Sand City Murders (63 page)

Fynn, though still on his knees, reached into his pocket and drew out a length of metal chain. He twirled it once and flung it in his opponent’s direction like a lasso. It coiled around Mortimer’s ankles and the latter was taken by complete surprise. With a quick heave from Fynn, Mortimer was on the ground again and writhing in agony. The cane went flying as well. The inspector struggled back to his feet, walked over and picked up the cane again. “And so… where were we, hmm?” He took Mortimer in a choke hold and roughly got him back to his feet. The chains unwrapped and Fynn began to lead his rival toward the cliffs.

***

Joey and I ran over to check on Durbin. He recovered quickly enough, but there wasn’t much he could do, or any of us. Fynn and Mortimer were already half way up the cliff face. I could hear Fynn taunting his captive, “You’ve forgotten how to travel by the stars, haven’t you? Such skills are lost to you now… You rely too much on this jackal of yours… Do you even know what direction you’re facing? And this moon tonight, so close, so full, so bright, it makes it very difficult to see through the sky. Can you see any stars at all?”

I saw Fynn pull the blindfold over Mortimer’s eyes again and lead him to a high ledge. He spoke in a clear voice, loud enough for us all to hear:

“Now you will fall, you will travel far, and you will travel completely at random. You may break both your legs, but it’s likely you’ll survive, as you have done so many times before. Or you may find yourself lucky, slipping back to a far distant self, though I for one do not wish you a happy landing.”

Fynn dragged Mortimer still further up the quarry’s edge.

“Can you feel us getting higher? It’s a long way down now… I doubt you’ll ever make it back to this present.”

“Rest assured I will, Fynn. I will hunt you down if it takes forever.”

“This I do not doubt, but I will have a bit of peace till then, eh?”

“Be reasonable, Fynn. I have no desire to be injured,” he said in a different tone, almost pleading.

“You will fall, you will not know when you hit… you will travel far, far from here, this place, this time…”

Fynn threw Mortimer’s cane down first. “Listen,” he said, “Hear how far that falls?” There was a minor splash. Unexpectedly, Mortimer leapt all on his own as if to catch up to his prized possession. I watched him fall. A moment later there was a considerable splash. This didn’t surprise me, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Fynn. He fell to his knees with a look of utter incomprehension. He leaned over and stared at the now swimming Mortimer, who had indeed retrieved the jackal cane.

“How can this have happened?” Fynn cried out from his perch. “Why are you still here? This is impossible.”

I could hear Mortimer laughing, a hysterical sound. He was clearly insane. I also saw him treading water, staring back up at Fynn. He held the jackal head up for all to see.

“You are surprised then?” he called up to Fynn who was still kneeling on the high ledge.

“I am speechless.”

“Clearly, I know something you do not understand.”

Mortimer swam over to the middle of the quarry. It was my turn to be astonished. Mortimer seemed to haul himself up and out of the water. He was just standing there, standing on the water, dripping. I watched him take one small step and he almost lost his balance. It finally occurred to me that he was not standing on the pond, but on top of the legendary steam shovel that had been submerged all those years ago. I could see him look to the sky, as if to catch his bearing. He turned, and with a great amount of effort, leapt into the air. Then he was gone.

I turned to Joey and Durbin. They stared back at me wordlessly, dumbfounded. “Did you see that?” I asked.

They both nodded; one of them said. “He just disappeared.”

Fynn had staggered down from the cliffs, at least partly. He was doubled over and splayed out on a huge rock ledge, some ten feet above the water. I ran over. Joey and Durbin followed. We surrounded the inspector on the slab of granite, looking down helplessly.

“I fear I must break my fifth rule of travel,” Fynn said with a pained expression.

“What’s that one?”

“
Avoid dying at all costs.
” He looked down at his own wound and removed his hand. An ugly red stain appeared just above his cummerbund and was spreading  ominously across his white shirt.

“There must be something we can do.”

“My jacket pocket, please…”

I brought out his compass and passed it to him. Fynn held it in his bloody fingers. He looked up at the moon and turned the dial. “That way… face me that way…” he said and pointed. “I must go back.”

“Back where?”

“I have another party to attend, this one in London.” He thrust the compass back into my hands and I slipped it into my jacket.

“Nineteen sixty-four?”

“Yes, and now you must throw me into the void... Go on, make a seat, lock your arms like this,” he said, pantomiming the position. Durbin and I managed to make a human swing. Joey helped to hoist the inspector into it. “Now throw me off, you must.”

“This is crazy… I’ll call an ambulance,” Durbin protested.

“No,” Fynn said harshly. “It’s too late for that. Indulge me please, detective,” his voice softened to a whisper and he managed a painful smile.

Durbin looked at me. He wasn’t sure who was crazy at this point.

“On three,” I grunted and started swinging the inspector back and forth. “One… two… three.” We swung Fynn from the cliff. He flew from our hands and went sailing to the black water below, though with a desperate cry of pain. There was no splash this time. In an instant, he was gone. His cry echoed against the crater walls.

I’m pretty sure that meant Fynn would live to see another day. I turned to Joey and Durbin but they weren’t there. Somehow I wasn’t surprised. I was alone with it all, the quarry in the moonlight, the fireflies, and now, the silence.

chapter 39

times fly

There was a text on my cell from Tractus Fynn. It could only mean one thing. The timeline had changed again, and this time, drastically.
Come to the house, ASAP.
I would certainly comply but I thought it might be a good idea to stop in at the office first. I might get a better sense of what had changed. What day is it? Oh, Sunday… I was feeling a bit disorientated. Zachary wound between my legs and started meowing. I was glad for that at least.

I went straight to my laptop and opened the
Chronicle Online Edition
… wait, now there were two. There was a button that said,
for e-readers click here
. Jason and Amy hard at work all summer, I presumed. I went to the masthead: Eleanor, Frank, Joey, Pagor, Melissa, Jo-Anne, Susan Chandler, Sales Representative… Wait, Suzy?

I also checked through this week’s issue… Friday’s headline caught my attention:
Officer Finds Pirate’s Treasure

I read further,
Sand City
Police Officer Allen Adams claimed this year’s Chamber of Commerce Summer Competition grand prize, a pirate’s chest filled with doubloons, well not real doubloons, but a check worth $10,000.

According to Adams, the clue that gave it all away was, “Disturb the dead not once, but fifty times count your blessings.”

…And what’s on tap for next season? “It’s early days,” said Joey Jegal, creator of this year’s puzzle, “Maybe a Sand Castle Competition.”

I decided to check the headlines from some back issues:

Fish City Goes Green
—

Hector Diaz, president of Fish City announces plans to install solar panels…

Policeman’s Ball a Rousing Success

Officer Adam Allens Promoted to Lieutenant

College Campus to Revive Saint Alban’s Site

Quiet Gardener Ceases Operations

In the end there was no better way to catch up with things than Molly Gossip:

It’s been once heck of a season, I have to say. And who would have guessed that the most raucous summer visitors of all would be of the insect variety. Talk about noisy neighbors, louder than a leaf blower, and lousy tippers the lot of them. Quite the brood too. Mr This and Mr That both assure me they are very tasty when fried up in a little olive oil. Hate to dine and dash but seventeen years is a long wait for the cicadas’ return.

Monday morning was going to be interesting, no doubt. I figured it was also worth a peek inside Partners. It was very weird going inside in broad daylight. I stepped through the door with some hesitation.

“Hey Patrick, what brings you in so early?”

“Miriam? What are you doing here?”

“Working, like always. What can I get you?”

“Nothing really, just saying hi.”

“Looking for Eddie?”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, Eddie the drummer, your best friend…” She looked at me funny. “He wanted to know if you’re coming to open mic on Thursday.”

“Maybe…”

“Hang on a sec,” Miriam said and floated down to the other end of the bar. My eyes followed and took stock of the regulars near the side entrance. Everything seemed to be in order. Wait… no Cecil today, no Hector either. In their place seemed to be Charles Chamblis and Michael Burton Dean. They both looked pretty out of it. I left in a hurry and then texted Joey:
Who invented the telephone?
A few minutes later I got a reply:
A. Bell, LOL, Emma says hi...

***

I drove up to Fynn’s house, the best I could remember, and pulled into the sandy driveway. There was no chain across the road. The tiger lilies had been replaced by some kind of hearty daisies. I knocked on the door and heard a small dog barking in reply.

“Yes? May I help you?” a woman’s voice asked as she opened the door.

“I’m here for Inspector Fynn.”

“Inspector is it?” She gave off a small laugh.

“You must be Mr Jardel, please come in… and welcome,” she said with a big smile.

She was an attractive woman in her mid fifties. Her hair was silver white and had probably been blond at one time. She had taken very good care of herself. Her face though aged, was refined and she had a nice complexion, as well as sparkling bright eyes.

“Very nice to meet you,” I said and returned her smile.

“What a lovely sunny day, don’t you think, Mr Jardel?”

“Certainly is… but Patrick, please...”

“Fynn has told me so much about you, and he’s so happy that you’ve volunteered to help. I’m a bit useless when it comes to this kind of thing.”

“Is he here?”

“Oh… no, he’s off on one of his famous walks. He should be back any moment now. Can I get you something, Patrick? Coffee? Tea? A drink?”

“Coffee sounds good.”

“Follow me to the kitchen then.”

The little dog started barking. I bent down to give it a pat as it seemed friendly enough. “Well, if it isn’t Roxy… how are you, little guy?”

Lorraine started laughing, “Roxy, you say? No, this is Asta.”

“Asta?”

“Yes, poor Roxy, the little dear… he ran off some months ago. This is his replacement,” she whispered as if the dog might take offense.

“So… how do you like Sand City?” I asked idly.

“It’s very charming, though I’m looking forward to the slow season, when the hustle and bustle die down a bit.”

“Well, don’t forget the Marathon in October.”

“Are you running this year?”

“Me? No way.” I smiled. “Soon enough you’ll be longing for the action.”

“What are you saying?”

“Sand City can get pretty quiet in the off season.”

“Just as I like,” Lorraine said and handed me a cup of coffee. “Cream and sugar?” she asked.

“Yes, please.”

“I do hope Tractus hasn’t lost track of time,” Lorraine said and glanced up at the kitchen clock. “I’m supposed to meet my sister in half an hour or so.”

“Your sister?”

“Elaine, of course…” She smiled. “Oh, we suffer, my sister and I, both policeman’s wives…” Lorraine laughed a little.

“Pardon?”

“My sister Elaine… she’s married to Leo Arantez.”

“Oh right, I totally forgot. How is she?”

“More to the point, how is Leo? He’s still in some pain after that dreadful baseball accident.”

“And how’s Anika?”

“Anika?” Lorraine asked, a little surprised it seemed. “You’ve met her before?”

“Um, earlier in the summer.”

“Of course, you were her escort to the Policeman’s Ball which I’ve heard so much about. Oh, that terrible night…”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Only that it was so sad to hear Leo had to retire.”

“Well, Durbin’s a good man.”

“Yes, I suppose.” Lorraine gave me another smile. “I will say Anika was quite right about you.”

“How’s that?”

“Oh, never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She looked a bit embarrassed. We both heard a door opening, the sliders at the back. Asta went running to see. Fynn had returned and walked across the living room with a huge grin on his face.

“Ah Patrick, I am very glad you’ve come. Everything is good?”

“I think so… I just met your wife.”

“Yes, isn’t she lovely?” He came over and gave Lorraine a big hug and a kiss. He turned to me. “You should be the first to know. I’ve decided to retire here… in your fair little city. I’m thinking of opening a private inspector business.”

“Private Inspector?”

“Isn’t that what you call it? A Private Eye?”

“Oh, it’s Private Investigator.”

“Ah, I see... well, that’s why I need your help so badly. I am going to hang my shingle in your town, as they say. I was hoping you could help smooth things over with Durbin. And perhaps you’d be interested in becoming a partner, hmm? We would investigate only the most interesting cases, the most confounding mysteries, eh? I think we could be quite a team, you and I... Have some adventures, perhaps even travel a bit. What do you say?”

I was speechless for the moment… I started to think about licenses and business cards, and an office where he might set up.

“Well, I’ll leave you to catch up on things. I have to rush off now. It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Patrick,” Lorraine said and walked off.