ON THE TELEVISION, Detective Chief Inspector Paddington addressed a group of journalists in front of the Blackpool police department. “We’re still sorting out the events of the last few days, but it appears we have all the suspects in hand.”
“Were Stefan Draghici and Lockwood Nightingale the men behind the kidnappings and the murders?” A reporter near the front thrust a microphone at Paddington.
“Yes, that has been confirmed through the testimony of Mr. Aleister Crowe, Miss Lydia Crowe and Mr. and Mrs. Michael Graham.”
“Who employed Nightingale?”
Paddington held his hands up. “I’m afraid that answer is part of an ongoing investigation.”
“Think they’ll ever find out?”
Michael turned and smiled at Rohan Wallace. He’d come out of his coma only a few hours ago and appeared to be doing well. Nanny Myrie sat in the chair next to the hospital bed and held her grandson’s hand. Her eyes were bright and hopeful.
“That’s going to be hard to prove, I’m afraid,” Michael told his friend. “Nightingale was a careful man.”
“You know what?” Molly stood near the window and peered out at the sea. “I’ll bet that whoever hired him is related to someone named in Charles Crowe’s logs. Even if we never find a way to prove they were responsible for Nightingale, they’re still going to get hit hard in the press when that information goes viral.”
Rohan grinned at that. “Can’t believe Aleister Crowe isn’t fighting you for those logs.”
“Oh, Crowe got the original logs back. But not till Michael and I copied the logs and released the information onto the internet.”
Michael walked to the tea service. “He can sue us, of course, but in the end it’s not going to benefit him much. The only ones to benefit would be the army of barristers he’d have to hire.” He shrugged. “All Molly and I would need is one good barrister to keep reminding people of the evil Crowe would be trying to cover up. He’d draw far more attention to what actually happened that way. I think he sees that it would be in his best interest to just cut his losses at this point and accept the fact that his family name is going to get the tarnishing it’s deserved for almost two hundred years.” He held up his cup. “Would you like tea?”
“Please.” Nanny Myrie smiled at him.
“A little, if you don’t mind,” Rohan said. “Please.”
Michael poured two cups and took them over. In the two days since the events at Crowe’s Nest and the underground maze, he’d healed up some. His face was scabbed and bruised where he’d been cut and he was still getting around a mite stiffly, but otherwise he figured he’d be right as rain in a short time.
Rohan took his cup. “The sad thing is that Charles Crowe’s fortune was found.”
“Actually, that’s not so bad,” Molly said to Rohan. “I just had a meeting with Aleister Crowe last night.”
“Against my better judgment.” Michael returned to his seat.
Molly joined him and leaned a hip against his shoulder. “I pointed out to Aleister that keeping the fortune would probably prove unwise. Charles Crowe had already left a sour taste in the mouths of most people around Blackpool, and the whiff of—”
“Reeking stench, you mean.” Michael grimaced.
“—the slave trade would be hard to overcome.” Molly wrapped an arm around him and squeezed but didn’t admonish him. “In the end, it’s best for all concerned if he just gives it away.”
Wide-eyed, Rohan looked at Molly. “You’re kidding me.”
Michael laughed. “I thought you knew. Molly can be quite persuasive when she wants to.”
Molly curtsied unashamedly.
Nanny Myrie applauded. “You’ve got yourself a fine woman, Michael.”
“That, Mrs. Myrie, I already knew.” Michael roped his arms around Molly’s waist. “She reminds me on a daily basis.”
“Oh, quit, you ogre.” Molly cuffed him on the head.
“So who’s Crowe giving the treasure to?”
“I’ve set up a charity that will give the wealth back to the affected West African countries. Charles Crowe kept amazingly good notes.”
Rohan frowned. “Can you really trust a charity?”
Molly smiled. “You can trust this one. I’m going to be heading it up.” She looked at Rohan. “As far as the tribal belongings that were found, those are going to be returned to the countries of origin to be placed in museums where the artifacts can be safely monitored. Many are fantastic pieces that will help shed light on the history of those cultures.”
Rohan lay back more comfortably in the hospital bed. “That’s good. That’s all I was really after.”
“I know, mate.” Michael nodded at Nanny Myrie. “Your grandmother explained that.”
“What about the gypsy gold, though?”
Molly smiled. “I suppose a case could be made for it if there were documentation—which there isn’t. Or if Draghici hung around Blackpool to muddy the water with legal writs. Unfortunately he and his clan escaped from the tunnels before Paddington and his men could catch them. They seem to have disappeared from Blackpool and are now on the run from kidnapping charges. I don’t think Blackpool will see him again anytime soon.”
Michael set his teacup on a nearby table. “I do have one question.”
“Of course.”
“The man who was killed after I found him trying to talk to you here in the hospital?”
“I knew him as Dunkirk, but you say his name is Harper?” Rohan nodded and looked troubled.
“It was. How did you get mixed up with him?”
“I met him one night in a tavern. He was part of a construction crew working on the marina overhaul. We got to talking over a few pints, and he let it slip that he was a cracksman.”
“Safes?”
“Yes. I was convinced that if I could get into Crowe’s Nest, I’d be able to figure out where the artifacts were. Dunkirk—Harper—already knew about Charles Crowe’s legendary hoard. I didn’t go there hunting for the treasure. I went there looking for the artifacts of my people. Newspaper articles and magazines talked a lot about the personal art collections maintained at Crowe’s Nest. Things from all over the world, they said. It was logical that whatever Charles Crowe had taken, he’d probably put it on display somewhere in that house. I figured all I had to do was find one stolen item to prove my case.” Rohan shook his head. “Didn’t count on running into Aleister Crowe and his gun that night.” He took a deep breath. “I think I was just drunk enough and scared.”
“So Harper was trying to get information from you regarding the treasure.”
“I guess so, mate. But why did Darrow’s men kill Harper?”
Michael shrugged. “They were afraid that he would grass on the others and reveal that Nightingale had hired Darrow.”
Rohan grimaced. “It’s a good thing they didn’t think I knew anything.”
“You knew enough. If it hadn’t been for you, none of this would have come to light.”
“Do you think that’s true?” Rohan grinned. “All these mysteries lying around the two of you, and you wouldn’t have kept poking and prodding till you had the answers?”
Michael and Molly started to disagree.
“Seriously?” Rohan rolled his eyes. “Molly, you’ve been turning this town upside down and inside out since you’ve been here. And, Michael? That model in the library had been on your mind since the first day you saw it, and every time a chance arose for you to go poking around, there you went.” He smiled at them. “The two of you have noses for trouble and mysteries. You’re not going to be able to stay clear of them as long as you’re in Blackpool.”
Molly glanced at Michael. “Let’s hope Inspector Paddington isn’t thinking the same thing.”
“If he is, we’ll be run out of town, love.”
“Actually, I’ve decided I’m through with mysteries. They’re too dangerous. Not at all like books and movies.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Michael was a little disappointed that Molly felt that way, but he wasn’t going to dissuade her. They’d surely had enough close calls to last them a lifetime.
Molly walked to the window and peered out, as she’d been doing all morning. “However, I heard an odd story about Glower Lighthouse the other day that made me curious. It’s one I haven’t heard before.”
Despite himself, Michael grew interested immediately. “What story?”
Molly faced him. “Did you know the lighthouse is supposed to be haunted?”
“Most places around here are. That’s how Other Syde Tours makes its money.”
“But this ghost isn’t in their script. Mrs. Peck says one of the lighthouse ghosts steals children’s toys. Nothing else. Just children’s toys.”
Michael rubbed his chin and considered that. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Odd, isn’t it?”
“Yes…” Michael stretched his legs. “Maybe we could wander over that way after lunch. Take a small look round.”
Molly appeared to think about it, but Michael knew she’d already made up her mind. “I’d be willing to. Of course, it wouldn’t do to mention any of this to Inspector Paddington.”
“He won’t hear it from me.” Michael crossed his heart with his forefinger.