“I’ll think about it.” She closed her fingers and pulled back her hand.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I need to know what happened.” She nodded toward the window. “I hear there was a murder. I saw the body bag coming out of the close, but I need confirmation that someone didn’t just keel over on their own.” She waited and blinked. When I didn’t say anything, she continued, “There’s so much mystery around the owner of the shop. And there’s that secret room of his, or so I’ve heard.” She nodded at the window again. “Is it right inside that window? The room? Boost me up?”
“I’m not going to answer your questions, but I believe Edwin said he would talk to you tomorrow,” I said as I made my way around her. She didn’t move to give me any extra space, and the squeeze-through only made me clench my teeth tighter.
“He said I could stop by tomorrow, but he didn’t say that he’d talk tae me,” she said as she followed behind. “You work there? You sound like you’re from America. Where?”
“Look, I have to go,” I said. “Stop by and talk to Edwin tomorrow.”
“I’ll just get the police report today,” she said. “Then I’ll write a boring, police-facts-only article. Or, maybe I’ll add the part about the redhead from America who seems to work at the shop being spotted later, suspiciously trying to look into the window under which the body might have been found. I see the window has been broken out. Aye, that could make it interesting.”
I no longer disliked her only because she was so pretty and had dated Tom.
“Print whatever you like. It’s your integrity on the line,” I said.
“Good one.”
I kept walking.
“You don’t want to know about the witches buried down there?” she said as she kept pace with me, now outside the close. “Most tourists love the story.”
“I’m not a tourist…” I said before I realized what she was doing.
“So you do work there?”
I kept walking.
“Anyway. Back in the day, they used tae roll accused witches down the hill on the other side of the Royal Mile. There used tae be a loch there right where the Princes Street Gardens are now located. It was where everyone who lived on the Royal Mile dumped their waste; nasty business. If the woman being rolled into the filthy loch drowned, she wasn’t a witch. If she didn’t drown she was, so she’d be brought over here tae Grassmarket and hanged or burned at the stake. A lose-lose situation, if you ask me. There’s legend that there was someone, or perhaps a number of someones, who liked tae steal the hung bodies and bury them down the close, right outside their room. People lived more in rooms down here, not flats, but you know what I mean. I don’t know if the legend has any truth tae it, but there’s no record of anyone being arrested for the weird behavior. I know because I did a story on it once. Have you heard of the Renegade Scot?”
I certainly had heard of the paper. I’d read it frequently, along with any other newspaper I came across. I still didn’t know nearly enough about my new home; reading the local newspapers, even those with “renegade” in the masthead, was one way to learn. I didn’t admit that to her, though. In fact, I had to force myself to keep ignoring her. She was interesting.
She was not to be deterred. “Really, it’s true! It’s called Wardens Close now, but it used to be Auld Bane Close until someone higher up in the government found out their ancestor lived there and was an old prison warden.”
“Auld Bane?” I said, because I couldn’t help myself.
“Right. That’s Scots for ‘Old Bone.’ Clever, huh?”
I’d known about “auld” but not “bane.” Seemed obvious now.
“Interesting,” I conceded.
“I know lots of interesting things,” she said. “I’m always happy to share my stories.”
“I’m sure,” I said, trying hard not to like any part of her, including her undeniable charm, evident even through her pushiness.
“But just tell me this, yes or no, was there a murder at the bookshop?” she asked just as I spotted the approaching bus.
“Come by the bookshop tomorrow,” I said. “I’m sure Edwin will talk to you.”
I boarded the bus and took a seat halfway down the aisle. I was glad she didn’t board too. I’d escaped her for today, but my relief was short-lived. I looked out the window and watched as she turned away from the bus stop and started marching purposefully toward Tom’s pub.
It looked like she wasn’t going to “ring” him after all.
EIGHT
I hadn’t meant to go to Sophie and Rena’s flat, but when the bus stopped near their building I hopped up and joined the others who were disembarking.
I stood outside a long time, looking for a police car or something that might dissuade me from checking on my friends. Neither police cars nor police officers were in the vicinity, so I pushed through the gate and made my way to the front door.
I couldn’t see her watching me from inside, but the underclassman I’d recognized at the pub opened the front door. Her eyes were red and puffy.
“Did you hear?” she asked as she sniffed. “Did you hear about the murder?”
“I did, and I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m a friend of Sophie and Rena’s. I saw you last night at the pub. My name is Delaney.”
“Hi.” She sniffed again. “Lola. I didn’t see you last night. Were you with Mallory too?”
“I was.”
“Do you know what happened to her?”
“I don’t. I’m sorry,” I said again.
“We’re all so distraught. How did this happen? Did you see Mallory with anyone else last night? Dr. Eban was there. Did he talk to her?”
“I’m not sure. Why do you ask?” I said. She spoke about Dr. Eban as if I should know exactly who he was, and that she hadn’t noticed him join our table. I didn’t
