Bonnie of Evidence (34 page)

“Your whole entertainment was so realistic,” a bystander told Nana. “Are you a professional or amateur troupe?”

I hurried over to Lucille and put my arms around her. “Are you all right, sweetie? Did he hurt you?”

“Nope,” she said as she took a deep breath and straightened her spine. “Only my pride.”

TWENTY-TWO

A
T THE INVITATION OF
Detective Constable Bean, we gathered at the police station the following morning—Nana, Wally, Erik, Alex, Etienne, and myself—to tie up a score of loose ends. Cameron remained in the Dumfries police station outside of Gretna Green, waiting to be transported back to Wick under armed guard.

“We’d been monitoring his activities ever since wife number five was exhumed,” Erik explained. “What looked like an unfortunate car accident turned out to be murder, but we couldn’t pin anything on him because we couldn’t draw a connection between him and the toxin that killed her.”

Alex nodded. “When the toxicology reports come back for Isobel and Dolly, I suspect they’ll indicate that both women were poisoned.”

“The results of Isobel Kronk’s labs just came in,” said Bean. “Arsenic poisoning. When Ms. Pinker’s come back, I imagine it’ll read the same.”

“But how did he pull it off ?” I questioned. “He could never go anywhere without all of those women absolutely smothering him. How did he poison two of them without the rest of them seeing him do it?”

“Maybe he done it when he had a minute all to hisself,” said Nana. “You remember that first night in Loch Ness when your father seen the monster? Them four girls was all in the potty at the same time, ’cuz I was in there with ’em, waitin’ for the stalls to open up. You s’pose that woulda give Cameron the chance he needed to slip somethin’ into Isobel’s dessert?”

“Wouldn’t she have been able to taste it?” asked Wally.

Erik shook his head. “Not if he used white arsenic. Dissolved in a cup of coffee, I’m told it’s virtually tasteless.”

“Okay, he might have taken advantage of an opportunity there,” I agreed, “but what about Dolly?”

Wally scratched the back of his head, looking pensive. “When we first arrived in Wick, Dolly complained about a headache coming on, so she asked me if I had any over-the-counter stuff I could give her. I told her I’d have to unpack my suitcase to get to it, but Cameron overhead us and told me not to bother because he had some extra-strength acetaminophen capsules on him.”

The room grew quiet.

“I imagine the capsules were packed with arsenic,” said Etienne.

Alex nodded. “You can buy white arsenic in powdered form over the Internet, so transferring it into pain capsules was probably the easiest part of the whole process.”

“Poor Lucille.” I shivered involuntarily. “She would have been next.”

“I’m still unclear as to why Lucille’s roommate didn’t notice she was missing until the following morning,” said Etienne. He offered me a perplexed look. “Isn’t Alice usually more observant than that?”

“It’s on account of that dang ferry ride,” Nana piped up. “Alice told me she was so sick that night, she slept like the dead. She didn’t even get up to go potty. Not once.” She gave a little suck on her uppers. “Take it from me, that’s pretty dead.”

“In Alice’s defense,” Wally spoke up, raising his hand testimonial style, “when she realized Lucille’s bed hadn’t been slept in, she raised an immediate hue and cry. Alice conducted herself quite admirably.”

“Maybe you should offer her one of them free trips you’re givin’ away, dear,” suggested Nana.

Etienne frowned. “Free trips? What free trips?”

“I still can’t believe how incredibly nice Cameron pretended to be,” I reflected. “I mean, he was the one who tried to protect me when our boat hit the dock on Loch Ness. Isn’t that a little out of character for a serial killer?”

“In Dasher’s case, no,” said Erik. “He loves women. Just because he had no scruples about killing them doesn’t mean he didn’t feel strongly about wanting to protect them. The brain of a serial killer can be very complex.”

“Was he telling me the truth about having five sisters?”

“He has five sisters who adore him,” confided Alex. “They’ll no doubt be completely devastated when they learn the truth about what he’s been doing all these years.”

I sat back in my chair and leveled a look at both Erik and Alex. “And what about the two of you?” I said in an accusing voice. “You don’t exist.”

They exchanged a look. “We’d prefer you keep that to yourself,” said Alex.

“Who
are
you guys?”

Erik laughed. “Have you heard the old saw, ‘If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you’? Our organization coined the phrase.”

“No kiddin’?” said Nana.

“So it’s all been one grand masquerade,” I allowed. “The rocket science, the gayness, the shopping.”

“We faked two out of three,” admitted Erik, smiling drolly. “I’ll leave it to your imagination to guess which one still applies.”

“Do you two fellas always work as a team?” asked Nana.

Alex cleared his throat. “This was a first … as evidenced by our many glitches which Mrs. Miceli always seemed to be on hand to witness. You’re a very nice person, Mrs. Miceli, but you can be a real thorn in a person’s side.”

I drilled a look at Erik. “Are you Fast Freddie Torres?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What did you drop on the floor the night you drove your foot through the wall?”

He thrust his chin at Alex. “My butterfingered partner dropped the laptop. Completely fried the system and all our data.”

“Where were you when Dolly died?”

“At the train station, checking on the schedule. We were already anticipating Dasher’s next move.”

“Who’s Stu?”

Erik held my gaze. “Pretend you never heard the name.”

“How were you going to deal with me if I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong?”

The two men exchanged glances.

“I overheard your conversation on the ferry.”

“We would have had to take you into our confidence about the mission,” said Alex, “and that would have increased the possibility of more people getting hurt by a factor of a thousand.”

“I thank you gentlemen for keeping her in the dark,” Etienne said gratefully.

“So are you young fellas plannin’ to finish up the tour with us?” asked Nana.

“I don’t think so,” said Alex as he wiggled the toes sticking out of the foot of his cast. “In fact, Mrs. Sippel, I’d prefer to be gutted with a grapefruit spoon than spend another afternoon with your maniacal friends from Iowa. You people are dangerous.”

“We’re nuthin’ compared to my Maccoull kin. They coulda gutted you real good, only they woulda had to use something besides a serrated spoon, on account of they didn’t have no grapefruit back then.”

Wally stood up. “If you’re through with us, Officer Bean, we should be heading back to the hotel. We kind of have this schedule to maintain.”

Bean shook hands all around, as did Erik, who pumped Nana’s hand with an extra degree of admiration. “Impressive roundhouse kick in your takedown, Mrs. Sippel. Have you ever considered the competitive circuit?”

At the door, Nana snapped her fingers and turned back to Officer Bean. “You got any use for a helicopter?”

“I’m afraid a helicopter is beyond our budget.”

“You don’t gotta buy it; I’m givin’ it away. All’s I need you to do is write me a receipt. I can use the tax deduction.”

_____

Back at the hotel, things were happily chaotic.

“Is there any reason we can’t continue the contest today?” Mom asked me.

“Nope.”

“Are Erik and Alex coming back?”

“Nope.”

“Then I’ll have several open slots where I could put Bernice. Now all I have to decide is whether she’s a better fit with the atheist or the vegetarian.”

“Go for it.”

Etienne came up behind me. “Free trips?”

“Think about all the new business it’s going to generate!” I grabbed Dad as he shuffled out to the bus.

“Did you know there are at least twenty-one lochs in Scotland where Nessie-type creatures have been sighted?”

“Really?” His eyes lit up.

“You bet. Twenty-one. And we’re planning to rejigger our itinerary so we can visit at least two of them.”

“No kidding?” His face suddenly fell. “But I don’t have a camcorder.”

Tilly approached us from the direction of the front desk and handed Dad a shopping sack. “The hardware store sent this over for you, Bob.”

I smiled as he peeked inside. “You do now.”

As I watched them stampede out the door, I prayed we’d have smooth sailing for the rest of the trip. I’d packed up Hamish Maccoull’s dirk with the intention of delivering it to the University of Glasgow at the end of the tour, so if it was indeed cursed, it could stay cursed in the country of its origin rather than someplace new, like say, Windsor City, Iowa. Our killer had been caught, Bernice wouldn’t have anything to whine about for a few days, and our room this evening was supposedly furnished with a king-size bed, so I had big after-dinner plans.

With our outlook appearing so rosy, what could possibly go wrong?

“Emily, dear, come quick!” Nana raced back into the lobby. “Dick Teig’s kilt just fell off … and he’s not wearin’ no undershorts!”

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

After experiencing disastrous vacations on three continents, Maddy Hunter decided to combine her love of humor, travel, and storytelling to fictionalize her misadventures. Inspired by her feisty aunt and by memories of her Irish grandmother, she created the nationally bestselling, Agatha Award–nominated Passport to Peril mystery series, where quirky seniors from Iowa get to relive everything that went wrong on Maddy’s holiday.
Bonnie of Evidence
is the eighth book in the series. Maddy lives in Madison, Wisconsin, with her husband and a head full of imaginary characters who keep asking, “Are we there yet?”

Please visit her website at www.maddyhunter.com, or become a follower on her Maddy Hunter Facebook Fan Page:

http://www.facebook.com/AuthorMaddyHunter

Author photo by Photo Express.