by Ruth Hay
“No one you would know. I have no interest in this mission other than in the recovery of Captain Mackenzie. I am caring for his family who need him back home. Please find him.”
I closed my eyes for a second to focus on my image of the man in darkness.
“Look for Cedric in a small hut near a riverbank but be prepared for a fight.
Be careful, gentlemen. Your search for the thief will lead you along difficult paths.
You leave here tonight. I leave here tomorrow.
Your secrets are safe with me.”
Eleven
I dropped the rented car off in Kirkintilloch and took a taxi back to Lenzie.
Ramses was waiting on my doorstep. His expression radiated pleasure at my return and seemed to indicate he approved of my mission.
I fed him from a cache of canned cat food I had purchased. He liked the salmon and shrimp variety. The breakfast at The Highland Club Hotel had set me up for the day, so I headed to the Mackenzie house to deliver whatever little comfort to Miriam I could.
First of all, I asked for a report on Kelvin.
“The twins love him. He knows all kinds of places around here for outdoor activities. He got the boys to dig a pond in the backyard so they could have a spot to watch their minnows grow and he found some frog spawn. Today they went to gather plants for the borders of the pond. Kelvin says he knows what plants will keep the water clean.”
“Good. I am glad Kelvin is working out so well. Now Miriam, we need to have a quiet talk together. I do not want Noreen to overhear us.”
“Oh, no fear of that. Sadie Turner found a family in the village with a daughter Noreen’s age. She is playing there now. The other two are napping.”
She took a deep breath and sighed from the bottom of her lungs.
“Justine, I feel as if a great weight has been lifted. Thank you for being my angel.”
I tried not to laugh at this well-intended compliment. I was more accustomed to being called some kind of witch.
“Well, I have some news about Cedric and I hope his situation will be resolved before too long. Your husband has been delayed.” I almost said ‘detained’ but caught myself at the last moment. I did not wish to add to Miriam’s worries, at least until that was necessary.
“A group of soldiers is approaching his location even as we speak and I expect you will hear from him before too long. Be patient for a few more days. You are secure here. The back rent is taken care of. You can relax.”
“But how can I possibly repay you, Justine? You must have expenses of your own to cover.”
“That is not for you to worry about, Miriam. Think of it as a donation from people who needed to do a good turn for someone.
Now what about that cup of tea you promised?”
I let Miriam hustle off to the kitchen while I sat back in the living room near the wedding photo that started all this, and thought with delight of the source of the money for the Mackenzies’ rent and my recent exploits. It was a great satisfaction to me when I could steal from the unworthy wealthy and give to those who deserved help. Over the years, I accumulated funds in a variety of denominations. Some were safely stowed in banks and some were in portable valuables like rings or watches that could quickly be turned into cash. Miriam’s beneficiaries were currently resting in prison, a place where they had no need of their stolen money.
* * *
I heard the rattle of tea cups approaching, and wondered if I could finally relax and get the rest I craved. As the end of summer grew closer, Miriam’s twins and her older daughter should be going to the village school and her days would begin to take on a more regular pattern. Hopefully, Cedric would return by then and spend weeks or months with his family for a change. My part in their story was completed.
I would report in to Simon and afterward I could withdraw into my own little house and be at peace.
I had forgotten about Ramses.
It is never a good idea to forget about a Siamese cat.
While I was spending time sleeping and dreaming, and happily arranging my garden and my new accommodations, Ramses was busy elsewhere in the village. He came home some nights but appeared to be tired, eating his food and curling up on the sofa without comment.
Nothing disturbed me for several weeks until he woke me one morning by purring in my ear.
I opened one eye and felt immediately relaxed. A Siamese’s purring is a delightful sound and his whiskers tickle gently.
Not a bad way to begin a day.
I soon discovered that Ramses had a purpose. He wanted me up and ready to receive a visitor.
* * *
A tall man with dark hair and a thin face appeared at my kitchen door just as I poured the first coffee of the day. His arrival did not disturb me as much as it might have done, as this stranger was undoubtedly Captain Mackenzie.
“Come in Captain. Coffee?”
“Thank you. Yes to the coffee, but please call me Cedric. I do not want the villagers to know about my work.”
“I understand.”
I busied myself with coffee and toast and waited to find out what this early morning visit was about.
“I need to thank you, Mrs. Jordan.”
“Justine, please!”
“Well, Justine, it has taken me several days to piece together exactly how much I owe you.
My team told me your information about my location saved them several days of searching. They stole me away with the minimum of disruption, other than one or two of my jailers left with very sore heads, and after a good meal and some medical attention, I was able to join my guys in the search for the man with the passwords. A white man in those remote mountains is difficult to conceal, and we soon tracked him down. When he found out that we had no intention of dragging him back to the authorities, he revealed the information and we were able to connect with a satellite and verify the codes. The sums of money were astronomical. We forwarded the information to our principals in two countries, but I am sure a man who could concoct such an outrageous scheme had concealed other sources of cash on which he and his wife could establish new identities and live well far away from public scrutiny.”
I was happy to know the satisfactory conclusion to the mission.
“So, he will escape punishment by the authorities in the United States and elsewhere?”
“Once the bulk of the money has been restored, I am sure the investors will cease to care, but there is still the matter of the dead man whose body was supposed to be that of our thief.
A few discreet contributions were made to local tribal leaders to ensure adequate compensation is given to the dead man’s family in perpetuity. That agreement was made a condition of the thief’s future freedom from prosecution, at our hands at least. I cannot speak for banking authorities or other interested parties.”
“A nice touch, Cedric! I am glad everything worked out in the end.”
He picked up the coffee mug and drank deeply. I could see, now, the marks of stress on his face and body. In the way of such military types, he made light of what must have been a very difficult confinement and a rescue that would be, more than likely, highly traumatic.
I could read between the lines. All parts of Cedric’s tale, were not as simple as had been described to me. Thankfully, Miriam was not privy to the kind of insights I had. She had learned not to question for her own peace of mind.
“Now Justine, I come to the part of this exploit that confuses me. Who are you, and who do your work with, or work for? I can find no government connection that fits your profile.”
I laughed.
“You will not find one, no matter how hard you look, Cedric. I belong to a small group of individuals whose mission is to act on behalf of those who need help. We are a diverse group with a range of unusual abilities. We come together only by virtue of using remote technologies, and we insist on remaining well hidden.”
“I suspected as much.”
He pushed back in his chair and breathed more
deeply, before continuing.
“Somewhat like my own situation, but without the military aspect.
I will not enquire further, Justine. Know that I am at your service, should you ever need me.
What you achieved for my wife and family puts me forever in your debt.”
We exchanged a smile of understanding. He was about to rise up when he stopped as another thought struck him.
“Miriam says her Siamese cat has abandoned us in favour of your home here. I can hardly blame the Siamese. Life here with you is much more peaceful. Oh, I must not forget to commend you for finding Kelvin. That young lad is a godsend. It may be a few weeks until I can cope fully with those twins again.”
I presumed Cedric had returned with an injury from his captivity that restricted his movement.
I did not delve into my affinity with cats. That was not germane to this present situation. Cedric Mackenzie knew quite enough about me, and my business.
There still remained, however, one more Mackenzie matter that I must attend to before too long. Somehow, I would arrange to have a quiet talk with Miriam about contraception.
Another pregnancy was the last thing she needed.
Twelve
And so, the summer months passed. Peace descended on the village of Lenzie.
The older schoolchildren departed early on buses or in cars with their parents. The younger children attended the village school.
I occasionally accompanied Miriam on walks with Susie and Debbie and learned how wonderful it was to have her husband back at home.
“He does not talk about his work, Justine, but I could see how much weight he had lost. He is staying close to home, eating well again and the children are so much happier and contented. Even Susie is sleeping better at night after her daddy reads a story to her.”
I could see that contentment mirrored in Miriam. I felt it myself. Weeks of quiet had restored most of my energies. There was, however, one thing missing.
“Miriam, have you seen much of your cat lately?”
“No. He has disappeared, but there’s nothing new about that. He was always a wanderer. I think the noise of the children disturbs him.”
We walked on in the September sunshine. Leaves were turning to autumn gold and the days were shorter. I wondered idly when Ramses would return from his latest exploits.
As if I had summoned him, he suddenly popped out from the tall hedges and railings surrounding the only large and stately house in the village. Sadie Turner had informed me this residence belonged to the local laird and his wife.
“The family has been in the area for hundreds of years. You can see the Lennox family monuments in the churchyard. The old couple are not out much these days. Lady Evelyn has arthritis and the Laird is busy with a number of charities. I deliver a basket of supplies to the back door of the mansion every week on a Friday. And …..” Sadie had added in a loud voice meant to reach several of her customers who were in the shop perusing shelves, “…………..their monthly bill is always paid on time!”
I had not encountered Laird Arnold or Lady Evelyn, which was fine with me. Neither did I attend the church services where the elderly couple were sometimes to be seen, according to Sadie.
Until the moment of Ramses unexpected appearance, I had given no thought to the residents of the imposing stone mansion whose chimney pots and looming tower could be glimpsed through the trees of their driveway.
But now, I was obliged to pay attention.
Ramses immediately began to weave back and forth between my legs so that I had to stop walking or risk a fall. His loud miaowing sounds were insistent. While Debbie bent in delight to stroke him, I received the message that something was very wrong. His eyes never left my face.
As quickly as he had arrived, the cat disappeared through the hedge again, with a final flick of his tail.
Miriam resumed pushing the baby’s pram and talked to Debbie about how the cat must have found a larger, more peaceful home in the mansion. This seemed to satisfy them, but my mind was seething with a sense of imminent disaster.
At the end of the village where the remaining houses were set farther apart, Miriam turned around and made for the local school to collect Noreen and her twins. The conversation was about snacks before supper and neither one noticed that I was silent.
I bade them farewell at the school gates and made my way home to wait for Ramses.
He came in through the cat flap, which I had installed in the kitchen door. I was ready in a black warm coat and woollen hat and carrying a flashlight. For some reason, Ramses had waited until dark to fetch me, so I prepared carefully by loading my pockets with various items that might be required.
To my surprise, he did not lead me along the road to the mansion, but chose to exit through the gate at the back of my garden. I was pleased I had thought to wear warm boots. The nights were becoming cold.
I had supposed there was a path through the rough ground behind the row of houses fronting the High Street, but it was a path known only to Ramses. He walked at a steady pace and I was grateful for the light from a moon high above that illuminated his cream coloured fur.
I trudged along for some minutes past gardens and through a field until I recognized the tall steeple of the church and knew we were approaching the rear of the old mansion.
Fortunately, Ramses did not choose to enter the graveyard. I try never to go to such places. Some of the dear departed cling onto their final remains longer than others do.
We reached a gate with a path leading up to the mansion house through vegetable and flower gardens.
Ramses never hesitated. It was clear he was heading for the house. In the light of the moon, I noticed the building had parts that suggested a medieval house was the original building, added on to by later centuries of construction.
Just before we broke from the cover of the topiary hedges, I heard a sound. Light streamed out from an open door and I could see two men struggling to manoeuvre a hefty piece of furniture down two steps and onto a wheeled trolley.
Ramses stopped in his tracks and I stayed low watching this performance.
When the furniture, which could have been one of those enormous, old-fashioned wooden sideboards, was balanced precariously on the trolley, the men proceeded to wheel it along to a side path and so toward the front of the mansion.
Lady Evelyn was planning to move house in the middle of the night? Hardly likely.
There was something very wrong here.
My next thought was to see where the furniture was heading. If it was to a large moving van, that would be difficult to hide. Someone living in a house opposite might see or hear the commotion.
Ramses must have had the same thought. He conducted me onto the side path and we crept along slowly, down the driveway to the mansion’s open gates, until I could see out onto the street.
There was indeed a moving van there with no lights and a silent engine. The back of the van was open while the men stowed the sideboard into place inside. By craning my neck, I saw that there were several other large items covered in heavy cloths in the interior.
Stranger and stranger. These men were up to no good.
I was growing colder but Ramses did not move until the final part of the midnight plan was revealed.
The two men, with the addition of another person who must have been inside the back of the van, now began to push the vehicle by brute force until it rolled silently and smoothly away from the gates and out of the high street heading toward Kirkintilloch. The driver was directing the progress from the cabin and waiting until the van was far from the gates before he started the engine and drove off.
Two of the men quickly ran off in different directions. The third jumped in beside the driver.
This was not the first time this act of theft had occurred.
* * *
When all was quiet again, Ramses and I snuck through the partly opened gates and walked silently back to number 23 by the faster route.
I got the message. My help was needed again.
Thirteen
I decided on a frontal attack.
This would necessitate a minor disguise. I dug through my older clothing, now stored in the second bedroom and found a cloche hat and matching brown coat. With the addition of a notepad and pen and a pair of my dark spectacles, I was ready to assume my temporary identity.
I drove along the High Street and parked just beyond the gates to the mansion, walking back and entering as if I had business to conduct.
All was quiet when I rang the bell at the handsome, carved front door. I could hear the echo inside but no one responded.
I tried twice more before I heard footsteps approaching.
The heavy front door was opened to me by a tall, middle-aged woman, wearing a flowered apron. Her hair was dyed an obvious shade of brown, and straggled across one shoulder in an untidy braid. I plastered a smile on my face but I knew at once this woman was not the lady of the house, and neither was she out for anyone’s benefit than her own.
She simply reeked of avarice.
* * *
“Good morning. I represent the Scottish Historical Society. This fine mansion has been identified as an excellent example of seventeenth century Scottish domestic style. We wish to include the establishment in our catalogue of Homes Not To Be Missed. The next edition will be in print before the end of the year. My name is Linda Haland.
May I speak with Laird Arnold or with Lady Evelyn?”
“Certainly not! My employers are elderly and cannot be burdened with such nonsense. Leave the premises at once and do not return.”
She made to close the heavy door in my face but I placed my booted foot over the threshold and raised my voice to a particularly loud and carrying tone and began my spiel again.
