The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  "Are you going to ask the police that when you talk to them?" Sally asked with a grin.

  "We both know that I’m not going to ask them anything," Elizabeth said.

  "Oh, but Cynthia will want to hear what you learned from them."

  "If she does then I will tell her that I am doing some checking on my own. I’ll say that I need the exact address of the place Rick and Alison lived in on Fitzsimmons Road North so that I can go to the town hall and see if they have indeed changed their names. That will keep her busy for a while. And if I delay things long enough, the police will figure it out before I have to tell her anything." Elizabeth changed the subject. "So did Bonnie tell everyone about her cousin?"

  "She did. It seemed to catch Kat Mac off guard but I’m not sure if it was because Bonnie used the word murder instead of accident. Or it might have been that she didn’t expect anyone to know about it.”

  "What did the other students say?"

  "Some were surprised, others acted bored with it. The news certainly didn’t put a damper on the lecture today."

  "Did she talk with that Michael Wolf?"

  "She was going to go upstairs to the screen writing room after class and see if he was there. I haven’t seen her since so I don’t know if she did get to speak with him."

  * * *

  It’s evening. Kat Mac has invited me over to her place to discuss my manuscript. I take along a DVD with the whole story including the last chapter. I hand it to her.

  "What is this?"

  "It’s the manuscript with the final chapter."

  "Final Chapter? I thought you had given me everything."

  "This just finishes the story."

  She takes the DVD eagerly from my hands and puts it in her computer. I can almost follow the words as she reads it.

  Kat Mac looks at me when she is finished. "Yes, that’s a better conclusion." She grins. "After reading your work I am wondering if I cried at birth."

  I nod. "As soon as Gwin had finished telling me I had to phone my mother to ask her that."

  "What do you mean that Gwin told you this?"

  I hesitate. Do I tell her that two voices revealed this story to me, that I believe it to be true? No, I don’t think that’s wise. Because, while this is credible to me, to her it’s just fiction. "I guess I just got so wound up in the story that the characters seem real to me."

  "Ah, the sign of a natural born writer." Kat Mac nodded. "You are lucky. Most writers struggle from word to word with the plot and the story."

  She held up the DVD. "What a great idea that the babies who cried at birth here on Earth are murderers from another planet. And the people who are murdered here are at the end of their criminal sentence and are sent back home. I think the best is that you make it look like the people here on Earth who are murderers are the Enforcers. You have a great imagination."

  I blush and feel like a fraud. For it wasn’t my writing. I was just the instrument through which Mikk and Gwin told their story.

  "It still needs more editing. There are other angles you could add, some you could take away."

  I open my mouth, then close it. What can I say? I edited it as I was going but not to change anything. I was just correcting my mistakes and trying to remember what I may have missed. I did take out a few things that I thought wouldn’t change the story. But I kept them in a separate file in case what I was told later was related to something I had removed.

  "What did you have in mind?" I ask.

  "Well, this does make it look like it’s an explanation of how our ancestors, the cave people, went from hunter gathers to growing their own grain and vegetables about 10,000 years ago. But I don’t think many people know about that change in our history so that has to be embellished a little more."

  Kat Mac’s eyes have a faraway look to them. It seems as if she’s talking to herself instead of to me.

  "And," she continues. "Mikk states that chips will be put in some minds to teach the people here to improve their circumstances to make it look like this was the way that people developed the great ideas that have gotten us to the techno age where we are now. I think that needs to be changed to the minds of the prisoners are much more advanced than the cave peoples so that they would naturally have the ideas on how to improve their lives."

  Again, I pretend to think that over.

  "Do you have more copies?" She suddenly asks me.

  "Yes."

  "Are they safe?

  "Yes, I have it on my laptop in my room, then a backup DVD, and the DVD I brought you."

  "Just the three?"

  "I think that’s enough. If I lose my computer or if it’s stolen I still have the DVDs."

  I’m on cloud nine, as they say, when I leave Kat Mac’s place. She really does like my story. She’s going to talk with the publisher about it, pitch it to him before next Friday. This is so much better than I expected. I don’t feel like going to my room. I have to walk a bit and enjoy this feeling. It’s already dark, though. I’ve never been one to be out after dark but I just can’t sit. I begin walking down the street going over the story and my conversation with Kat Mac. It’s still surreal that it happened so fast.

  But I also have a question. We all die. Are those who die of natural causes the authentic inhabitants of this planet and those who are killed in accidents or murdered the ones from Terrene?

  Then I notice footsteps behind me. My heart jumps in fear. Is it someone out enjoying the evening like me or is someone following me? Then I think, how stupid. Why would anyone follow me? But they steadily keep coming, seem to be catching up to me. Is the person in a hurry?

  I want to turn and look to see who it is but I’m afraid to. Why didn’t I go straight to my room? Should I run to one of the houses and bang on the door? I feel my cell phone in my pocket. I could dial 911 and plead for help.

  A stupid thought enters my mind. Is my sentence up? Have I refused to die so am about to be murdered? Is he or she an Enforcer from Terrene who’s job it is to send me back home? Was that why I was told this story? To let me know that I can run but I can’t hide?

  * * *

  After walking Chevy, Elizabeth joined Sally in the dining room for breakfast. They were the only ones there although the table next to theirs had the remains of food on two plates.

  "We always seem to miss the breakfast crowd," Elizabeth said.

  "Well, I don’t mind not being in the same room with Daryl," Sally said. "But I wonder where Bonnie is."

  "Yes, I was looking forward to hearing how her meeting with Michael Wolf went."

  "Do you want me to call you after I see her this morning?" Sally asked with a grin. "Or are you going to be busy tracking down the killer of the young woman for your client?"

  Elizabeth made a face. "I don’t have a client. But I will probably go talk with Alison and Rick."

  Their conversation stopped as Beverly brought in their breakfast of omelette, fruit bowl, and biscuits.

  "This looks so good," Elizabeth said, eyeing her plate. "Do you have a hard time coming up with something different every morning?"

  Beverly shook her head. "No, I have a number of menus that I’ve made up and I go through them and pick out the ones that I think my guests will like."

  "Any idea of what to ask Alison and Rick?" Sally asked, after Beverly left the room.

  "No. I have to be careful that I don’t say anything that will point to the fact that I know they’ve lived here before."

  "If they actually have." Sally ate a strawberry.

  Elizabeth nodded. She cut into her omelette and ate a bite. "Um, is this delicious."

  "What day are we going to see your grandmother this weekend?" Sally asked, trying her own.

  "Whatever one works for you. Do you have any homework to catch up on or want to work on your novel?"

  Sally shook her head. "No. I could use some time away from lectures and writing."

  "Are things starting to make more sense, like that Michael said it would?"
r />   "Actually, yes they are. Plus, now Kat Mac is getting more into what to include, and not include, in science fiction. Her talk today is about how some modern inventions were predicted in past science fiction novels and short stories and how to take inventions of modern science and project them, or their offshoots, into the future."

  "Sounds heavy," Elizabeth said. "So, let’s set Sunday as the day to go to Vancouver. I’ll call Grandma and let her know we’ll be there sometime late morning. That will give us time to visit Granville Island also."

  "Good." Sally looked at her watch and stood. "I’d better go. See you later."

  Elizabeth remained at the table enjoying another glass of juice. By the time Beverly returned to clean the table Elizabeth had formulated some questions to ask her.

  "How long have you had this bed and breakfast?" she asked as an opener.

  "Oh, years," Beverly answered, gathering up the dirty plates.

  "So you would know many of the people who have lived in the area in the past."

  "Are you working on the death of the young woman?" Beverly asked, setting the plates back on the table.

  Boy, how did she answer that question? "Not really working on it," Elizabeth said crossing her fingers behind her back. "I’m just a little curious."

  "And you want to ask me some questions," Beverly smiled.

  "Do you mind?"

  "Not yet, but that might change depending on what you ask." She sat in the chair Sally had exited.

  "What do you know about the people who owned the house next door?"

  "Not much. They bought it about ten years ago and then have mostly rented it out."

  "Did they ever live there?"

  "No."

  "Not even during skiing season?" Wasn’t coming to Whistler for the winter the reason most people owned a place here?

  Beverly shook her head.

  "How long did the tenants stay?"

  "Not long. I think it was rented out mainly to the skiing crowd in the winter and the occasional tourist in the summer."

  "Did you ever meet any of the tenants?"

  Beverly shook her head. "I would sometimes see the renters but seldom ever talked to them. Running a bed and breakfast means that I spend a lot of time inside cleaning rooms, baking, and doing laundry."

  “Did a young woman come to you about two years ago asking about the owners of the house?”

  Beverly thought a moment. “If she did, I don’t remember.”

  "Do you remember any pregnant girls being there?"

  "There may have been, but like I said, I didn’t have much time to notice what was going on next door."

  * * *

  Sally watched for Bonnie on her walk to the retreat. She wasn’t in the group talking outside the building and she wasn’t in her seat when the class started. Where was she? Had Michael Wolf given her some information about her cousin and was she now checking into it? But surely she would have contacted us if she’d learned anything. After all, Elizabeth was the one who solved these things and Bonnie had stated she wanted help from her.

  Sally decided that speculation on her part would get her nowhere. Bonnie may just be ill and staying in her room until she felt better. But even as she thought it she knew that Bonnie wouldn’t miss this morning. She’d been so excited yesterday about getting word out about her cousin’s murder, as she called it, that she wouldn’t have taken the chance that someone might have something to tell her today.

  "Give it a rest," Sally admonished herself. "There’s nothing you can do right now." She tried to take her mind off Bonnie by concentrating on Kat Mac’s lecture.

  "A lot of what is modern inventions could have started out as Science Fiction gadgets. Take for instance the Joymaker from the 1965 novel Age of the Pussyfoot was a transponder that connected you to a central computer in your city. This computer was shared by everyone else in the city. Early in life this Joymaker began to decide what each person wanted to do or watch on television or where they wanted to eat based on their interests, their likes and dislikes, etc. It was supposed to take away the guess work about which party to go to, where to shop, whether you should be friends with a certain person. There was no going on impulse, everything was figured out for you so that your day ran smoothly."

  Kat Mac paused and looked around the room. "Can anyone guess today’s application of this fictional tool?"

  "It sounds kind of like a wireless personal digital assistant," Daryl said.

  "Good," Kat Mac nodded with a smile. "Anyone else?"

  "Well, Google eventually wants to have everyone’s information in their data base so that could be the forerunner of Google’s plan," Lisa said.

  "Very good. I’m glad you picked up on that," Kat Mac said. "Does anyone else have an idea?"

  The rest of the class was silent. Sally found herself watching the door willing it to open and Bonnie to enter, apologizing for her lateness. That didn’t happen.

  "Then there was The Game Players of Titan written by Philip K. Dick in 1963. A car in that book had an auto-mech that wouldn’t let the driver drive it if he was drunk. Also, the car talked to the driver. Both of these features are now offered in many of today’s vehicles."

  Sally was getting more and more worried as the morning progressed. Where was Bonnie?

  "Did you know there is a word for modern science imitating science fiction stories?” Kat Mac asked. "It’s called Technovelgy." She wrote it on the blackboard breaking it into its components Tech novel gy.

  Sally smiled while the others in the class laughed at the new word. She wrote it down in her notes wondering if it was actually a word accepted by the publishers of today’s dictionaries.

  "The informal definition for Technovelgy is: the creative ideas and inventions of science fiction writers," Kat Mac continued. "So one of the things a science fiction writer has to do is take modern inventions and tweak them to fit in your future world. Or better still come up with new inventions in your novel that could someday be used in real life."

  During the break Sally looked for Michael Wolf in and outside the building. When she didn’t see him she got herself a cup of coffee and went over to where Lisa and Kirk were talking with Russ Peters and Reggie Shaw. Daryl walked up to her and asked. "So where’s Ms Angel cards? Did she finally quit the class?"

  "I don’t know where Bonnie is," Sally said. "And I’m a little worried. Has anyone seen her since yesterday afternoon?"

  The four others in the group shook their heads.

  "I wouldn’t worry about her," Daryl said, scornfully. "She has her cards to protect her."

  "Why don’t you knock it off with the cards?" Kirk asked.

  Sally didn’t wait to hear Daryl’s reply. She headed to the stairs and climbed them to the second floor. She walked down the hallway looking for the sign for the screenwriters class. When she found it on one of the open doors she paused then walked into the room. There were three people sitting at tables typing on their computers. One of them was Michael.

  "Excuse me, Michael," Sally said quietly, as she sat down beside him. She hoped she wasn’t interrupting him in the middle of a great idea.

  He looked up from his work and smiled. "Hi," he said.

  "I haven’t seen you for a while," Sally said.

  "Yeah, I’ve been working on my script."

  "Could we talk for a few minutes?"

  "This sounds serious," Michael said. He hit save and turned to her. "What’s the problem?"

  "Did a woman named Bonnie speak with you yesterday?"

  "Yes," Michael said. "She told me about her cousin Sylvia being murdered and she wanted to know if I had been in the same class with her two years ago."

  "And had you?"

  Michael nodded. "It took me a while to remember but then she described her red hair and I did. But I didn’t recall anything about a murder. As far as I knew Sylvia death had been accidental."

  "What else did Bonnie want to know?"

  "If Sylvia liked the class and if she had
talked with Kat Mac about her manuscript."

  "And what did you answer?"

  Michael looked at her quizzically. "Why are you asking me these questions?"

  Sally hesitated. How much should she tell this man? If he knew Sylvia two years ago there was a chance he may have had something to do with her death, assuming, that is, that Bonnie was right. "Bonnie didn’t show up at class this morning. I’m trying to find out where she might be."

  "Well, the questions you are asking suggest there is more to it than that."

  Oops. Was she that obvious? Now what did she say? How would Elizabeth handle this?

  "Well," Sally said slowly, her mind racing through all the answers she could think of. He knew that Bonnie thought her cousin had been killed so would it be safe to say that she was worried about Bonnie’s sudden disappearance because of that? "It’s just that her Angel cards warned her that something bad might happen."

  "What?" Michael asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

  Oh geeze, she was sounding like an idiot. She should have thought this out better before racing up here acting like an incompetent detective.

  Sally took a deep breath. "I’m just worried about Bonnie and I wanted to know if you had seen her yesterday."

  "You know." Michael cocked his head to one side. "I could almost get the feeling that you think something has happened to her and that I might have had something to do with it."

  "Oh, no," Sally protested quickly. "That’s not it at all."

  "Then maybe you should tell me what it is about."

  "Okay," Sally sighed. What did she have to lose? She couldn’t say anything worse than she had already.

  Michael seemed to listen attentively as she explained Bonnie’s suspicions about her cousin’s death and that now she hadn’t showed up for class.

  "Did you check her room?" Michael asked.

  Sally shook her head. "I’m going to after class but I wanted to talk with you before you left."

  "So she could be sick and you are on a wild goose chase."

  The room began to fill with students back from their break. Sally grimaced sheepishly. "Yes," she conceded.