My eyes were on the far corner of Grassmarket-Canongate. I was sure I’d seen a person in a shabby coat and hat peeking around the building on that corner, watching me. But that certainty wavered a little as I continued to stare and didn’t see anything else for a few long beats. Nevertheless, I grabbed on to the arm of someone walking into the pub.
“Pardon?” the man said.
“Get Tom, right away,” I said.
“What?”
“Please. Get Tom. Now.”
“Aye,” he said. He hurried inside as I barely blinked, keeping my eyes on that now-dark spot, afraid I’d miss more … something.
An eternal half a minute or so later, Tom stepped out of the pub.
“Delaney?”
“Tom, come with me,” I said.
“Aye.”
We took off, across the square and toward the corner.
“I think I saw the Monster,” I said.
“Let’s call the police.”
“I’m not sure, though.”
“All right. Let me lead.” Tom moved ahead of me.
“Right around that building.”
We stopped and peered carefully around the corner. The brick-paved road led up to and under a bridge in the direction Birk and I had just come from—toward Whistle Binkies. A close was located in between the buildings about thirty feet way. I’d been in the close before; it was steep and frequently used on haunted tours. As we looked up the meagerly lit road, it seemed we briefly saw the flap of a coat at the close’s entrance.
Tom and I looked at each other.
“You saw that?” I said.
“I did.”
“Let’s follow,” I said. “I’ll call Inspector Winters as we go.”
Even if he’d wanted to argue, there wasn’t time to think. We were together, and we would be as careful as we could be.
“All right.” Tom led the way, and I pulled out my phone as we approached the close.
“Delaney?” Inspector Winters picked up just as Tom took out his phone and clicked on the flashlight app, shining it into the close. We didn’t see anyone, but the steep close was intimidating.
“Tom and I are chasing someone we thought might be the … Monster.”
“What? Stop immediately.”
“It’s okay, we’re keeping a distance.” I told him where we were.
“All right. Don’t go into that close, do you understand? I’ll get someone out there immediately.”
“Got it.” I ended the call and said to Tom, “We have strict instructions not to go in there.”
“Aye.” He held the light steady.
On each side, old brick buildings were stacked and angled atop each other, and metal fire escapes glinted off Tom’s light.
The slam of a door echoed around us.
Tom tried to move the light toward the direction of the noise, but because of the crazy angles of the buildings some doors were hidden from view, and echoes were weird anyway.
It couldn’t have been fifteen more seconds until a police car, sirens blaring, came to a stop behind us.
We identified ourselves and told them what we’d seen. On foot they took off up the close, with much stronger flashlights than the one on Tom’s phone.
“Stay back,” one of the officers commanded over his shoulder.
We did, but not far. We waited at the curb, where Inspector Winters soon pulled up and parked his car.
“Glad you two are okay,” he said.
“We’re fine,” I said. “I was pretty sure I saw something, but I just didn’t know,” I said. “And then both Tom and I saw something here.”
“I have no doubt we saw the flap of a coat,” Tom said. “But that’s it.”
“The person who was arrested was released?” I asked.
“Aye.”
“Was it someone we know?”
“Aye, I believe it was.”
When he didn’t continue, I tried not to look too eager.
Inspector Winters took a deep breath and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Aye. We arrested Findlay Sweet, but I’m requesting that you not share that information. We only had circumstantial evidence, so it didn’t really hold up, but there might be more for the police to find. We hoped he could help us find Shelagh, but now we believe he had nothing to do with her disappearance.”
“When you say ‘we,’ do you include yourself?” I asked.
“I watched the interview recording. I believe him too. I know more about Findlay Sweet than I ever wanted to, including the fact that he once worked with Tom and that he was the one who delivered the messenger to you, Delaney.”
“What about his ex-wife?” I asked. “Jessica Sweet. I saw her picture on the internet, and I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere, but I couldn’t place her.”
“He hasn’t been married for a long time. I don’t think we’ve talked to her,” Inspector Winters said as he reached for the notebook and pen he kept in his shirt pocket.
“If you do, I’d love to know where she works or lives—I really do feel like I’ve seen her somewhere.” I looked at Tom.
“I haven’t seen her since the day I talked to her about her husband’s behavior all those years ago. I can’t remember what job she did or even if she had one back then,” he said.
“Well, I can’t imagine it matters at all, but just to satisfy my curiosity I’d like to know where I’ve seen her.”
The other officers exited the close.
“Anything?” Inspector Winters asked them.
They shook their heads. “Nothing. We’re going to do a walkabout, though, check the surrounding area.”
“Very good. Be safe.”
Once the officers left, Inspector Winters turned to us again.
“The officers on the case have some new clues to explore, but I’m not at liberty to share them with you. At this point mostly we’d like to find Shelagh O’Conner. Of course we don’t want any other burglaries or murders, but we do suspect that the appearance of the New Monster has something to do with Shelagh’s disappearance. We want her safe. Come along. I’ll get the two of you back to the pub. Be aware. Don’t go out alone.”
“You do believe we really saw something?” I asked as we crossed Grassmarket. I was shaking out my arms, still tense and wired.
“Aye. Can’t tell you if it was the Monster or not, but … just be careful,” Inspector Winters said.
“We will be,” Tom said.
I wondered if Tom was going to insist on being with me now 24/7. Not that I would mind hanging out with him that much, but we both had things to do.
Inspector Winters told us good-bye and then jogged back to his car. Tom and I watched him turn and wave in our direction.
“Are you all right, lass?” Tom pulled me close.
“I’m fine. Please don’t worry.”
Tom laughed. “I’ll always worry, but I’m glad you had someone come get me, that you didn’t go alone.”
I pulled back. “You saw the coat flap, right? You’re not just saying that to support me?”
“No, I saw it.” Tom looked toward the corner, his eyebrows coming together. “I don’t know what’s going on or why it seems—and it does seem like this—that whoever is doing all this wants you to see them. You, specifically.”
I hadn’t thought of it exactly that way, but Birk hadn’t mentioned any in-person Monster sightings. I hadn’t asked the others.
“Hello,” a familiar voice said.
We jumped and turned. Tricia stood in the pub’s doorway, her arms crossed in front of herself.
“Tricia?” I said.
“I’ve been waiting. I saw you leave.” She nodded at Tom and then looked back at me. “What were you guys doing? Did I see police cars down there?”
“Hello, Tricia. Good to see you again.” Not missing a beat, Tom stepped toward her and extended his hand. She was so petite that even though she stood on a step, he was still a little taller than her.
They shook.
“You know, I wanted to tell you that you are extraordinarily handsome,” she said with no flirtation at all as she pushed up her glasses.
“Thank you,” he said. “Come on in, drinks are on me.”
The crowd had thinned even more since Birk dropped me off. The three of us moved to the bar, Tom letting Tricia and me pass first. He and I exchanged some conspiratorial raised eyebrows as I moved by. We weren’t going to share the details of what had happened at the other end of Grassmarket—according to our eyebrows at least.
Tricia and I sat on tall stools and both ordered Cokes as Tom moved to the other side of the bar. Rodger was there, as well as a young man I hadn’t met yet. I would introduce myself when he wasn’t so busy.
I was still rattled, but I thought I was hiding it well. I clasped my hands together to conceal any leftover shaking. There was no indication that Tom might be distracted or bothered. He was good at this.
“What’s going on?” I asked Tricia.
“That’s why I’m here, to ask you. After that night at the pub, I haven’t been able to figure out anything, and I was in the area, knew you guys owned the pub. I know I said I wanted to work alone, but I’m wondering if you’ve gotten any farther on the hunt.”
I thought the person Tom and I had seen in the coat probably hadn’t been Tricia, probably not even female, but I was still wary. The timing might be uncanny—or it might not be.
I shrugged noncommittally. “It’s been difficult.” I took a drink of the Coke that Tom put in front of me. “I feel like I’m onto something and then I’m not. I don’t think I have any real answers. What about Jacques?”
“What about him?”
“You made sure he got back to his room. Is he okay? Did you two decide to work together?”
“I dropped him off outside is all. We aren’t working together,” she said almost defensively. “I don’t think Jacques cares about the books. I think he just wants one of us to find the treasure so he can get the money from Shelagh and go back home.” Tricia paused. “I mean, if Shelagh is ever able to pay out. I guess she’ll have to be found first.”
“I guess. Would you mind sharing what Shelagh said to you during your tour of the library? My time with her was cut short.”
“Oh. Sure.” She took a drink too. “She told me how important her library was to her, how important that story of Jekyll and Hyde is to her.”
“What did she say as to why she loves the story so much?”
“I don’t think we talked about that part.”
I nodded, thinking it very well could have just been because I always like to know the reasons people love their favorite books that Shelagh and I’d had that discussion.
“I asked her about her staff, about that man named Louis and the driver, Findlay something,” Tricia said.
“Yeah?” I said, sitting up a little more.“Why?”
“Don’t really know, except they both set off alarm bells with me. She said that she trusts them both completely. I asked about any other people who work for her. I was just curious, you know. It’s such a big house, and I wondered how she kept it all going.”
“And?”
“She said she has a housekeeping service, her cook is a woman who comes in every other day and makes the most delicious food. They barely see each other.” Tricia paused. “She did, however, mention that she was bothered a little about the guy who tends the horses. Winston, I think. She wouldn’t go into detail, but when she went missing, I told the police what she’d said.”
I remembered Shelagh’s being bothered by what she said she thought had been Winston’s night of drinking.
“Good. What else did she say about him?” I asked.
“Nothing that I remember.”
“Did the police tell you anything else that day?” I asked.
“No.”
“Did Shelagh talk about anyone else?”
“No, did she to you?”
“No, but our time was cut short,” I repeated.
“Because the police came and got her?”
“Yes, but she was released.”
“Oh, I know. Personally, I don’t think Shelagh has done anything wrong. I think her past life is being used as an excuse for someone to misbehave in the worst ways possible. I knew that it would happen, though, or something like it. It’s just too good of a story for someone not to remake it. You know, copycats?”
Was it possible I could like Tricia? “I do know.”
“So you haven’t figured out anything else?”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t.” Well, I only might like her.
“Okay. I haven’t either.” She shrugged.
Companionable silence isn’t too difficult in a pub, but it wasn’t easy to achieve with Tricia. She seemed uncomfortable and anxious, and not really interested in conversation. I suspected she wasn’t one to visit many pubs.
Finally, she looked at Tom. “May I use the loo?”
“Aye. Just down the hall.”
When she returned, she finished off her Coke and told us she needed to head home. Tom and I watched her weave her way through the pub and then out the door.
“Maybe that’s her way of trying to be friends?” Tom said when she was out of sight.
“Maybe,” I said. “Do you suppose she wanted to tell me something but couldn’t get around to it?”
“Lass, I have no idea.”
I nodded. “All right, let’s go over what we saw out there again. Do you mind?”
“Not even a little bit.”