Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery) Page 8
“Hi, Jake,” I said.
He looked from me to Hudson. “I see you found the easy way in.”
I smiled. “Taste any fine wines?”
“I’ll take whiskey any day.”
Hudson said, “If you will excuse me, I have the kitchen to clean and breakfast to arrange. Might there be anything else?”
It was clear Hudson did not want to involve himself anymore than necessary. I couldn’t blame him. The cottage in Cornwall beckoned.
“Thank you, Hudson. We appreciate your help,” I said. “By the way, when will your service end?”
“In two weeks. I have given notice. You’ll excuse me.” He removed himself from the room with his usual studied dignity.
“What now,” I said to Jake, “that I won your freedom?”
He scrubbed his face with both hands. “I need a shower and a decent meal. Wine just doesn’t do it for me. I need steak and eggs.”
“Right. Do you think the wine keeper hides out here?”
“Somebody must. The frig is stocked with chocolate and cheese.”
“Maybe that’s what they eat with wine tastings. This is a crazy house.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Let’s explore the underground while we’re here.”
“What for? I’m not working private investigation anymore.”
“No? Did Opal fire you?”
“Nope, gave my notice. That’s probably why she locked me up.”
“Have you noticed Opal is doing some strange stuff?”
“Yup. In my opinion, she needs to be institutionalized, sorry to say.”
“Agreed. Let’s look around. Aren’t you even curious?”
He shook his head. “I know too much about this family already.”
“Okay, then who inherited the money and the house?”
“Fiona, I can’t put a straight story together. I’ve followed lead after lead, and they all come to the same dead end. Albert died a natural death as far as I’m concerned. I’m headed back to Oregon.”
“What about Albert’s spy bimbo doing him in, and Opal wants us to exact revenge? Do you know who the bimbo is?”
“No. Opal’s story is the first I heard of her which leads me to believe it’s just a story.”
“I wonder,” I said, and let it go at that. What I really wondered was how I could find this woman. I put that on my to-do list. “We should look around. It won’t hurt.”
“I thought you resigned?”
“I’m just curious.”
He rose from the chair. “I’m not. I just want to get out of this place.”
The underground was byzantine. Brick arches framed the doors of the storage rooms. Everything was brick from walls to floors. The architecture was medieval English dungeon and didn’t go with the rest of the house. The storage doors were locked.
“Jake, don’t you think this is strange?” I said, after I had tried yet another locked door.
“Fits with the family.”
“What do you think they store in these rooms?”
“Brandy smuggled from France? Gold doubloons?”
I looked at him under the light of an iron trimmed lamp. “Jake, what if Albert was involved in smuggling?”
“Fiona, to tell you the truth I don’t know what Albert was involved in. If he was a spy, if he travelled a lot, he could have had any kind of weirdo worldwide connections. Who knows what he could have gotten himself into? And you know what? I don’t want to know.”
“What if there is a dead body behind one of these doors?”
“It would stink.”
“True. We need to find a key to these rooms.”
“Hudson has them.”
“Maybe there are extras. Did you ever store an extra key above the door ledge?”
“I never owned anything that needed to be locked up.”
I walked to the last locked door I tried and felt along the top of the arch. My fingers contacted cold metal.
“See, a key.” I slipped the antique key into the metal lock that looked like it came from The Man in the Iron Mask movie. The key turned smoothly in the lock. I pushed the door. It creaked. An odor reminiscent of oil and wood escaped the room. I pushed the door open further. All lay in darkness. I felt inside for a switch. Something with feet ran across my foot. I gave an unfeminine screech.
“What was that?” I said as I watched the little beast scurry down the hallway. My appetite for adventure went sour. Rodents were not in my romanticized version of a dungeon.
Jake craned his neck for a look. “A very large rat.”
“Yesh.” I shivered and pulled the sweater coat tighter. “You find the light switch.”
“This was your idea.”
“I know, but you’re the fearless cowboy.”
“I bet there’s bats in here, too,” he said with a grin.
I surveyed the dark ceiling above me like the little critters would be hanging from the bricks. “Don’t you find all this brick work unusual?”
“Never saw anything like it. Someone must be into dungeons and dragons.”
“Where do they use brick in cellars anymore?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” He was busy fingering the doorjamb. “Here it is.” A flood of light spilled over the room from a bare light bulb. The room was full of crates all the same size, long and narrow.
I cast a glance up and down the hall once more and then followed Jake into the room. I did not have a good feeling about those boxes. They were stacked against one wall, floor to ceiling.
Jake stood studying the stamps on the outside. “Don’t need to open these to know what they are. Says right here.” He pointed to the stenciled numbers on one case.
They meant nothing to me. “What are they?”
“Rifles. Looks like Albert traffics in weapons.”
Chapter 8
“Weapons trafficking?” I said, trying to get my mind around that concept. Jake and I stared at the boxes. Then I said, “This is quite a twist. If Albert traffics in weapons, he must have an accomplice. He wouldn’t be able to move this stuff in and out of here by himself.”
“Right and Hudson would be the likely culprit,” Jake said. “Then again, it could be anybody. Albert knew so many people.”
“The arrow keeps pointing back to Hudson, doesn’t it? I hope that’s not the case. Who would suspect an upstanding citizen like Albert of weapons trafficking?”
“Lots of places in the world use these kinds of rifles.”
“I’ve a feeling we shouldn’t be here.”
“I’ve a feeling you’re right, and this was your idea.”
Footsteps echoed in the corridor. Jake flipped off the light and pushed the door quietly shut.
“Why’d you do that?” I whispered.
“Because we shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t know about these boxes.”
“You’re right.”
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
“Hello?” said a voice.
We made no sound. The key rattled in the lock.
I stifled a croak. “I left the key in the lock.”
“Yes, you did.”
“How was I to know someone was going to lock us in?”
“Locked in small rooms is getting to be a habit.”
The footsteps had not retreated. We waited. The key rattled in the lock again. The door swung in. The hall light outlined Cody’s slim cowboy figure.
“Cody?” I said and flipped on the light.
He had a gun trained on us. I’m not expert on weapons but it was ugly looking. What on earth was he thinking?
“You two are a nuisance.” That solved the question of what he was thinking.
I backed into Jake. “What are you doing with a gun? That’s a rather unfriendly gesture.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I’d never had someone hold a gun on me before. It was an itchy, raw feeling.
Cody sighed. “Come out of there.”
“Sure thing,” I said.
Jake said nothing but pushed his hand against my back and steered me from the weapons room.
Holding the gun on us, Cody closed the door and locked it.
“Too bad, Aunt Opal brought you into this.”
“Right,” Jake said. “I’d like to ask what this is about but the less I know the better.”
“Smart man,” Cody said.
“I’m rather curious,” I said, demonstrating once again a lack of common sense. “You can tell me.”
Cody smiled. “I like you, Fiona. You’ve got spunk. Unfortunately, I’ve got to figure out what to do with you. I haven’t killed anyone yet.”
“Let’s not start,” I said. “What are rifles doing in there?” I was hoping they were legitimate.
“Like Jake said the less you know the better. I got a lot on my mind right now. I got an aunt causing problems with her fantastic stories, an uncle that died and left me with the arms business, and a bunch of relatives that want his money, just like I do.”
“I see. Jake and I really aren’t much interested in the family. We’ve both resigned our jobs, so you can let us go. We promise never to say a word to anyone.”
“You were interested enough to start snooping. That’s where you went wrong. If you had just walked out of the wine cellar and left, you never would have stumbled across my stash.”
“You mean, your uncle didn’t know about this?”
“Of course, he did. He helped finance, arrange for the weapons, and make the sale.”
“Who are the buyers?”
Jake interrupted. “Fiona, I don’t think we want to know.”
Cody’s smile got tighter.
“Cody,” I said, undeterred, “I promise, we won’t say a word to anyone.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
“What about Hudson?” I asked.
“What about him?”
“How does he figure into this?”
Cody’s eyes shifted a few degrees to the right and back. “Hudson is a superb butler who doesn’t ask questions and keeps his opinions to himself.”
“Why don’t we discuss this over breakfast?” I said, trying to be helpful. I needed a strong cup of coffee, at least.
“All right, move. Up the stairs and, Jake, don’t try anything. I know you won’t, Fiona.”
Why would he say that? I must have looked innocuous, but I was ready for a rumble. Jake looked like he wanted to be any place but here.
It was getting light outside, I was pleased to discover. The kitchen was clean, coffee made. A tray of sweet rolls and muffins sat by the coffee maker. Hudson had neatly arranged mugs on the counter. I wished I could afford a butler.
I poured coffee for three, and we each took a mug to the table. I set the tray of pastries on the table nearest my seat. Cody sat across from us at the table with the gun pointed in our direction. He acted like he knew how to use it, too. I had a feeling I might be having my last meal. Why-oh-why had I insisted in sleuthing around the underground? For comfort I selected the largest cherry cheese Danish on the plate and started in, sipping coffee between bites.
The silence was awkward. I wondered where Hudson had disappeared to. No wonder he wanted to return to England as soon as possible. He must have known about this from those overheard conversations. And he could have known about the spy woman from overhead conversations though my mind might be running away with me. Maybe Cody knew about her, although I hesitated to ask. He might not be in the right mood.
Cody sipped his coffee and looked back and forth between us, making me nervous. I had another Danish. Sugar always calmed my nerves.
Finally he said, “Tell you what, if you help me, I’ll see you go free when this is over.”
Jake said, “When what is over?”
“When the last of the goods are delivered. I could use your help. You help me, I let you go.”
I heard jail sentence at the end of that statement.
I said, “I need some questions answered. Aren’t you afraid some of the other relatives are going to walk in and see you with that gun? Does everyone know about what’s in the basement?”
“They never get up before ten. Gives me plenty of time to work.”
I glanced at the clock. Seven.
“Who killed Albert?” I said.
He shrugged. “Maybe some folks who didn’t like us meddling in what they considered their arms business. I can’t be sure. That’s the least of my worries.”
“This is a dangerous business, Cody. I thought you were a rancher?”
“I am, most of the year. We do this trade once a year. It’s very lucrative.”
“Did Albert suck you into this?”
“No. I asked if he needed help.”
“How did you find out?”
“I spent a lot of time with Uncle Al. I was the closest he had to a son.”
“So,” I said, “you must know about his affair with the woman he worked with.” I thought I’d throw it in, see what happened.
“Who?” he said.
“The woman Opal says creatively murdered him.”
“Wow, she said that?” Cody looked sincerely interested now. “Unbelievable.”
“Is she a real person?”
Cody’s eyes went flat when he realized I was fishing, that I didn’t know. He shrugged. “Real as anything can be with Opal right now.”
How was I to find this woman? I don’t think I could just phone up spy central and ask for her. Opal wasn’t even sure about her name.
Jake said, “I guess you wouldn’t consider letting us go on our word. I’m not interested in this line of work. I don’t think Fiona is either, are you?”
I shook my head and helped myself to a third Danish. They were small. “No,” I said, “I’m best at interior design.”
Cody said, “You sure are asking a lot of questions for not being interested.”
Jake tried to rise.
Cody motioned him down with the gun.
“Mind if I refill the coffee?” Jake said.
Cody relented. “Bring the pot over. I want a refill.”
“Me, too,” I said.
This was all so civil.
Jake left his cup on the table and fetched the coffee pot. He poured Cody’s first. Then, as he finished, with a deft flick of his wrist he threw the remaining pot into Cody’s face. Cody’s arms flew up to protect his face, and Jake smashed the coffee pot against the wrist that held the gun. It skittered across the table.
Cody kept screaming son-of-a-bitch while trying to clear his eyes. Jake delivered an impressive chop to Cody’s neck, and the poor cowboy slumped over onto the table.
“Nice work, Jake,” I said.
He yanked me out of the chair. I was still clutching the Danish.
“Which way to the car?” he said.
“Back entrance.”
We high tailed it from the kitchen, leaving another mess for Hudson to clean up.
* * * * *
“Jake, we have to go to the police.”
We were speeding along in a line of lively commuter traffic, going I wasn’t sure where, Jake at the wheel. He glanced in my direction.
“Fiona, this kind of stuff is FBI and ATF people, not a group I want to get involved with. We could get framed by Cody and those goons he’s dealing with. I’m not willing to take that chance. I want out.”
I was perplexed. “In my world when there is wrong doing, one reports the information to the proper authorities.”
“Not in my world. You settle things yourself. You want to be in a witness protection program the rest of your life?”
“Depends where it is. South Pacific Island I could go for.”
“Get serious.”
“I am.”
“Fiona, we need to distance ourselves from the scene of the crime. Our fingerprints are on the door to the weapons room. Have you thought about that? What do you think Cody is going to do when he comes around?”
“What?”
“Come aft
er us. Or have someone unpleasant come after us.”
“I hadn’t thought about that. I guess I could take a vacation. Damnation, I never did get a check for work done.”
“Don’t think you’re going to.”
“What will you do?”
“Can’t go back to the ranch. My career there is over.”
“This might be a good time to visit my friends in Australia. That might be far enough away.”
Jake nodded his head thoughtfully. “Mind if I join you?”
“That’s a possibility. By the way that was an impressive hand chop you delivered to poor Cody. Where’d you learn that?”
“High school.”
“Must have been some school.”
Jake grunted. No more details were forthcoming.
“Jake,” I said, “you haven’t leveled with me about what you know. If we’re going on a extended trip together, we should be honest with each other.”
We stopped at a light in a long line of traffic. Someone kept tooting the horn. I hadn’t paid attention to it, except that now the annoying motorist was right beside us in traffic. I caught a hand wave out of the corner of my eye and turned to give the guy a dirty look.
It was Hudson, red-faced and yelling. I couldn’t make out what he was saying with the window up. I debated about putting it down. What if he had a gun?
“Jake, look. It’s Hudson in the car aside of us.”
Traffic was moving again, and Jake stole a glance in my direction. He kept with the flow of traffic.
“He’s yelling for us to stop and pull over. Do you think we should?”
Jake sped up and kept looking in the mirror. “He’s behind us now. Right on our tail. He doesn’t strike me as the type to be tailing us for no good reason. If he were following with some malicious purpose, he would have kept out of sight and maybe run us off the road into a ditch. I wonder what he wants.”
I looked back. Hudson kept throwing his hands up off the wheel. I became concerned that he’d have a wreck.
“Maybe we should look for a convenience store or somewhere public to pull in and see what he wants. He can’t do too much damage in a public place.”