ready."

  "To Mike Robertson at Consolidated Security. 600 Market Street. San Francisco." I waited for the operator to repeat the address. Once I'd confirmed, I continued, "Dear Mike. Stop. On our way to Boston today. Stop. Reach us at The Commander hotel. Stop. We know most of what happened. Stop. All our love to Marnie. Stop. Nick. End."

  She repeated the telegram to me and I confirmed it.

  . . .

  Once everyone else was loaded in the car, I held back with Ed on the porch. I'd asked him to take care of the house for me, including burning the trash we'd left behind. I'd also given him some money to pay for whatever needed to be done, such as repairing the wall that Carter had punched the night before. He'd been reluctant, at first, but then had accepted.

  We stood there in the morning light under the clearing sky for a long moment. I didn't want to leave. Finally, I turned and looked at him.

  He smiled. "You better get on the road."

  I nodded. "I'm..." I swallowed. I was having a rush of feelings.

  "I know, son." He took my hand and gripped it hard. "Your mother would be so proud of you. You have no idea." He looked at me deep in the eyes. "Whatever you find out, remember that. She loved both of you. She had so much love to give. To everyone." He took a deep breath. "You're a lot like her. And I'm proud to know you."

  He held my hand for a moment longer. Finally, he pulled me in for a hug, clapping me on the back like he'd done the night before. "Go meet my boys. They're your brothers, if you'll have 'em. They're looking forward to it."

  I nodded as we stood there.

  Before I could think about what I was saying, I sputtered, "Is it OK if I call you 'Dad'?" As soon as I said it, I knew I wouldn't. But it meant something to ask.

  I could feel him take a deep breath and hug me a little tighter. "I'd be honored. You and Carter, both."

  "Thanks."

  He clapped me on the back one last time before letting me go. He looked at me with a smile and said, "Call me and let me know what happens. We'll be here anytime you need a place to just get away from the rest of the world. And, son, do me a favor."

  "What's that?"

  "Tell your father how much she really did love him. A woman hurt that much had to be in love. I'm sure he'll understand."

  I looked at him quizzically for a moment, not quite sure I understood.

  Before I could say anything, he cuffed me gently on the ear and, using his fake Georgia accent, said, "Now, git."

  I laughed and walked down the steps. Carter got out out of the car to let me in. As I slid in, he said, "When we come back, Ed, I'll teach you how to talk like a real Georgia cracker."

  Ed laughed. "You do that, son. Be good to each other, boys."

  "We will. See you soon."

  Ed nodded and then turned to walk back into his office.

  . . .

  Johnny seemed to know the way to get to Boston like the back of his hand. Once we got to Bellows Falls, he crossed the Connecticut River into New Hampshire, and then followed a series of back roads without ever consulting a map.

  "How often have you made this trip?" asked Carter.

  "Probably twenty times, at least," replied Johnny.

  As we drove, the skies cleared off completely, revealing a beautiful blue. At one point, I nodded off. When I came to, we were parked in front of a service station. I was alone in the backseat and Frankie was by himself up front.

  "Have a good nap?" he asked as I stretched.

  "Yeah. Where are we?"

  "Just outside of Nashua. We're probably an hour and a half from the hotel."

  I sighed. "Good. I assume they have central heating there."

  Frankie laughed. "They probably do."

  Right then, Carter opened the door and asked, "Need to hit the head?"

  I laughed. "I'm good. Did you pay for everything?"

  He sat down next to me and said, "Sure did, Boss."

  "Good. What day is it?" I asked.

  "Wednesday," replied Frankie. He grinned. "Where were you two at this time last week?"

  I shrugged. "I dunno."

  Carter replied, "It was the middle of the night and we were sleeping soundly inside a renovated Pan American Clipper that was tied up at an uncharted island in the middle of the South Pacific."

  "Are you sure?" I asked drowsily.

  "Positive. Thursday is the day we left. But on Wednesday—"

  I put my hand over Carter's mouth. "I don't think Frankie wants to know about what we did on Wednesday of last
week."

  Carter grinned as I removed my hand while Frankie laughed.

  . . .

  It was half past noon when we pulled up in front of The Commander hotel in Cambridge. A doubtful looking doorman opened Frankie's door and asked, "Checking in?"

  He replied, "Yeah."

  Carter opened his door and the two of us got out while Frankie walked around the car and opened Maria's door for her.

  The doorman coolly asked, "Luggage?"

  I handed him a hundred and said, "In the trunk."

  He looked at the C-note for a long moment, shrugged, and said, "The front desk is just to the right past the front door."

  "Nick, I'll stay with the luggage." That was Johnny.

  I nodded and said, "Thanks." I guessed he was getting the same feeling I had that the doorman was suspicious of who was driving up in a dirty '48 Plymouth.

  While Frankie and Maria had a look at the impressive lobby, Carter and I walked up to the front desk. A red-headed woman with a pair of gold pince-nez smiled tolerantly and asked, "Good morning. Do you have a reservation?"

  I nodded. "Williams. We should have two suites and four rooms."

  She raised a penciled-on eyebrow and said, "Oh yes. I took that call myself this morning. I'm wondering if this is the hotel where you mean to stay." Her manner of speaking was precise and polished. She reminded me of the gal in Singin' In The Rain who'd emphasized, "Round tones."

  "Why's that?" I asked.

  "Well. Two suites. Four rooms?" She looked at me as if she'd asked why we were tracking in mud.

  I pulled out my wallet and handed her my Diners' Club card.

  She looked at it, looked up at me, and frowned. "Where did you get this?"

  I tried not to laugh. "It came in the mail."

  She pointed at my name on the card. "And this is your name?"

  I nodded.

  "Well then, Mr. Williams, would you wait here while I make a telephone call?"

  I nodded again as she walked through a door behind the desk. Behind me, I heard Carter mutter something. I whispered back, "Keep it cool, Frankie, keep it cool."

  He laughed.

  . . .

  After about ten minutes, she returned with a slightly more friendly smile. "My apologies, Mr. Williams." She handed me the card. "Of course, you have unlimited credit with us." She opened a book and looked at it. "Now, let me see what I can offer you."

  I nodded but didn't say anything.

  After a moment, she looked up and said, "Just as I'd hoped. I can accommodate you in Suite 600, our Presidential Suite. Our Commonwealth Suite is also available, which is Suite 620. In addition, I do have four rooms on the sixth floor. All are available right now. Will that be suitable?"

  I nodded and said, "That's fine."

  "Very good. Will you sign the book, please?"

  She turned the registration book in my direction. I did just as she asked and signed. She turned it back and asked for my address. I gave it to her and she wrote it in the book.

  "Now, who are the others in your party?"

  . . .

  Once we were in our suite, I began to strip off my clothes while Carter watched in amusement.

  "What?" I asked.

  "You know this means another trip to some lucky haberdasher to get more clothes, right?"

  I shrugged. "How long do you think we'll be here?"

  "Well, we need to go see that Dr. Farber. And then we need to visit your brothers."

  "My brothers?" I asked, looking at him earnestly.

  He nodded, walked up to me, and asked, "Did he say it was OK for you to call him 'Dad'?"

  I nodded mutely as he pulled me into his arms and held me for a while.

  . . .

  The five of us met in the lobby at half past 1.

  "Lunch?" asked Maria.

  Carter said, "How about here?"

  Johnny piped up. "There's a great Italian place not far from here. George and I used to go there all the time."

  I looked up at Carter, who shrugged. I said, "Carter doesn't like garlic."

  Johnny stepped back dramatically. "Doesn't like garlic!"

  Frankie added, "Yeah! Who doesn't like garlic?"

  "Kids raised in Georgia?" I answered doubtfully.

  Carter shook his head. "You know as well as I do, Nick, that Georgia ain't to blame. It was my ass of a father." He clapped Johnny on the shoulder. "Lead on. I'll survive."

  . . .

  Lunch was delicious and satisfying. The waiter was able to convince the cook to make a quick fresh tomato sauce without garlic for Carter's spaghetti and meatballs.

  Once we were sitting over coffee, I looked at Johnny. "We're all going to need some clothes for the next few days. Do you even have a toothbrush?"

  He shook his head.

  "OK," I said, "I think we need a trip to a department store first, for essentials. Then we need to find a really good men's haberdasher and a ladies' shop."

  Johnny said, "We can do almost all of that across the river in Boston. There's a big Jordan Marsh store downtown and a Filene's and a Kennedy's plus a whole lotta other stores, all right there."

  "Good." I looked over at Maria who was quietly stirring her coffee. I asked her, "Do you have a way that you handle this?"

  She smiled and looked up. Before she could say anything, Frankie said, "Why don't we all meet back at the hotel lobby at 6 or so?"

  I nodded. Carter had anticipated that it might be needed so I pulled a small envelope out of my coat pocket and handed it to Frankie. "That should cover whatever you need."

  He tried to push it back to me. "That's OK, Nick."

  I pushed it back. "Think of it as a bonus. Or overtime, if you want."

  He shrugged and pocketed the envelope. It was five hundred bucks.

  "You two have been working double time for almost a week," added Carter.

  Maria said, "I know it sounds strange, but I've never had as much fun as I've had since we started working for you, Nick."

  I smiled. "I understand. Nothing like being hot on the trail of whatever you're looking for, right?"

  She nodded and looked at Carter. "What about you two? You flew across the ocean and then flew across the country."

  Carter smiled at her. "This is the most important case we've worked on and I'm real grateful the two of you have been right here with us. Means a lot to us both."

  I nodded. "It does. Thanks."

  . . .

  After we put Frankie and Maria in a cab, Johnny, Carter, and I grabbed the next one. Johnny told the driver, "Jordan Marsh, downtown."

  The man flipped the meter on and said something I didn't understand. In between Johnny and Carter, I sat back in the seat of yet another Plymouth sedan and watched as the driver made his way through several streets, across a river, and over into the heart of Boston.

  From what I could tell, the city was a tangle of congested streets that wound around each other in a way that made no sense to me.

  As we sat in slow-moving traffic, Johnny said, "I bet Jordan Marsh will deliver everything to the hotel. We should take the M.T.A. back."

  "What's that?" asked Carter.

  "It's the subway."

  I said, "Would it be faster than this?"

  Johnny and the cab driver both laughed. Johnny said, "We'd already be there, if we'd taken it."

  "Good to know," I replied.

  . . .

  Jordan Marsh had a store just for men that Johnny said would carry just about everything we needed. After asking the first clerk I came across, I was introduced to the store manager. After I explained what we were doing, he called over a man he introduced as Michael.

  Michael, who was obviously in the life, took charge of getting us outfitted for the next few days. He set us up in our own private fitting room on the fourth floor and, using a small team of runners, had all sorts of things brought to us. He even called in a couple of gals to do all the tailoring on the spot so we wouldn't have to wait for anything. We were f
lying high but I was beginning to get used to it.

  It was half past 5 when we were done. After writing out a check for the total and handing it over, I asked, "Can you have all this sent to our hotel?"

  Michael smiled. "Of course, Mr. Williams. Courtesy of the store. Where are you staying?"

  "The Commander."

  He nodded. "Very nice. Handy to Harvard. If you've never done so, you should take a walk around the university grounds. Quite beautiful, even at this time of year. Anything else?" Like the woman at the hotel, I'd noticed that Michael didn't seem to talk like anyone else we came across. He had a very precise way of speaking, although his tones weren't as round.

  I shook my head and pressed a hundred in his palm. "Thanks for everything."

  Without looking at the bill, he quickly slipped it into his pocket. "Entirely my pleasure." He looked around the room. Besides the four of us, only the two gals were in the room. He leaned in and quietly said, "I'm a huge fan of you and Mr. Jones. This really has been a thrill."

  I smiled and said, "Thanks." I was getting more comfortable with statements like that but not completely. I'd figured out to just thank whoever it was and move on. That seemed to be the best approach.

  He nodded. "Again, my pleasure. Will you need a taxi?"

  Johnny piped up. "We're gonna take the M.T.A."

  Michael smiled. "Entirely wise at this time of day."

  With that, he escorted us through the store to the elevator. He pressed the down button. "I hope you enjoy your stay here in the area, Mr. Williams. Mr Jones. Mr. Bellingham." When he looked at Carter, I saw him blush slightly. I couldn't blame him. I'd already proven that Carter was the most handsome man on five continents. There was still Africa and Antarctica to explore, but I figured I was right in thinking he was the most handsome man in the world.

  . . .

  When we walked out of the store, it was already dark. We made a quick trip to a Rexall that was a couple of blocks away. Once we had everything, Johnny led us to the local subway station. We walked down a flight of stairs, put our dimes in the turnstiles, and made our way to the platform. Once the train arrived, it was packed, being nearly 6 in the evening. However, we didn't have to change trains. The one we were on dropped us right at Harvard Square.