The Christie Curse (23 page)

“Sorry. I didn’t know any of that. But the danger is real and you must be connected
somehow. Is there somewhere you can go until the police find out what’s going on?”

“I’m not too confident about them, but, yeah, I guess I can stay at my dad’s.”

“Maybe Karen Smith will regain consciousness, and then we’ll stand a chance of finding
out who is behind this. In the meantime, you have to keep yourself safe. But before
I go, can you tell me about the attack? I’m sorry. I know it’s hard for you.”

“There’s nothing to tell. I was in my driveway getting into my car when a man came
up behind me and when I turned around, he hit me in the face.”

“You said you didn’t see his face, but he moved like a man. A young man? A teenager?”

She thought for a minute and shook her head. “No. An older guy. He ran off when a
car drove by.”

“Did the people in the car see what happened?”

She shook her head. “They didn’t stop. I don’t even know if they saw what was going
on, but I think they scared him off. He might have killed me.”

That was true. “Will there be someone around at your dad’s place?”

“He’s got a pretty flexible schedule. I’ll ask him to help
me with opening and closing Yummers for my events. I don’t think this guy would start
anything in a crowd, do you?”

“Make sure you’re not alone. You’re lucky to have your dad. I never knew mine. But
my uncles are pretty terrific.”

“I can’t imagine not having my dad. That must be awful. We’ve had some hard times,
but at least we’re always there for each other now. We’re not alone,” she said with
a sad smile.

Not like Alex, alone in his grave.

I patted her shoulder. “I’ll make sure you get to your car safely.”

“Thanks. It feels stupid to be so nervous when it’s not even dark out.”

“It’s kind of isolated in the parking lot.”

As we reached her silver Yaris, she glanced over and up at the massive Navigator and
back at me. I said, “It’s a loaner. My car’s in the shop. Don’t forget to call me
if you remember what was familiar about the guy, or even if you’re worried.”

She opened her door and said with a smile that looked really painful, “Don’t worry.
You’ll be the first person I call if I see anything suspicious. And I’ll make sure
the cops take me seriously.”

An image of the shambling man coming up behind Ashley chilled my blood. “By the way,
did the guy who attacked you have a limp?”

Her eyes widened. “A limp? No. He was kind of slower moving, like an older person.”

“Did you actually see him run away?”

She closed her eyes and thought. She opened them and said, “Yes. I did see him. He
wasn’t running, but he definitely wasn’t limping. I’m sure of that. Why?”

“Just trying to get my facts straight. Could it have been the man you saw talking
to Karen at the book fair?”

“That mailman?”

I nodded.

She took the time to consider it. “I didn’t see him closely and I really didn’t see
his face, or his hair, but you know, it could have been. He was about the same size,
I think. That’s not much help, but yes, maybe.”

I said, “Ashley, promise you will watch out for this guy, and whatever you do, if
you see a smiley blond cop with a tendency to blush, don’t trust him.”

“You mean that guy who talked to me after I was attacked? The first cop to show up.”

What? Now that was just plain wrong. Officer Smiley had talked to her after the attack?
Wasn’t it way too coincidental that he would show up when Ashley had been injured?

“I didn’t realize that he was the officer first on the scene. Did he come after you
called 911?”

“No, I was just lucky that he came along on patrol.”

“Well, I don’t think it was lucky. Kind of the opposite. He’s involved somehow. So
whatever you do, don’t be alone with him and don’t go anywhere with him.”

Her jaw dropped. “You think the cop is involved?”

“I don’t know why or how, but there’s something off. Be very, very careful. And can
you give me your telephone number?”

“Good idea.”

I keyed her number into my phone and watched her drive away. I hoped the next time
I saw her, it wouldn’t be in the hospital.

Or worse.

I
PONDERED THE connections between Eddie, Karen and Ashley as I gunned the Navigator
and drove ten miles into the rolling green countryside. I checked each property I
passed until I located the rambling yellow farmhouse of George Beckwith, the owner
of Nevermore and the first dealer I’d spoken to at the book fair. Through the twin
miracles of Lance and my iPhone, I had his address. The house seemed to be called
Nevermore too. I saw no sign of a shop or an office as I arrived. I did approve of
the wide wraparound verandah and the broad lawns.

A beautiful black horse with a white blaze was cantering around a corral on the property.
Ducks, geese and a willowy Border collie completed the picture. The collie seemed
delighted at my arrival.

George Beckwith did remember me. He seemed surprised to see me showing up at his home
unannounced in the evening and not in the least bit happy. This was a beautiful place.
I wondered what it would cost to keep it going. More than you’d take in from a rare
book business? He
ambled along the porch and gestured toward a porch swing, and I sat. He took his place
in the wicker rocker beside it. I noted that he neither limped nor shuffled. Damn.

The reproach was obvious, even in his smooth, buttery voice. “I haven’t been able
to find out anything about the item you were searching for, but I haven’t given up.
These things take time. You can’t push it. You’ve caught me by surprise. I rarely
have clients here and never without an appointment.”

I ignored him. “It’s urgent and not about a purchase. I have some questions.”

As his eyebrows rose, the screen door banged and his wife, a small smiling woman with
a cap of silver hair and a slow, stilted walk, arrived with a tray of lemonade, three
glasses and a shy smile. She introduced herself as Jeannette. I liked her instantly.

“I don’t usually answer questions at home. I’ll—” He shot his wife a dirty look as
she happily filled the glasses of lemonade. She seemed thrilled to have company besides
his majesty. Who could blame her?

“Karen Smith was attacked and left for dead after the book fair. Did you know that?”

The glass hit the floor with a crash. Jeannette’s hand flew to her face. “No! That’s
terrible. Did you know, George?”

From the way he’d turned white, my guess was he hadn’t. “We were on the road yesterday
and today. We just got home. I haven’t even had the news on.”

“I imagine you’ll hear from the police investigators soon. They’ll be interviewing
people who were there.”

“What do you mean ‘people who were there’? Where?”

As Jeannette headed unsteadily through the door to get something to clean up the lemonade,
I said, “Karen was hit on the head and left for dead in Saint Sebastian’s Hall after
the book fair. She was the last person on site.”

“In the hall?” His voice was closer to a croak than its usual smooth tone.

“Yes. And I’d like to know if you saw anyone unusual talking to her or arguing with
her or even doing business with her. Anyone that struck you as odd. Someone who shuffled
perhaps? Or limped?”

The screen door banged behind Jeannette as she returned with a broom and a dustpan
and a bucket and mop.

They exchanged glances. She started to sweep up the broken glass and said, “We have
lots of older customers, people like us. It’s not unusual for someone to have a cane
or to move slowly, with all our creaky old bones. Like me, getting close to needing
a hip replacement.”

I nodded in sympathy but kept on topic. “But did either of you notice her talking
to anyone suspicious or out of the ordinary? Someone reported a slight fiftyish man
with thin fair hair combed over.” I made a gesture to simulate a comb-over.

They both shook their heads.

George said, “Karen was at the diagonal opposite corner. I couldn’t really see her
that easily from our section.”

Jeannette said, “I wasn’t at that fair. There was too much to look after here on Sunday,
although I love the fairs. It’s so nice to see old friends.”

I wasn’t prepared to let it drop. I turned to George. “Did you get anything to eat
at the concession stand? Maybe you noticed her then?”

George said, “I bought a sandwich and some coffee, but I don’t recall anything out
of the ordinary. Karen’s a nice, friendly woman, although I don’t know her that well.
Jeannette knows her a bit better, but Jeannette wasn’t there. There weren’t any customers
at Karen’s booth when I went by. She was reading, and she looked up and smiled. It’s
hard to imagine anyone attacking her. Or any of the dealers. Was it theft?”

“Doesn’t seem that way. I think the person planned it, made sure she was alone and
tried to kill her.”

George had made no attempt to help his wife clean up the glass and spilled lemonade.
“It must have been a robbery
attempt. Why else would anyone try to kill a harmless woman like Karen Smith?”

“That’s what I’m wondering, and that reminds me, do either of you know anything about
a collector or dealer known by the name Merlin?”

“Never heard of him,” George snapped.

Jeannette stared blankly.

“I just wondered if he might be the person you contacted after my visit to your booth.”

“I have no idea what you’re going on about.”

I shrugged. “People talk. And they listen. And they pass things on. I wouldn’t be
at all happy if it turned out your conversation was with this Merlin.”

“If that’s all,” George said in his snootiest British accent, “we’re both quite tired
after our trip and we need to say good night.”

“Fine with me. I have somewhere to be anyway,” I said, getting to my feet. I had one
piece of information I’d come for. I didn’t know if Merlin shuffled or limped, but
I knew I’d made George very nervous when I asked him who he’d been talking to.

*    *    *

ON THE COUNTRY road I pulled out my cell and checked with the uncles on the well-being
of Walter. I wanted to make a good report to Karen, if and when she opened her eyes.
I kept expecting the dog honeymoon to be over. But the uncles were rising to the challenge.

“Pet Universe,” Uncle Mick said without a preamble. “Amazing place.”

“What?”

“We went right after you left.”

“You did?” I said.

“Lucky was quite overwhelmed.”

“Huh. What did you get? I’ve been meaning to pick up some dog food, but I figured
that KD would—”

“Couldn’t get over the choices of beds, my girl. It’s a dog’s world, all right.”

“I suppose it—”

“We went for a neutral, but a good solid foam base. Washable. We kept the color for
the collar and the lead. Red. And the bowls, you know. Little paw prints on them.
Can’t be using the everyday dishes.”

“Of course not.” What the—?

Mick’s voice lowered. “Your uncle Lucky has gone over the edge with this situation.”

“You mean—?”

“Lamb and rice food. Duck and sweet potato. Where will it end?”

“Well,” I said, “I’m starting to lose signal, but I’m really glad it’s working out
for all of you.”

Don’t ever let anyone tell you that there are no miracles in this bad old world.

*    *    *

IN THE HOSPITAL, I scurried along to the nurses’ station, trying to get an update
on Karen. Apparently, she was out of danger. Her condition had been upgraded to fair,
and she was now in a different room. I was hoping she’d be awake so I could give her
the news about Walter and his temporary digs.

As I opened the door to her room, I made an effort to keep my expression cheerful.
I had a feeling that I might be upset by the sight of her injuries and whatever new
changes had resulted from her treatment.

A surgeon was bending over the bed with a pillow in his hand, his surgical mask still
in place. He whirled to face me, and my brain struggled to make sense of the scene.
Pillow did not compute. Especially as Karen’s hands were pushing frantically against
it.

“Hey!” I yelled. “What are you doing?”

Karen made a desperate gasp for breath as he dropped
the pillow and ran for the door, shoving me hard as he went. My head banged against
the wall, and I dropped to the floor. I struggled to my feet and rushed out the door,
shouting, “Stop that man! He’s assaulted a patient!”

Passing staff stared at me with astonishment. The assailant knocked over an IV pole
and pushed a gurney sideways across the hallway to impede any chase. But there were
no pursuers. It was all too astonishing. The man opened the door to a stairway exit
and vanished into it. But not before I’d had time to notice that he had a distinctive
limp.

I raced back to Karen’s bedside. She was pale and shaking, but alive. She squeezed
my hand until it hurt. I waited until her grip loosened a tiny bit.

“The man who tried to hurt you, did you recognize him?” I asked.