It was the serious-looking man who’d danced with Lucille Killingworth on the boat the night of the wedding. The man with barracuda eyes.
“Oh, my apologies,” he said. He didn’t seem to recognize Dan. “I’ll come back later, Pete.”
Before Saylor could introduce them, he’d vanished around the door. Dan waited a beat then tried for casual. “Who was that?”
“That’s Commissioner Burgess,” Saylor said, grinning. “The big shiny brass in this small town.”
“I think he was at the wedding,” Dan said nonchalantly.
“Yeah.” Saylor kept his voice low. “He’s a friend of Lucille Killingworth’s.”
Dan nodded. “Can we step out for a coffee somewhere?”
The Royal Café in downtown Picton was another holdover from Victorian times. A tin ceiling held onto its silver paint, but only barely. Large flaps hung down here and there, as though the sky had given way.
“Shoot,” said Saylor. “It’s free to talk in here.” He turned his head to the back of the café, where an older woman stood wiping cake crumbs off a table. “Maggie’s deaf,” he said with a wink.
“That file you sent me — did you check to see if it was intact before it went to the courier?”
Saylor looked at him. “I never even thought to look,” he said. “Wasn’t it all there?”
Dan shook his head. “Most of it, but there was one document missing.”
“Any idea what was in it?”
“It was labelled M.H. Possibly someone’s initials. Maybe a clerk’s. My guess is it had something to do with the assault charges Lucille Killingworth filed against her husband. I was hoping you could take a second look for me.”
Saylor looked perplexed. “I’ll try,” he said, “but I sent everything there was. I can get one of the junior officers to look around and see if it was misfiled, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope. It was in a bunch of boxes that got shuffled off to a storage unit more than ten years ago. I had to get special permission to open it.” He shrugged again. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
Dan was silent for a moment. He looked up at Saylor. “Did you ever meet Craig Killingworth?”
“No,” Saylor said. “But my brother went to the high school where Craig was principal. I remember there was some scandal and he disappeared for a few months in the middle of a school year. Then came the assault charges and he lost his job. Suspended, actually. It shocked a lot of people.” His tone became reflective. “You never know about people — the secrets they hide.”
“I guess not,” Dan said.
“Last month I got called to a place just outside town. A mechanic, one of the toughest guys around, hanged himself in his barn. Of all the people you might expect to commit suicide, he wouldn’t be anywhere near the top of my list.”
“You’re right,” Dan said. “You never know. I’m curious though, why was a rich guy like Killingworth working as a school principal?”
Saylor’s face frowned in concentration. “I guess because it was her money,” he said. “I think she expected him to earn his keep.” He stopped and looked over at the counter. “Maggie!” he called in a loud voice.
The old woman looked up. “Yes, Pete? Did you call?”
“I did, Maggie. I’m just wondering if you remember the Killingworths.”
“Who?”
“Killingworths,” he said, even louder. “The husband disappeared about twenty years ago. He was the school principal.”
“Oh, yes!” she said, her face suddenly transformed by memory. “Other side of the reach.”
“Rich family, weren’t they?” Saylor asked.
The woman nodded slowly. “Oh, yes,” she concurred. “It was her father’s money. Nathaniel Macaulay. I don’t think you’d remember him. It was Nate’s great-great-great-grandfather who founded Picton. The Reverend William Macaulay. With a Crown grant of four hundred acres. I’m surprised you don’t remember your local history, Pete. Nathaniel must have died twelve, fifteen years ago. Something like that. You could check on the gravestone if you wanted. He’s buried up the road at St. Mary Magdalene.”
“Thanks, Maggie.”
She turned back to her work.
“There you have it,” Saylor said. He checked his watch. “I’d better be getting back before I’m missed.”
Out on the street, he shook hands with Dan. “Are you single, by the way?” He winked. “I could set you up with my brother.”
Dan grinned in embarrassment. “Thanks, but I’m not on the market at present.”
“Too bad,” Saylor said. “For him, anyway.” He nodded to a young couple passing on the sidewalk before turning back to Dan. “Just a word of warning,” he said. “It’s a small town here. Watch your back while you’re snooping around. Especially with Commissioner Burgess a friend of Mrs. Killingworth.”
“Warning noted,” Dan said. “Thanks for everything. I’ll be in touch.”
“And thanks for coming by,” Saylor said, as though it was Dan who had done him the favour.
Sally gave him a glum look on his return the following morning. She’d retired the blue, orange, and violet for an all-black outfit. She was a veritable Queen of the Night, with a stroke of magenta eye shadow. Mourning or colour fatigue, it was hard to say. She sighed and plunked her notebook onto his desk. Dan glanced up, trying not to look amused by this expression of exasperation.
“I can’t find him anywhere,” she said.
“Who?” Dan said, playing dumb.
“Oh, great! You don’t even remember what you asked me to find for you.”
“Fill me in,” Dan said.
“I can tell you without doubt there is not a single Magnus Ferguson listed with any public telephone directory in the entire country,” she said. “I have now checked the records dating back ten years.” Dan whistled. “Not only that, I’ve also called all one hundred and fifty of the ‘M. Fergusons’ listed and not one of them claims to be or to know a ‘Magnus.’ And now, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to go back to cleaning chamber pots.”
He laughed as she flounced out of his room and then turned right back around. “Oh yeah — and this very creepy guy has been trying to get hold of you since yesterday. He refuses to leave a message.” She placed a name and number on his desk and left.
Larry Fiske. Dan didn’t recognize the name. He dialled the number and reached the reception desk at the firm of Fiske and Travis. Dan was put through immediately. Fiske identified himself as a lawyer representing the Killingworth family. Of course, this was the mysterious “Larry” that Thom and his mother had discussed during their meeting with Dan. Finally, Dan thought, he was going to be told Lucille had hired him to find her missing husband. He had more than a few questions, and was still undecided whether or not he’d willingly continue with the request to find Craig Killingworth.
“Mr. Sharp, I’m told you have been very loyal to the Killingworth family.”
That had been Lucille Killingworth’s phrase, Dan recalled. He needed to make clear his position once and for all. “Mr. Fiske, I would not describe my actions as being loyal to the Killingworths,” he said slowly. “When I met with Lucille and Thom last month I was simply doing them a favour. In a personal capacity.”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” Larry went on. “So are you taking on the case?”
“I’m considering it,