Marjorie Thelen - Designer Detective

“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.”

“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.”