The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3 (23 page)

“Yes, Maurice Sherborn.”

“You know he would never have made it without Bentley Hughes
pushing him.  Bentley, now that’s a character.”

“That name sounds familiar.  Doesn’t he run Classic
Compositions?”

“Owns it.  And, between you and me, he’s in the middle of
trying to take over Boosey and Hawks.”

“Impossible.  They’re too big, too profitable.  Classic
can’t have the cash to back up the bid,” Peter argued.

“Bentley has put his fortune in the deal.  He’s counting on
Maurice’s knighthood to give him the respectability to be taken seriously by
other investors.”

“How does having a Knight of the Realm as one of your
composers give you respectability?” Noelle asked.

“It is like a stamp of approval from England.”

“What happens if Maurice isn’t knighted?”

“Depends on the reason.  If he were rejected there would be
a field day in the papers.  If he turns it down, people are going to want to
know why.  But don’t worry, no man in his right mind would turn this honor
down.”

“What would happen to Bentley?”

“Lose everything I guess.  Boosey may bite back and take his
company.  He is too old to start over again.”

I wanted to go to my room and look through my notes, but it
would have been rude considering the entertainment that was brought in for my
benefit.  After dinner we walked over to the music room.  I had the pleasant
opportunity before the concert to talk to both Whitman and David.  They bounced
off each other in conversation.  Whitman was a real clown while David was
serious and morose.  I felt like I was listening to a record being sped up and
then slowed down in almost continuous repetition.  The only thing of substance
I got from the conversation was that they both enjoyed their children.  I liked
that.  I had thought that children were seen and not heard in most society
homes, evidently not theirs. 

Maybe Paz seemed screwed up because it was her time in life
to rebel.  Peter, on the other hand, was more level-headed because he had
passed through that particular portal unscathed.

A trio had formed by the grand piano: Stephen stood with his
violin, Peter sat at the cello, and Doctor Marcum at the piano.  They started
off with Mozart and worked their way around Europe touching on this and that
composer.  They ended with “Solvejg’s Song” from Peer Gynt Suite, No. 2, Op.55
by Edvard Grieg.  I noticed that Stephen came alive through the violin. 
Peter’s cello gave the compositions warmth while Doctor Marcum’s piano rhythms
complemented both instruments.

It was something that I would remember forever.  I wish that
Alex could have experienced this.  Noelle eyes shone, and Peter’s wide smile
told me he had seen her appreciation.

Coffee was served and puddings were set out for anyone to
eat at their leisure.  Whitman and Liz walked over to the piano.  They
dedicated the duet they were going to sing to Lady Mary.  Whitman sat down and
played the intro to “Memory” from Cats by Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber.  Liz’s voice
started softly, and as she sang I could read the story in her movements.  It
was professional and emotional.  Lady Mary wiped the tears that had fallen down
her cheeks.  She walked up and kissed her daughter, and when her son started
playing the Cancan from “Orpheus in the Underworld” by Offenbach, she sat next
to him on the piano bench and kicked a leg out now and then.  It was
hilarious. 

I wonder if composers looked down upon these family
gatherings with pride.  Music is so important on so many levels.  I thought
about the loss of Donald Williams.  It didn’t make enough sense to me.  I just
couldn’t buy that a man that Bobby said was so joyous to be around would murder
for music.  Nor did it jive that Maurice wrote Big Band charts.  I did feel
that his regret at the lovers he inadvertently kept apart was genuine, but
Michael’s easy acceptance of his brother using his music didn’t fit.  This bothered
me.

“You’re lost in thought aren’t you?” Billy asked.

“Oh, Billy.  Do you ever feel out of place?  A fraud?”

“Ms. Fin-Lathen, look around you.  Our barn isn’t as big as
this room.  That was an easy question.  Now why did you ask it?”

“Did Paz tell you about what transpired this evening at
Maurice Sherborn’s?”

“Yes, she did.  Why?”

“Well, everything points to Bentley Hughes now, no solid
proof but enough to speculate.  Maurice is guilty as hell in the plagiarism
area.  He had genuine regret over Angie and Michael, but he still couldn’t
believe that Bentley would be involved in killing anyone.  I haven’t met
Bentley so I have no read on him.  But I was going over the evidence that makes
him a suspect, and it really doesn’t fit.”

“I don’t know much about music, but I’m very uneasy myself.  My
father has a saying, ‘I smell something, but where is the stink coming from?’ 
Now Mr. Bentley, it all seems to point at him, but there is something familiar
about Michael.  Paz thinks it’s because people have doubles everywhere, but I
don’t go anywhere but Cornwall.  Did you ever catch a glimpse of a sporty car
and not really see it but later you could recall the color and lines of it? 
Well, it’s like that.  I know I’ve seen him before; it’s just the circumstances
that are blurred.”

“Maybe you have seen him before, maybe when you and they
were younger.  Things seem so out of place.  Today for example, if we take away
the blood and adrenaline and look clearly at the players, something is wrong. 
It’s similar to an instrument coming in too soon or playing the phrase wrong. 
You can hear it, but you have to take away all the others to find the culprit. 
I played everything back in my head, and there is one thing that didn’t make
any sense until now.”  I shook my head as to further clear it of cobwebs. 
“Billy, you have just cleared my mind.  Remember after you took out Bruno with
the shovel?”  Not waiting for an answer I continued, “Well, I went back and was
helping Michael with the Father.  I described to him what had happened, since
he couldn’t see anything lying on the ground trying to stop the Father's
bleeding, and he seemed to know your name.”

“He said ‘Billy,’ you’re sure?”

“Yes.  How did he know your name, if he never met you
before?  And he certainly couldn’t see you.  I didn’t see you till you stepped
in and bashed Bruno.”

“How did he know my name, and how did he know I would be
with you?  My name wasn’t in the bit in the paper.  I was under ‘and friends.’ 
If you think something is wrong then go with your instincts, Ms. Fin-Lathen. 
You’re a smart woman.”

“I have to call the CSP or Sergeant Moore.  Billy, if I am
right we just put Angie into the arms of Donald’s killer.  I hope that they
haven’t taken the guard off of her yet.  Get Peter and the girls and have them
meet me upstairs.”  I ran over to Caroline and asked for the use of a phone. 
She directed me towards the den and asked what was wrong.  I told her I would
explain all when I was certain.  I ran out of the room and over to the den.  I
didn’t want to waste time searching for any phone numbers, so I dialed 999.  I
got the local constabulary and asked to be transferred to the Met.  The
operator asked the nature of the emergency and I told her, “Murder.”

“Met emergency.  What is the nature of your call?”

“I’m Cin Fin-Lathen, and I must get in contact with CSP
Robert Browning or Sergeant Moore immediately.  There is a life and death
situation that they need to know about.”

“One moment.”  The operator left the line for a brief
moment.  “Ms. Fin-Lathen, I am going to connect you to the New Scotland Yard. 
Hold on...”

“Inspector Fitch,” a male voice broke in. “Ms. Fin-Lathen, I
am aware of this case.  How can I help you?”

“Inspector, do you know if Angie Bathgate still has a
constable with her?”

“Yes, she does.  Constable Core.”

“Please, contact her and find out if Michael Sherborn is
there.  If so, she needs to get Angie and herself away from him.”

“Why?”

“I feel he may be the murderer of Donald Williams.  Plus,
Maurice Sherborn and Bentley Hughes are in great danger.  I also think that
Ivana Penny, alias Ivan Bendonovich, is somehow connected to this.”

“Right, where are you now?”

“At the Lord Whitman Price’s home in ... damn, I’m not
sure.  The house is called Rosewood Manor.”

“Highgate.  You’re in Highgate.  A constable will be there
to pick you up.  Don’t let anyone else take you anywhere.  I will also give
instructions to secure Lord Price’s home.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ms. Fin-Lathen, Maurice Sherborn was discovered a few
minutes ago in his office by his secretary.  He’s dead.  It looks like an
‘apparent suicide.’  Ivana’s constable in Brighton has not checked in and has
been missing for over four hours.”

“Bentley?”  Please, oh please let him be safe.

“He’s home with his family.  I have doubled the guard on his
home.  Has Father Williams contacted you?”

“He’s in the hospital.  I was just there a few hours ago.”

“Well, now he’s missing.  His aunt has no idea of his
whereabouts.  Hold on.”

My world was unraveling faster than I could pick up the
pieces.  Maurice dead, Father Michael missing, and all I did was eat dinner.

“Ms. Fin-Lathen?  Are you still on the line?”

“Yes.”

“Good.  I just heard back from Constable Core.  Angie is
alone presently.  Michael Sherborn left after escorting her home.  Hold on.”

I needed some good news.  Hell, how could I be so
unobservant?  Where was Father Michael?

“Ms. Fin-Lathen, are you still there?”

“Yes.  Yes I’m here.”

“Constable Core went to look in on Angie, and she’s gone and
the latch is broken on her window.  The Constable says she last saw her enter
the room a half hour ago.”

“Listen, I’m just going to speak here.  If I insult you or
cover ground you have already covered then please excuse my American
arrogance.”

“Go ahead.”

“You need to put Michael Sherborn and Ivana’s face out there
to your constables.  Also, check out an estate agent named Bonner – Beverly
Bonner.  CSP Browning has the phone number.  Bentley Hughes is being set up.  I
bet my car that Maurice Sherborn was murdered.”

“What kind of car?”

“BMW Topaz blue convertible roadster.”

“Right.  You must be very sure.  The Constable picking you
up is named Mark Green, Constable Mark Green.  A Constable Strongheart will be
staying with the Price family.”

“Thank you, Inspector Fitch.”

I hung up the phone and ran up the stairs, I was glad Paz
was standing outside my door or I wouldn’t have found it.  I ran in.  Peter,
Billy and Noelle’s anxious faces looked up as I entered.

“I have bad news.  Maurice is dead, and Angie and Father
Michael are missing.  I feel Michael Sherborn is our mastermind, and if Ivana
isn’t dead she/he is in on this.  I need you three to stay here.  Make phone
calls, do whatever you need to do, but don’t leave this house.  Noelle and Paz,
you’re as much a target as Father Michael.  Billy less so, but I need to know
you’re safe.  Peter, I’m counting on you to keep these three safe.  A Constable
Green will be picking me up soon, and a Constable Strongheart will be securing
this house.  Stay together, this is a big house, someone may already be here.”

“Where are you going?”

“I am going to see CSP Browning.  He and Sergeant Moore are
at Maurice’s office.  They say it’s a suicide.  It isn’t.  I know it isn’t.  I
want you all to listen carefully.  Michael Sherborn and Ivana Penny have
planned very carefully to kill Maurice and frame Bentley.  I can’t prove it,
yet.  But I think Bentley never knew anything about the stolen music nor that
Angie was alive.  They want revenge.  No, more than that.  They want money.”

“Do you have to go?” Noelle asked.  "You're scaring
me.”

I pulled off the Kernow Daa necklace and put it around her
neck.  If it had power I wanted it to keep Noelle safe.  I would rely on my
faith and my wits.

“Honey, please try and understand.  I’m responsible for
Angie and Father Michael.  Maurice dug his own grave, but I put those two in
the line of fire.  I got all caught up in the romance of reunited lovers and
didn’t think things through. Peter, can I use your cell phone?”

“Sure.”  He got it out of his pocket.

“Please program in this number, I want to be able to hit a
single button to talk to you.  Is that possible?”

“Already done.”  He handed it back to me.  “Be careful.”

He guided Noelle out of the room.  Billy and Paz still stood
there.

“Try not to do anything dumb,” Paz said.

“Oh I will no doubt embarrass myself somehow, now I need
some privacy, I have to change.”  Billy left.  I whirled around.  “Paz hand me
that big shoe box.” I pulled off my pants and replaced them with the cargo
pants I had put in my overnight bag.  I pulled off my sweater and put on a
t-shirt and replaced the sweater.  From my purse I took the knife and opened it
a few times before I was satisfied.

"Don't go if you think you're going to have to use
that."

"Humor me, Paz.  I guess I’m doing a Girl Scout, Girl
Guide, thing here.  I am being prepared.  Insurance.  If I have it, I won't
need it.  At least I hope I won't."

"If you want to be prepared, then we need an expert. 
Back in a flash," Paz said flying out of the room.

I put on two pairs of socks.  They didn't match, but I
didn't think I would be dining with the queen tonight.  I pulled the Doc Martin
Boots out from the box Paz handed me.  I laced up the right, tying a double
knot - I didn’t want to lose another shoe.  I tied the left halfway up and slid
the closed knife between the socks and finished tying the boot.  I stood up and
walked a few steps to see if it would impede my gate.  It didn’t.

I began filling my cargo pockets with my passport, credit
card, pound notes and my sunglasses.  I was fumbling with my hair when the door
opened.  I turned around to see Lady Mary filling the doorway.

“I see you’re going off into battle.”  She looked me up and
down.  “They’ll find the knife, maybe.  The pockets will be searched but maybe
not your hair.  Come here.”