Scots on the Rocks

14

The house Kate Gunn had confiscated from her late husband’s mistress was a modern, curving structure of glass and stucco set high above the sands. The landscaping looked almost tropical, with tall fronds, exotic grasses, and even a couple of palm trees.

“California style?” Judith said in surprise.

Beth laughed. “You’d be surprised—parts of this area have a very mild climate, due to the land formation and the ocean currents.”

Judith nodded. “We have a place like that in our own state on the Northwest Coast. It’s called the Sun Belt.”

“Exactly,” Beth agreed. She paused at the foot of a winding stone stairway. “Let’s hear the latest news from Mummy’s astrologer.”

The double doors were made of beveled glass decorated with intersecting mahogany arcs. Judith and Beth were greeted by a middle-aged woman wearing what Judith thought was a very bad red wig.

“Come in, Miss Beth,” she said with a deferential nod. “Mrs. Gunn has a guest in the sunroom, but I’ll tell her you’re here with…?” She looked questioningly at Judith.

“Hello, Una. This is Mrs. Flynn,” Beth said. “Who is Mummy entertaining? It can’t be the Wizard of Oz.”

“Now, now, Miss Beth,” Una said, though her blue eyes twinkled, “you mustn’t be unkind about Master Ross Wass. He’s a great comfort to your mother. In any case, he won’t be here until evening.”

Upon entering the sunroom, Judith felt as if she were walking into a jungle. Hibiscus, aphelandra, anthurium, dieffenbachia, philodendron, various ferns, and even orchids were everywhere, some growing from floor to ceiling. The east wall was all glass, and the high humidity as well as the temperature hit Judith like a blast of steam. There was so much foliage, in fact, that Judith couldn’t see any sign of Mrs. Gunn.

“Sorry about the heat,” Beth murmured after Una had shown them in and departed. “Mummy’s somewhere in here, probably between the frangipani and the Venus flytraps.”

“Mummy” was sitting in a white wicker armchair. Her guest apparently was seated across from her, but was concealed from Judith’s sight by the chair’s high back.

“Beth!” Kate Gunn exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were coming. How nice. Do sit.” She peered at Judith. “Is that Mrs….?”

“Flynn,” said a voice coming from the other chair. “Hi, coz.” Renie grinned between the glossy leaves of a fiddle-leafed fig. “Kate and I are being all matey. Sit. You’ll lose a pound a minute in this humidity.”

Kate Gunn laughed. “Oh, Serena, you’re such a tease!” She paused while Judith and Beth sat down on a love seat that matched the other chairs. “I had no idea,” she said to Judith, “that your cousin has special powers.”

“Ah…” Judith was tempted to say, “Neither did I,” but suddenly recalled Renie’s pretense at reading fireplace ashes a few months earlier in an attempt to elicit information from a murder suspect. “She’s a sight, all right. I mean,” Judith amended, “she has the sight.”

Renie shrugged and made an attempt to look modest. “I couldn’t help myself. I felt compelled to study the ashes in the grate at Grimloch and I saw that Kate was in trouble. I had Gibbs bring me over here on his motorcycle. Sure enough, Kate was in peril.”

“Oh,” Kate Gunn said, “it was incredible! Una, my housekeeper, had gone to the market and I was all alone. I looked outside about an hour ago, expecting Una to be back shortly, and I saw a witch! She was bent over my herb garden, sprinkling something on the coriander and dill. I pounded on the window, but she cackled and rushed off. Serena showed up not five minutes later. Imagine!”

Judith could imagine, though she wondered where her cousin had gotten the witch’s costume. “How fortuitous,” she murmured.

“A witch?” Beth sounded skeptical. “Did you call the police?”

Mrs. Gunn frowned at her daughter. “Of course not! They never believe me. You know how they’ve acted in the past when I’ve had to summon them. They think I’m fanciful or just a nuisance.”

Beth smiled wryly. “Well, you have had some odd complaints.”

Mrs. Gunn looked indignant. “Nonsense! The midge attacks were frightful last summer. I wanted the police to spray those pesky insects before they clogged up my ears and nose. As for the deer that ate my plants, I had to threaten to poison them before the police would do anything. Not to mention the car that destroyed my nephrolepis fern—and on the feast day of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, God’s Little Flower! Too ironic! That driver should have been arrested for recklessness. If I’d been a heavy sleeper, I’d never have heard the impact and discovered how my poor fern got run over. I’d nurtured it from a small cutting.” Her face softened as she looked at Renie. “As for Serena, we’ve made amends. She said that it was at our awkward meeting in the woolen shop where she sensed my aura and later realized I was in danger.”

“Really,” Beth said, looking benign. “Speaking of the occult, I don’t suppose Master Wass has any insights into Harry’s murder.”

Mrs. Gunn grew serious. “Not precisely. He did mention a conspiracy, but had no specifics. The planets aren’t properly aligned.”

“So,” Beth said, “you haven’t talked to the police at all?”

Mrs. Gunn looked puzzled. “I told you, there was no need to call them. Serena arrived so quickly and quieted my fears.”

Judith glimpsed her cousin’s smug expression. “She has a calming effect on people.” When she isn’t driving them to distraction, Judith thought to herself, and was aware that she’d begun to perspire.

“I meant,” Beth clarified, “have they asked you about Harry?”

“Why should they?” Mrs. Gunn responded, fingering the gold amulet with an odd circular design that she wore on a short chain around her neck. “I hardly knew him.”

“Because,” Beth explained, “Moira was your daughter-in-law when she was married to Frankie. I thought they might have asked if you knew anything about her second husband.”

“I don’t,” Kate declared, sitting back in the chair and clasping her hands in her lap. “She certainly didn’t consult me about remarrying.”

“Hey, Kate,” Renie said, “are there any more of those scones with your divine blackberry jam?” She licked her lips for emphasis.

“Of course!” Kate exclaimed. “Una can bring more and another pot of tea.” She beamed a rather feral smile at Judith. “Your cousin has a wonderful appetite. I like people who enjoy their food.” Turning slightly, she spoke into a large rubber plant. “Una—more tea, scones, and jam. Blackberry and Seville orange marmalade.”

Una’s voice came from somewhere among the plant’s large green leaves. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll be quick.”

Kate’s smile was self-satisfied. “I have speakers allowing me to communicate and monitor what goes on in every room. Very helpful.”

“Modern technology is amazing,” Judith said.

Kate agreed. “I have cameras as well. Much more convenient than the old methods one had to employ. So awkward drilling all those holes in walls when we lived in our previous house.”

“Ah…” Beth said quickly, “maybe I should help Una with the tea.”

“Of course,” Kate said with a fond smile. “You’re a good daughter. Children are a great comfort as we get older, are they not?”

Renie nodded. “But expensive.”

Kate waved a hand. “Why should they not be? How better to spend one’s money? Of course Beth married well. So did Frankie, though…” She paused and bit her lip. “He was a happy boy, more so than my other sons.” She tapped her gold amulet. “His picture is in this locket. It’s a talisman symbol, the Shri Yantra for luck, money, and success. The goddess of wealth, Mahalakshmi, resides in it.”

“We saw Frankie’s grave at the graveyard,” Judith said as perspiration began to drip down her forehead and neck. “Your husband’s, too. So many people buried there died young.”

“Master Wass foretold my husband’s death and the cause,” Kate said quietly. “I begged Eanruig not to hunt that day, but he ignored me. He often did,” she added bitterly. “A bullet went through his eye.”

“How awful!” Judith exclaimed, reaching for her purse, which seemed even heavier in the overheated sunroom. She took out a handkerchief and wiped her brow. “Was he shot by a stranger?”

“No, alas,” Kate replied. “His close friend, Gabe Montgomery, fired the gun by accident. It drove him mad. He’s been institutionalized.”

“A double tragedy,” Judith murmured, taking another swipe at her forehead. “How many children do you have, Mrs. Gunn?”

“Do call me Kate.” She smiled at Renie. “Serena does. I had difficulties conceiving in the early years of our marriage, but eventually I had ten. To my sorrow, Louie died young, even younger than Frankie. My twin daughters Joan and Vicki died at birth. I almost died, too.” She looked away as her eyes glistened with tears. “That’s why,” she said softly, “I’d do anything for the ones who are still with me.”

“Goodness,” Judith gasped, “you’ve had your share of troubles.”

“The world is a troubling place,” Kate murmured. “We merely pass through. Perhaps you noticed my other children buried near Frankie.”

“We didn’t read all the markers,” Judith admitted.

“I’ll take flowers this week,” Kate said, more to herself than to the cousins. “The past few days have distracted me.” She looked up. “Ah—here’s Beth. The silver service was made by Cellini. My mother was Italian.”

“It’s stunning,” Judith said, admiring the intricate craftsmanship.

“Ah,” Renie said weakly.

Judith realized that her cousin hadn’t uttered a peep in the last few minutes. One look at Renie told Judith why: she was sweating profusely and wore a dazed expression. The sunroom was exacting a high price on Renie, but there had to be a reason for her sacrifice.

“Lovely,” Judith declared as Beth poured tea and passed around the scones, butter, jam, and marmalade. “We’ve enjoyed your preserves at Grimloch. You must be very fond of your son-in-law Philip.”

“He’s an astute businessman,” Kate said. “Isn’t he, Beth?”

“Brilliant,” Beth said, passing the sugar, cream, and lemon. “He’s a workaholic. It’s very hard to get him to take an occasional break. I warn him to slow down. He’s reached a point in his life where he can well afford to enjoy himself. People aren’t going to stop drinking whiskey.”

Kate smirked. “Of course not. But your Philip needs to seek broader horizons. It’s what tells him he’s still alive.”

“Mummy…” Beth gave her mother a warning look.

“Yes, yes,” Kate said, holding up a hand. “I’ll be quiet.”

“You must show our guests some of your orchids before we go,” Beth said. “I should be getting back to Grimloch with Mrs. Flynn and Mrs. Jones.”

“Of course,” Kate agreed, getting up. “Bear in mind, orchids don’t all bloom at the same time. There are basically two types…”

Holding their teacups, Judith and Renie followed Kate in a daze of heat and humidity. It was difficult to focus on the exotic blooms, despite their beauty. Ten minutes later, Judith felt as if she might pass out. Fortunately, Beth came to the rescue.

“Sorry about the tropical atmosphere,” she said after they got in the Daimler. “Mummy’s circulation is poor, so she doesn’t notice it, and I’ve spent so much time in Spain that I can tolerate it for a short while.”

“Your mother’s interesting,” Judith said. “She’s serious about the astrology thing, I gather.”

“Very,” Beth replied. “She got into it early on, when she was trying to get pregnant. I’ll admit some of the astrologers’ predictions have been rather uncanny.”

“I noticed,” Judith said, “you didn’t mention the dustup at Hollywood House.”

“What dustup?” Renie asked, still fanning herself with her hand.

“Later,” Judith murmured.

“Just as well I didn’t say anything about it,” Beth said, slowing for the turn to St. Fergna. “Mummy loves conflict. You’d have been in for endless speculation if I’d brought the subject up.”

“I see,” Judith said, though it occurred to her that Kate’s opinions might be interesting. “Beth, could you drop us off in the village? We have to change our money. We’ll call Gibbs later to collect us.”

“He should have his car back by midafternoon,” Beth said. “There’s the bank, just up ahead.”

“Great,” Judith said as Beth pulled into the car park. “Will you be around for dinner this evening?”

“I don’t know,” Beth replied, “it’s up to—” She was interrupted by a cell phone’s ring. “That’s mine. Go ahead, I should answer.”

Renie got out of the backseat, but Judith was still struggling with her heavy purse when she heard Beth let out a gasp.

“That’s daft!” she exclaimed. “What could Chuckie possibly know?”

Judith waited.

“I don’t believe it,” Beth declared. “He wants attention. I’ll be there shortly.” She rang off and looked at Judith. “That was Phil. Chuckie’s been sulking all day, so Phil finally tried to make up after their row yesterday. But that wasn’t why Chuckie was upset. The police haven’t interviewed him, and he wants to tell them he knows who killed Harry.”

What took so long?” Renie asked as Judith joined her by the bank entrance. “I thought you’d sweated so much you got glued to the seat.”

“I would’ve,” Judith replied, “if Beth hadn’t turned on the AC. Let’s go to the bank and then have lunch. It’s been quite a morning. Beth just heard from Philip saying that Chuckie knows who murdered Harry.”

Renie stopped on the cobblestones that led into the bank. “Who?”

Judith shrugged. “I don’t think Philip knows. Chuckie wants to tell the police. Of course he may be fantasizing.”

Renie frowned. “I hope he tells what he knows to the right people.”

Judith nodded. “Yes. Otherwise he could put himself in danger.”

The cousins went into the bank. Neither knew exactly what to do when it was their turn in the short queue, but the clerk with the shaved head and goatee was patient and helpful. Twenty minutes later, Judith and Renie found a pub off the alley behind the bank. The Rood & Mitre was much quieter and more pleasant than the Yew and Eye.

At almost one o’clock, the pub was busy with customers. The decor was minimal but tasteful, mainly pen-and-ink drawings of local sights, including the castle. The cousins each ordered a glass of ale.

“No Old Engine Oil here,” Renie remarked. “I’m going to try the scampi and chips. They come with a salad.”

“I’m not very hungry after eating Kate’s scone,” Judith said. “I’ll get a prawn cocktail and a small salad.” She put the menu aside. “Tell me what brought you to Kate’s house.”

“Boredom,” Renie replied. “Once I was awake, I realized there wasn’t much to do at the castle, and I didn’t want to run into Chuckie. Thus I was inspired to tackle Kate Gunn by using my special powers.”

“Dressed as a witch?” Judith said with a wry smile.

“Easy,” Renie replied. “I borrowed your cape and cackled a lot.” She hoisted the shopping bag she’d brought with her. “Your cape’s safe, except for some salt sprinklings. I stashed it by her front steps for easy retrieval. I poured the salt on the herb garden while uttering strange incantations that were actually the Notre Dame fight song.”

Judith shook her head in disbelief. “And she fell for it.”

“Sure,” Renie said. “She’s credulous enough to believe in astrology. I figured she’d bite like a cat gobbling a canary.”

“Some bright people take astrology seriously,” Judith pointed out.

“Oh, I know,” Renie explained, “but I had a feeling—not from my so-called special powers, but more from my gut—that Kate’s superstitious.”

“So what did you learn before I arrived? Or were you too busy filling your face with scones and jam?”

“I didn’t learn as much as I’d have liked,” Renie admitted. “She did talk more about Moira. I got the impression she appreciated Moira’s concern and affection for Frankie, but that mother-in-law and daughter-in-law weren’t close. When I mentioned we’d met Moira putting roses on Davey Piazza’s grave, Mrs. Gunn made a crack about Moira remembering her assistant with more fondness than she had for her first husband.”

Judith recalled that there weren’t any flowers where Frankie was buried. “He’s in the family plot with all those dead children and their father. Maybe Moira lets Kate take care of it.”

“Anyway,” Renie said, “my theory got shot all to hell.”

“What theory?” Judith asked.

“That Kate would do anything for her children—and even an ex-daughter-in-law,” Renie explained. “Especially if she wanted to marry Moira off to another one of her eligible sons.”

Judith grimaced. “You mean do anything like…murder?”

“I think Kate can be devious,” Renie said as a lad with shaggy magenta hair arrived to take their lunch order.

“Did you deduce that aspect of her character from the aura you sensed?” Judith inquired with a smirk.

“I deduced it from her spying devices around the house,” Renie replied. “Didn’t that set off some alarms in your brain?”

“Well…yes,” Judith replied. “I considered her a control freak.”

“It’s no wonder her other children don’t live at home,” Renie noted. “Two are at university, but the older three either live in the Glasgow family home or are on their own. Who’d want Mummy spying on them?”

“True.” Judith sipped her dark ale. It was quite bitter, but she’d drink it down. The half hour in the sunroom seemed to have dehydrated her. “Let me tell you what happened at Hollywood House.”

“I’m agog,” Renie said. “Go for it.”

The cousins were halfway through their meal before Judith finally finished. Renie was intrigued. “Wish I hadn’t missed all that,” she said. “Especially the part where you threw your purse at Seumas Bell.”

“That reminds me,” Judith said, “I must’ve overloaded my purse this morning. It feels like it weighs ten pounds.”

“Mine does,” Renie asserted. “I weighed it at the airport. Of course I still had a pint of Wild Turkey in it then.”

“You would. I’m sure it was empty by the time we reached thirty thousand feet.” She hauled her purse onto her lap. “When I travel, I tend to toss in things I might need during the—” She stopped as she felt something cold, hard, and unfamiliar. “There’s a…box or…what is this?” She removed a round, footed silver case embossed with gold rose petals and leaves. “Where did this come from?”

Renie stared at the elegant box. “You stole it?”

“Don’t be cute,” Judith said, trying to open the case. “Honestly, I swear it wasn’t in my purse when I left Grimloch this morning.”

“Where did you leave your purse unattended?”

Judith was still struggling to unfasten the case. “Let me think…At Hollywood House. I left it in Moira’s sitting room while I was talking to MacRae. Ah!” The clasp finally gave and the lid snapped open. To Judith’s surprise, there were no glittering jewels inside the velvet-lined box. “It looks like a bunch of paper.”

Renie put out a hand. “Let’s see.”

There were at least a half dozen sheets of paper stuffed inside. Judith handed three of them to Renie and kept the rest for herself.

“Emails,” Renie said. “Who saves email printouts?”

Judith scanned the first two. “Welcome to the twenty-first century. These are love letters. That is, love emails.”

Renie sighed. “There goes romance.” She read through the pages Judith had given her. “You’re right. No actual dates, headings, or to-and-from names. Very fragmentary,” she noted between bites of scampi. “Sign-offs like ‘Yours forever’ and ‘Always together.’ Gack.”

Judith’s eyes widened as she read through the emails she’d kept. “Good Lord! This sounds compromising!” She glanced around the pub to see if anyone was paying attention to the cousins. The other customers seemed involved with their own conversations and meals. Judith lowered her voice anyway. “Listen to this—‘Darling—It won’t be long now. I’m counting the hours until we’re together. Just remember, once my problem is solved, nothing stands in our way. All my love goes with you.’ What does that sound like?”

Renie scratched her head. “Well…I realize you’re putting it in context. It could be Moira, writing to Patrick.”

Judith regarded Renie with skepticism. “The only place these emails could’ve gotten into my purse was at Hollywood House. I’ve seen Moira’s maid. I know you can’t always go by looks, but she’s not the romantic type. And you’ve met Fergus. He doesn’t cut a dashing figure, either.”

“Right.” Renie looked glum. “These emails look bad for Moira and—I assume—Patrick. Here’s another one. ‘I’m making an early night of it and going to bed. Wish you were with me. The sun is setting, but it always shines when we’re together.’ And how about this? ‘Your days are so full and my arms are so empty. I kiss the sprig of heather you gave me, knowing that though it is the last of the season and will wither and fade, our love will not.’ Double gack.”

Judith shook her head. “It’s a wonder we’re not gagging on our food. But how did these emails end up in my purse?” She put her napkin on the table. “Let’s call Gibbs to have him pick us up. I’m very curious about Chuckie.”

Renie polished off the last of her chips. “I can use my cell phone. What are you going to do with those emails?”

“I should turn them over to MacRae along with the silver case. It may be an heirloom,” Judith replied, “but I’d like to find out if my purse was a convenient stash or I’m being used.” She signaled to their server to bring the bill.

Renie had called Gibbs to tell him where they were. “Shall we meet you on the High Street?” she asked.

Judith waited for Renie to speak again. Their server nodded, and apparently went to fetch the bill.

“Okay,” Renie said into the phone. “We know where it is. See you there.” She rang off. “He has to collect his car from the mechanic. We’ll meet him at Archie Morton’s garage. It’s only a short walk from here off the beach road.”

Five minutes later, the cousins were walking down the High Street. Fluffy clouds flitted across the sun as a fitful breeze blew off of the sea. As they reached the end of the main thoroughfare, Judith glanced to her right at the cottage called The Hermitage.

“I don’t see a car parked there,” she said. “Patrick must own that red BMW sports model. Maybe he’s still comforting Moira.”

“I’m not convinced she needs comforting,” Renie remarked. “On the other hand, define ‘comfort.’”

As usual, traffic was sparse on the beach road. The gawkers who had ringed the cliff in the aftermath of Harry’s death had gone to ground. So, apparently, had the media. The only people the cousins saw as they walked toward Morton’s Auto Repair were two teenage boys, taking a breather from their bicycles and resting alongside the road.

“Gibbs isn’t on the beach,” Judith noted as they espied the garage’s office entrance. “Maybe he’s already here.”

The only person in the small, cluttered office was the brawny man who resembled Jocko Morton. “Are you Archie?” Judith inquired politely.

“Aye.” He frowned at her from under dark, bushy eyebrows. “What if I am? And ye are…?”

“The Queen of Sheba,” Renie snapped, apparently not taking a liking to the man’s attitude. “We’re here to meet Gibbs from Grimloch.” She grinned and looked at Judith. “Hey—I like that. ‘Gibbs from Grimloch.’ What do you think, coz? Could this be ‘Archie of Aberdeen’?”

Embarrassed, Judith stared at her shoes. “Ask him.”

“Okay, Arch, ol’ bud,” Renie said, “where’s Gibbs?”

“Gibbs isn’t here,” Archie replied, still frowning. “King Solomon’s not here, either. Why don’t you push off?”

“Why,” Renie retorted, “don’t you f—”

Judith swiftly put a hand over Renie’s mouth. “Sorry, Mr. Morton. My cousin’s…drunk.” She winced as Renie bit her. “We’ll wait outside.”

“Good idea,” Archie muttered.

Judith literally dragged Renie outside. “What got into you?” she demanded.

Renie’s brown eyes spit fire. “I don’t trust that guy. He’s not a mechanic. He doesn’t have dirt under his fingernails.”

“Oh, for—” Judith held her head. “He owns the shop. He probably has mechanics working for him.”

“He has pig eyes,” Renie said. “Just like his brother Jocko.”

“Forget it,” Judith said. “You can’t antagonize everyone in the village. You’re damned lucky Kate Gunn forgave you.”

“And vice versa,” Renie asserted, looking mulish. “I wouldn’t have bothered if I hadn’t been bored and wanting to help you sleuth.”

“I appreciate it.” Judith moved toward the road and gazed out toward Grimloch. “Here comes Gibbs.”

Renie was looking in the other direction. Judith followed her gaze. Around the corner from the small office was the repair area. Three men were working on two cars. A black Volvo sedan was up on a hoist; a green SUV had its hood raised. Five other vehicles including a gray vintage Morris saloon were parked behind a chain-link fence. Judith assumed the Morris belonged to Gibbs. A Doberman patrolled the area.

Three minutes later, Gibbs arrived, doffed his cap at the cousins, and went into the office. Five minutes passed. Renie was growing impatient. Judith passed the time by watching the mechanics, who appeared to be as diligent as they were good-natured. Although she couldn’t make out the words, she could tell from their manner that they were ribbing each other as they worked.

“What’s taking so long?” Renie demanded. “Does Gibbs have to work off the repair bill?”

“Here he comes,” Judith said as Gibbs and Archie Morton headed for the chained-off area. “I suggest we stand by the road. I don’t want you duking it out with Archie and causing another Ugly American scene.”

Almost another five minutes passed before Gibbs got behind the wheel and drove out through a gate Archie had opened for him. The saloon stopped so the cousins could get in. Gibbs merely grunted a greeting. His lined face still showed the ravages of his grandson’s death.

As they drove down the dirt track, Judith broke the silence. “Is Archie a good mechanic?” she asked.

Gibbs nodded. “The best. He’s kin.”

“My,” Judith remarked, “there are lots of family links here.”

“’Tis a village,” Gibbs pointed out. “Little changes in St. Fergna.”

“I guess not,” Judith said.

“I’ll let you off by the lift,” Gibbs said. “I keep the car in the shed on the beach. But the shed be gone now, blown up wit’ Harry’s car.”

Judith had forgotten about the wooden shed she’d seen on her first morning at Grimloch. She and Renie had been with Harry at the time. She shuddered in spite of herself. “Oh. Yes. We feel so awful about imposing on you and Mrs. Gibbs at such a time.”

“Canna be helped,” Gibbs said, slowing down as they neared the foot of the cliff. “Here ye be.”

Judith and Renie got out and went straight to the lift. The diving birds roamed the shore just where the low tide was lapping at the sands. More clouds were gathering, but the air smelled fresh and salty.

The lift had already been summoned from above. “Someone must be using it,” Judith said, craning her neck to see the cage. “It’s coming.”

The contraption made its usual rattle-rattle-bang noises as it descended. At ground level, Judith saw Chuckie grinning between the bars. He looked not unlike a chimp at the zoo.

“Hallooo!” Chuckie called. “You going up?”

“Yes,” Judith said.

Chuckie shook his head. “Not with me.” Still grinning, he poked the button and the lift began to ascend.

“Hey, twerp!” Renie called. “Come back here!”

The lift rose ten feet and stopped. It started again and went up another six feet. Judith could hear Chuckie laughing. At last, the cage came back to ground level.

“Hallooo!” Chuckie cried again. “Do you know the password?”

“It’s ‘I won’t beat Chuckie to a pulp if he lets us in,’” Renie snapped.

“Close enough,” Chuckie said, no longer grinning. “Hop in.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Gibbs?” Judith said, stepping into the lift.

Chuckie shook his head. “He always tinkers with that old car of his. Fifty years he’s had it. Must run on witchcraft.” He punched the button to start the lift. “It seems Archie Morton’s a warlock.”

“I heard,” Judith said over the creaking and clattering of cage and cables, “you want to talk to the police.”

“Oh, I do.” Chuckie smiled slyly. “I know a thing or two.”

“You mustn’t tell anyone but the detectives,” Judith cautioned.

Chuckie didn’t respond. His smile faded as he pushed another button. The lift stopped halfway up the cliff.

“Why did you do that?” Renie demanded.

“The view,” Chuckie said. “See the waves? Gentle now, but March winds can churn them up to five times as tall as any mere man. Even a man as tall as Harry. See the sands. Tiny grains, each as wee as a flea. But together they ring the rocks and form the shore. Small things can become gigantic. Don’t you agree?”

“Sure,” Renie said. “I remember my cousin’s first husband.”

“Coz!” Judith shot Renie a dirty look. “Yes, Chuckie, I understand what you’re saying. And the view is impressive. Could we go up now?”

Chuckie didn’t seem to hear her. “Birds, dolphins, shellfish, all teeming with life. All those shipwrecks, flotsam and jetsam,” he murmured. “Then—boom! Harry is flotsam and jetsam, gone forever.”

The wind had suddenly picked up, blowing through the bars of the cage. Judith was getting nervous. “Very sad,” she said quietly. “I really would like to go to my room. My purse is heavy.”

“So’s my shopping bag,” Renie said, jiggling the big sack in which she’d put Judith’s new cape. “Let’s go, before I get really annoyed.”

Chuckie scowled. “Don’t you want to know who killed Harry?”

“As I mentioned,” Judith said, “you mustn’t confide in anyone but the police. You could put yourself at risk.”

Chuckie hooted. “What do you know about murder?”

Judith didn’t feel like telling Chuckie that she knew murder far too well. “If you’re sure who killed Harry, you’ve a moral obligation to tell the police. Why didn’t you speak up yesterday when they were at Grimloch?”

Chuckie started to pout. “I wasn’t ready. I was hiding.”

“Okay,” Judith said reasonably. “Let’s call them when we get inside the castle. If you could help the police, you’d be a real hero.”

Chuckie stared down at his sneakers but said nothing.

The brief silence was broken by a weird yet familiar cry.

Judith looked all around. On a narrow rocky cliff she saw the great northern diver. His white breast puffed out as he uttered that chilling sound from his long, sharp beak.

Chuckie cringed and covered his face with his hands. “I hate that bird! He’ll peck out my eyes!”

“Not if we get the hell out of here,” Renie said, leaning across Chuckie’s bowed back to poke the lift button. “It’d serve you right for stranding us on this damned cliff.”

The cage clattered up to the castle level. Gratefully, Judith made a hasty exit with Renie right behind her. Chuckie remained inside, still bent over and covering his face.

“Come on,” Judith urged, looking down the cliffside to see the bird fly off toward the beach. “You’re safe.”

Slowly, Chuckie stood up and dropped his hands to his sides. “If,” he mumbled as he walked out of the lift, “I’d had some oranges, I could have thrown them at that awful creature. I like most birds. I watch them with my really special binoculars. But not that one. It’s evil.”

Judith walked toward the castle entrance just as a light rain began to fall. “Let’s ask Mrs. Gibbs to make tea,” she called over her shoulder.

“I hate tea,” Chuckie said, kicking at some loose rocks along the edge of the walk. “You won’t listen to me. I’m going to my special place.”

“We’ll listen,” Judith said, stopping short of the guests’ door.

But Chuckie moved away, hands in his pockets, head down.

Judith watched him go past the chapel. “Chuckie’s going to the dungeon,” she said, sounding worried. “I think that’s a really bad idea.”