“Hell yes, I’m afraid,” answered Dennis. He was feeling smug, having finally turned the tables on his aggressor. Still, he didn’t completely trust that the strips of shredded tablecloth would hold, and he stayed ready to retaliate in the event of an attack.
“What... what is this?” Spinner murmured. He shook against his bonds. “Do you really think you can get away with this? I’m a cop!”
“No you aren’t,” replied Dennis confidently. “Not even close.”
“Yeah, a bloody nutter is what you are,” Bobo added. He squirted Spinner with the water pistol again.
“Stop that,” the detective sputtered.
“You’re in no place to make demands, mate.” Another jet of water landed just below Spinner’s eye.
“Bobo, don’t antagonize him,” cautioned Dennis. Bobo gave him a disappointed look, but tucked the toy weapon away. Dennis breathed a small inward sigh of relief. He didn’t want Spinner to find any hidden wells of strength, and angering him was probably not the smartest idea. “Listen, Malcolm...” He hesitated. “May I call you Malcolm?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dennis shifted the candlestick in his hand. Maybe a show of the weapon would keep the man subdued. “I know why you’re here, and I know what you want, but you’re not going to get it. I don’t care what your relationship to the Palins is, and until Elspeth says so –”
“What chair am I in?” Spinner interrupted suddenly. “What chair am I in?”
“Shut up!” shouted Dennis. “Don’t make me whack you again.”
“You don’t understand!” Spinner’s eyes were wide and panicked. “There’s a haunted chair in this house! You have to untie me!” He twisted and strained. Thankfully, the remnants of the tablecloth held.
“We know about the goddamned chair, Spinner!” Dennis waved the candlestick in the man’s face. “And we know all about you, too.”
Spinner’s fearful look changed to one of defiance. “The hell you do. You don’t know shit.”
“Oh yeah? How about this: You and Eric Palin pulled some kind of job together almost fifty years ago. Then, you had an argument about what to do with the profits, and the two of you split up. It must have been a lot of money, though, because you stuck around and kept tabs on things.” He jabbed Spinner in the chest. “We saw that picture that you took of the house. This house. And we know that you’ve been waiting for a chance to come back.”
Spinner shook his head. “You’ve got it all wrong. Elspeth is my –”
“Your ’niece,’ yeah, we know that, too. You and Eric must have been pretty close.”
“I never even met her father!”
“Oh, this is bollocks,” Bobo muttered. “Show him the pictures, September. That should shut him up.”
Dennis wondered what Bobo was referring to, until he remembered the envelope that Elspeth had retrieved. It was still in the den. “Here, take this.” He passed the candlestick to Bobo. “If he moves, bang him on the head. I’ll be right back.”
“Right, boss.”
Dennis hurried from the room, pausing as he entered the foyer. He didn’t think that Spinner was the type to bring along a partner – at least, Dennis had never seen him with anyone – but his footsteps slowed as he regarded the open front door. The street outside looked deserted enough, and nobody had come to help during the fight, so that hopefully meant they were alone. Dennis wasn’t going to take any chances, though. He closed the door and made sure it was locked before continuing on his way to the den.
Everything was exactly as he had left it, and the envelope was in plain sight on the marble table. Dennis snatched it up. The paper was thicker than he had realized, and it was heavy enough to have contained dozens of pictures. One of them, at least, should prove Spinner’s guilt. His evidence in hand, Dennis walked back to the living room.
“Everything okay in here?”
“We was talking about his mustache,” answered Bobo with a grin.
“I’m glad you two are getting along so well.” Dennis held the envelope up and waved it. “Are you sure you don’t want to come clean?” Spinner only grumbled. “Fine, then.” Dennis flipped open the parcel and removed a stack of photographs. They were easily as old as the envelope, and were in black and white. Promising details, although the subjects pictured were peculiar: Train stations, factories, office buildings... and there was even a shot of what looked like an offshore drilling platform. Unless Eric Palin had been an architecture enthusiast, Dennis guessed that the assembled photographs had been part of at least one con job, if not several.
“See?” Spinner said triumphantly. “I’m not in there, am I?”
“I’m sure we’ll get to you,” replied Dennis, trying to sound more certain than he felt. The next pictures followed the theme of their predecessors, showing several different angles of an impressive ocean liner. “Here we go.” Dennis turned over a photograph of Elspeth’s house, taken from almost the same vantage point as the one that Spinner had published. “This looks like your handiwork.”
“It’s not.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Dennis said with an insincere smile. The images grew more recognizable after that. “Look, here’s Evy, and that must be Elspeth next to her.” It was hard to believe that the white-haired woman was the younger of the two sisters, but the stern expression on the little girl in the photograph was unmistakeable. Dennis flipped through a few more pictures, pulling out the ones that seemed relevant. His next choice was a portrait of the entire Palin family. The man – Eric, Dennis presumed – was a portly and jovial looking fellow, with neatly combed hair and a slight slouch. The slim woman next to him had to be Emma, a gray-scale figure of poise and elegance.
Dennis held the photograph out for Spinner to see. “Recognize him?” he asked, tapping a finger above Eric Palin’s head.
“No.” If the detective’s arms had been free, Dennis was sure that he would have folded them.
“Fine, if you say so. I’m sure there’s something in here
