Crowned and Dangerous

by Rhys Bowen

  “Crook and squeal? Don’t you love the terminology? It’s like living in an American film,” Zou Zou said happily. “I am glad I decided to fly over to join you. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

  Chapter 35

  TUESDAY, DECEMBER 11

  News at last and hope that this may soon be all over.

  Mr. Lennox rose to his feet. “I’ll keep you informed as soon as we learn more,” he said. “We need to take a closer look at the corpse. It’s possible there are dental records or small scars on the body that would positively identify him. And in the meantime I’ll ask the local police to put their best effort into locating Professor Peabody, and I’ll certainly want to be present when they question Weasel McHenry.”

  Lord Kilhenny also stood up. “Thank you. I’m most grateful,” he said gruffly.

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  Lord Kilhenny was escorting him to the front door when there was a knocking.

  “What now?” we heard him bark as he opened the door.

  “Lord Kilhenny?” the voice said. “I’ve been asked by Chief Inspector Callahan to bring you to Dublin.”

  “What for this time, may one ask?” Darcy’s father’s voice was tense.

  “I can’t exactly say, sir. I was only told to bring in Lord Kilhenny. The chief inspector wishes to ask some further questions.”

  “We have been over this again and again,” Lord Kilhenny said angrily. “I have told the Garda everything that I know.”

  Darcy was out of his seat and joined his father in the front hall. “I’ll come with you, Father.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, sir,” the Garda constable said.

  “Father, you are to say nothing more without a lawyer present,” Darcy said. “You’ve already done yourself enough damage.”

  Lord Kilhenny hesitated. Mr. Lennox now also stepped behind Darcy. “I’m from the US embassy, and I thought we agreed that we would wait until we had more evidence from the States before we proceeded in this case. Why don’t I drive Lord Kilhenny to your headquarters and I can be present at any questioning, since it concerns my country.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.” The constable’s voice came again. “But I was told to fetch Lord Kilhenny and I have to do just that.”

  “Then I’ll come in a separate motorcar with you, Mr. Lennox,” Darcy said.

  The princess jumped up and ran out to them. “I have a better idea, Darcy. Why don’t I go with Mr. Lennox, and we can swing by to pick up Sir Grenville if we feel it’s necessary? You stay with Georgie. It will only annoy that inspector if too many of us are there.”

  “Oh no, Alexandra,” Darcy said, “I think it’s my place—”

  But Lord Kilhenny cut in, saying, “No, she’s right, my boy. You stay here with Georgie. If anyone can make that inspector behave like a civilized human being, it will be Alexandra.”

  Darcy turned to give me a quizzical look. “Very well, Father, if that’s what you want,” he said. We watched them go.

  “I do believe he’s sweet on her,” he said as he closed the door. “I hope it won’t lead to disappointment. She’s quite out of his league.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I rather suspect she has developed a soft spot for him.”

  “Only in the way that one does when one rescues a drowning kitten, I fear. She has a big heart.”

  I nodded and said nothing more.

  “So we were right about Mickey Riley,” Darcy said. “I knew that he’d never make a manservant. I hope they are able to pin the murder on him—” He broke off as there were footsteps outside and a loud rap on the knocker.

  “Now what?” Darcy said. “They’ve probably come back because Zou Zou has forgotten her powder compact.” He strode back to the door and opened it. Yet another Garda officer was standing there and there were two police vehicles in the lane.

  “I wonder if you can help us, sir,” the Garda constable said. “We were sent to bring in a man called Mickey Riley who was working at the castle. But the gate is locked and we can’t raise anyone inside to open it. So we wondered, is there perhaps another way in?”

  “Of course,” Darcy said. “Follow me.”

  I came too. I wasn’t about to be left out of the fun. Darcy led them to the little door in the wall.

  “Presumably you’ll need to get into the castle, won’t you?” he asked. “It doesn’t exactly have the sort of doors you can kick down.”

  “Can you help us with that, sir?”

  “I believe my father still has a key to the servants’ quarters,” Darcy said. “Let me go and see if I can find it.”

  “Much appreciated, sir. We’ll wait.”

  Darcy went back to the lodge. He wasn’t gone long and came out bearing a large key on a ring. As he passed me he said, “You wait inside, Georgie. This man may well be armed. I don’t want you in danger.”

  Then he led the Garda officers through the estate to the castle. Of course I followed behind. The grounds were soggy underfoot and we squelched through mud. Patches of snow still lingered under big Scotch pine trees. A bitter wind swept through the trees, rattling bare branches. Darcy led the way to the back of the castle, then went down a narrow flight of steps. They were moss covered and quite slippery. Water dripped down from above. He put the key in a weathered door and it opened with an ominous creak.

  “This leads through the cellars and up to the kitchen,” he said in a low voice. “You should go cautiously from here on. This man may be armed.”

  I saw the constables look at each other with concern. Darcy went into the dark interior with them. I was reluctant to follow but also too curious to stay behind outside. The passageway smelled damp and musty and very old. We passed rooms that looked more like dungeons than cellars. I suppose that was what they were once. Then up a winding stone stair and we were all at once in a mammoth kitchen with a flagstone floor and a row of copper pots hanging over an old-fashioned stove. There was no sign of food having been prepared recently. I remembered that Mickey had taken his meals at the pub. Maybe he was on his way there for his lunch now. I decided I should mention this and touched the nearest constable on the shoulder, making him yell out and leap as if burned. The others all reacted with fear. Darcy frowned when he saw me. “I told you to stay behind.”

  “I didn’t want to miss out on the fun,” I said. “And I wanted to mention that Mickey Riley has been taking all his meals at the pub recently. Have you asked about him there?”

  “We did,” one of them said. “The landlady says she hasn’t seen him since Wednesday night.”

  When Barney’s taxi went into the river. So my hunch was right. Or maybe he met up with Lofty and they killed Barney together. That gave them five whole days to be well clear of here. We went from the kitchen past the butler’s pantry, the laundry room, various storerooms.

  “He’s not down here,” one of Garda constables said. “Where would his bedroom be?”

  “Presumably on the third or fourth floor,” Darcy said and led us up a flight of stairs and through a baize door to the main part of the castle. Here we were in tall vaulted hallways. Banners and tapestries hung from the walls. It was bitterly cold. Clearly no fire had been lit for a long while, and the space had that abandoned feeling. I realized how hard it must be for Darcy to come back to his family home like this. The dining room, sitting room, several other reception rooms all lay cold and unoccupied. There was a pretty morning room at the back of the castle that had bigger windows and a view over the grounds to the distant hills. We went up a broad curved staircase to the next floor. Here was a gallery with a fireplace big enough to roast an ox at its center. The walls were decorated with displays of weapons—swords, spears, battle-axes and shields. Beyond it was the library where Bugsy’s body had been found.

  We went up again to bedrooms. At the back of the house was a nursery with an o
ld-fashioned rocking horse and a big dollhouse. I pictured Darcy riding that horse, a happy adventurous little boy until tragedy struck his family. Up a narrow stair this time and we were in a plain corridor of simple rooms. This dated back to the time when there were plenty of servants to make this vast place run smoothly. But none of the rooms showed any sign that it had been occupied recently. We all came to the same conclusion. Mickey Riley had fled.

  As the Garda vehicles drove away Darcy and I looked at each other, each thinking the same thing: the castle was unoccupied.

  “Now might be a good time to search for anything Mickey might have left behind, oh and the missing bonds and jewels.”

  “I thought you’d searched the place with Chief Inspector Callahan,” I said.

  “Another look can’t hurt,” Darcy said. “Are you game?”

  We went back inside and I followed him as he checked every known hiding place in the lower level, then the ground floor. We found nothing and ascended the staircase to the first floor.

  “I wonder if there was a reason he was killed in the library,” Darcy said, going into that room and switching on the electric light.

  “The club was lying on the table in there,” I said. “Remember your father picked it up that afternoon.”

  “I wonder why he was planning to sell it.” Darcy stared at the table as if willing the club to appear.

  “Maybe he was short of cash,” I suggested, making Darcy laugh. “With two million dollars in his pocket?” he asked me.

  “Maybe the majority of that heist wasn’t in the form of cash. Maybe he used the cash to buy the castle and racing stable. But we know he gambled on horse racing. Perhaps he had actually used up his money but couldn’t do anything with the bonds or jewelry for fear of giving himself away.”

  Darcy nodded. “That’s possible.” He looked around at the library walls. “Do you think we should check all the books to see if any of them have been hollowed out? They’d make good hiding places, wouldn’t they?”

  I stared around the book-lined walls in dismay. “That would take forever.”

  “I’m going to start on it anyway,” he said. “Some of these big tomes here.” He lifted down a large leather-bound book.

  “I don’t think he’d go to all that trouble in his own house,” I said. “There must be easier places.”

  I walked back out into the long gallery, staring up at the weapons on the walls. Then my eye moved to the great fireplace. If I wanted to hide something might I not shove it up a chimney? As I walked toward it I saw something shining ahead of me as a shaft of slanted sunlight suddenly shone in through a window. It was one of the knobs of the big brass fender. The strange thing was that the other knob was dull and dusty. Which made no sense, unless . . .

  “Darcy!” I called. “Look at this!”

  Darcy came to join me.

  “This knob has been polished, but the one at the other end hasn’t. Why do you think that is?”

  “Someone had reason to wipe it clean,” he said slowly. I nodded. “What if he wasn’t killed with the club at all? What if he was pushed or fell backward and hit his head on the fender?”

  “But that could be classed as an accident,” Darcy said. “Why turn it into a crime?”

  “Because someone wanted to make it look as if your father was guilty, because he had the good motive. Everyone here knew he was sacked after the doping scandal. It would be a local crime and nobody would look into American connections too deeply.”

  “Perhaps they hadn’t meant to kill Roach at all,” Darcy went on. “Perhaps there was a struggle when this Lofty fellow showed up and wanted a share of the profits and threatened to expose Roach.” He got down on his knees and examined the Persian rug on the floor. Then he lifted it and gave a small cry of glee. “We’re right, Georgie. Look, some blood has seeped through to the other side. He did die here. And was dragged or carried through to the library, where blood from the wound was transferred onto the club.”

  “Unfortunately that doesn’t prove that your father didn’t do it,” I said. “He could easily have shoved Bugsy. We have to just pray that they find the other two gang members.”

  “And that they talk,” Darcy said grimly. Then he added, “You know, I’m sure the library used to be bigger. Not just because I remember it as a child. My sister and I used to build forts with books when my father wasn’t around and we would both lie on the floor over there. Now there isn’t enough room.” He stopped, thinking. Then he went to the far wall, pulled out some books and rapped on the back of the bookcase. It made a hollow sort of sound.

  “Look at this, Georgie,” Darcy exclaimed. “These shelves are newly made—not from good old oak like the rest, but ordinary pine.”

  I ran over to join him. We pulled out more books and in the corner there was a lever. Darcy pulled on it and books fell to the floor as a section of bookshelf swung open. Behind it was a narrow space stacked with boxes.

  “What’s the betting these are the bonds?” Darcy said. “I wonder if there are any jewels in here too.”

  “Be careful,” I said as he squeezed himself into the space. “It’s awfully dark in there.”

  “Bring the table lamp over,” he said. “It has a long cord. That will give me more light.”

  I picked it up and held it as close as I could to the narrow opening.

  “They are bonds all right,” he said. He opened a suitcase and whistled. “And US dollar bills as well. Look at these. Hundred-dollar bills! Of course, he couldn’t change US currency over here. But I don’t see any jewels, unless . . .”

  “How convenient,” said a voice behind us. “So good of you to do the spadework for me.”

  I almost dropped the lamp I was holding as I spun around. A woman was standing a few feet away from me, holding a gun that was pointed directly at me. I blinked as I recognized her. The American reporter who had shown such an interest in me.

  “You really have made it easy for me,” she said. “Showing me the way into the castle. Trust me, I’ve tried to get in ever since I arrived in Ireland. Just hand me that suitcase with the cash in it, honey. I don’t think I’ll bother with the bonds. Too messy. And I expect I’ll find the jewels if I look long enough. There was a bag of cut diamonds and another one of rubies. Small enough to hide almost anywhere.”

  “I know who you are,” I blurted out. “You must be Lola Martinez, Bugsy’s girlfriend.” So that was why the blond hair had looked wrong on her. She didn’t have the skin tone for it.

  “Ex-girlfriend, honey,” she said. “I set the whole thing up for him, then the rat disappeared and left me without a bean. I thought he’d drowned. I couldn’t believe it when I heard from Dr. Meyer that he was alive and in Ireland.”

  “So you came and killed him.”

  “Me? Hey, I didn’t kill him,” she said. “I might have, if I’d found a way to get into this place. But Lofty must have got to him first.” She frowned. “But I don’t have time to hang around chatting with you. Give me the suitcase.”

  She was waving the gun at me impatiently. Darcy passed it to me and I to her. I was trying desperately to think of anything I could do to stop her, but Darcy was trapped behind me in the narrow space and I was holding a lamp in one hand. What was more, my brain was refusing to cooperate. It seemed the only safe thing to do was comply. I held out the suitcase. She snatched the case from me. “Put down that lamp,” she commanded. I put it down. “Get in there.”

  Then without warning she shoved me backward. As I lost my footing and staggered she pulled on the lever. The section of wall swung shut and we were in total darkness.

  Chapter 36

  TUESDAY, DECEMBER 11

  IN KILHENNY CASTLE.

  Darcy flung himself at the section of wall but it was too late. It had snapped shut. We felt around desperately trying to find a latch on our side but the wood appeared to b
e smooth. If there was a secret way to open the door from the inside, we couldn’t find it.

  “I wonder how thick that wood is and whether we can kick our way out,” he said. He tried, then muttered a curse. “There’s not enough room to exert any force. And I can’t straighten my leg.”

  “We’ll be all right, won’t we?” I tried to sound more confident than I felt. “Your father and the princess will be back and come looking for us.”

  “How would they ever think of looking for us here?” I heard the tension in his voice. “And if they were in this room would they necessarily find the lever that opened the wall?”

  “We’d hear them coming and shout,” I said.

  “If we haven’t passed out from lack of oxygen by then,” Darcy said. That hadn’t occurred to me before. We were essentially sealed into a small space. We’d use up the air supply quickly.

  “Could we climb on those boxes and see if we can punch our way out through the ceiling?” I asked.

  “Good idea.”

  We fumbled around in total darkness and I heard Darcy’s ragged breath as he hauled himself up. Then he said, “It’s no use. I can’t reach the ceiling. It was pretty high in this room.”

  He slithered down again.

  “There must be some way . . .” I began but I couldn’t think of one. “I love you, Darcy,” I whispered. “If I’ve got to die, I’m glad it’s with you.”

  He slipped an arm around me. “I wonder why I don’t find that a comforting thought,” he whispered. I rested my head against him, feeling his cheek against mine, and the realization struck me that I might now never know what it was like to be made love to by him. Such a waste. All those times I’d stopped him. And now . . .

  “We’ll think of something,” he said. Even through the thickness of the wall we heard an almighty crash. And a scream. Then as we waited, alert and ready, the wall swung open and we blinked in the light. Queenie stood before us, her eyes as wide as saucers, her face a mask of terror. “Blimey, miss, I thought you was a goner,” she said.