“Of course the bomb hadn’t killed Harry,” Hugh said. “Patrick didn’t know that then, but he saw an odd look in Jimmy’s eyes that he could only describe as ‘triumphant.’ Patrick made some crack about Harry’s death opening a big door for Jimmy, and they started to argue. Patrick left in a rage, but only figured out Jimmy’s role after the autopsy.”
“I wish Patrick had told us that earlier,” Judith murmured.
Hugh’s smile was ironic. “Patrick wanted proof, not just a slip of the tongue. He should have told MacRae sooner rather than waiting until he got himself arrested. But nobody’s perfect, and Patrick was determined to solve the crime by himself. The man has quite an ego. He’s also brave and conscientious. He figured that Jimmy wanted me out of the way when the murder was committed, and that I might be in danger when I returned, so he sent two of his security people to take us to a safe house. We stayed there until this morning, when I learned Patrick was going to be arrested. A trick, of course, to bring the elusive Jimmy out into the open. I insisted on moving closer to the action. Philip Fordyce arranged another safe house for us nearby.”
“Where?” Rene asked.
“Kate Gunn’s home,” Hugh replied.
“What?” Renie exploded. “You were eating pizza and guzzling God-knows-what while we were driving ourselves nuts with worry?”
“The pizza was second-rate,” Bill said. “No sausage. One was vegetarian. What’s the point of
Hugh moved away from the fireplace. “I must go. Jimmy still hasn’t been found. But he will be.” He stopped in front of Judith. “And thank you and your agency for the invaluable help.” He saluted and left.
“Agency?” Judith repeated. “Not the CIA, surely!”
“Why not?” Joe said. “It’s better than being called FATSO.”
Judith was stunned. “How could they make such a mistake?”
Joe shrugged. “You know government red tape. I suppose Scotland Yard or British intelligence asked for help in this international oil scam and some bureaucrat lost the memo.”
Judith shook her head. “It could happen. But,” she said, beaming at Joe, “you’re safe. That’s the main thing.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Renie agreed, still on an adrenaline rush. Suddenly she stood still. “Wait a minute. Where did that voice come from? The one that said ‘Open the door’?”
Bill reached into his jacket pocket. “This?” He held out a metal gadget about the size of a matchbook and squeezed the front: “Open the window.” He squeezed again: “Open the gate.” “It’s my latest invention. I brought it along because Hugh knows somebody in the real estate business who’s looking for a gimmick to show houses when the agent isn’t around. I forgot to take it when we went fishing. I left it on the dresser.” Bill frowned at the gadget. “It’s got my name on the back, so MacRae gave it back to me. His sergeant found it in the storage room after Chuckie’s body was removed. It was on top of some boxes.”
“I fell on that box!” Renie exclaimed. “I must have activated it! I’ll bet Chuckie loved playing tricks with that, the little—” She stopped and turned somber. “The poor wee laddie.”
“My, yes,” Judith said, and snapped her fingers as she turned to Renie. “That light in your room that we saw the other evening—I’ll bet it was Chuckie, looking for more gadgets.”
“He must have been disappointed,” Renie said.
“Okay,” Joe said, slapping his hands together. “We’re not going fishing for a couple of days until MacGowan and MacRae wind up this case. What do you lovely ladies want to do tomorrow?”
Judith and Renie exchanged doleful looks. “Uh…” Judith began, “we have to attend a funeral.”
“At least there won’t be another inquest,” Renie put in.
Joe’s face fell; Bill scowled at his wife. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.
“Oh,” Joe finally said, “let the girls have their fun. We could take a boat out on the sea if it’s not too rough.”
“The wind’s almost stopped,” Bill noted as the two men walked toward the window. “I’ve got the names of a couple of rental places.”
“Sounds good,” Joe said. “They’ll have the gear. We need heavy—”
Renie collapsed on the bed. “I’m starved.”
Judith sank into an armchair. “Me, too. And exhausted.”
“We need a vacation,” Renie declared.
“Maybe we should have gone to California,” Judith said.
Renie eyed Judith doubtfully. “You’re kidding!”
Judith smiled. “Of course.”
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Jim Bilsand of the Grampian Police for his generous assistance. If there are any deviations from fact, I alone stand convicted.
About the Author
MARY RICHARDSON DAHEIM is a Seattle native
