Two Birds with One Stone (A Marsden-Lacey Cozy Mystery Book 1) (15 page)

Chapter 27

“WHAT HAPPENED TO THE BOOK?”
Johns asked at the top of his lungs.

Constable Waters and Constable Cross came running from
opposite corners of the station.

There on the table lay the empty manila envelope. No book
anywhere.

“We only left the room five minutes ago,”
he continued to
bellow with an increasingly crimson face.

“Sir, no one else has been in the building,”
Constable Waters
offered.

“That
’
s right, sir. I
’
ve
been up at the front desk and it
’
s been so quiet today.
Only staff has been here unless you consider the two women you showed out,”
Cross added.

“Go bring them back here. Now!”
Johns said it so loudly that both
Cross and Waters jumped. “Go!”

Both constables hurried from the room and out to the parking
lot where they found Helen and Martha still trying to bring the Mini Cooper
through the impound lot. They waved the ladies over and asked with remarkable
composure if they would please return to the station.

The girls shrugged, got out of the car and followed
Constable Waters back into the building while Constable Cross searched the car.

Chief Johns waited for them in the lobby. His face was red
and he had never looked more like an irascible, angry bulldog than he did
waiting for them to be brought back in.

“What
’
s the problem now?”
Martha asked and
then sighed as she put her purse down on one of the waiting room chairs.

“Mrs. Littleword and Mrs. Ryes, Constable Waters would like
to see you ladies individually in a dressing room,”
Johns said.

“What
’
s this all about?”
Helen demanded.

“The book is gone. Disappeared right after you two left the
room.”

In perfect unison they both hotly denied, “It wasn
’
t us. We didn
’
t take it.”

“That is yet to be seen.”
He jabbed toward the dressing rooms with a pointed finger.

“I cannot believe this. You actually believe we would steal
that book? Where in the world do you think we have it hidden on our bodies?”
Helen asked with
both hands on her hips.

Martha stood there glowering at Johns with her arms crossed.
“Helen, he thinks we
’
ve stuffed it in our undergarments.”

Johns gave Martha a sour, tight-lipped look then jerked his
head in the direction of the dressing rooms, indicating Waters should get on
with the job.

“Fine. You may strip us bare, if that
’
s
what it takes to be freed from this place, Helen declared like a spirited
suffragette who was about to be mishandled by the cretinous police.

Constable Waters showed them each to a dressing room and,
with an apologetic tone, said, “I
’
m sorry, but you will
have to disrobe and put on the gowns. Please leave your things on the table and
then take a chair. I
’
ll be right back.”

They continued to complain and plot revenge the entire time
they were in the rooms but in the end, they did what they were told and sat
down. Constable Waters returned and smiled kindly at them. She looked through
their things with a gentle hand.

Turning towards them she said compassionately, “You may put
your things on and come out to the waiting area when you
’
re
ready.”

Once out in the lobby, they waited to hear if they could
leave.

“Mrs. Littleword and Mrs. Ryes, please follow me,”
Constable Waters
asked.

Back down the hall they went. They were shown into the Chief
’
s office where he was sitting behind his desk drinking a cup of
coffee and glaring at a computer screen.

“
Ladies,
”
he started in a more hospitable tone once he saw they were standing at
his door, “please come in. You understand we had to be certain you didn
’
t have the manuscript.”

They had originally decided they would give the Chief a
piece of their mind, but with his unexpected reversal in approach, they found
themselves without recourse but to be understanding. Still wanting to go home,
they knew antagonizing him wouldn
’
t serve their cause.

He continued. “We are studying our security cameras
positioned around the station and they show a man crawling out of the interview
room window. We will find him, but again, please accept my apology for having a
brusque manner earlier.”

“It might have been nice to check the surveillance videos
first,”
Martha
said, still miffed by the search.

Helen held up her hand to quiet Martha who sighed
dramatically.

“Will you please let me know if you find the manuscript?
Rarely in my profession have I come across something so remarkable. I have a
strong feeling it is something special,”
Helen said.

“Of course, Mrs. Ryes. I had set an appointment to meet with
Louis Devry today. I
’
ll need to cancel it. As soon as we
know something, I
’
ll get a message to you.”
He dug in his desk.
Finding a toffee, he popped it into his mouth.

Martha turned to go. “If that
’
s all
then, we
’
ll be on our way.”
She was in a hurry to check on her pets.

The girls left the chief giving orders into his phone about
getting someone to go over to Louis Devry
’
s house since he
wasn
’
t answering his phone.

Helen and Martha found the Mini Cooper parked in front of
the station and without looking back, drove directly to Flower Pot Cottage and
its two hungry, crabby pets.

PIERS COUSINS WAS TERRIBLY RELIEVED to be out from under
the watchful and matronly care of Nurse Davis. He cringed slightly while
remembering the last couple of days. Davis
’
daily sponge baths
were a difficult memory to free himself of. She must have confused him with a
rabbit she wanted to skin. There were moments when he thought he saw a gleam in
her eye while she scrubbed his legs to a ruby redness reminiscent of raw meat.

To be fair though, she checked on him often, fussed over his
pillows and monitored his diet and bowel movements with zeal. It was this
ever-present care that lead to his urgent desire to get out of the place at any
cost.

When he finally saw his doctor, a woman in her early
thirties, she reluctantly agreed to let him leave the hospital as long as he
checked in with his general practitioner in a few days to make sure all was
healing correctly. Within minutes of the papers being signed, he made his way
outside and found a taxi.

As the vehicle weaved its way through the traffic before
finding the road towards Marsden-Lacey, Piers thought about the surveillance
video and wondered if Louis was Sir Carstons
’
killer.

Louis
denied killing Carstons but who
else had such excellent motives? There was his love for Emilia and the terrible
way Carstons treated her. To be fair, that could be one of Piers
’
own motives
for wanting Carstons dead.

Louis also admitted to him that Carstons was trying to bully
him into turning a blind eye while Carstons stole items from the collection. In
return for Louis
’
silence, Carstons would stay quiet about the details of Louis losing his
job at Harvard, a typical Carstons
’
low-life
maneuver.

The view out Piers’
backseat window showed they were reaching the outer fringes of
Marsden-Lacey. He considered the story Louis told him at the hospital yesterday
as he watched the countryside roll before him in all its summer glory.
Remembering Emilia
’
s effect on almost any man who came in
contact with her, Piers thought of Louis’
love for her.

It was only after she married Carstons that Louis finally
accepted the role of friend to Emilia. No one could understand what Emilia saw
in Alan Carstons. Before he married her, Carstons must have spread the charm on
thick.

Only her pregnancy had ended Louis
’
desire to
stay close. Louis never knew about Piers
’
affair with Emilia
or that the child she bore was theirs.

Louis
’
visit to the hospital and his confession
about Carstons blackmailing him hadn
’
t shocked Piers.
Anything that Carstons did quit shocking Piers years ago. Carstons was forever
manipulating people to get what he wanted and if that meant blackmail or
cruelty, then so be it.

If there was more to Louis’
story, Piers would have to find out. One thing was for sure, Louis was
ferocious in the video when he snatched the satchel from Carstons' grasp and
pointed for him to get out. If he decided later to kill him, what was the final
motivating factor?

Piers shut his eyes and lay back against the taxi
’
s seat. He saw the first small cottage on a bend in the road
leading to the High Street of Marsden-Lacey. Impulsively, he called to the
driver an alternative address. Potter Cottage on Pike Lane was Louis
’
cottage. Maybe it was time to see if his old friend needed a lawyer. He
would gladly help Louis Devry, even if he was Carstons
’
killer. In
fact, he thought to himself, he actually owed him a debt of gratitude.

The taxi stopped and Piers jumped out. He paid the driver
and told him to wait. No one answered when he rang the doorbell but he could
see Louis
’
Volvo parked in the adjoining shed.

He walked around the house, peering in the windows. The
house was so quiet not even a bird or bee disturbed its slumber. A final room
near the back of the house with a window close to the ground allowed
Piers to
see into the space inside. He pressed his face against
the pane of glass, shielding his eyes from the glare of the reflection. There,
lying on the bed, was Louis perfectly asleep.

Piers rapped at the window and yelled, “Louis! Wake up. We
need to talk.”

Not a twinge of movement from the man. Piers banged and
called again but nothing. It was then the idea took form in his soul that the
picture was wrong. With a sudden knowledge that he was seeing a dead man, Piers
bolted back around the cottage to the front door. He signaled to the taxi
driver who rolled down his window.

“Call an ambulance! I think the man inside is sick. Hurry!”

With a great run at the door, he rammed through it easily
and made his way to where Louis was lying in the room at the end of the hall.
Once there, Piers stood above the quiet, fully-dressed figure on the bed,
studying what the scene held for him to understand.

His heart beat rapidly and he reached out to touch Louis but
hesitated. There in Louis
’
hand was a medicine bottle. He looked
at Louis
’
chest but it didn
’
t appear to be moving. No
respiration was taking place. From desperation, Piers laid his head on Louis
’
chest trying to hear something. Nothing.

A chill crept up his skin. Piers backed away from the bed
and the peaceful corpse. He slumped into a nearby chair and considered the
scene. The first thought that eked into his mind was how Louis was with Emilia
now. It was what he had always wanted.

The sound of sirens moving toward the cottage and then
footsteps coming down the hallway stirred him to action. He stood up as two
paramedics pushed into the room. Piers pointed to the bed. They quickly moved
towards Louis to assess the situation. Gloves on, they conversed only with each
other while working on the lifeless body. Piers heard another set of sirens
coming towards the cottage.

Soon a constable was in the room asking questions of the two
paramedics. Feeling detached as if he was watching the scene from a remote
place, Piers
’
emotions were dammed by the shock.

From the back of the house he heard a gruff and familiar
voice. Chief Johns
’
presence preceded him and then, in his take-charge manner, he stalked
into the room. He looked tired but determined and his gaze bore down on Piers.

“You find him?”
he asked.

Piers
’
brain
snapped-to. “Yes,”
was
all he could get out before Johns stopped him with another question.

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk with him about something.”

“What?”

Piers
’
rattled
brain wouldn
’
t process. He forced it to focus. Johns was
staring at him, waiting. Finally, he found himself wondering if it was the
right moment to say he suspected Louis of killing Carstons. “I…I…Well, you see,
I wanted to ask Louis if he killed Carstons.”