Two Birds with One Stone (A Marsden-Lacey Cozy Mystery Book 1) (18 page)

Johns snored contentedly after another pint of his mother
’
s pale ale and the girls, Helen and Martha, slept so deeply
that Helen didn
’
t even notice she had a cat curled up next
to her head.

Not all the inhabitants slept peacefully though. Some feared
for their lives, some fretted about their loved ones and one in particular
plotted murder. As for this last person it must be added that they did it for
love, but then many horrors have been credited to the power of love.

Chapter 31

SATISFIED HIS APPEARANCE WOULD EQUAL or better Cary Grant
’
s jewel thief character in “To Catch a Thief,”
Perigrine smiled at
his sleek, black-garbed silhouette in the mirror. He knew it was best to always
dress for the situation and who better to emulate than a successful cat thief
and one who was dastardly good-looking and debonair like himself.

With the ensemble in place, it was time to put on the
knapsack. Unfortunately for Perigrine, the backpack was bright yellow, but it
fit well to his back and was the only thing he could find to carry the
manuscript successfully. He did a few hops around the room first on two legs
and then on each foot to make sure the pack wouldn
’
t slosh
around too much.

Many years ago, Perigrine and Alistair had done a job in
Austria and had decided to learn to ski while they were there. They found to
their surprise they were excellent skiers so they invested in all the equipment
necessary to ski well and look good while doing so. They
’
d
since given up the skis but a yellow and black, knitted face mask was thrashed
out from under some old sweaters in the basement. The mask would cover his face
in case anyone should see him en route to the Constabulary.

Donning the ski mask, he took stock of himself again in the
mirror and did a few more hops to make sure of his spryness for the night
’
s adventure. The yellow and black mask with his entirely black
body and the yellow backpack made Perigrine look like a stretched-out skinny
bee. The hopping gave the impression the bee was having difficulty with its
takeoff.

Finally, he checked the rubber soles of his shoes by taking
a run at the opposite side of the room to see if they had grip. They had grip.
He did a nice landing into a heap of Comstock
’
s never-used
dog beds.

Pleased to see he still had the flexibility of body and
quickness of mind to be agile and quick-witted in tight situations, he picked
up the manuscript, giving it one more look. He loved the thrill of the heist.
This time though, he was on the side of the law which gave a certain honor and
righteousness to his night
’
s endeavors.

Perigrine was taking on the dangerous task of returning what
Alistair had lifted. If he was caught, he would probably be put back in jail.
This in itself was a horrifying thought, but it would be the loss of faith from
his new village friends that would be the hardest thing for him to accept. He and
Alistair had made a new life here and the people of Marsden-Lacey had become
like an adopted family.

So the pressure was on: save Ally from being arrested while
not being arrested and humiliated himself. He put the manuscript in the
knapsack and did one more set of hops.

Alistair, for his part, was sleeping comfortably in the
other room with Comstock tucked into his arm. He had absolutely no idea what P.
was up to. Perigrine thought it best to keep it that way for now. Only Comstock
lifted his head and blinked his small black eyes when P. peeked in on them. The
dog gave a great yawn and let his head fall back on Alistair’s arm.

It was shortly after midnight when Perigrine gingerly let
himself out the back door of their house. Since the pub closed early during the
week, most everyone should be at home. He put on his leather driving gloves and
thanked God it wasn
’
t raining as he slipped around to the
side of the Constabulary.

Only the front reception room lights were on, meaning the
two constables on the night shift, Michael and Thomas, were tending the desk.
They kept the police radio always going during the night and its droning would
cover the sound of Perigrine
’
s entry.

Thomas and Michael were currently into watching a fishing
show about big-game fishermen. They spent their evenings glued to the computer
discussing different techniques for catching fish. So, his only real difficulty
was finding an open window and, of course, not being caught. He intended to put
the manuscript back in Johns
’
office. It would be
safe there.

Fortunately for Perigrine, he was familiar with every aspect
of the station. For instance, he knew a surveillance system was recently
installed thanks to Donna telling him earlier. He must be careful to avoid
being detected by any cameras.

Crawling along between the building and the shrubbery, he
gently tugged on each window at ground level. None were open. Since Alistair
’
s robbery, the place was on lockdown. Looking for help from
above, he saw to his relief a window on the second floor was ajar. All he
needed was a ladder and that was easy to attend to because the Constabulary had
one laying against the outdoor sheds.

A single camera covered this side of the building. It was
quickly dealt with by coming up behind it and putting a bag over it. Then with
the nerves of a true cat burglar, Perigrine found the ladder and affixed it
against the Constabulary directly under the window of choice. He nimbly started
to climb but halfway up, his ascent was arrested by a light illuminating the
room directly above him. The sounds of two male voices came wafting out through
the window.

“Mike, you aren
’
t keeping your wrist
locked. Even if you bring it back to a ten o
’
clock
position, you always keep your wrist firm,”
Thomas was saying.

Perigrine continued his climb and with remarkable composure
lifted his head above the window
’
s sill to steal a look
inside. There was Thomas and Michael practicing their fly rod casts in the
exercise room.

“They could be there for hours,”
P. thought, so he descended back to
the ground and decided to take the Police Station by storm: through the front
door.

He worked his way around to the front of the building,
careful to avoid camera angles and for at least fifteen minutes watched the
reception area. There were two cameras covering the front but no movement of
any kind inside the building.

With nerves of steel, Perigrine worked his way along the
side of the building using the different voluminous bushes for cover. He barely
secreted himself in a massive hydrangea bush before an alarm began to ring
right above his head. Perigrine
’
s heart jumped into his
throat and his entire frame went rigid. The Cat was as still as a statue.

He heard Michael yelling something. Thomas
’
feet
thundered down the wooden stairs inside. Somehow Perigrine
’
s
body acted on its own volition. He leaped back along the way he had come and
once under the complete shield of darkness, ran blindly towards the back of the
building. Lights sprang up in the yard and Perigrine plastered himself against
a dark section of wall with his chest heaving from exertion and excitement. He
looked around wildly. It was then he saw a young man dart towards the bike path
across the street.

Perigrine wasn
’
t sure what was going on
but he could hear voices coming his way. The only route open to him was into
the yard where the police vehicles were parked. He could hear men shouting and
the alarm was louder than ever, so P. did the only thing he could do: he ran
for one of the squad cars praying it would be unlocked. Unfortunately for P., the
gods were bored and decided to have some fun with him.

The first door he fiddled with was the back door to a police
vehicle. It opened. Jumping into the backseat, he pulled the door closed,
finding himself in a cage used to transport prisoners. Perigrine quickly
recalled that neither of the back doors could be opened except from the
outside. He tried the doors to no avail. Locked in like a cat in a cage,
Perigrine would have kicked himself but he didn
’
t have the
room.

Squashed on the back floorboard of the squad car, he wanted
to thrash Alistair and never watch another Cary Grant film for the rest of his
life. He heard Michael
’
s and Thomas
’
voices
getting closer and then it was too late to do anything but sit quietly in the
floorboard and pray.

“WHO
’
S ESCAPED?
”
JOHNS MUMBLED HALF-asleep
into the phone. “Sam? Sam Berry? Yes, I
’
ll be there. Give
me twenty minutes. Wait. I think it would be better if you came and got me. Had
some to drink before bed. Be here in ten.”

The young constable, Michael, who had been practicing his
fly rod casting, hurriedly ran out to the car park and jumped into the first
vehicle he came to. It was the first one Perigrine had come to as well. Michael
was on his way to pick up the Chief.

The car raced down the back lanes of Marsden-Lacey with its
lights flashing but no sirens. Perigrine was crunched down in the floorboard.
The car came to an abrupt stop outside DCI Johns
’
house.
Michael ran up to the door while P. tried frantically to work the door latch.
No good.

Johns and Michael both returned to the car and jumped in.
Perigrine remained crouched behind the front seat. The car sped away into the
night.

The ride only lasted another five minutes. With an abrupt
stop, both policemen jumped out of the car and banged on a door yelling “Sam!”

The door opened and after some brief conversation, the door
slammed shut and the night went quiet.

Perigrine peeked over the front seat and saw there was no
one in sight. Everyone was inside the house. He tried to squeeze through the
tiny enclosure between the front and back seat. It took some doing, but he
managed to work himself like a piece of dough through the opening and onto the
front seat.

Once through the opening, he lay flat on the front seat and
pushed open the passenger door. Sliding from the seat, he knelt down on the
ground using the door as a screen. Taking off the knapsack, he opened it and
laid the manuscript on the front seat, wiping it one last time to remove any
prints. It hadn
’
t been the plan to return the manuscript
in this way, but without a doubt, Johns would have it back and be no more the
wiser regarding who stole it.

Perigrine waited and watched before taking a deep breath and
sprinting towards the dark grove of trees to the side of the road. He hid
himself behind a tree.

Soon Johns, Michael, and another young man came out of the
house. Johns had the man by the back of his collar making him walk on his
tiptoes.

Letting him drop, Johns began to chastise him. “Sam, you
’
ve got to quit breaking out of jail especially late at night.”

“She
’
s gonna marry another man, Chief.
I will not stand for it,”
Sam said more at an upper story window than to Johns.

“Well, if you would quit running around mugging women and
breaking out of jail, she might look on you more favorably,”
Johns said. “I
’
m done with you, Sam. You
’
re going HM
Prison Wetherby.”

“Aw, Chief, please don
’
t. I promise not
to run again. Don
’
t take me away from my Penny.”
Sam finally gave
Johns his full attention.

“You had better not ever get me out of bed again, Sam, or I
’
ll thrash you myself. Do you understand me?”
Johns shook the kid
again by the back of his collar.

“
I do. I do. I
’
ll
be the soul of goodness, I will,”
Sam promised, sounding more like a rattled doll than an ardent,
misguided lover.

“
Good. Get in.
”
Johns dropped
him again and shoved him toward the back door of
the car.

“Good night, Penny!”
Sam yelled. “Don
’
t marry that clod, Jeffrey. I
’
ll be out soon and I
’
ll be back to marry
you!”

“Come on Casanova, get in the car.”
Johns pushed the kid into the back
seat.

Michael was in the driver
’
s seat and
when Johns finally got in, Michael flopped the manuscript into his lap with a
mischievous smile on his face. “Looks like someone left you a present, Chief.”

“What the Hell?”
Johns asked.

He studied the manuscript in the dark. “This is the
manuscript that went missing this morning. What the bloody Hell is it doing out
here? Sam, look at this. Do you know anything at all about it?”

“Nah,”
Sam said sullenly, still sending wistful looks up at the second floor of
the house.

“Constable, did you see anything…anyone?”

“Sir, I didn
’
t see anything. Inside
with you of course the whole time.”

“
Well, I
’
ll be
…I
’
ll be.
”