Judith Alguire - Rudley 02 - The Pumpkin Murders (10 page)

“Bob Smith,” the man said.

“Exactly where did you find the boat, Mr. Smith?”

“Near the Harvey place.”

Brisbois jotted down the man’s name.

“That’s the one Miss Miller and Mr. Simpson took out,” said Lloyd.

“You’re sure?”

“Only one out.”

“Did they say where they were going?”

Lloyd grinned. “Miss Miller said they were going on an investigation.”

Brisbois turned to Creighton. “That sounds familiar.” He turned his attention back to Lloyd. “Can you find us an outboard?”

“One with lights?”

“That would be nice.”

“And a big motor?”

“Sure.”

Lloyd trotted off to the boathouse and returned idling a motorboat up to the dock. “Now, you’ve got to be real careful getting in on account your shoes are slippery.”

“We’ll be careful.”

“And there’s an oar under there for when you get stuck in the weeds.”

“We won’t get stuck.”

“And the lifejackets are under the seats.” He grinned. “You get fined if you get caught not wearing them.”

“Put on your lifejacket, Creighton.”

“And there’s a tow rope for when you need to get towed.”

“We won’t need to get towed.”

“And if you get stalled, you turn it like so.”

“Yes, Lloyd.”

“And you turn it this way and that to go where you’re going.”

“Okay.”

“And there’s a compass in that little pocket there for when you get lost.”

“Lloyd?”

“Yes’m?”

“Get out of the boat.”

“Yes’m.”

“Go up to the inn and tell Rudley we’ve gone out to Harvey’s place because Mr. Smith here found one of his canoes in the reeds over there.”

“Do you want him to call the police?”

Brisbois held up his cellphone. “We’ll do that if we need to.”

Creighton got into the boat and positioned himself at the stern.

“You’re driving?”

“I’m a natural.”

“All right.” Brisbois sat down. “We’ll head over, check with Harvey. There’s no point in bringing the patrol boat out if they just stopped by for a chat and forgot to pull the canoe up.”

Creighton accelerated away from the dock. “You realize we don’t have our Kevlars.”

Brisbois ducked to light a cigarette. “We’re just taking a run across the lake. What do we need our Kevlars for?’”

“Oh, I thought they might come in handy if someone starts shooting at us with a high-powered rifle.”

“I don’t think that’s likely to happen.”

Creighton turned left. “Yeah, hardly seems likely. After all, we’ve just had some crazy knocking off one of the guests and we’re out here in a boat in suits and ties with our gun holsters. We might as well have POLICE stamped on our foreheads. Not as if we’re a tempting target.”

Brisbois shrugged. “We’ll be watchful. If we see something we don’t like, we’ll call in reinforcements.”

Creighton steered clear of the shoal markers. “You know, Brisbois, my last partner wouldn’t put his foot out the door without posting his destination with coordinates. If there was a chance of running into a six-year-old with a popgun, the Kevlars went on. He called in backup if his horoscope didn’t read right.”

Brisbois let the breeze shear the ash from his cigarette. “What’s your point?”

Creighton gave him a long look, then sighed. “That life with him was pretty boring. That’s what I wanted to say.”

Serge and Mitch marched the group to Harvey’s boat, a twenty-five-foot cabin cruiser, pushed them into the hold, and tied their legs. They locked the door and went topside.

Serge checked the gas gauge. “We’ll go down the lake to that bunch of islands, whack them on the head, untie them, sprinkle lots of gasoline around. They went out for a cruise and had a tragic accident. We’ll be back in Montreal by the time anyone figures out who they are.” He gestured to the smaller outboard alongside Harvey’s cabin cruiser. “Tie that good. Otherwise, we’ll have a nice cold swim.”

Mitch examined the control console. “Do you know how to drive this thing?”

Serge gave him a long stare. “As long as we take it easy, we’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know why we couldn’t have gone out in the middle of the night and slit a few throats.”

“Because the boss wants to make it all look like an accident.”

“I’d rather do somebody in the business any day. Nobody wants to make a federal case out of it.”

Serge smirked. “Think of it as expanding your horizons.”

“I think it just makes more chances for a foul-up.”

“Maybe. But he pays the bill so he calls the shots.”

“Why do we have to whack them? Why can’t we just leave them tied up?”

Serge slapped the wheel. “Now would that be nice? Burning them alive while they’re still conscious? Besides, it’s not going to look much like an accident if they’re tied up.”

“They look like a bunch of dumb fucks to me. Ain’t worth the price of the gasoline.”

“Yeah, they don’t look like much.” Serge idled the boat out of the cove. “Grab a beer or whatever he’s got in that cooler and act natural. We’re just two guys having a nice run down the lake.”

“Edward.” Miss Miller rolled to her side and came nose to nose with Simpson.

“Urgh, urgh, urgh.”

She smiled.

His eyebrows knit in a question.

“He didn’t make the tape tight enough. I worked it off with my tongue. If you hold still, I’ll get yours.” She wriggled around, turned her head, caught the edge of the tape in her teeth and pulled.

Simpson’s eyes budged. “Hm, hm, hm.”

“Be brave, Edward.” She worked the tape loose.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Now what, Elizabeth?” He glanced at Harvey and Adolph. Their eyes were wide and imploring. “I think you’ll have to wait until we get our hands free.” He turned to Miss Miller. “How do you propose we do that?”

“There must be something around here.” She rocked across to the cabinets and rolled to her knees. “Help me, Edward.”

“As you wish.” He rolled over, got his shoulder under her rear end, and hoisted her upright.

She opened a drawer with her teeth. Tea towels. Tried the next. Knick-knacks. The third yielded plastic bags. She paused and looked around. “Aha.” She hopped over, ducked her head into the sink, and, after a few tries, came up with a knife in her teeth. “Now, Edward,” she said around the knife, “you will have to stand up and let me place the knife in your hands. I will back up and you will work the knife against the tape.”

Harvey stared in horror. Adolph winced.

Edward took a deep breath. “Don’t worry, gentlemen. She does this sort of thing all the time.”

*

Mitch put a hand over his eyes and searched the shoreline. “How far do we have to go before we dump this crowd?”

“Not until we get into the islands.”

“Why can’t we dump them now?”

Serge stared straight ahead. “You want to dump them in front of somebody’s cottage? Where somebody can see us from the road? You want to get knee-capped?”

Mitch swallowed hard. “When do we get there?”

“Half an hour.”

“Can’t we open this thing up?”

Serge gave him an oblique look. “Sure, if you want me to run this damn thing up on the rocks, I can open it up full throttle.”

Mitch slumped into the jump seat.

*

“Be careful, Edward, I think you’re perilously close to my radial artery.”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. It’s difficult to avoid these things when you’re cutting backwards with your hands bound together.”

“Stop.” Miss Miller thought for a moment. “Keep your hands still and I’ll move up and down against the blade.”

“Roger that.”

*

Brisbois pointed to the reed bank. “Pull in around there. That’s where the guy found the canoe.”

Creighton killed the motor, picked up the paddle, and moved in close to the bank. Brisbois scanned the shore, brow furrowed.

“I don’t think anything happened,” Creighton said. “Miss Miller is a strong swimmer. Besides, the canoe probably just drifted away. Maybe she didn’t pull it up far enough.”

“That’s not like Miss Miller.”

“Maybe she left Simpson to pull it up.”

“That’s definitely not like Miss Miller.”

Creighton poked along the shoreline. As they pulled into the dock at Harvey’s cottage, a red-winged blackbird erupted from the reeds. Brisbois started, lost his balance, and fell hard against the side of the dock.

Creighton reached to haul him up. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Brisbois patted his pockets and searched the bottom of the boat. “Damn.”

“What’s the matter?”

“My cellphone. It must have slipped out of my pocket when I fell.”

Creighton glanced around the dock. “I hate to tell you but it’s probably in the drink.”

Brisbois straightened his jacket. “You’ve got yours, haven’t you?”

Creighton gave him a sheepish smile. “It’s back at the inn. I forgot to take it out of the charger.”

Brisbois shrugged. “We can use Harvey’s phone if we need to.” He started up the path toward the cottage.

Creighton did a quick reconnoitre, then followed.

Brisbois thumped on the door, then glanced around as he waited for an answer. “Nice place. Lots of privacy.”

“Maybe he’s up to something that needs a lot of privacy.”

“Hard to believe, given his background.” Brisbois frowned and thumped the door again. “Not that that means anything. He wouldn’t be the first upstanding citizen to turn to the dark side.”

Creighton glanced back at the dock. “I wonder where he keeps his big boat.”

“Probably in the big boathouse.” Brisbois gestured toward the tan building with the weathervane.” He leaned to one side to look through the window. “Doesn’t look as if anybody’s home.” He tried the latch. The door opened. “Let’s take a look. Just in case he’s in trouble.” He stepped inside, looked around, then held up a hand. “Don’t touch anything. Something’s not right.”

*

“Edward, I’m free.” Miss Miller turned. “Give me the knife.” She cut the tape from her legs, then turned to free Simpson.

Adolph and Harvey looked at her. Simpson massaged his wrists. Miss Miller freed Adolph.

“Miss Miller,” Harvey prompted.

Miss Miller gave him a calculating look. “First, I need some answers.”

Harvey nodded.

“Who are those men?”

“I have no idea.”

“Why did they come here?”

“I don’t know, Miss Miller. I answered the door. They were on the porch with the professor.”

Miss Miller turned to Adolph. “Professor?”

Adolph gulped. “I don’t know who they are.”

“What were you doing with them?”

“They’re trying to kill me. They…” He stopped, teeth chattering.

“I think they’re trying to kill all of us, Elizabeth,” said Simpson.

She leaned to him, whispered, “Edward, don’t take your eyes off them for a second.”

*

Rudley leaned over the desk. “None of this makes any sense to me, Margaret.”

“I don’t know if it’s supposed to, Rudley.”

“Professor Wyler runs off without paying his bill. Miss Miller and Mr. Simpson go off in the canoe. The canoe is found floating up the lake. Brisbois and Creighton go off in a motorboat. We don’t know what they have in mind.”

“They’re trying to solve the case, dear.”

“I suppose.”

“Poor Gerald.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Gerald. Being murdered. It sounds as if he hadn’t been doing that well before either.”

He nodded.

“And poor Mr. Frasor. Minding his own business. You never know.”

“Tragic, Margaret.” Rudley peeled himself off the desk, went into the cupboard, brought out a box of receipts, and began to sort through them. “You know, Margaret, it would do my heart good if these people would find somewhere else to commit their murders.”

“I doubt if our situation is that unusual, Rudley. Statistically speaking. Other places must have their share.”

“Ott at the Bridal Path would have a heart attack if someone sprained an ankle on his property. McFarlane won’t let anyone take a boat out without signing a release.” Rudley tore a receipt out, crumpled it, and threw it toward the wastepaper basket. “The Pleasant has become the murder capital of North America.”

“Perhaps it’s what they call the cluster phenomenon.”

Lloyd came into the lobby, holding a hammer. He stopped in front of the desk.

“Are you here to do us in or do you have work to do?”

“Gregoire needs a board tapped down in the pantry.”

“Is Brisbois back yet?”

“Nope.”

“It seems strange that Miss Miller and Simpson would lose a canoe.”

“She must have let Simpson pull it up.”

Margaret frowned. “We should worry about Detective Brisbois being out too late. It’ll be dark soon and you know how he is around boats.”

“Like a pig on ice.” Rudley chuckled. “As I recall, the last time he brought his wife here, he dumped her into the lake trying to tie the boat up.”

“Maybe we should call the police. You know what trouble he can get into.”

Rudley stuffed a handful of receipts into the box and coaxed it shut. “I know he’s come close to getting his head blown off, Margaret, but that was just once. He should have learned to have his wits about him by now.”

Margaret rescued the receipt box and smoothed out the papers. “If he’s not back by dusk, I’m calling the police.”

*

“What now, Elizabeth?”

They huddled in the hold, Harvey’s face blotched from the tape, Adolph’s moustache considerably thinned.

She proceeded with confidence. “Our best strategy is to wait for an opportunity to take them by surprise. They have some evil-looking rifles and I doubt if they would hesitate to use them.”

“I’m quite sure of that,” said Harvey. His eyes looked owlish in the dim light.

Adolph shuddered.

“Cold, son?”

Adolph shook his head.

“Good imagination?”

Adolph turned his face away from Harvey.

“If you don’t mind,” said Simpson, “it’s cruel to pester Professor Wyler.”

“It seems he’s the reason we’re in this mess.”

“We can sort that out later,” Simpson said.