Depth of Deception (A Titanic Murder Mystery) (26 page)

"
I’m just following procedure,
"
de Kirkhaugh replied.
"
I have to rule out all possibilities.
"

"
I was in Edinburgh at the time. I have a car rental receipt if you’d like.
"

"
Yes, I would,
"
said de Kirkhaugh.

"
Where were
you
when this happened?
"
Callum asked de Kirkhaugh.

"
Callum!
"
exclaimed his sister, in shock of his insolence.

"
I have to rule out all possibilities,
"
replied Callum.
"
Besides, I’m sure Granda is turning in his grave at the presence of the Glasgow police in his home.
"

De Kirkhaugh ignored Callum as he turned to Lumina.
"
Was there anything missing?
"

"
No, and I haven’t been able to figure out how anyone got in here.
"

"
Miss Toughill, would you be able to take the Constable here on a 'walkabout' of the entire property?
"

"
Certainly.
"

De Kirkhaugh then turned to the Constable and said,
"
See if you can ascertain how someone got in here if they didn’t have a key. Check all windows
,
b
oarded up coal chutes, anything you can find.
"

The constable seemed pleased with the charge,
"
Yes sir.
"

The moment after
everyone else had gone
out the front door, Callum said,
"
They’re not going to find anything.
"

"
I already know how they got in,
"
de Kirkhaugh replied.
"
Through the front door. There are fresh scratches from a lockpick
.
The lock is over fifty years old. She should have them updated.
"

Callum was a bit embarrassed about the fact that he’d been so fixated with the doorknocker that he’d never looked at the lock. But then he wasn’t aware of the burglary until he was already inside. He turned to see de Kirkhaugh peering out the window. Callum began,
"
So… you never answered — where were you when that lock was picked?
"

"
At the Lord Advocate’s office, seeing if I could get a file from a 70-year-old murder case unsealed,
"
whispered de Kirkhaugh as he began to examine the fallen stones, purposefully making a noise as he spoke.

"
Unsealed?
"

"
By the Lord Advocate at the time… and King Edward…
"
continued de Kirkhaugh.

"
Are you mad?
"
Callum saw from de Kirkhaugh’s expression that he was serious
, then tried to look nonchalant
.
"
Why would… never mind. Were you able to get them unsealed?
"

"
No…
"
de Kirkhaugh replied as he turned his attention to some papers, which he shuffled noisily.

Callum turned slowly toward him,
"
What were you doing trying to look into it?
"

"
You tasked me,
"
answered de Kirkhaugh.
"
Mostly, I was intending to prove you wrong… and…
"

"
And what?
"

"
And now I’m being watched,
"
said de Kirkhaugh.
"
I know I sound paranoid.
"

"
Yeah… so am I..,
"
added Callum cautiously. He was still uncertain that he could trust de Kirkhaugh. But if he was a part of it, he would already know this.
"
I was followed at the Scottish Records Hall today.
"

"
Humph. Well, we’ve caught someone’s attention…
"

"
Who?
"

"
Don’t ask me! You’re the one who’s been investigating for days now. Don’t you have any leads?
"

"
No,
"
Callum replied solemnly.
"
All my leads are dead ends.
"

"
To find out who,
"
de Ki
rkhaugh looked at him earnestly,
"
y
ou have to answer why? What was the motive?
"

"
Wish I knew.
"

"
In most of the cases I’ve investigated,
"
continued de Kirkhaugh
,
"
t
he motive for murder is either passion or money.
"

"
I don’t think it was money,
"
Callum replied.
"
From her vast collection of jewels, only one brooch was stolen. Some, which were worth far more, were left behind. The killer could have taken more in his pockets.
"

"
There must have been something special about that brooch,
"
de Kirkhaugh said thoughtfully.

"
Her face was smashed in…
"
Callum added.

"
What?
"

Callum knew he was taking a risk confiding in de Kirkhaugh. But he could no longer think of a possible lead. He needed help now and de Kirkhaugh was very astute. He paused for a moment then continued,
"
Her face was smashed in…the fatal blows were caused by repeated strikes to the face with a blunt instrument.
"

Callum watched de Kirkhaugh process the information
and
the reaction was sincere. He hadn’t known this information.

"
That’s more personal,
"
de Kirkhaugh said, echoing Callum’s initial summation.
"
I would say that
’
s the reaction of a jilted lover.
"

"
But she was an 80 year old spinster …
"

"
So… hardly…
"
de Kirkhaugh started pacing.
"
Did she have family? That’s usually the next question I would ask…
"

"
No family,
"
interrupted Callum.
"
She was an only child. Inherited her fortune from her father…
"

Callum paused as he tried to remember something Ruthie had told him. Callum took his notebook from his pocket and began to flip back.

"
What? What is it?
"
de Kirkhaugh asked nervously.

Found it!
He read it aloud to de Kirkhaugh,
"
‘Miss Gilcrest had no children of her own, which I guess
is why
she spoiled Miss Fergraith’
s
children with presents. Treated them as if they were her own grandchildren.
Did you ever hear of such a thing?
A
former employer. That’s how sweet of a lady she was.’
"

"
Who’s Miss Fergraith?
"
asked de Kirkhaugh.

"
A former servant of hers,
"
replied Callum.

"
That’s unusual.
"

"
I don’t believe she had done as much with any other former servant,
"
Callum added.

"
Is there anyone from that family still alive?
"
de Kirkhaugh pondered aloud.

Chapter
XXXII

With a furrowed brow, Edward added another log to the well-used fireplace and pulled the protective metal screen shut. He turned to see the young woman who called herself Myra asleep on the couch in the main room of the lake house. She seemed so peaceful, under the circumstances.

He and Roger Zisholm had braved the harsh weather to find her. Through white-out conditions, he had tracked her down based on the encoded message left on Natalie’s answering machine, and they had the license plate number from the parking permit at the clinic. The message had ended with
‘West Rock Ri-’
, bringing the two men to West Rock State Park,
where they found Ian Kybartis’
yellow sports car.

Edward had followed the partially-covered footprints in the snow —it was obvious she had been running and Kybartis had given chase. With every step, he cursed his cane as it impeded his speed. The trail led them down to the pond’s edge where the struggle had taken place. There they had found Myra unconscious in the snow: wet, freezing and clutching a gold locket.

Then they found Ian, dead, gun still in his hand, his eerie, bloated face staring blankly from under the slab of ice through which he had fallen. Though the chill of the cold night was slowly leaving Edward’s old bones in the warmth of the fire, that ghastly image was something he’d never shake.

Edward’s thoughts were interrupted by Myra’s breathing becoming more erratic. Suddenly her eyes flew open. She let out a gasp and struggled to breathe.

"
He tried to kill me…
"
she gasped,
"
I had to...
"

Edward sat down next to her. He gently placed his wrinkled old hand atop her youthful ones and in a soothing voice said,
"
Shhh. It’s alright. We found his… corpse floating in the water. One doesn’t have to be Columbo to figure out it was self-defense.
"

"
Who’s Columbo?
"
she asked with a confused look on her face.

"
Oh… he’s like Sherlock Holmes. Well come to think of it, he’s nothing like Sherlock Holmes, but a popular fictional detective nevertheless. The police had come to the same conclusion. My attorney has already filled out the preliminary reports. I persuaded him to go back and ensure our names are kept out of the press. The police will need to take a statement from you when you’re up to it — they’ll send someone here.
"

Myra nodded and sighed with
great relief,
"
You found me.
"

"
The directions you left with Natalie were excellent,
"
smiled Edward.
"
It was a stroke of brilliance to leave a message by Morse Code.
"

"
More like a gamble,
"
she said with a shy smile,
"
I wasn’t certain you would ever hear it. And even so, I didn’t know if you would remember or even continued to learn it. You made up your own taps before you could talk.
"

"
Truth be known I didn’t remember that… until yesterday,
"
Edward remarked. Then it occurred to him why his instructors were so impressed with his aptitude, as he recalled aloud:
"
I had received extensive Morse Code training during the Second World War.
"

"
World War?
"
asked Myra.

He stopped, looked at her and said casually,
"
So much of the world has changed since 1912 and not for the better, I’m afraid.
"

Myra was visibly taken aback and looked at him for a moment, then smiled,
"
You no longer believe I’m a charlatan?
"

Edward let out an
exasperated sigh,
"
I’m not sure what I believe…
"

He got up and walked over to the table as he continued to speak,
"
But something very strange has happened and I can’t simply dismiss it.
"

He returned holding the locket that they had found clutched in her hand. He opened it and looked inside and pointed,
"
I recognize myself as a babe. I know that’s my father in his youth, and that is you next to him.
"

He glanced back up at the painting he had been working on earlier, then back at her as he handed her the locket.

"
You were so adorable in that outfit…
"
started Myra, then she noticed what Edward was looking at and exclaimed,
"
Oh my! That’s me! Or, my eyes at the very least.
"

Edward turned to study her features again. It was undeniable. The same vibrant blue eyes he had painted so often. Myra's eyes then darted about the room looking at the other paintings he had made, all with the same theme.

"
It’s yet another reason why I can’t dismiss you,
"
sighed Edward, as he got up and walked over to the nearest one.
"
Some of these I painted decades ago…
"

"
I don’t understand.
"

"
I was seriously wounded during the war,
"
began Edward, his voice began to shake as he allowed his mind to revisit that time.
"
At one point, I was delirious with a high fever, and then I saw those eyes in my dreams.
They
brought me comfort. Weeks later, when I recovered, I thought it had been a nurse tending to my wounds, but there was no nurse there who had those eyes. Over the decades those eyes… your eyes have stayed with me.
"

He had not noticed her get up and stride over to him while he spoke until she was suddenly there, gingerly wiping the tears from his eyes. Edward turned away, embarrassed.
"
Listen to me. I sound like a foolish old man. I’ll make some tea.
"

As he hurried over to the kitchen, Myra wandered the main room.
"
That window wasn’t so large before.
"

"
No. They’re patio doors. They allow for a lovely view of the lake in the summer. Not that you can see it now — there must be over two feet of snow out there. I’ve never seen a blizzard like this in April. On the radio they are calling this ‘The Great Blizzard of '82’
"

"
The kitchen has moved. It was smaller and over on that side before.
"

Edward glanced up through the pass-thru window to see where she was pointing,
"
That’s right. I had some renovations done many, many years ago.
"

"
For me it feels like it was only a few months ago when we came up to visit Grand Papa. There used to be strong smell of his pipe here.
"

"
Oh yes, I remember that! I had forgotten. Yes, it took me forever to get rid of that smell.
"
He stopped and stared at Myra,
"
What’s happening here?
"

"
I don’t understand. Last thing I remember i
s looking for you on the ship,
"
she paused for a moment as her eyes fell on the scale model of the infamous
Titanic
under glass. She suddenly shivered and began to rub her arms for warmth as she continued:

"
I remember being dizzy, unable to walk very well… The ship was tilting. Teacart rolled by, the cups shattered. Cold water started pouring in from under the door… I saw your teddy bear… Mr. Fluffy...
"

Edward smiled at the memory. He had forgotten it, until this moment. The image of a careworn teddy bear with mismatched eyes flashed through his mind.

Myra continued to speak, her voice cold and distant.
"
Mr. Fluffy floated ou
t from under the red chaise... b
ut I couldn’t find you. My dress felt so heavy as I tried to get to the door to the hallway… It wouldn’t open… it was locked… why was it locked? I had a key… I couldn’t find it…Then I remembered I had set it on the book I was reading before bed… I grabbed Mr. Fluffy as it floated by… and found that book, but where was my key? I grabbed the book… then…
"

Edward was drawn to her melodic voice, he found himself walking to her as she continued.
"
Then I awoke to a world that has completely passed me by. You‘ve had a
life that I was never a part of.
You’re the same age as my Grand Papa, but when I look into your eyes…
"

She turned and looked into his eyes, his soul, with those soft blue eyes that he had searched for all these years. Myra softly continued,
"
When I look into your eyes… I can still see my little boy looking back at me.
"

Edward finally broke down into tears; his young mother took him in her arms to comfort him, tapping soothingly on his shoulder.

Chapter
XXXIII

Captain Sadler was making his way towards the ladder to his quarters, exhausted from the tense situation in the Falkland Islands. He tried to turn his mind to restful thoughts, but it kept going back to the conflict.

Today,
U.S. Secretary of State Alexander Haig, on behalf of the Americans, tried to mediate in peace treaty negotiations, but Margaret Thatcher, the British Prime Minister, had demanded that Argentina withdraw its troops as a pre-condition for negotiations. Sadler had once met Argentina’s new Naval Commander-in-Chief, Admiral Jorge Anaya, when he was Argentina's Naval Attaché in England, and had recognized the malevolence behind the Latin smile. Anaya had had a very colourful career fraught with previous military coups and would not be easily intimidated. As expected, he was as protective and dangerous as a scrap-yard dog. It came as no surprise to Sadler that Argentina refused Britain’s demands and the negotiations fell apart.

Apparently, Haig was embarrassed by the whole mess and reports were circulating around that the Americans planned to boycott the Argentines and throw military support behind the British. Sadler knew that the British Empire would welcome the American support but it would only fuel the Argentines’ fire.

The British Fleet was now ordered to regroup near Ascension Island. Sadler wagered this would now be their new base of operations.
This war i
sn’t going to end any time soon,
he groaned to himself. His back ached. His feet felt like anchors, and he was looking forward to unlacing his boots and lying down for a few minutes of sleep.

He had almost reached his quarters when Lt. JG Westbourne intercepted him,
"
Captain, there is a shore-to-ship call for you.
"

The captain sighed as he turned towards the young officer,
"
Is it official?
"

"
No sir. Not exactly.
"

"
Well it can wait, then…
"

"
But, sir…
"

"
No ‘buts’… we’re at war, son, and unofficial calls can wait ‘til tomorrow,
"
said the Captain as he started to walk away.

"
Sir, you asked to be notified if anyone inquired about…
"
the officer paused to take a cautious look around before continuing,
"
…the old teddy bear.
"

The Captain stopped in mid step, turned sharply, and walked back to him. In a hushed tone he started,
"
Are you saying this shore-to-ship call, in the middle of a war, is inquiring about a
bloody teddy bear
we recovered last week from the North Atlantic?
"

By the end of his tirade, Sadler’s voice echoed along the metal passageways. Westbourne stammered,
"
Yes, sir.
"

Tired though he was, Sadler’s mind slowly mulled over the ludicrousness of the situation.
Why?
Normally he would dismiss it, but he had a nagging feeling that there had to be something special about it. And Sadler always loved a good mystery.

"
Sir?
"
asked Westbourne, who couldn’t tell if the captain was annoyed or not.

Captain Sadler took a deep breath and straightened. Suddenly he no longer felt fatigue as he was once again drawn back into this mystery. With a new excitement in his eyes, he motioned to the young officer to lead on, and they both turned back toward the Bridge.

Chapter
XXXIV

All was quiet except the whistling wind. Edward limped into the main room
,
balancing a tray with a gorgeous old silver art nouveau tea set on it. He carefully set it down on the coffee table as Myra sat on the plushy upholstered couch, flipping through one of his many books about the
Titanic
.

"
The iceberg struck the ship at 11:40pm on the night of April 14, and by 2:20 in the morning it was gone?
"
Myra exclaimed aloud. Her finger trembled as she traced the words,
"
Out of the 2,223 people aboard
Titanic
only 706 survived. A total of 1,517 perished.
"

"
Two-thirds of the ship died.
"
Edward said solemnly.

"
I was supposed to be one of them,
"
Myra said coldly. She snapped the book closed and looked up at Edward standing over her with a cup of tea. She sheepishly smiled at him,
"
Feeling any better?
"

"
Yes, I’m sorry. It’s rather embarrassing.
"

"
There’s nothing embarrassing about crying on your mother’s shoulder.
"

"
You must admit that this is surreal. All my life there was this other woman who I always called 'mother' yet somehow… I think I knew different...
"

"
How so?
"
Myra asked.

"
I don't know how to explain it. We were never close... at all. She was never affectionate... not towards me. I never knew why. Growing up I despised her, which became the subject of numerous arguments with Father.
"

"
And she called herself Myra?
"

"
Well... yes,
"
Edward replied.
"
Though in hindsight I think they purposely severed all social ties in New York and London with anyone who might have known you.
"

Myra nodded, as she seemed to try to comprehend how her life had been taken away from her. Then she looked at him with a troubled expression, "I can understand how you were misled. You were only two years old at the time. But how could she have fooled Archie? Surely, he would have known she was an imposter.
"

Edward set down his cup as he replied,
"
I can only suspect that he knew and covered it up.
"

"
Oh no!" she exclaimed. "Not my Archie. He was such
a
sweet, loving man.
"

"
Doesn’t sound like the man I know,
"
replied Edward.

"Eddie! He's your father!" Myra said in a stern voice.

"Precisely," replied Edward. "I don't know how sweet he was in 1909, but I can assure you that the man I argue with every time we talk is not sweet."

"
Do you think it's possible that he's an impostor too?
"
Myra asked.

"So I was taken and raised by two strangers claiming to be my parents? Seems highly improbable."

"Yet, we can accept that I somehow traveled 70 years into the future?" asked Myra with a smile.

"I guess, if you put it that way... anything is possible." Edward chuckled.

"What other explanation could there be?"

"Well, he might simply just be a bastard," said Edward with a cocked eyebrow as he took a sip of his tea.

"Eddie, watch your language," Myra said with mock sternness. She shook her head, then paused as something occurred to her. "Does he know about me? Here and now?
"

"
Good Lord, no! It’s not the sort of thing you tell someone by phone.
"

"
Where is he now?
"