Chapter 34
“Are you sure?” I asked. “Look through the pockets of the clothes you wore yesterday. Maybe you took it out to show someone and shoved it into a pocket.”
I could see him across the room, digging through his clothes. He looked up at me with despair. “It was the only picture I had of my dad.”
That woke Eric, who slid his wire-rimmed glasses on. He was so adorable in his glasses with his hair mussed from sleeping that I couldn’t help smiling at him.
“Morning. Did I miss something?”
“They took the picture of my father!” Edgar was beyond distressed.
Whoever doped him couldn’t have taken anything he treasured more.
I poured another cup of tea and carried the tray out to the garden. Eric was yawning when he joined me.
Edgar brought his clothes outside. “Would you go through the pockets?”
“Sure.” I checked the pockets of his jeans. They were empty. His shirt didn’t contain pockets. “Would you mind if I looked through your wallet?”
Edgar took his clothes inside and brought out his wallet. He sat down and passed it to me.
I flipped it open. His driver’s license picture was better than most. I took each item out and placed it on the table. Credit cards, cash, and a few receipts. “I’m sorry, Edgar. I know how much that photograph meant to you.”
After a big slug of tea, I inserted everything back into the wallet and laid it on the table.
“What would someone want with that picture?” asked Eric. “Is there anything you haven’t told us about your dad?”
Edgar shrugged. “Thomas Jones. Flea market trader. Lived in Washington twenty-seven years ago. I know so little about him.”
“And your aunt said he might not want to be found.” Eric took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I hate to suggest this, but what if he was in hiding because he did something illegal?”
Of course a cop would think of that. I watched Edgar’s reaction, expecting him to protest.
“Anything is possible, I guess. That would explain a lot.”
The knock on the door that we were expecting finally came. “Ahh, breakfast has arrived!” said Eric.
I rose to open the door for Mr. DuBois. The professor was with him and rolled in the cart loaded with food. Mr. DuBois insisted on serving us, but made a plate of hash brown pancakes topped with smoked salmon and hollandaise sauce for himself as well.
“I have to hand it to you, DuBois,” said Eric. “My dad is a fantastic chef and I grew up eating some fancy food, but this is unbelievable. I should introduce you to him. I bet he would put this on the brunch menu at his restaurant.”
We ate ravenously, all except for Edgar.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
“I wish I could remember what happened.”
“They found you in Rock Creek Park,” said Eric. “Does that spark anything for you?”
“No. This entire trip has been a big bust. I don’t even have a photo to show people anymore. What am I going to tell my sister?”
Professor Maxwell studied him. “I’m not so sure that it’s a bust. Someone knows your father and for some reason, that person doesn’t want you to find him. Think about it. He went to a lot of trouble to dope you just to obtain the photograph of your dad. You have ruffled someone’s feathers, Edgar. It must mean you’re very close to finding him.”
Edgar’s face lit like a child given a chocolate. “I was ready to give up. You’re right. It must mean he’s here. Do you think he drugged me to get the picture away from me?”
Good heavens. I hoped not! What kind of father would do that?
While they were talking, I retrieved my sketch pad. The picture had shown Edgar’s dad in the distance, so the face had been quite small. I tried to recreate it from memory only larger.
While I was drawing, Eric glanced at my sketch. “You’re drawing Percy.”
I blinked and held it at arm’s length. “I am. Rats!”
Edgar stood up and circled the table to stand behind me. “Wow. But it looks like my dad, too. Do you think Percy could be my half brother?”
Oh swell. Poor Edgar came to town looking for his father and now he might have found his half brother who was a murderer? It didn’t get any worse than that. On the other hand, if Percy’s kidney was a match for Edgar’s sister, he would probably be willing to sell it.
“Maybe Percy’s dad was in the same business as yours,” Eric mused aloud.
I winced when I asked, “Has Percy been arrested yet?”
Eric made some phone calls while the rest of us cleared the dishes and took them back to the mansion. Mr. DuBois refused all offers to wash the dishes and shooed us out of his kitchen.
When Edgar and I returned to the carriage house, Eric said, “Good news. They brought him in for questioning but released him.”
“Like they did Zsazsa?” I asked.
“Exactly like that. They’re checking the phone records to see if he was in contact with Maisie. If they find some concrete evidence, they’ll arrest both of them. Right now they’ve got nothing on them.”
“Then we should pay Percy a visit, don’t you think?”
Edgar and Eric were all for it. I brought Peaches inside and fed her Tuna Delight which, from the way she gobbled it, must have lived up to its name.
We were on the verge of leaving when I remembered that Eric was supposed to stay off his leg. “Maybe you should wait here.”
“Not a chance!”
“At least take the crutch.”
Eric planted a big smooch on me. “I’ll be fine. If I can’t walk back, one of you can come pick me up.”
I reminded myself that sometimes you have to pick your battles. That was one I wasn’t going to win. However, if he was limping by the time we reached the sidewalk, I was sending him back to the carriage house.
I locked the door behind us and watched Eric as we walked along the driveway of the mansion. I thought he was doing amazingly well when he said, “Well! If it’s not Mr. Flower Bouquet.”
I looked around. Sure enough, Jack Miller was casually hanging out on the sidewalk. “He didn’t send me flowers, Eric!”
“No? Then what’s he doing here?”
Eric headed straight for him.