something floating in the water. Or the Scotch. In fact, it looks like a—” Lightning flashed through the narrow windows. Judith sucked in her breath as thunder rattled the casements. “Holy Mother!” she gasped, reeling backwards toward Renie. “It looks like a head!”
16
Chuckie?” Renie said under her breath.
“I don’t know.” Judith was shaking from the shock. “We’ve got to find the cops.” She steadied herself to recover the strength she needed to put one foot in front of the other. Five minutes later they were back in the kitchen, asking Mrs. Gibbs if she knew the whereabouts of the police.
“They went to your rooms,” she replied, sorting pippins as she peered at Judith. “Are ye ill? You’re verra pale.”
“Just…tired,” Judith fibbed. “Thanks.”
The cousins found the constables knocking on the Flynns’ door. Glen and Adamson both removed their regulation caps when they saw Judith and Renie. “We’re here about the theft,” the taller one said.
Judith recalled that he was Adamson. “Never mind that now.” She let the constables in as Renie excused herself to fetch her emergency eye medication. “Please,” Judith emphasized after she stood near the hearth and tried to sound rational, “don’t think I’m fantasizing. But a few minutes ago Mrs. Jones and I went into the storage room and opened the trapdoor to the dungeon.” She paused, taking in the constables’ stoic faces. “I used a flashlight to look at that barrel in the dungeon because it didn’t make sense to have it filled with water.”
Adamson’s cheeks turned slightly pink; Glen frowned, his eyes avoiding Judith. “A leak,” said Glen. “Something spilled from above.”
“That is possible,” she allowed, “but I saw a head in that barrel. You must look. It’s very strange.”
“A human head?” Glen said, looking skeptical.
“So it appears,” Judith replied. “It could be Chuckie.”
The constables exchanged quick, stupefied glances. “We’ll check it out,” Adamson said. “You’d better stay here.”
That was fine with Judith. She had no desire to watch a body being recovered after what must have been a gruesome way to die. “We’ll talk about the theft later,” she said, seeing the constables to the door.
As soon as they were gone, Judith went across the hall to Renie’s room. Her cousin was cussing and struggling with eye patch, gauze, and tape. “I’m out of practice,” she complained. “What did the cops do when you told them they had to go bobbing for heads in a barrel?”
“Only one head, I hope,” Judith said, sinking into an armchair. “For all I know, they think I’m nuts.”
Renie looked in the mirror and realized that the patch was on crooked. “Damn. These things are tricky, but the good news is that the medication is working so that I can see out of my other eye. Sort of.”
“Good.” Judith shifted restlessly in the chair. “I hate the waiting game. If that’s a corpse, Adamson and Glen will bring in their superiors, a medic, and God knows who all. It could be an hour or more before we hear anything.” She stood up. “Let’s go back to the dungeon.”
Renie was aghast. “No! I don’t want to see a pickled person! I wouldn’t take biology in high school or eat pickled pigs’ feet!”
“Then I’ll go by myself,” Judith said, heading for the door.
“Oooh…” Renie tossed the small box containing her eye supplies onto the bureau. “Okay, I’m coming. But I’ll gripe the whole time.”
“You always do,” Judith said resignedly.
By the time the cousins reached the storage room, Adamson had climbed down into the dungeon. Glen, seeing Judith and Renie, held up a hand. “No closer, please. And keep silent.” He bent down again to talk to his fellow officer. “Well?”
“A head,” Adamson confirmed. “And a body—a dead one at that.”
“Chuckie?” Judith said, a hand to her breast.
Adamson didn’t answer right away. “A wee laddie,” he finally said, his voice lower. “Can you identify this Chuckie?”
Judith blanched. “No. Let his father do that.” She leaned against a stack of cartons and prayed. Chuckie had mentioned that sometimes he slept in a barrel. Maybe he’d been joking. But now, Judith thought sadly, a barrel was where he’d gone to sleep for all eternity.
Glen helped Adamson out of the dungeon. Both constables looked embarrassed. “The initial search should’ve been more thorough,” Adamson said, brushing dust and cobwebs from his regulation jacket. “But who’d expect to find a body in a whiskey cask?”
Judith kept from saying that she’d found bodies in stranger places. “It’s…unusual,” she allowed.
“Aye,” Glen said somberly. “I’ll fetch his father. Mr. Fordyce returned a while ago.”
Adamson nodded to his fellow constable. “I’ll stand guard and call the guv.” He turned sad gray eyes on the cousins. “Do you want to go?”
Renie started to open her mouth but Judith beat her to it. “No. Unless regulations prevent us from staying.”
“Nae,” Adamson said, dialing his cell phone. “DCI MacRae told us to consider you part of the investigative team.”
“He did?” Judith asked, surprised. “That is, I know he—”
