“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.”
15
When the cousins reached the guest quarters, they went into the Flynns’ room where Renie hung the woolen cape in the wardrobe and Judith put the silver jewel case on the bed.
“Now,” she said, “I’m calling the cops.”
“About those emails?” Renie asked.
“No,” she replied, digging out her cell phone. “About Chuckie. He may or may not know who killed Harry, but if he’s bragging about it, he could be in danger.” A moment later, she was connected to DCI MacRae.
“The wee laddie, eh?” MacRae said thoughtfully. “Is he credible?”
Judith hesitated. “Possibly not,” she admitted, “but something occurred to me when we were in the castle lift. My cousin and I went down to the beach after the explosion. When we returned, the lift was up. It shouldn’t have been since no one else mentioned using it. I wonder if the killer sought refuge in the castle after Harry’s car blew up.”
“Ah! We knew we could count on you to notice even the smallest shard of evidence. So this Chuckie lad may have seen that person?”
“He could have,” Judith said, “or he might have witnessed something on the beach before the murder and the explosion. Which, do you think, came first?”
