Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery) Page 7

  “What?” My vocabulary was limited at this point.

  “Albert was a spy. The think tank stuff was a front. He travelled a lot because of his work. Hudson was his accomplice, you might say, part of the cover. The house is Hudson’s compensation for being a loyal servant. Does this make things clearer?”

  “Muddy, not murky.” I was having trouble formulating complete thoughts.

  She exhaled a long sigh. “Hudson told me all this. Albert didn’t know that I knew.”

  “Geez, this is complicated.”

  Opal gave a funny, one syllable chuckle. “Isn’t it? Who would think an old ranch woman would get involved in the cloak and dagger business? There are, however, problems. First, Hudson is in danger. The family can’t know about this spy stuff. They’re upset because they get little from the estate. Albert lived pretty high and loose. There won’t be much cash left after everything is liquidated and the bills paid. They’ll never understand about the house. They can’t ever know.”

  “Cody said the relatives will contest.”

  “They won’t get anywhere. It will take a lot of time and cost a lot of money. None of them have much.”

  “Fascinating, but where do I come in?”

  “Even though I know what happened to Albert and who did it, I cannot take the information to the police. Albert was an undercover agent. If the police know, it could jeopardize other undercover agents. I want to exact revenge on the perpetrator. That’s where you and Jake come in.”

  I swallowed hard. This sounded out of my league. Revenge? I wondered if the Russian mafia was involved. Definitely out of my league. “I’m not so sure I’m your woman. Where is Jake anyway? I haven’t heard from him.”

  “He’s run an errand.”

  “Why me and Jake?”

  “You make such a nice couple.”

  Here we went again. “Please, Opal, let’s leave out the matchmaking, and I’m not trained for cloak and dagger stuff.”

  “Hudson and I are sure we know who killed Albert, and she isn’t a very nice person.”

  My interest was piqued. “She?” I said. “As in the blonde at the wedding?”

  “No, not her. Albert had others. Lord knows why Olivia ever put up with it. I say this, even though he was my dear brother. He couldn’t help a wandering eye, and everyone knew it.” She leaned closer. “He also was known to have a taste for drink.”

  I wished Albert could have come back from the dead. Sounded like a fun guy. “Who then? Who is this mysterious woman who killed Albert?”

  “A woman who worked with him. I believe her name is Alice. She and Albert had an affair a while back. Olivia caught wind of it and told Albert to cease and desist or it was the end of the marriage. The affair was pretty public. Albert wasn’t discreet. I think as he got older he was quite harmless, although I understand his Viagra bill was pretty outrageous there for a while. Albert’s charm lay in a flair for the ladies but his extreme wealth didn’t hurt.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “Albert cut it off with his co-worker. However, you know what they say about a woman scorned. She took it to new heights. Made Albert’s life a misery, threatened him with all kinds of things. I suspect she arranged for his overdose. Those spy people are very creative when it comes to murder.”

  “I never think of creative ways to murder people, but I believe you about spies.” Another good reason why I shouldn’t get involved. “So you want to exact revenge on this woman?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Are you certain the woman did this?”

  Opal squeezed her eyes shut tight like she was trying to think, then opened them wide. “Hudson and I have given this a great deal of thought. We are ninety nine per cent sure.”

  I was concerned about the other one per cent. “What kind of revenge did you have in mind?”

  She smiled. “Murder would be too simple. I was thinking more in terms of blackmail or maybe forcing her out of her job.”

  Little old ladies can be deadly.

  “Blackmail? What kind of blackmail.”

  “She has a husband. Maybe he didn’t know about the affair. We could blackmail her for money or with harassing phone calls or maybe hack into her computer and steal her identity.”

  I was getting a creepy feeling that Opal was going off the deep end. Maybe I’d forego the money and get the hell out.

  “Opal, the action items you mentioned carry jail sentences with them. I’m a law-abiding citizen. Look, I’ll figure out what is owed me and send the bill. Have Hudson mail me a check when it’s convenient.” I busied myself shutting down the Mac and packing up.

  Opal didn’t respond. I looked at her. Our eyes met. She smiled. Did I detect a glimmer of insanity in those frosty blues?

  “Maybe Jake can do this for you,” I said, trying to be helpful. I zipped the carrying case and hefted the strap over my shoulder.

  “Then you won’t help me?”

  I shook my head. “Not my line of work.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. You’ll keep my secret, won’t you?”

  “Sure,” I said, meaning it. I wanted to put some distance between me and the crazies in this family. They were starting to make my head hurt.

  “I wouldn’t want any of the family to get wind of this. I thought you would help me.”

  “Jake’s your man, Opal. By the way, when will he return?”

  “He went to the lawyer’s office yesterday to pick up some documents. He’s not back yet.”

  I stopped before my hand reached the doorknob to the library on my way to freedom. “What do you mean he hasn’t returned? Isn’t the lawyer here in McLean?”

  She shrugged still sitting straight on the couch. “I don’t know what happened to him.”

  I cocked my head. “Where is he staying, Opal?”

  “He is staying with us here. But he hasn’t come back.”

  “I see.” I had a strong desire to find Jake and see what he made of this. His being away and she not worried added to the urgency.

  “Good bye, Opal,” I said and closed the door.

  In the car I drove down the street a ways then flipped open my cell phone and dialed Jake’s number. He answered on the first ring.

  “Where are you?” I said.

  “You’re not going to believe me, but the old lady has me locked in the wine cellar in the basement. I’ve been here since last night. She took me down on the pretense of showing me some rare wines.”

  “Damnation,” I said. “Jake, old lady Opal is crazy.”

  “That’s just for starters.”

  “I think I should call the police.”

  “We don’t want that.”

  “I don’t think you’re in a position to voice an opinion.”

  There was silence, then a hollow laugh. “I guess you’re right.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Would you mind getting me out?”

  “Me? First, you need to answer some questions.”

  “Fiona, please.”

  “No, I’m serious. Why didn’t you call me yesterday?”

  “I did but you didn’t answer.”

  “Damn, I forgot. I turned the phone ringer off so I could get some sleep.”

  “You never turned it back on because I’ve been trying to get you all night.”

  “Am I the only one you can call?”

  “You’re the only person I know on the East Coast that might believe an old lady locked me in her wine cellar.”

  “That’s troubling.”

  “Yeah, isn’t it? Look, Fiona, I’ll explain everything if you get me out of here.”

  I had heard that before. I coldheartedly ignored his plea. “Opal said she and Hudson are getting married.”

  “She did? News to me.”

  “She said Albert had an affair with a woman he worked with.”

  “Don’t know about that.”

  “What is going on here?”

  “Hey, I’m sorry if I can’t answe
r your questions, but if it’s too much trouble to help me, I’ll call one of my buddies.” He hung up. He’d sounded a little put out.

  How in the world was I going to get back into the house?

  I dialed Jake’s number again. Busy. I guess he was serious about calling his buddies. I contemplated my alternatives. Leave and extract myself from a dangerous situation. Or go back and help Jake.

  I dialed his number again. He picked up on the first ring.

  “How do you propose I get back into the Lodge insane asylum?”

  Chapter 7

  I crouched in the Alice in Wonderland hedge and waited for the lights to go out in the house. Damn, damn, damn. Why was I doing this? Why wasn’t I home in my warm, comfy bed, dreaming the night away instead of waiting in the cold and dark to help out a man I didn’t know that well? Curiosity was the only answer I came up with combined with a definite lack of common sense.

  Jake said to try the kitchen entrance. He said there was a whole underground storage maze accessed from a door in the kitchen. I hadn’t noticed the door because it was behind the main door into the kitchen which stood open most of the time.

  Unfortunately, I had to break in, find the wine cellar key and get into the basement, all without making noise and waking anyone. I was sitting in the hedge freezing my butt because there’d been a party going on for most of the night in the kitchen.

  Finally, the lights went out in the back of the house.

  I stood, stretched and listened. I wore a long, wool sweater coat in black that kept getting snagged in the hedge. My teeth were chattering, probably more from fright than from cold. I never did stuff like this. What had I gotten myself into? I had black running shoes on, though I never ran. They made no sound on the brick patio. I’d put them on in case I had to run. How’s that for logic? I inched toward the kitchen door.

  “Oof,” I said without thinking. I glanced around to see if anyone had heard. My toe had struck a large mound of something that hadn’t been there the last time I was on the patio. It appeared to be a garbage bag. Who had put that there? Maybe the gardener had raked leaves, bagged them and left the bag on the patio. Sloppy gardener. But it didn’t feel like mushy leaves. It felt like metal and had made a clanking sound when my foot hit it. Leaves didn’t clank.

  I pulled out my trusty little LED flashlight that I had shoved into my pocket at the last minute and switched it on. Sure enough, it was a garbage bag half concealed under the hedge like someone had dumped it in a hurry. My never ending curiosity kicked in, and I hunched down to investigate. I ran the light over the bag. The top was unsecured so I carefully pulled it open and looked in. Silver. It was the family silver. Tea service, bowls, plates, a few serving spoons. Someone was trying to filch the family silver. Who had dropped these here? A desperate relative? Had they had a party to divide up the family heirlooms, and someone had stashed their loot here?

  This was confusing. Better to keep my head and find Jake. Poor guy must be starving by now. I would have been. I inched along the patio that ran by the kitchen, keeping the LED trained on the ground, and eyed the door. The storm door was glass top to bottom. It was closed, but the entry door stood open. I tried the storm door. It wasn’t locked. The partiers must have forgotten to lock up. Maybe that is how the stash of silver ended up in the hedge. A drunken foray by a relative stealing the family heirlooms.

  With the stealth of a world class burglar, I eased in the door and shut it behind me. I waited, listening. The quiet hum of appliances was the only sound in the room lit by their red and green lights. Glasses and unwashed dishes sat about. How unlike Hudson to let the place go. Maybe he hadn’t hired cleanup help to take his place. Had he left?

  I headed for the door Jake said I’d find that led to the lower level. Moving the interior kitchen door, there it was, just like he said. I tried the knob. Locked. Damnation. My luck hadn’t held. I searched the wall by the door for hanging keys. Nothing. I guess that would be too obvious. I opened the overhead cabinet. Nothing but dishes. I pulled open the lower cabinet drawers. More dishes. Where were those keys? Probably on a ring on Hudson’s belt. As if conjured up like a genie, the overhead lights came on, and I yelped. There stood Hudson in the doorway of the other entrance to the kitchen, staring at me with a look of surprise.

  “Miss Marlowe, may I help you? Have you lost something? It is good of you to pay a visit. Isn’t it a bit early in the morning? Have you misplaced something? Your cell phone again?”

  “Hudson, you startled me.” I acted like it was perfectly normal for me to be snooping around the kitchen in the middle of the night. “Jake is locked in the wine cellar. I was searching for the key so I can let him out.”

  Hudson moved across the room to come face-to-face with me. He was attired in full butler uniform and looked like he had just come from the shower with wet hair slicked back from his forehead, replete with spicy aftershave. I hadn’t noticed before how broad his shoulders were. Maybe he seconded as a bodyguard for Albert.

  He cocked his head and did a rapid eye blink, like he was trying to understand what I had said. “That’s odd, Miss Marlowe. Why would he be locked in the wine cellar?”

  “Opal tricked him into going in to see some rare wines. She left and locked the door on him.”

  “I should have known,” he said like this was a normal occurrence. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to lock him in. Her mind hasn’t been good lately. Here, let me open that door for you. Might I assist you in releasing him?”

  Out of his pocket he extracted an impressive ring of keys and opened the door.

  “I have a key to the wine cellar on this ring. Shall I lead the way? We will secure Mr. Manyhorses’ release in no time.”

  He was about to descend the steps when I said, “Let me congratulate you on your upcoming marriage.” That was a showstopper. Obviously, I was fishing for information as well as checking to see if Opal was a loony as I suspected.

  He looked at me like I was sprouting horns and tail.

  “I beg your pardon. Marriage?”

  Just as I thought. “Yes, Opal told me the two of you are to be married.”

  “Married? To Opal?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry Miss Marlowe, but I am quite unaware of such plans.”

  In the quiet, humming kitchen, we seemed to come to an understanding. I voiced our understanding. “Opal isn’t in her right mind, is she?”

  “No,” Hudson said without the least hint of hesitation in his voice, “she is not, I am sad to say. Some nights she wanders the halls in search of I know not what.”

  I could see the tired circles under Hudson’s eyes, but I pressed on with my questions unable to stop. “Forgive me for asking but did you inherit this house?”

  His mouth opened and worked but no sound came out.

  I said, “Opal said you inherited the house as payment for your service to Albert as a spook.”

  “Spook, Miss Marlowe?”

  “Spy.”

  He started to chuckle, then had trouble stopping. His eyes filled with tears and the chuckles turned to hearty laughs. “Wooo, hooo,” he finally ended, pulling out his ironed, creased, white handkerchief and wiping his eyes.

  “I say, she has quite the imagination, doesn’t she? I’m afraid those are stories Miss Opal invented.”

  “Probably this is another of Opal’s stories but it’s been bothering me. Did she ever mention to you that while Albert was married to Olivia, he had an affair with a woman he worked with? That she probably murdered Albert using some creative spy technique?”

  Hudson didn’t meet my eyes but looked over my shoulder at something I knew he would not share. I read defeat in those eyes but I could have been wrong.

  “No,” he said. “I have never heard of her.”

  Was this a true story or a figment of Opal’s imagination? Did Hudson know and wouldn’t tell? And why not?

  I went in another direction. “Are you having as tough a time as I am trying to figure wh
at is going on in this family?”

  “I gave that up long ago, Miss Marlowe. I do my job and try not to look surprised at the odd behavior that transpires under this roof.”

  “Has anyone thought of locking dear Opal up in a nice high end retirement home?”

  “I don’t know. I am not privy to those decisions. I know what I overheard in Mr. Lodge’s conversations. I don’t believe he was aware of the extent of her illness.”

  “Do you know she hired Jake to investigate Albert’s murder?”

  He frowned. “Was Mr. Lodge murdered?”

  “She seemed to think so. That’s why Jake is here. I’ve been helping him, sort of.”

  Hudson was back in control of his butler face. “Miss Marlowe, I catch snatches of conversation. People often think a butler is a piece of furniture so they ignore the fact that I’m in the room, or coming and going or busying myself with something.”

  I nodded.

  “I don’t share what those snatches are. I don’t even speculate in a family like this one. This is what, I believe, psychologists call a dysfunctional family.”

  “That is putting it mildly,” I said.

  He turned to the basement stairs. “Shall we liberate Mr. Manyhorses?”

  “Do you realize you are a suspect?” I couldn’t stop. I had to know.

  He looked back and stared straight into my eyes. “What would be my motive?”

  “You don’t seem to have anything to gain except the house, if in fact you’ve inherited it.”

  “Precisely so. Do I look like I’ve inherited this house? If I may say, Miss Marlowe, the end of my employment and my move to Cornwall to my comfortable retirement cottage cannot come too soon.”

  “I get the picture,” I said. “We better liberate Jake.”

  He hadn’t exactly answered the inheritance question, and I now wanted to know if the mysterious spy woman was real. He hadn’t met my eyes when he answered the question. That’s the first time I felt he was lying.

  * * * * *

  Jake’s prison cell in the wine cellar was comfy, not at all what I imagined. He sat on a loveseat with end tables and lamps. A pint sized frig hummed in a kitchenette. He was surrounded with, and I’m not kidding, thousands of bottles of wine, arranged neatly around the walls of the room. The air was chilly, resulting from the automatically controlled room temperature that fine wines appreciate.