“She was worried.”
“Understandable.”
As we finished the pastries, I thought about telling him about the puzzle that was sitting on my kitchen table. I don’t really know why I didn’t, except for that instinct in my chest that sometimes tightens as a warning held me back. Or maybe it was because I’d gathered it when he was in the other room at Jenny’s and I hadn’t told him about it at the time. Now seemed too late. Or I just needed to keep the secret from him a little longer.
Edwin continued, “You’re bound tae have uncovered some less-than-flattering details about some or all of us. I suppose Rosie is the only one without skeletons in her closet. She hasn’t lived a boring life, but she certainly has lived one beyond reproach. I hope you don’t make any sort of hasty judgment about any of us based upon the dirty laundry you’ve discovered.”
“Not at all,” I said. “I wouldn’t judge anyway. Not my style.”
“I often say that we should only be judged on two things: if we’re kind, and if we read books. Kindness is priority number one, but the books part is important too. If you don’t read, I know you are someone who needs a reader tae show you the light. If you read, then surely you have a favorite-books list tae share. I collect favorites lists.”
“I like that.”
“Now, tell me about the date with the young lad Tom. Did you two recognize the sparks that I heard were flying between the two of you?”
My face reddened. “Oh. Well, I’m not exactly sure yet. I had a great time, but I don’t know about the sparks.” I trailed off.
And then Edwin did something that I hadn’t heard him do since the phone interview. He laughed a big, hearty laugh, a sound that came from deep in his gut.
“Oh, Delaney, you are transparent.” He leaned forward. “Tom is a wonderful lad. I am pleased that the two of you had a good evening and that the sparks were there—no matter how hard you try, you can’t hide the fact, lass—but be wary that we have yet tae see him interested in anything of a permanent nature.”
“I’ve heard that a few times, and I understand completely,” I said. “We just met. I’ll need at least one more date to begin to think about anything permanent myself.”
“That’s the way,” Edwin said. “Now, let’s get tae work.”
Rosie was at the shop. She said she’d seen Edwin and me go into the pastry shop just before she arrived at the store. She was happy to see that Edwin was fine, but she didn’t hide her irritation at his lack of communication the day before. He apologized and she behaved as if she might accept his apology at some point, but not right away. Hector sat on the front desk with his back to Edwin as if he was mad at him too. Edwin scratched behind his ears, and Hector forgave him immediately. Rosie rolled her eyes at the dog.
“Ye have something in the back, Delaney,” she said. “They came right after I unlocked the door.”
A giant bouquet of white roses sat in a vase on the back table.
“Oh,” I squeaked when I saw them. This was not going to help my don’t-get-serious resolve.
I pulled the card from between two stems and read, Thank you for the lovely evening. I can’t wait until our second date. Next time I’ll wear the kilt.
“Bonnie, aren’t they?” Rosie said from over my shoulder. “I presume the date went well.”
“It did.”
“Rosie?” Edwin said from the front of the store. “Where’s Hamlet?”
“He called and asked if he could take the morning off tae fill in at the play. The lad playing Macduff took ill.”
“I thought they had a few actors who could play Macduff in the mornings,” Edwin said absently.
There was something about his tone that made me put the card on the table and follow Rosie back up to the front of the store. Edwin stood by the front window and looked out.
“What is it, Edwin?” Rosie said.
“It’s odd. Hamlet has never … I’m sorry. Delaney, how would you like tae catch a performance?”
“Sounds great.”
“Rosie, will you be fine by yourself for a while?”
“Aye, if ye answer yer mobile when I ring.”
“He will,” I said. “I promise.”
TWENTY-SIX
It wasn’t exactly sunny outside, but it wasn’t raining yet as Edwin found a spot to park the car. He grabbed an umbrella from the back and we made our way over the greenest grass I’d ever seen. I peered up at the castle and the Royal Mile, the high perch of the original city’s location on the hill, and tried to take my imagination back in time to when the park had been the loch where the citizens dumped their waste. There was nothing appealing or romantic about the idea, and no way to apply the historical version to today’s groomed lawn and shrubs. I was grateful those times had passed.
“This way,” Edwin said.
We walked toward a stage that was set up in the middle of the wide grassy space. The stage was a real stage, with a curtain and an enclosed space behind for the actors. Simple folding chairs were set up for the audience. The chairs rode up a slope so that there were no bad seats.
Edwin pointed at the back row at the end. We found chairs just as fake thunder boomed (I did have to look around to make sure it wasn’t real) and the witches entered.
I knew this play well, almost every Shakespearean word of it. These were characters that had spoken to me since high school. Liking Shakespeare at my high school hadn’t been a “cool” thing to do so I’d kept my admiration under wraps with the hope not to add to my nerdy reputation. Once I got to college, though, I threw caution to the wind and without reservation or the need to hide what I was reading I engrossed myself in the man and his words. Of course I’d never told anyone there just how real the characters and voices were to me, how they and their words spoke to me, even if it was just my imagination. It wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t all that complicated either. But it was different. Now wasn’t the time to ponder if the characters in my head had taken their final bow, but I did give it a passing thought.
I concentrated on keeping my lips from moving along with the actors’ words. Until Act II, Scene III, when Macduff entered with Lennox. Apparently Edwin knew the play too. We both sat up a little straighter and looked at each other. Macduff was not being played by Hamlet, our Hamlet who worked at The Cracked Spine and the actor we’d come to see perform.
Where was our coworker? As unobtrusively as possible, Edwin and I moved away from the stage. Once far enough away that we wouldn’t disturb the performance, Edwin pulled out his mobile and called Hamlet first, leaving a message, and then Rosie.
“I see,” he said. “Aye, I’ll call you later.”
“Is he okay?” I asked.
Edwin shrugged. “Rosie hasn’t heard from him.”
“Maybe he just didn’t update her on his plans.”
“It’s a possibility. I need tae run by his dormitory. I’m sure he’s fine, but I’m concerned … about a few things. I need tae see if I can find him. Would you mind if I put you into a cab and meet up with you at the shop later?”
“No! I want to go with you. I want to make sure he’s okay too. If you two need to have a private conversation I’ll step away, but I’d like to come with you.”
I thought he’d argue, but a second later acceptance crossed his face.
“All right then. Let’s go.”
Before this trip Edwin had been driving cautiously. Now he reminded me more of Elias.
We darted in and out of lanes and around other cars, Edwin’s sure hands pulling the steering wheel each and every direction. The Citroën didn’t have a handle to hold on to, so I had to work even harder to keep my balance with my feet on the floorboard, while at the same time trying to reach Hamlet on his mobile.
He didn’t answer, and I was relieved to arrive in one piece as Edwin pulled the car into a space next to the curb that wasn’t meant to be parked in.
“It’s fine. I’d rather pay a ticket than take the time tae search for a space.”
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We hurried out of the car, and I followed him into the student housing building that was surprisingly modern and set behind a not surprisingly old and turret-covered stone house.
We walked past the front desk and counter, the two students sitting behind it giving us only a cursory glance. The hallway was narrow but we didn’t have far to go. Edwin knocked on the third door on our left.
“Hamlet, it’s Edwin. You there?”
A second later the door opened, but it wasn’t Hamlet who greeted us.
“Edwin. I mean, Mr. MacAlister, hi.”
“Chaz, hello,” Edwin began.
I was suddenly struck by how different Hamlet truly was from his peers. He was probably the same age as the young man in the doorway, but that’s about where the similarity ended. Hamlet’s maturity was evident even when he wasn’t compared to his contemporaries, but blaring when another nineteen-year-old student stood in front of me.
Hamlet held himself like someone much older. He looked people in the eye with confidence. He spoke simply and paid attention to the conversation. Chaz needed some personal grooming, a brush and maybe a good shave, but those weren’t the biggest differences. Chaz stood less confidently and his eyes didn’t lock well with Edwin’s as he scratched behind his ear.
“Is Hamlet in?” Edwin said.
“No.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No.”
Edwin looked at me, grimaced, and then turned back toward Chaz. “Excuse me, Chaz, I think I need tae have a look around your room.”
“Uh,” Chaz said to Edwin’s back as the taller, older man made his way past the teenager.
When Chaz turned back to look at me, I smiled and then pushed past him too.
The room wasn’t all that messy. Neither of the beds was made, but other than that there was no scary pile of mystery college-aged-boy things anywhere. The room was two identical halves with beds, desks, and closets. Both of the desks held laptops and printers and a number of textbooks and papers.
Edwin stood next to what must have been Hamlet’s desk and inspected it without touching anything on it. I looked at it too, but I saw nothing that stood out as something important.
“When’s the last time you saw Hamlet?” Edwin asked Chaz.
“This morning, before classes,” he said as he sat on his bed. “What’s up?”
“Did he say anything about his day?” Edwin said.
“I don’t think so.” Chaz gave the question a moment’s thought. “He did say he was on his way tae work and wanted tae get there early tae search for something for a customer, but we didn’t talk about the details.”
“Did he talk about his play? The one in the park?”
“Not today.”
“Did he say something about it recently?”
“Just that he was having a great time with it, but he was worried it might dig into his work time. He said he might talk tae you about it.”
The look on Edwin’s face told me that they hadn’t had that conversation yet.
I stepped forward, knowing my contribution might not be welcome but thinking it might be necessary.
“Chaz, I work with Edwin and Hamlet. I’m Delaney. Has Hamlet been upset at all, maybe about the death of Edwin’s sister?”
“Oh, yeah! That’s right. I’m sorry, Mr. MacAlister. Yes, Hamlet was very upset. He was friends with Jenny—that’s her name, right? Yeah, he was tore up. He’d been tae see her the night before, I think, and he really thought a lot of her.”
“What time did he get home that night? The night he went to visit her?” I asked.
I’d had him. He was about to answer, but then he suddenly thought better of it. I could see the transformation in his eyes. He realized that this answer was important. He might not have been as savvy and mature as Hamlet, but he wasn’t dumb. He didn’t want to say something so important that he might jeopardize his roommate’s position with Edwin, personally or professionally, or both.
“I’m not sure,” he said.
“Think about it a minute,” Edwin said, his tone more firm than I expected.
“I can’t remember,” he said a good long moment later.
“Will you have him call me the minute you see him?” Edwin said, his tone still stern.
“Of course,” Chaz said sincerely. I got the impression that first Chaz would try to call Hamlet himself, probably the second we left the dormitory. I hoped he found him. I hoped someone found him soon.
Our pace was slower as we left the dormitory building. Edwin, concerned and thoughtful as we got into the Citroën, didn’t say much. He didn’t seem to want me to talk either as he drove us back to The Cracked Spine.
“I suppose it’s silly,” he finally said as he parked in a spot around from the shop. “Hamlet is nineteen. He isn’t required to check in with me all the time. Maybe he had plans he didn’t want me tae know about, so he used the play as an excuse. He is only nineteen after all. Sometimes boys will be boys.”
“I looked inside his closet and it didn’t seem like it had been partially emptied. If he’d gone anywhere for any length of time, he would have taken clothes and his laptop. He’s not far,” I said.
“Right,” Edwin said.
“Do you want to go talk to the police, Edwin? Tell them Hamlet may be missing? It might not be a bad idea,” I said. In fact, I thought it was the only good idea. Too many more questions had suddenly arisen, police-type questions.
Edwin sighed. “Maybe.”
“What about Benny?” I said.
“What about him?”
“You said he used to be a police inspector. Maybe he can help.”
“It’s a possibility.”
“I understand your commitment to your friends.”
“Let me find Hamlet—I think I’ll be able tae. Perhaps I’ll go talk tae Benny. Maybe later you and I can go talk tae the police together.”
“All right,” I said.
Edwin decided not to go into the shop. I reminded him to answer his mobile before he pulled away from the curb. He didn’t tell me his exact plans before he drove up the hill.
Rosie and Hector greeted me the second I walked inside. Rosie had the feather duster and she worked it frantically over the front shelves while Hector sat on the desk. Hector’s bangs had been pulled up and secured with a red ribbon. It was nice to see his friendly brown eyes as they looked up at me as if to tell me it was good to see me too.
“Oh, Delaney, did ye find him?” Rosie said.
“I’m afraid not, but we will, or his roommate, Chaz, will. I’m sure.”
“I’m sae worried. What if someone’s oot there killing all of Edwin’s family? They killed Jenny. Now, maybe they’ve killed Hamlet too. How terrible.”
I hadn’t even considered that angle. I didn’t think Edwin had either. And clearly Rosie hadn’t considered that Hamlet might have been hiding or involved in any way with Jenny’s murder.
“Oh, that’s unlikely,” I said as confidently as possible. “Hamlet knows how to take care of himself. I wouldn’t worry too much yet. Let’s give him some time. We all have days when we get busy with things and forget to check in with people who might wonder where we are, like Edwin did yesterday. I’m sure Hamlet’s fine. He’ll call in a little bit and think we’ve all gone off our rockers.” I attempted a weak laugh.
“I hope ye’re right,” Rosie said. The feather duster went back to its flurried work.
The door opened and the bell jingled. Normally the sound was cheery. It was more ominous today and I squelched a chill that ran up my spine.
“Oh, hello!” Rosie said before I could say anything.
The man who had come into the store was walking with the aid of a cane, and the left side of his face was one big bruise. I held back a gasp.
“Rosie?” the man said.
“Aye, come in. Delaney, this is the man I told ye about. The one who was hit by the coach. Regg Brandon.”
“Oh,” I said. I’d forgotten all a
bout the accident Rosie had witnessed. She’d been so upset at the time; I wish I’d remembered to ask her about it. “Are you okay, Mr. Brandon?”
“I’m fine.” He laughed. He was probably about Rosie’s age, but there was something sturdy about him, despite the cane and the bruises. His medium build was straight and topped off by wide shoulders. “I’m sore, but I didnae break anything, and I have no concussion. I’m a miracle, apparently.”
“I’d say,” I said. I remembered that Rosie had thought the accident had been the man’s fault. I wondered if that story had changed.
An instant later, I realized that Regg had come into the store for a social visit with Rosie. They looked at each other with shy smiles, and I sensed a romantic spark, and I felt like a giant third wheel.
“Nice to meet you, Regg. Excuse me, I have … something.”
Though it wasn’t that far away, I moved to the back corner, seeing again the flowers I’d forgotten about and hadn’t thanked Tom for yet. I turned around and interrupted Rosie and Regg, telling Rosie I was going to run up to the pub a second.
I hurried up the hill and peered in the window. Tom was at the bar, and a couple of very round customers were standing by one of the tall tables. From their back view, their vests made identical tweed circles.
Only Tom noticed me come through the doors. He’d been bent over slightly, but he straightened, smiled, and waved the second he saw me.
“Hi,” I said as I approached the end of the bar. I smiled as I passed the customers.
“Hi. How are you?” Tom said.
“I’m fine. I wanted to thank you for the flowers. They are lovely and a great surprise.”
“Rosie called me. She told me you were busy on an errand with Edwin but had seen them and had declared your love for me the moment you laid eyes on them.”
“Really?”
“No, but she said you liked them.”
“I do.”
“Good. That’s what I was hoping for.”
“Tom, can I ask you a few more questions about Hamlet?”
The Cracked Spine Page 22
