The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3 (10 page)

“Can I help you?”

I turned around to see the owner of the deep voice, a tall
angular man dressed in blue-gray work clothes.

“I was intrigued by the gear in here.”

“It’s all for sale.”

“Really?”  I turned back around and rescanned the shelves. 
A Swiss Army folding knife twinkled in the corner.

“Some of our tenants trade for room and brew.”

“Like a pawn shop?”

“No, more of a barter – I doubt any of them will return for
this stuff.  Most of this was from frustrated campers, people who were over
their heads when it came to enjoying Cornwall’s unique terrain and weather.”

“I hear ya.  Weekend strollers.”

“City people mostly.  Did you want to see something closer?”

“The Swiss Army set,” I said, tapping the glass near its
location.

He opened the case, retrieved my prize and handed it over. 
I carefully flipped open each metal object.  A small knife, nail file,
collapsible scissors, and bottle opener resided on one side.  The other held
common and Philips screwdrivers, another small knife and a cork screw.

“I could really use most of these.  How much?”

“Five pounds sound fair?”

I did a quick conversion in my head and all but blurted,
“More than fair.”

“The knives aren’t worth much though.”  He pointed to one
that had a nick in it.  “I think someone thought they could cut hard wood with
it.”  He pulled open a drawer at the bottom and pulled out a cloth bundle that
he started to unroll.”

“Now this,” he held up a large knife with a notched blade,
“will cut brambles and maybe a small tree.  You have to use it like this: grab
the wood firm and saw.”

I nodded mesmerized by his very maleness, and before I knew
it I had bought the knife, the Swiss pocket set and a brass-headed cane. 
Walking back to our table I vowed to get my hormones checked.  They seemed to
be taking over.

“You seem to have bought out the store.”

“Uh – oh this?  Actually,” I placed the folding knife on the
table, “I could use this.  I mean, I can’t take this stuff back with me on the
plane, but...I can’t explain it.”  I took an awkward pause and then continued,
“The cane was just pretty.  Who would suspect it could crack the skulls of most
woodland creatures!”

Angie started to laugh and patted my chair seat.  “Sit down
Alan Quartermain.”

“Who?”

“He was the Indiana Jones of my time.”

“Oh.”  I sat down and put the knives in my purse.

Marie brought our soup.  The bowl was squeezed between two
large slabs of bread on the serving plate.  I took a taste of the soup. Angie
was right; this was the best tomato soup.  Spicy, rich.  What else was in that
soup?

“Parsnips?” I asked Angie.

“Maybe, horseradish.  Try the bread.”

Okay, now either I was famished or my whole body had been
grown in order to eat this meal because I enjoyed every mouthful.  Angie
finished before me and sat in silence patiently waiting.

“This was great.  What’s my split?”

“It’s on me.  A thank you for tilling Dorothy Comstock’s
asparagus under.”

“No problem.”

We left the hostel and drove straight to Bathgate.  I got
out of the lorry and Angie drove on into the barn.  I sat down on the porch and
waited for her.  When she didn’t come out of the barn I grabbed my bag and got
up to wander over there.  Before I got off the porch I heard a scuffle and a
strangled plea from Angie.  I reached into my purse and grabbed the knife I had
bought at the hostel.  I held the knife blade-down as I charged into the
building.  I pulled up short as I found Angie struggling with the tan man from
the airport.  He was strong-arming her into a car that had been hidden on the
far side of the barn.

“Let her go,” I said evenly.

He turned towards me and laughed.

I lifted the knife and held it business side out.  “Back
away and let her go.”

“Pretty big knife for a nosey American bitch,” he snarled.

While he was looking at me, Angie had turned herself around
and kicked the tan man.  He turned around to backhand Angie.  I made my move
and quickly came up behind him.  I pulled the knife lightly across his neck to
let him know I was there.  A thin line of blood oozed out, as he stood frozen.

“Angie, get in the house and call Robert.”  I waited until I
heard the door slam to ease my grip. “Get the hell out of here!” I pushed him
into his car and turned and ran like hell to the house.  Angie let me in and we
cowered behind the door as we watched the tan man’s car tear out of the driveway.

Angie was calm enough to remember to copy down the car make
and plate number and was giving the information to the Chief Superintendent
while I went into the bathroom and threw up.

I walked out into the kitchen to face Chief Superintendent
Robert and Constable Cayne.  Cayne was busy with his little notebook, and
Robert was drinking tea.  He got to his feet when he noticed me in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, I only left her for a moment.”  I walked in and
sat down.  I had just realized I was still holding the knife so I set it on the
table.

“Cin, you have nothing to beat your back about.  You saved
our Angie.  Do you feel up to a couple of questions?”

I nodded.

“Good.  Cayne, are you ready?”  He waited for Cayne to look
up. “Good.  Angie told me she had just got out of the truck when she was
grabbed from behind and dragged over to the car.  How did you know she was in
trouble?”

I gave him a quick rundown of events.  I added, “I’m sorry I
didn’t subdue him, but I knew when I wrapped my arm around him that he was
armed.  He had a shoulder holster on, and it was filled.  He outweighed me.  It
wouldn’t have taken much to move me off him.  When Angie kicked him, I had the
element of surprise, but I could hear the gears working.  It wouldn’t be long
before he had the upper hand.  I figured the house would be a safer place to
defend both of us, so I ran for it.”

Robert’s eyes narrowed.  “You mentioned he was the tan man
from the airport.  What did you mean by that?”

I explained about meeting the tan man on the plane and his
odd behavior afterwards.

“It wasn’t until the coach pulled out of Plymouth that I
heard how Bobby had exaggerated my worth, and that I was supposedly a great
detective from the States come to solve the arson at the farm.  I can tell you
I was quite surprised.”

“I understand where yer goin with this.”  Robert stroked his
chin.  “Maybe this ‘tan man’ was watching for you because of the rumors already
started out here in Cornwall.”  He looked briefly at Constable Cayne.  “We are
a chatty bunch out here.  But how was it that you happened to have that knife? 
Do you often go out on the town armed to the teeth?”

“It was handy.  I just bought it at the hostel.  I don’t
know if you do DNA here, but there’s some of the tan man’s blood on the knife.”
I pushed the weapon over to him.  He just looked at it.

“There is more DNA on your shoe, Cin.”

I looked down and, yes, there was a large amount of blood on
my shoe.  The blood from his throat must have dripped down on my shoe.  “Bloody
hell, another pair of shoes.”  I took off my shoe and handed it to Cayne, who
already had a plastic bag handy.

It was at that point the girls walked through the door. 
Noelle took one look at me holding a bloody tennis shoe and the knife on the
table and burst out.  “What did you do?”

“Gentlemen, my daughter Noelle Lathen and Paisley Price.”

Paisley’s eyes grew big when she saw the knife.  “Wicked
blade, Cin.”

“Noelle, this is Chief Superintendent Robert...”

“Browning,” he supplied.

“Like the poet?” Noelle smiled.

“It’s a common name here abouts.”  Robert reddened.

“And this is Constable Cayne,” I continued.

“So what did ya do to get the constables on yer case?” Paz
asked me.

I just waved my hand and put my head down on the table.

“Your mother just saved my life again.”  Angie stood behind
me stroking my hair.  “She snuck up behind my captor and cut his throat.”

“Oh Mother!”  Noelle paled and leaned against the counter
for support.

“Where’s the body?”  Paz was halfway to the door.

“Miles away by now,” I murmured.

“You didn’t kill him?”

“No.”

“You let him get away?”

“Yes.”

“Now that was a bit dumb.”

“Paz, leave my mother alone.  I’m sorry, Mom.  It’s just I
don’t know what to expect from you anymore.  Midlife crisis, divorce...”

“Now girls, either sit down and be quiet or leave the room. 
The constables are asking the questions now,” Angie instructed.

The girls pulled up chairs and sat quietly.  Robert seemed
amused.  Cayne just kept on writing.

“Angie, I think you need some protection out here.  Excuse
me ladies, male protection out here.  I will have one of the constables out
here until we catch this tan man.  Right now I need a good description of him. 
I’ll have the car, its description and plate number out to the locals.”

“As I already told you he was wearing a tan raincoat, tan
slacks, tan shoes and he has a bad comb-over, balding with a couple of hairs
grown long to keep his head warm.  He was wearing glasses, but I could see he
had dark eyes.  Brown?  Yes, they were brown.  He has a thin knife cut on the
left side of his neck.  He is just shorter than I. Oh, I would say five foot
seven or eight.  He was carrying a gun under his left arm.  I think it would be
safe to say that he’s right handed.”

“Anything else?” Cayne asked.

I looked at Angie.  She thought a moment and shook her head.

“Wait, he had an accent.”  I nodded my head.  “It sounded
like Paz’s east-end accent.”

“Paz isn’t from the east end, Mom.  She just pretends.”

Paz just held up her arms and confirmed Noelle’s
observation.

“Well, maybe it was phony.  Anyway, he sounded like
Paisley.”

Robert got up.  “I am going to bring some lab boys out.  And
would you mind if I ask Will Comstock or his boy to stick around till I can get
one of my constables out here?  I need Cayne to finish his report.  I'm going
to bring the Yard into this, first time since the missing campers.”

“Will is fine or Billy.  I’m sure the girls would rather
have Billy around.”  Angie winked at Noelle and Paz.

“Billy’s a good boy.  Girls, would you feel safe with the
lad around here?” Robert teased.  Seeing the girls’ eyes light up he nodded. 
“Billy it is.  Until then, don’t leave the house or answer the door.  Come on,
Cayne. Let’s look at the barn.  The fool may have left us some evidence.”

The constables left the kitchen and Angie locked the door
after them.  “Who could use a drink?  I know I could.  Come on, Cin, let’s go
into the living room and the girls can tell us about their day.”

I raised my head and pushed my tired body out of the chair. 
I started to walk and remembered I only had one shoe on.  I pulled off the
other one and tossed it into the trash.

“Noelle, I think as soon as we can I need to go shopping for
some shoes.  I only have my dressy black shoes left.”

“I guess we need to go back into Penzance.  Oh, wait until I
tell you.  The Internet café has a web cam.  So we can see Alex, and he can see
us.  Of course, we’ll have to coordinate times.” Noelle declined the offer of
alcohol and sat down next to Paz in the overstuffed loveseat.  Paisley was
nursing a shot of whisky.

I noticed Angie handed me a larger dose than before and hers
was larger still.  She raised her glass.  “Adventures.”

“Adventures,” we toasted back.

“Speaking of which, tell us how your errand went?”

“We emailed Alex and attached the file of the scanned
manuscript.  Paz sent another copy to one of her blokes at the Royal
Conservatory of Music.  I ran the name M. Sherborn through a search engine and
came up with a Maurice Sherborn who’s a composer.  Mostly British brass band
stuff, but he did an Overture that evidently impressed the Queen.  Get this,
he’s going to be knighted at the end of the month.”

“Maurice knighted?” Angie shook her head.  “He was lousy.”

“I don’t know about that because classical isn’t my forte,
but he is going to be knighted for his ‘Eclectic Body of Work.’”

“Hold on, what does eclectic mean?” Paz asked.

“Eclectic means composed of various means and styles.  For
example my mother is wearing an eclectic mix of classic and bohemian clothes
and jewels.”  Noelle looked again. “Don’t tell me, is that the necklace you
were sent to get?”

“Later, tell me more about Maurice.”

“He has composed marches, hymns, operas and some big band
arrangements.  He didn’t publish until after World War II.  Then it looked like
he flooded the market.  Hasn’t done anything in the last twenty years though.”

“Probably living off the royalties,” Angie mumbled, “I just
can’t imagine Maurice doing anything worthwhile.”

“Wasn’t he here at Bathgate the summer Michael was here?”

“Yes, but he was only welcomed because Father wanted Michael
so badly. Maybe the shock of Michael’s death gave Maurice a muse of sorts.  I
wonder what Bobby will think about this?  Bobby spent a lot of time with the
students.  He could, being male and all.”

“Noelle, you wouldn’t happen to have seen a picture of
Maurice would you?”

“I didn’t think to print the article, but there was a
picture.  Old frail looking man with a thick head of gray hair. Why?”

“I just thought maybe he was our tan man.”

“Maurice is too old and sickly.  They wouldn't let him in the
service.  The only Sherborn that fought for England was Michael.”

“Okay, girls, we’ll file this information and ask Bobby his
thoughts about it.  Anything else?”

“I looked up your priest.  He’s real.  His aunt is a big
shot in Savannah.  She’s always invited to all the best parties.  Very rich,
lots of ex-husbands.  Nothing on Donald though.”

“Thanks for looking.” I sat back in my chair.

“Ahem, the necklace.”

“What about it?”

“Why are you wearing it?” she asked.  “You didn’t buy it did
you?”

“I bought it for Dorothy.  And I’m wearing it because Mary
said I had to.  Said the blessing would be lost if I took it off before giving
it to Dorothy.”

Noelle got up and walked over to examine it.  She picked up
the stone and looked it over.  “Looks old.”

“I hope it’s worth all the trouble,” I murmured. 

“What was the witch like?” Paz asked popping off the
loveseat to join us.  She sat on the floor at my feet.  Noelle still held on to
the stone.  Twirling it, she painted the walls with a prism of light.

“She looked just like a housewife.  Wouldn’t you say so,
Angie?”

“Pretty ordinary.  She was making bread.  Her house was neat
and tidy.  Did you give Noelle the note?”

“What note?” Noelle asked.

“Wait I think it’s in my purse.  Paz, could you, I think I
left it on the porch.”

Paz was on her feet. “You did, we brought it in,” she called
over her shoulder. “Wait, where did I put it? Yes, here it is." Paz walked
back in the room handing my purse to me, and I rummaged around until I felt the
small bundle.

“First let me tell you what happened.  After I paid for the
necklace she said, ‘Blessed be.  You will be fine.  The Kernow Daa will keep
you from harm.  Then she gave me a piece of paper to give to you.”

“You asked her how she knew about your daughter.  She didn’t
really say.”

“Probably Dorothy.”

“She said Dorothy didn’t tell her.” Angie corrected.

“I don’t know but here it is.”  I handed the note to Noelle.

Noelle rolled her eyes and opened it.  She read the note,
dropped it and Paz picked it up. Paz read the note out loud.  “It says, Noelle,
the stars shine on your mother.”

“Is this a joke?”

“No. Ask Angie.”

“I saw her write it myself,” Angie said seriously.

“Yeah, right.”  Noelle took the note from Paz and headed
upstairs.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I’m going to listen to some music,” she said simply.

Paz followed her upstairs to get her CD player, and I put my
feet up.  “Angie, I think I’m going to nap right here.  Do you mind?”

“No dear, I am halfway asleep myself.” 

I heard Paz come down the stairs and opened my eyes to see
her grab an afghan and cover Angie up.  I smiled as she put her finger to her
lips in a “shhh.”  She tiptoed back up the stairs.  I fell asleep to the light
tap, tap of her feet on the floor above me.