The Stolen Letter

by Paige Shelton

Very quietly, so she wouldn’t hear, I said, “It’s Delaney Nichols, but that’s okay.”

  She kept walking and I hurried back to Rosie.

  TWENTY

  I searched in vain for Mary and Lyle, but the crowd cleared quickly. Rosie waited for me right by the streetlight; there weren’t many others around by the time I made it to her. We walked to a bus stop, boarded, and then walked slowly to her flat after we disembarked.

  “Do we need to look more closely at the queen’s life to understand this Mary? Do you think history is repeating?” I asked as we meandered under clear skies.

  “It is all odd, and the explosion is certainly suspicious, but Mary Stewart isnae a real queen, even if she was one at one time,” Rosie said.

  “Do you think she was?”

  Rosie laughed. “Lass, I have no idea.”

  “Do you think the queen killed her second husband?”

  “The proper question is do I think she conspired tae have her husband kil’t. No, lass, I dinnae think that at all, but I’m Scottish, aye. I think she was treated horribly by almost everyone, including her second and third husbands. If we’re trying tae see if there are similarities, think about something else too. We met Henry. He cooked us dinner. I thought he was a lovely man. Didnae you?”

  “I did. Until I heard he wanted to shut down the bookshop.”

  “Aye,” she said, doubt lining the word.

  “What?”

  “I would bet more of Edwin’s money that the answer as to why he wanted the bookshop closed and why he was killed are one and the same.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I’m not sure, except that it’s all happened at the same time. Find the connection, or let the police find the connection, and we’ll know all the answers.”

  “Sounds simple.” I smiled.

  “If it were easy, everyone would do it, not just a redheaded lass in a Scottish bookshop.”

  I laughed. “I sensed your doubt tonight. Was is all just a bunch of bunk to you?”

  “No, not all of it.” She sent me a half smile. “I do think there’s something tae past lives, but I dinnae ken what exactly. Maybe our spirits do travel from body to body, or maybe our memories, our experiences are just too strong tae die. I think it’s more something like that. My ‘memories’ of being aboard the Titanic might have just been someone else’s that the universe didnae want tae die, so the memories were then passed along. There’s much we dinnae ken.”

  “That’s a lovely idea.”

  We’d arrived at the door to her building. “We need to somehow stop the bookshop from closing. That needs to be our goal. The other answers will come from that.”

  “Ye think ye will find the killer that way?”

  “I hope the police find the killer.The sooner the better. I do think I’m going to go to Mary’s house again. She hasn’t returned my call, and I want to talk to her. Want to come with me in the morning to talk to her?”

  “No, lass. I’m afraid I wouldnae do ye much good. I’m too focused on finding that paperwork. Take Elias or Tom.”

  “Will do.”

  Rosie laughed once. “I ken ye wonder where my anger is. It’s here.” She put her fist to her gut. “Just as strong as yers. Like a rock in my stomach. I can barely stand it. I just don’t want Edwin tae see it. If the shop closes, it will be worse for him because of the rest of us than for him personally.”

  I nodded. I wasn’t going to be able to hide anything, so I didn’t make any promises to such.

  Rosie stepped up onto a stair. “Ye’ll be late coming in tomorrow then?”

  “I think I will.”

  Rosie took another step, but then stopped and turned to look at me again. “Maybe Mary did kill her husband. She might be dangerous.”

  “I think I can talk Tom into joining me.”

  “Aye. G’night, lass. Sleep well.”

  “I’ll walk you in.”

  “No, no. I’m fine. And I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I hooked my arm through hers. “I won’t stay. I just want to say goodnight to Hector.”

  “Aye.” She gave me a weary smile as she pulled my arm closer to her.

  I made sure she got inside. Hector took care of her from there. My friend Rosie was sad, maybe a little scared, definitely angry. I hadn’t realized how much until this evening. That almost upset me more than anything else. I should know how to read these things by now.

  I left her flat and sent one more glance up to her front window.

  “I’ll fix this, Rosie,” I said. Even though she hadn’t heard, I felt a wave of guilt wash through me. What if I couldn’t?

  What if no one could?

  TWENTY-ONE

  “Hang on,” I said as I put my hand on Tom’s arm.

  He stopped the car just short of turning up and onto the driveway.

  “You’re having second thoughts?” he asked.

  “More like twentieth thoughts,” I said. “I’ve been wrestling with this all night. We really shouldn’t bother her. It’s too soon. It’s almost cruel.”

  Tom steered the car to the side of the street. He turned and looked at me.

  “Delaney, you are not even close to cruel. I understand why you might not want to do this, but I think we should. I think it’s the only way for you to get any peace. Perhaps she can’t help. She might not know about Henry’s desire to close the shop, but this is the best way to find out. Apologize and tell her you won’t interrupt her day for long. If she breaks down, we’ll apologize again and leave her be. It’s okay to do this, it really is.”

  I’d tossed and turned all night and had been distracted over breakfast. Had I thrown Tom for his marriage’s first loop? His support was wonderful, but were his encouraging words for my sanity or his, or both? And did it matter anyway? As we both navigated this new thing called marriage, hopefully I would handle his first bump as supportively as he’d handled mine.

  “Thanks,” I said, letting it soak in again how lucky I was. I took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Good.” Tom smiled and put the car back into gear.

  Knocking on the castle replica’s door during the daytime was different than at night. Oddly, the structure seemed more fortress-like under the diffused light from the cloudy sky. At night, the scene was theatrical and appealing. During the day, it was cold and foreboding. Nevertheless, I knocked before Tom could, only to prove I was up for the task. He sent me a knowing nod and another smile.

  The door opened slowly. I didn’t think I’d had any expectation as to who might be on the other side, but I was surprised that Mary herself was the one to greet us.

  “Oh. Hello,” she said as she pulled the door even wider.

  “Hi, Mary,” I said. “We’re so sorry to bother you during this time. We’re sorry about Henry.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a distinct question to her voice. “You returned my call. Thank you. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to you again.”

  She looked much worse than she had the night before; more tired and even thinner. But she’d had to put on a show last night, entertain. I looked at Tom who nodded me on.

  “Mary, do you have a few minutes? I know this is a bad time, but could we talk inside?”

  “Aye. Come in.”

  She pulled the door and we followed her toward the large round table. There were no fresh flowers on it today. There were no flowers anywhere, which I thought was strange. Usually death brought flowers. There were no chairs on this level, and she didn’t invite us up to the next. Instead, she seemed uncomfortable and looked at us expectantly.

  “Why did you call me?” I asked. “Can I help you with something?”

  “I imagine I called you for the same reason you called me back.”

  When she didn’t continue, I said, “You know where I work, of course.”

  She nodded.

  “Did you ever talk with Henry about his plans for The Cracked Spine?”

  She deflated an
d leaned against the table. “Aye, Delaney, I did, but not until after you all left that night. Henry was stunned that I had met my doppelgänger, surprised by where you worked. He had no idea that his wife’s lookalike worked at the bookshop he was responsible for planning to shut down.”

  “Oh, Mary, why did he want the bookshop closed?” I said.

  She shrugged. “From what I could understand, it wasn’t something he wanted, but something that had to happen.”

  I blinked and frowned. “Did the fact that you and I look alike change anything?”

  “Well, building codes and all…”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the structure of the buildings that house the bookshop and its offices!” My raised voice echoed up the entryway all the way to the upper floor and probably down to the gallows too, if there were any.

  “Of course, there is,” Mary said. “Henry said an inspection had taken place.”

  “There’s been no inspection,” I said, working hard not to clench either my jaw or my fists. “Before that, do you remember if the bookshop ever came up in conversation? There must have been another reason.”

  She’d blinked when I’d yelled, gotten flustered when I mentioned the lack of an inspection. Now she fell into weary thought. “I don’t think so. I don’t remember if it did. I had no idea. I know you might think there was some sort of setup going on that night, but there wasn’t, I promise.”

  “Why did you choose to bring your books to my bookshop?” I said.

  She looked at me. “Well. Someone might have mentioned the bookshop to me, but I’m not exactly sure who, except that I’m one hundred percent positive that it wasn’t Henry. Delaney,” she looked back and forth between Tom and me, “let me finish. After you left that night Henry told me about the council’s plans and the inspection—okay, so that’s what he told me, I can’t prove one way or another whether an inspection happened—but, what I’m saying is that we talked about it. And I really do think he was going to try to call off the vote. He liked you and Rosie and Tom so much that he was going to make a case for giving your boss a chance to make structural changes.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” she said. “And then he was killed.”

  She looked at me. Accusation both dulled and lit her eyes.

  “Mary, none of us killed Henry. We didn’t know the details of the council’s plans until after he was killed.”

  I didn’t like her insinuations. Neither did Tom; he crossed his arms in front of himself.

  “No, no, I believe that neither of you knew. But…” She stood straighter. “Edwin MacAlister knew. And from what Henry said, he wasn’t happy at all, threatening to sue, get Henry removed from the council, offering bribery.”

  I stalled mentally. This was new information, right? Edwin hadn’t admitted that he’d done any of that, just that he’d had a phone call, a recorded one at that. And, he was out of town, allegedly in Glasgow. I hadn’t pressed, but I had wondered what in the heck he was doing in Glasgow while our entire world was falling apart. Had he purposefully not told us about his threats?

  “Edwin didn’t kill Henry either,” I finally said.

  “Are you sure about that?” she said.

  “Yes. Completely.”

  “Well, whoever did kill Henry stopped him from attempting to stop the vote. There’s nothing to be done now.”

  “Nothing? What about Mikey?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Mikey doesn’t see any reason it should be stopped. He thinks Henry was being too emotional about wanting to change directions. Henry met you all at dinner and enjoyed your company. In Mikey’s mind, that’s not enough to invalidate a valid inspection.”

  “There wasn’t an inspection,” I repeated.

  Mary shrugged, but not unsympathetically.

  “Maybe Mikey killed Henry,” I said. It was a cruel, low blow.

  She frowned and crossed her arms in front of herself, matching Tom’s pose. “I only spoke with him about all of this after Henry was killed. He didn’t know Henry was going to try to stop the vote. I was trying to help you too. Ultimately, that’s why I wanted to talk to you, to tell you that I was sorry, and Henry was sorry too. But there was nothing to be done to save the bookshop now. I wanted you to know Henry was sorry.” Her voice cracked.

  I blinked at her. Okay, so she hadn’t been calling to warn me about Inspector Buchanan. I was so, so angry, so frustrated, but she was trying to do the right thing, at least in her mind. I couldn’t muster up any kind words, but I did manage a nod.

  “Mary,” Tom jumped in. “Thank you for that. Please, if you can think of any other way for us to save the bookshop, stop the vote, let us know. We’d be forever in your debt. We are sorry for your loss.”

  “Yes, we are,” I said. I wished I sounded as sincere as she and Tom had.

  Mary nodded too.

  I tried to calm my insides before I reached out and put my hand on her arm. “Mary, do the police have any idea who killed Henry?”

  “No,” she said, her voice tightening with emotion now. “And, just so you know, I haven’t said one word about Edwin MacAlister to the police. You can show yourselves out.”

  She turned and hurried up the stairs as we blinked at her back.

  “Thank you for your time,” Tom called after her. “Again, we are sorry.”

  I had so much more I wanted to talk to her about, but we had been dismissed. I wanted to ask about her friendship with Lyle Mercado. I wanted to tell her I’d been there last night. But I wasn’t ready to chase her through her own house. Tom and I left, closing the castle door quickly but softly behind us.

  “I think we need to talk to Edwin,” Tom said quietly as we made our way to his car.

  “Couldn’t agree more.”

  We made it back to the bookshop in record time.

  TWENTY-TWO

  “Inspector Buchanan,” I said as I came though the bookshop’s door. Tom had dropped me off. I hadn’t noticed a police car out front. I couldn’t help but steal a glance out the window to see if I’d missed it.

  “I walked,” she said. “I like to walk. It’s good for the mind and body.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  From behind the inspector, Rosie sent me a smirk. No one else was in the bookshop and I sensed that the inspector knew exactly the expression on Rosie’s face. Rosie normalized before she could be caught though.

  “Do you usually arrive at work at this time of the morning?” Inspector Buchanan asked as she worried her thumb over a piece of paper she held.

  I bit down on what I really wanted to say—that it was none of her business—and just said, “Can I help you with something?”

  “I’m going to be your favorite person today,” she said.

  “You are?”

  “I am. You have quite the reputation at the police station at the bottom of the Royal Mile.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “They all seem to know you, and believe it or not, many of them like you.”

  “I’m happy to hear that.”

  “I couldn’t reach Inspector Winters, but I had some good discussions with the other officers at the station. They assured me that Inspector Winters would do everything he could to help you keep your bookshop open, that it would be a terrible shame to see it closed.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” I hoped, at least. I moved closer to her as Hector trotted to my feet. I picked him up and scratched behind his ears.

  “There is a vote set to take place that will determine the fate of your fair bookshop, though. On Monday,” Inspector Buchanan said.

  “We’ve figured that out.”

  “I thought you might have. I didn’t know how much more you could figure out on your own though.” She looked at the piece of paper. “I brought you a few names.”

  “Names?”

  “Councilors who were particularly adamant about voting to close the bookshop. You see, people have to tell me things because I’m investigating a murder, and I have
learned some things, perhaps a sort of map even—a map that includes these names.”

  I wasn’t following completely but I nodded her forward.

  “Here’s what I know so far—well, what I can share with you. Henry made a few phone calls to some fellow councilors the night after your dinner with him. I am speculating that he wanted to try to cancel the vote to close this bookshop. How about that?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Mary. His wife told me that he talked about it that night. I’m putting two and two together. It’s what I do.”

  Hearing it from her made it much more real than hearing it from Mary, but the news coming at me two times in the last hour lifted my hopes to a level I wasn’t previously sure they could ever reach. Those hope bubbles floated in my mind again.

  “That’s wonderful!” I said.

  “Ah, right, so it is. That doesn’t mean the vote’s been canceled. Others seem to still want the vote to happen, think it’s the right thing to do, considering the inspection and all.”

  “There was no inspection,” I said.

  “Well, I’m still working on that, but the councilors believe there was one and that the bookshop failed it. Now, I need something from you before I can help you more.”

  My hopes were dashed a little but I said, “Okay.”

  Hector barked once.

  “I need you to tell me where you were overnight, after the dinner.”

  I shouldn’t talk to her about this without an attorney, but her blackmail was working. I wanted that list of names, even though I still wasn’t quite sure what I would do with it. “Home, with my husband. Sleeping mostly. We didn’t know about the bookshop issue and it had been an enjoyable dinner. I was tired. I slept well.”

  “They’re newlyweds,” Rosie said cheerfully.

  I smiled at her.

  “Can anyone besides your husband confirm that?”

  “No … I mean, yes, my landlord, Elias, came over to give us some rolls that his wife, Aggie, had made. He wakes up early. He woke us up as he put them right outside our door. I went out and grabbed the rolls before he got back into his cottage. The rolls are the best when they’re warm. I stuck my head out and thanked him. He could confirm, but that’s the best I can do.”