Judith turned to Barry. “Where’s Hollywood?” she asked as the name suddenly popped into her head.
“To the left,” Barry said, and turned in that direction. “That’s where Harry lived when he wasn’t at the castle. It’s Moira’s house. Very nice, though I’ve only delivered there twice.”
The elderly car made several strange noises as they passed whitewashed cottages and a row of stone houses. Moments later they were going through the rather flat countryside. Judith didn’t recognize all of the trees that flanked the road, though she saw several tall rowans in bud and a few wild rhododendron bushes.
She judged they’d gone about two miles when Barry slowed down. “The gate to Hollywood’s on your right. We can’t go in, but you can get a glimpse of…Oh, bloody hell! I’m out of petrol!”
The car began to go even slower as Barry fought the wheel to reach the narrow verge. “Sorry. I’d have checked the gauge, but it broke.”
Judith turned to look at Renie, who had been unusually quiet during the ride. Her cousin was petting the hamster in her lap.
“He reminds me of Clarence,” she said. “He’s so soft, and he only tried to bite me once.”
“Great,” Judith murmured. Her thoughts weren’t with Clarence or the hamster or even Renie. She’d been given a golden opportunity and intended to seize it. “Would Moira Gibbs have any petrol to spare?”
Barry chuckled. “Aye, she does at that. But we mustn’t bother her at such a time. I can walk back to the village.” He snapped his fingers. “I forgot. The petrol pump’s closed for the Sabbath.”
“How far are we from the gate to Hollywood?” Judith inquired.
“Just up there,” Barry said, pointing to a stone marker less than twenty-five yards away.
“We have no choice,” Judith declared. “We’ll have to walk to Moira’s house. We met her yesterday at the graveyard.” She turned back to Renie. “Put the hamster in his cage, coz. Let’s go.”
Barry, however, proved reluctant. “We shouldn’t, truly,” he insisted. “Mrs. Gibbs must be all weepy and sad.”
“Then we’ll console her,” Judith said, getting out of the car.
The door fell off.
“Oh no!” she cried. “I’m so sorry!”
“Never mind. It does it all the time,” Barry assured her. “I can tie you in with the emergency brake rope on the way back. I don’t know what I’d do without that rope. Really handy, it is.”
Judith and Barry walked up the road. Renie trailed, having taken the time to restore The Bruce to his little wire home. Turning in at the stone marker, which bore the engraved name hollywood house, Judith noticed that the iron gates were shut. She could see a Georgian house with a circular drive where a red BMW sports car was parked.
She could also hear laughter.
It didn’t sound to Judith as if Moira Gibbs was mourning her late husband.
9
Moira Gibbs and the man named Patrick were holding hands as they started up the steps to the elegant three-story house. Judith recognized Patrick from his sturdy build and the leather jacket he’d worn when he met Jimmy on the beach after the explosion.
The couple apparently hadn’t seen the trio at the gate. Judith called to them while Renie looked for a buzzer or an intercom. Barry, however, simply gaped in disbelief at Patrick and Moira.
“That’s no way to act,” Barry muttered. “If somebody blew up Alison, I’d feel quite glum.”
Judith’s shouts were ignored by the couple, who headed inside the house without turning around. Renie, however, had found a keypad. She poked a button labeled visitor. Judith could hear a stilted masculine voice respond.
“You got gas?” Renie asked.
“Pardon?” the masculine voice said, sounding affronted.
“Gas, petrol, whatever you call it here. We’re stuck,” Renie said. “Tell Moira that Hugh MacGowan wouldn’t like us having problems. The name’s Jones, by the way. The other one is Flynn. Moira knows us.”
Judith was leaning over Renie’s shoulder. She heard a woman respond but couldn’t make out the words. After a brief pause the stilted voice resumed speaking. “You may enter. The mistress will see you.”
“Nice work,” Judith said to Renie as the gates opened smoothly.
“Amazing!” Barry exclaimed under his breath. “I wouldn’t have dared in a million years!”
“Pushy Americans,” Renie said. “That’s why everybody hates us. We have no manners.”
The cousins started up the drive until Judith realized that Barry was still standing outside the gate. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’ll stay by the car. I wouldn’t want anyone to steal it. Ha-ha.”
“‘Ha-ha’ is right,” Renie murmured. “Nobody would steal that crate even for spare parts.”
“He’s obviously intimidated by his so-called betters,” Judith said.
“That’s the problem,” Renie said. “We think we’re better, too.”
“I think it’s called equality,” Judith pointed out.
