“Well, I pretended to be really upset. I wiped the corner of my eye, sniffed a little, blinked back tears and tried not to look at anyone. I bit my lip too. I wanted to look like I needed comforting.”
“I hope you didn’t overdo it.”
I shake my head. “Not a chance. The sisters were so curious, they couldn’t stay in their seats. Almost right away, they scurried over to me. They consoled me for a few minutes and then encouraged me to explain what had caused the argument between you and me.”
“What did you say?”
“The truth.”
Even in the dark, I can tell Aunt Maude is bristling.
“Kidding.” I laugh and give her a peck on the cheek. “But I did use our past discussions about security as inspiration. I just amped them up a bit.”
“Details, please, Christine.”
“I told them how the shop had no night lighting, no security system and no surveillance cameras. I said I was especially concerned now that there have been so many thefts in the area, but that you refuse to listen to reason. You are stubbornly resisting taking proper security precautions. Then I lowered my voice and confided that just today you brought in a violin worth $50,000 for a local collector. I told them that he’s out of town right now, and you have to keep it at the shop in a safe that doesn’t even lock!
“You should have seen their faces and heard their gasps when I put that one out there.
“Then I dangled the biggest carrot of all right under their noses. I said the lock on the shop’s front door was faulty. I told them that I had tried to prove to you how useless it was by breaking into the shop using a piece of wire. But not even that would convince you.”
“What did they say to that?”
“There was more gasping and tut-tutting. They patted my back a few more times and told me not to let the situation upset me. They were sure you’d come to your senses. Then they excused themselves and left the restaurant. They didn’t even finish their lunch.”
“Well,” and Aunt Maude heaves a huge sigh, “if they’re the thieves, I think you’ve given them incentive to strike again.”
“Do you think they’re the robbers?”
“Honestly?” she says. “I don’t know. I have to admit that they intentionally draw attention to themselves, and that is a bit odd. But there have been so many robberies, I don’t see how they could have committed all of them.”
I nod. “I know what you mean. But even so, I still think they’re the crooks. Tonight will tell. The thieves usually lift people’s wallets, but they seem to be experts at breaking and entering too. And the antique shop is a ripe Okanagan peach just waiting to be picked. How can they resist?”
Aunt Maude rubs her hands together gleefully. “Well, it’s a clever plan regardless. I haven’t had this much fun since I tricked snooty Betty Smith into wolfing down a dog-food sandwich.”
I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. “You made someone eat a dog-food sandwich?”
“Well, I didn’t force-feed her, if that’s what you’re thinking. She ate it voluntarily. Of course, she didn’t know it was dog food until she was chewing the last bite.”
“Aunt Maude!” I exclaim. “That’s terrible.”
She shrugs. “Betty thought so too. She spent the next fifteen minutes in the bathroom, throwing up.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling. My great-aunt is one crazy lady.
“So what made you come downstairs last night?” I ask. “Did you hear me squeal?”
“I was only five feet behind you, so it was pretty hard to miss.”
“But you were sleeping,” I protest. “I heard you snoring.”
She peers at me over the top of her glasses. “I was snoring to make you think I was sleeping. I knew you were up to something.”
“How?” I demand indignantly.
“You’re not the only one who’s a detective, you know,” she scoffs. “You ran into the shop yesterday afternoon looking for Simon, and the rest of the day you were distracted. It was obvious that whatever had you distracted had something to do with him. When you went to bed early, I was sure of it. A late-evening liaison was in the wind. So I went along with the game. I pretended to be asleep and followed you downstairs. Then I listened at the door.”
“That’s eavesdropping!”
She shrugs. “I call it investigative supervision.”
“What if we’d been, you know, kissing or something?”
“Oh, please.” She waves away my objection. “He’s not your type.”
“How do you know what my—” My question is interrupted by the vibration of my phone in my pocket.
There’s a text from Simon. My heart skips a beat. I read it quickly and put my hand on Aunt Maude’s arm.
Then I lift a finger to my lips and whisper, “It’s happening.”
Chapter Twelve
“Someone’s trying to break in?” Aunt Maude gasps. “Really? You’re serious?”
“Really,” I tell her. “Right now. Simon says someone picked the lock on the front door faster than you can open it with the key. Time to call the police.”
I dial 9-1-1, and whispering into Aunt Maude’s phone, I explain the situation and provide the address. “Yes, there’s a robbery in progress right this minute.”
“What is your location?”
“Maude’s Antiques, 561 Main Street in Witcombe.”
“Is the intruder armed?”
“I don’t know.”
“What is your name, please?”
“Christine Dowler. My great-aunt owns the shop. She’s with me right now. I’m calling from the apartment above the shop.”
“Are either of you hurt?”
“No. We’re fine, but a friend is hiding in the shop downstairs, watching everything that’s happening.”
“Your friend’s name?”
“Simon Rasmussen.”
“Is he in immediate danger?”
“No. He’s hiding in a storage room.”
“Stay where you are. Do not confront the intruder. Officers are on their way.”
“Hurry, please.”
I turn off the phone. I don’t want to take the chance of it ringing. It might scare away the burglar.
Aunt Maude and I grab each other’s hands.
“Now what do we do?” she says.
“Wait for the police, I guess.” I bite my lip. “I’m worried about Simon. It wouldn’t be good if the thief discovered him.”
Now that our trap has been sprung, it seems much less like a game. If the burglar has a weapon, Simon could be in real danger. The thief is undoubtedly one of the Spence sisters. The twins look and act like sweet little old ladies, but they’re criminals, and it’s not unusual for criminals to carry guns. I say a silent prayer for the police to hurry up and for Simon to stay in hiding.
I scan the road outside, hoping to see the flashing lights of police cars. But there’s nothing. I strain to catch sounds from the shop below. Nothing there either.
“I can’t do this,” I say. “I can’t stay up here when something horrible could be happening downstairs.”
Aunt Maude grips my arm fiercely. “Well, you can’t go downstairs. The thief will see you for sure.”
“You’re right. You’re right.” I am trying to stay calm and slow my thoughts—which are currently flying through my head at warp speed. “I can’t. It would wreck everything. But I can look downstairs.”
“What do you mean, look?” Aunt Maude asks suspiciously.
“If I lie on the floor at the top of the stairs, I can see down into the shop. Then if Simon needs me, I’ll be ready.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Christine. I’m pretty sure your mother wouldn’t like this.”
I screw up my face in disbelief. “What are you talking about? You’ve never cared whether or not Mom approves.”
“That’s true,” she admits. “But I thought I should say something responsible. You can go—as long as you swear you’ll stay at the top of the stairs
.”
As Aunt Maude releases her iron grip on my arm, the tension leaves my body.
“But I’m going too,” she says.
“You can’t!” I shake my head vehemently. “It means lying on the floor, Aunt Maude. If we have to get up in a hurry, you’ll be toast.”
She sniffs. “Just because I have a few miles on me doesn’t mean I’m decrepit, my girl. Tomorrow we’ll have a push-up competition, and then we’ll see who the old lady is. Now stop arguing and let’s go.”
We take off our shoes and let ourselves into the hall. It’s pitch black, but we’ve been sitting in the dark for over an hour, so our eyes have adjusted. Just the same, we use the wall to guide us. As we near the stairs, we catch the glow of a flashlight.
There is no wall between the shop below and the stairs. They run parallel to the service counter and descend behind it. The burglar is heading straight toward them. There is no doubt the burglar is a woman. Her size and the way she moves give her away. Not that I can identify her. She’s dressed entirely in black—including the balaclava covering her head.
For a second I think she’s actually going to come upstairs. Talk about heart failure! All she has to do is direct the beam of her flashlight to the left, and we’ll be right in her sights. Aunt Maude and I stay pinned to the wall until she moves soundlessly behind the service counter. As I expect, she heads straight for the safe.
Aunt Maude and I lower ourselves quietly to our knees and then down onto our stomachs. We have to inch forward a bit to see around the wall and look down at the service counter.
The thief tugs open the door of the safe and flashes her light inside. By the agitated way the beam jumps from the inside of the safe to the surrounding shelves, it’s clear she doesn’t see a violin. Now that she knows she’s been duped, I expect her to cut her losses and make a run for it, but instead, she starts searching the rest of the shop.
Then I have a scary thought. What if she decides we took the violin upstairs for the night? No sooner do I think that than she turns around and starts for the stairs.
“Get up, Aunt Maude!” I whisper urgently. “She’s coming up here!”
The words are barely out of my mouth when a siren wails, and a police car screeches to a halt in front of the store. I see its flashing blue and red lights right through the blinds. The cavalry has arrived.
The woman stops, but as soon as a policeman—Bill, I think—bursts through the front door, she bolts for the back. I know I should stay where I am, but I can’t let her get away, so I tear down the stairs. I get to the bottom just as she hauls open the back door and almost barrels into another policeman—Andy. Bill strides quickly across the shop and cuffs her hands behind her back.
It’s over. I collapse against the wall as Simon switches on the lights and Aunt Maude makes her way down the stairs. Bill and Andy turn the burglar around and start leading her to the front of the store. The trio stops at the stairs, and Andy pulls the balaclava from the woman’s head.
“Do you folks know this lady?” he says.
It’s clearly one of the twins, but again, I have no idea which one.
“Agatha?” Aunt Maude makes a guess.
The woman shakes her head.
“Hilary then.”
The woman smiles. “Neither, actually. I’m Esther. How do you do?”
As Simon, Aunt Maude and I sit down to breakfast the next morning, we’re still shaking our heads.
“Triplets,” Aunt Maude says for at least the twentieth time. It’s strange enough seeing identical twins—but identical triplets? I still can’t get my head around it. But it explains so much. I really should have been suspicious when Mrs. Thatcher said she thought she had run into Agatha in the street. It was Esther she’d bumped into, and that’s when she’d had her wallet stolen. But the robbery happened so close to where the other two sisters were that it compromised their alibi. So Agatha said she’d also been robbed in order to throw the police off the scent. That was pretty quick thinking.
“I know what the sisters did was against the law, but part of me can’t help admiring them. While Esther was picking pockets and breaking into motel rooms and cottages, Hilary and Agatha were creating the perfect alibi. Nobody would ever suspect little old ladies of running a crime ring.”
“I suspected them,” I mumble through a mouthful of toast.
“You just got lucky.” Simon laughs. “You suspected me too. Remember? And anyway, it was my master plan that flushed them out.”
“But it wouldn’t have worked if I wasn’t such a convincing actress,” I retort.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Stop squabbling right now, both of you,” Aunt Maude scolds. “We were all wonderful. And now that the police have collected the loot the sisters hid at Greeley House, the triplets are off to jail.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been pulling this scam all across Canada,” I say.
Aunt Maude drops more bread into the toaster. “Well, I hope all the victims get their money back. I’m sure they’ll all be more careful in the future. I know I will be. I’ve already made an appointment with a security company to set up an alarm system in the shop and get a new lock set.”
“That’s great!” I say and give her a high five.
Simon frowns. “Does that mean you won’t need my services anymore, then?”
Aunt Maude winks at me and smiles at Simon. “Certainly not. The best security system in the world is no substitute for a good night watchman—especially one who knows magic.”
Kristin Butcher’s other Orca Currents titles have been on recommended-reading lists such as the PSLA Top 40 (Cheat) and the YA Quick Picks nominee list (Caching In). Kristin lives in Campbell River, British Columbia. For more information, visit www.kristinbutcher.com.
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For more information on all the books in the Orca Currents series, please visit
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