The Cracked Spine (27 page)

“Oh. I hope it went well.”

“It did. At least as far as I'm concerned. It was a different sort of date, but a good one. I think that all first dates should be that casual. I told him about you and Aggie, and he invited you both in sometime.”

“We'd like that. Thanks for telling me. It's good tae know ye wernae getting yerself into any trouble.”

“I don't know, Elias. I really liked him. There could be plenty of trouble ahead.”

Elias laughed. “That's the best kind. Ye'll let me know if he breaks yer heart. I'll cut oot his own with a pocketknife if he's as terrible as that.”

I chuckled even though I thought there was a note of sincerity to his words. I still didn't understand completely what Elias and Aggie had seen in me, but I appreciated their protectiveness. When I was nineteen I wasn't all that fond of it from my parents, but this was different. Now it was just nice to know that people cared.

“Thanks, Elias. And the police inspector was still there when I got home. Scared me. I think he was worried about my late hours too. It turned out fine.”

“Ooch, I didnae ken he waited around. I might have asked him tae leave and find ye the next day.”

“No problem.” They hadn't heard my scream. I'd have to be louder if I ever really was in danger.

“Where're we going?”

“It's an apartment. A flat,” I said after I looked at Ingy's note. I recited the address including the suite number.

“I ken exactly where it is. Another rich area. Another friend of yer boss's?”

“Yes.”

Monroe lived in an historical building on a street directly off the Royal Mile. Like many of the other old buildings, there were small businesses along the street level—a coffee shop, another take-away fish and chips shop, and a map shop that I wished I had time to peruse. The upper levels were made of gray stones and tall bay windows.

I looked at the time as Elias pulled next to the curb. It was almost seven.

“I'm going to grab some coffee and take it up to the man who lives here,” I said. “I can easily walk back to the shop from here.”

“Ye're going tae what?” Elias said.

“Take him some coffee and ask him a question.”

Elias turned the key. “Let's go then.”

He was out of the cab faster than I was. I hadn't known I would be inspired to buy coffee and deliver it to Monroe or I wouldn't have bothered Elias for a ride. It was pointless to argue.

Elias bought three cups of coffee and found the narrow space in between the map and take-away shops with the security door that led to the upstairs flats.

I pushed the button that corresponded with Monroe's flat number.

“Who's there?” Monroe's voice said a few seconds later.

“Hi, Monroe. It's Delaney Nichols. Remember me?”

“How could I possibly forget?”

I smiled at Elias. He frowned at me.

“Do you have a second?” I said.

“It's early.”

“I know, but I have to get to work soon. I've got coffee.”

“I'm not prepared for company, Delaney.”

Elias grumbled and leaned forward as he pushed on the speaker button. “Och, put on a robe, man. The lass was kind enough to bring ye a coffee. Let her in.”

The silence stretched but then Monroe buzzed us in.

The marble stairway was far too grand for any old apartment building. There were only two doors at the top of the first flight, one on the right and one on the left that was open a small crack.

I knocked on the open door, pushing it more open.

“Delaney,” Monroe said. He wasn't in a robe, but already dressed in a suit, seemingly ready to go invest people's money. His black eye was yellow and brown now. His flat was mostly gray and chrome, modern and uncomfortable.

“Thanks for letting us come up. This is my friend, Elias,” I said.

“Pleasure,” Elias said.

“All mine,” Monroe said, not meaning it.

I handed him a coffee and he signaled us to the living room. He glanced at the paper cup as if it was a foreign object.

“Have a seat,” he said.

Elias and I sat on a hard gray leather and chrome couch. Monroe took the matching chair that was on the other side of a chrome and glass coffee table. Though he held the coffee cup as if he wasn't sure what to do with one that didn't have a handle, we were out of his personal space enough that he seemed relaxed.

“Sorry I had to dash away after Genevieve's lecture. The security guard told us we had tae get going. I was planning on stopping by the shop tae apologize in person. I've been busy.”

“No problem. Thank you.”

“I've some difficulty with crowds, Delaney. I get uncomfortable. I was there that afternoon because Genevieve felt safer with an escort. Edwin was supposed tae join her, but circumstances … I can't blame him. He's got a lot on his plate. I'm afraid I was rude tae you there and perhaps earlier, the first time we met.”

I hadn't expected an apology, but I tried not to let it throw me. He didn't miss a beat in keeping the auction a secret from Elias.

“The three of you are very good friends then?” I said.

“Aye. I do have tae get tae work soon. Is that what you wanted tae ask me?”

“Where did you get the black eye?”

“I told you, I ran into a door.”

It was such an obvious lie that even Elias started, sat up straighter.

Monroe blinked at Elias and I felt the power in the room shift from the rich guy to the cabdriver. So did Monroe, obviously.

“All right, I got into a pub fight.”

Neither I nor Elias believed that one either.

“You don't seem like the pub fight type,” I said.

He laughed. “I'm a Scot, Delaney. When someone discounts my football team and when there's too much whisky involved even I can get testy.”

Elias took a sip from his coffee and said, “Good point.”

Did people who used the word “testy” get into pub fights?

“I was embarrassed about my behavior. One of the few times I try tae put myself in a crowded social situation in some time and this happens.” He pointed at his eye. “I was mightily embarrassed.”

I nodded. “You saw Jenny a week and a half or so before she died. You told me your discussion wasn't relevant. Did you argue? Did voices become raised?”

Monroe sighed as though he felt defeated. It seemed too dramatic but maybe that was just his way.

“I suppose we did argue,” he said.

“About?” Elias jumped in.

“What all the arguments with Jenny were about, now and years ago. Her lifestyle. I believe I placed much more emphasis on her age this time, being over fifty, and how it might have been a good time tae finally grow up. It was another waste of everyone's time, obviously.”

“Did you see her the night she was killed? Were you at her building?”

“No.”

He might have been lying, but it was difficult to tell.

“Were you still in love with Jenny?” I said.

Monroe's eyes got wide. “Gracious, no. Delaney, I'm much more Edwin's friend than I was Jenny's. It's been that way for years, decades. Any reason for me tae have been hard on Jenny or tae have argued with her would ultimately have tae do with my friendship with her brother.”

Honesty shone through with those words. Simple, clear honesty. Anyone could have seen it.

But there was also something else. His words were calculated, I thought. He was trying to tell me something.

“Your friendship with Edwin? Pretty solid then?” I said.

“As solid as they come,” he said, his eyes boring into mine as he finally took a sip of coffee.

“I see.”

“Now, if I've answered your question, I do need tae get tae work. I hope we'll have a chance tae get tae know each other better, particularly since you'll be working for Edwin. Thank you for the coffee.”

I guessed that Monroe was trying to tell me that he'd do anything for his friend, even if that included lying for him, but that was just a guess. If Elias hadn't been with me I would have asked more specific questions about the Folio, but there was so much secrecy around Edwin and the other members of Fleshmarket that I wanted to tread carefully until I understood what Elias could and couldn't know.

“I hope so too,” I said as we all stood. “Thank you for your time.”

Once we were inside the cab it took Elias less than a second to say, “There's a chance that man was at Jenny's flat the night she was kil't. Ye ken that, don't ye?”

“Yeah, I ken that very well.”

 

TWENTY-FIVE

I leaned into the open window of the cab. “I'll be home earlier tonight.”

“Thank ye, lass. We'll try not tae smother ye too much. Have a great day.” He tipped his hat and smiled.

It had only been approximately seven and a half hours since Tom had driven me home. I couldn't think of the last time I'd stayed out so late on a work night. I couldn't make a habit of it, but I didn't feel too much worse for the wear.

“Delaney! Hello, lass,” Edwin said from the doorway just past the dark side of The Cracked Spine. “Come with me. I'm getting some pastries tae start the day. We can chat a moment and you can meet Bruno.”

Relief washed through me. I hadn't realized I was so worried about Edwin's well-being, but it was good to see him alive and well.

“Good morning, Edwin,” I said as I went through the patisserie door. “How are you?”

“I'm all right. Doing a little better today.”

Edwin directed me inside and then followed behind. The door slowly closed behind him. The first things I noticed, of course, were the sweet and fresh aromas. The next thing I noticed was the quaint pink and yellow décor that extended very far back to include a surprisingly large seating area. I didn't know how this building managed to extend so far back when The Cracked Spine's didn't. I'd have to research at some point.

The furniture was wood, stained a medium tone, and the tables and chairs matched the long table next to the front window and a tall wardrobe that had been fitted with shelves. Baked goods were everywhere. All down the wide front table and on the shelves as well as on the side counter and behind the glass that curved around the front of it. Cakes, cookies, brownies, miniature cream pies, and more. I'd never seen so many baked goods.

The third thing I noticed, which really should have been the first, was the man behind the counter. He was big and mean looking, with beefy arms extending from his short-sleeved and stained white T-shirt. He was bald but the shadow of his beard was apparent, even this early in the morning.

“Edwin, come in, friend,” he said in what I thought sounded more like an Irish accent than a Scottish one. When he smiled his murderous eyes took on a jovial crinkle. “Here you go, Mrs. Lassiter. I know the wee-uns will enjoy every crumb of those tarts.” Over the counter he gently handed Mrs. Lassiter a bright pink box.

“Ta,” she said before she turned and stopped in front of Edwin. She was close to the spot that middle age became old age, but her eyes sparkled youthfully.

She said, “Mr. MacAlister, I've heard ye've recently acquired a copy of
The Greenwood Hat
by J. M. Barrie. I would like tae come in and negotiate its purchase.”

“That's great news, Mrs. Lassiter. Please understand that it's an original, not a reprint. It's very expensive.”

“I know, but I do want my own copy.”

“Hamlet has my full permission tae negotiate any book deal with any customer. I believe he's there now.”

She flinched but recovered quickly. I felt my eyebrows come together. What was that about? Edwin didn't seem to mind.

“He's a sweet boy, Mr. MacAlister, but I would prefer tae negotiate with ye. Will ye be in the shop later today? Perhaps this afternoon?”

“I should be. Call first tae make sure, but I would be more than happy tae help.”

“Thank ye.” She smiled my direction in an unfriendly and obligatory manner before she walked around us and out through the door.

“She's a longtime customer. It's difficult for some tae work with anyone but me since they've known me for so long. We'll get her there,” Edwin said. He turned. “Bruno!”

Edwin reached over the counter and he and Bruno shared a friendly and—on Bruno's part—meaty handshake.

“This is our newest bookshop employee, Bruno. Her name is Delaney and she's from Kansas in America.”

“Well, I'll be!” he said with a booming voice. “An American. Welcome to Scotland! You'll never want tae leave. Let me have a look at you—yes, I see, you like fruit tarts best of all, don't you?”

“How did you know?” I said.

“I know these things. Here, the first one's on me. After which you'll receive the neighborhood discount.”

I looked at Edwin, who nodded.

“Thank you,” I said as I took the fruit tart that he'd seemed to magically gather from his side of the counter before putting it on a plate and gently handing it to me.

“Banana nut muffin for you, Edwin?” Bruno said.

“That would be perfect. And two coffees?” He looked at me and I nodded.

“I'm so sorry about Jenny, Edwin,” Bruno said as a banana muffin appeared. It sat on a white paper doily atop a small plate and Bruno's gigantic palm. It looked like a crumb when Bruno held it.

“Thank you, Bruno. She loved your carrot cake.”

“Oh, I know. I hadn't seen her for a while, but she would have at least two pieces at a time when she ordered any at all.”

“You hadn't seen her for a while?” Edwin asked. He was now in possession of the muffin, and it tipped over on its side as he seemed to forget he held it. He caught it just before it fell off the plate.

“No, probably not for a couple months.”

“Interesting,” Edwin said.