Friday was my day with no class, yet I was still in Edinburgh by late morning. I prayed all the way into town that somehow Sheila had reappeared overnight, but when Amanda opened the door to the Rest, her face ashen, her eyes panicked, I knew something had changed, and not for the better.
“Thank God it’s you.” She pulled me inside, steered me into her tiny office, and shut the door. “This just came through the letterbox.” She handed me a folded sheet of printer paper with childish, cutout magazine letters spelling out a terse message.
£20,000
Tell no one or you’ll never see Sheila again.
Instructions in twenty-four hours.
Amanda yanked the front of her loose sweater tightly around herself. “I don’t have that kind of money. I mean, look at this place. Where on earth would they think I could get £20,000?”
“Did it come like this, or in an envelope?” I asked.
“In this.” Amanda handed over a white envelope and continued to pace restlessly around the small space. The writing on the front was little more than a smudged scrawl, but seeing it, I suspected Amanda hadn’t looked past the first letter of the addressee’s name.
“Look closer,” I said, handing the envelope back.
Amanda squinted at the lettering. “Abigail? Why would someone deliver something to you here, and why would they think you’d be able to come up with twenty thousand pounds to ransom a perfect stranger.”
“Maybe because I could,” I replied.
“Really?” Amanda stopped pacing and looked at me.
“You didn’t check me out before you asked me to join your board?” I asked.
“Reverend Craig told us to let you help and I figured that was good enough. I certainly didn’t run a credit check on you.” Amanda’s voice was steadily rising in pitch.
My brain was spinning into overdrive. Whoever made this demand had to know I was on the board and had resources at my disposal. That was a small group of people. “Who knew I’d taken a spot on the board?”
“All the other members, plus Sheila, of course. We talked about it after you left. I suppose one of the other residents could’ve overheard. Other than that, no one.”
“Okay, sit down and let me think for a moment.” I was tempted to say ‘Relax,’ but that wasn’t possible. I walked to the window and stared down at the street.
“At least if someone is trying to get money for her, that must mean Sheila’s still okay,” Amanda said, blowing her nose.
I hoped Amanda was right, but I wasn’t as confident as she was. “Have you called the police?”
“No,” Amanda snapped. “No cops. I don’t want to put her at greater risk.”
I tried not to look exasperated. “But the police already know she’s missing.”
“And they were here this morning.” Amanda blanched. “What if the kidnapper thinks I called the police about the ransom?” She rose and began pacing again.
“You didn’t mention the note to the police when they were here?”
Amanda shook her head. “I told you it just arrived. The police were here first thing this morning.”
What a mess. In spite of the ransom note, I was still convinced Sheila had been taken by Urquhart or Ross because she knew too much. So why the demand for money? Urquhart didn’t need money, and neither did Ross.
“I hate to say it,” I began gently, “but it’s possible that this is just a scam. Whoever sent the demand might not even have Sheila.”
“Then why send a ransom note?” Amanda demanded.
“Trying to cash in on the situation,” I suggested. “It could just be an opportunist out to make some money.”
Amanda’s face fell, but she squared her shoulders and looked up at me. “The only way to find out for sure is to pay the ransom.”
“I can front the money to set a trap, but to find out who’s behind this, I’ll need help.”
“I can help,” Amanda insisted.
“No. I don’t want to put you in danger. Whoever sent the ransom note is likely to recognize you immediately if you’re hanging around. We need professional help. We need to call the police.”
Amanda faced me fiercely. “Tell no one, that’s what they said. No one. We have to follow the instructions. If you can pay the money, we will get her back safely and have done with this.”
Amanda was either naïve or being purposely obtuse. “It’s usually not that simple,” I pointed out. “Even if you hand the money over, there’s no guarantee Sheila will be returned.”
“But we have to try—for Nora’s sake,” Amanda pleaded. “Sheila may not come back to us, no matter what, but if we don’t follow the instructions, we’re absolutely lost.” There was a panic in her eyes that made me feel we were touching on a particularly raw nerve for some reason. Rationalizing with her on this point wasn’t an option. I decided to switch tracks. “How’s Nora holding up?”
“Frightened,” Amanda said, continuing to pace in the confined space. “I stayed with her last night and insisted she go to school today, just to try to keep things as normal as possible.”
“I think we need to get her away from here as soon as we can,” I insisted. “Any word from social services?”
Amanda took a deep breath and forced herself to be still for a moment, holding the back of the chair. “They weren’t thrilled with the idea of moving her out of the area, but they don’t have many foster families on their rolls and they finally agreed after your police friend called them and weighed in.”
“Good, that’s something at least. When can she come up?”
“I planned to bring her up later this afternoon after school, if we hadn’t heard from Sheila.” Amanda grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and blotted at her eyes. The tears that had been threatening were now rolling down her cheeks. “I was sure she’d be back by now. You will keep trying to find her, won’t you? Reverend Craig believes in you, and so do I.”
I groaned inwardly. No pressure at all. “I don’t know if I can help,” I said finally, “but I’ll try. Let’s start with who’s been in and out of the Rest over the past two days.”
Amanda took a deep breath and shut her eyes. “All the residents obviously, and me. Then you, of course, and Sam.”
“Sam?”
“Urquhart’s handyman. He comes over to fix things when we need it. He’s not much good, but he’s cheap.”
“Was that who Sheila was waiting for on Wednesday?”
Amanda nodded. “Dishwasher was leaking again.”
“So Sam would’ve spoken to Sheila the day she went missing.”
“Briefly. He’s not at all social. Talks as little as possible and usually says the wrong thing when he does. He makes some of the girls a bit uncomfortable, but I think he’s harmless enough.”
“I hope so.” People who don’t talk much often listen a lot. I’d be interested to know what Sam saw or heard that afternoon. Not only that, he was an employee of Urquhart’s. What other odd jobs might he be willing to do for a price? Abduction? Murder?
Amanda stood watching me, her arms crossed tightly in front of her. A compact bundle of nerves. “Anyone else around who doesn’t live here, other than Sam?”
“No. The girls are very private. They don’t exactly invite people over.”
“Who has keys to the Rest?”
“Richard obviously. He owns the place. Me. All the residents.”
“Do you change the locks after a resident moves out?”
“No, we just get the key back.”
“Easy enough then to make a copy before giving a key back.” I hated to point this out, but it could be relevant.
“No, the keys are inscribed with DO NOT DUPLICATE. You have to give a special code to get it recut.”
Not easy to reproduce, but not impossible, I thought. “What about Ross. Does he have one?”
“No, he doesn’t need one.”
“The Templetons?”
“They have a key to the coal chute door in the basement. They go in and out to leave veg and pick up supplies for their other clients.”
“Are the doors usually kept locked?”
“Yes. We’re extremely careful about that. There’s even a lock on the door between the basement and the kitchen. We want the girls to feel safe here.” Amanda was watching me expectantly, as if she thought I might suddenly pull a rabbit out of a hat.
“The door to the cellar wasn’t locked the morning after Sheila disappeared when we went down,” I pointed out. If the door wasn’t locked, Sheila must have opened it herself to go down.
Amanda’s response was overshadowed by a loud knock on the front door. She scurried off to answer it and came back with a young woman in a nurse’s uniform.
“Abi, this is Jenny’s friend Beth,” Amanda explained. “You gave me her name, but she called yesterday before I even had a chance to reach out to her.”
I turned to Beth and offered the empty, but ubiquitous, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Her big brown eyes filled with tears.
“I couldn’t believe it when I saw it in the paper,” Beth said softly. “I tried to talk to her mum but she cut me off. Gave me the number here. I was hoping you’d know something about the funeral arrangements.”
“We haven’t been able to make any yet,” Amanda said. “The police are still trying to—”
I intervened to spin the conversation away from the grim realities of the postmortem investigations. “How long had you and Jenny been friends?”
“We both worked for the same home health service when we came out of school. Been nearly six years now. We went on to other jobs since but we stayed in touch.”
“Had you heard much from Jenny recently?”
“She dropped off the map after she finally made up her mind to walk out on Rob. Stopped posting and such. I was worried about her, thinking maybe something bad had happened.” Beth pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands. “She was okay at that point. She got in touch with me again after about four weeks and told me she’d switched her social media to another name and we got back into sync.”
“Did she sound happy?”
“She was scared but determined. I was so proud of her for standing up and walking out. It’s not easy, you know. Especially with a bloke like that who thinks he’s God’s gift to the planet and has every right to treat his wife like dirt.”
“Did she say if she’d heard from her husband lately?”
“He’s military. She told me he was off on a training course in Spain for three months. That was part of the reason that she was feeling stronger and more in control of her life. We all worried what would happen when he got back, but I guess that’s not a problem now,” Beth said sadly.
“Had she said anything to you about her future plans? What she was going to do next?”
“Well, she was interviewing for a full-time job.”
“With Manorcare?”
“Aye, that was one of them. I worked with Manorcare in Stirling for a bit and our friend Margie works for their facility in Glasgow. She suggested that Jenny come out and interview. They’re always looking for reliable caregivers.”
“So she was interviewing in Glasgow?”
“She went out there to meet with the head of personnel, but they tried to talk her into taking a position at the new facility they’re opening here.”
“In Edinburgh?”
Beth nodded. “But like I said, Jenny was interested in moving away. Especially as this place would be closing.”
“Closing?” Amanda interjected. “Why would she think we were closing?”
Beth suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Jenny was told the new Manorcare facility was taking over this building.”
“This building?” Amanda looked at Beth in amazement.
“Jenny was shocked, too. That’s why I figured she would’ve told you. She didn’t even know that this place was closing. But the renovation plans were on the wall in the Manorcare offices in Glasgow clear as day. Jenny noticed it special ’cause it was this address.”
Amanda sat back from the table, looking stunned. “That bastard committed this building before he even ran it past the board.” She shook her head as if trying to get the words to sink in.
“Did Jenny say when they were hoping to open?” I asked Beth.
“She said they made her a job offer starting next month.”
“Do you know if Jenny told anyone else about Manorcare?”
“I don’t know,” Beth replied, looking at Amanda. “She told me she was going to talk to a friend who might be able to help. Maybe she just didn’t manage to before…” Beth trailed off and dabbed her eyes with a tissue.
“Did she say who she was going to talk to?” I asked.
“No. Just a friend.”
“When did she go for the interview?”
“Let’s see, it was the same day I went to the dentist last week, must have been Friday.”
Four days before Jenny was found dead. She’d known for four days and hadn’t told Amanda. Maybe she’d decided it was too late. Maybe she didn’t want to be blamed for rocking the boat, but more likely she’d told Sheila. All the girls confided in Sheila. Had Sheila confronted Urquhart with this information? Had she threatened to expose him to his fellow board members?
Beth went on to reminisce about Jenny and eventually Amanda and I escorted Beth upstairs to Jenny’s room. Her mother had refused to come and take any of the dead girl’s belongings, so between us we helped Beth sort through Jenny’s meager possessions and pack them into boxes.
When we’d finished, Beth ran her hand lightly over the top of the carton she was holding. “It seems such a sad way to end, and so little to show for a life. Margie and I’ll keep a few mementos, but the rest will have to go to charity, I suppose.”
We saw Beth out the front door and Amanda slumped against the doorframe, the tears she’d been holding in check sliding down her cheeks.
“I can’t believe Urquhart would do this. He’s a smarmy bugger, but why didn’t Jenny tell me what was happening? What am I saying? I know why she didn’t. She told Sheila instead, and Sheila tried to address the problem head-on like she always did.” Amanda took a deep, shuddering breath.
Neither of us said aloud that Sheila might have ended up paying with her life for her boldness. This was information that simply had to be shared with the police.
“I’m so sorry everything seems to be crashing down at once.” I followed Amanda back into her office. She flopped into the chair at the desk and gestured to a folding chair in the corner, waving her hand as if to evaporate the stack of papers already sitting on it. I picked up the pile and moved it to the top of a file cabinet before perching uncomfortably on the metal chair.
“On top of everything else, Lila Ross called in a rage this morning,” Amanda said. “The police had been there and searched the house top to bottom before taking Duncan down to the station to question him.”
“At least they are aggressively pursuing Jenny’s case.”
Amanda ignored the hint. “Lila, of course, could care less about Duncan. She was focused on the negative press and how it would tarnish the family name. When she’d calmed down a bit, she hinted that the Ross family might see fit to substantially increase their donations to the shelter if it turned out that Jenny was lying. She implied that some of the other girls might have a ‘clearer’ view of what happened,” Amanda said bitterly.
“What did you say?”
“What can you say to someone like that? I told her I had no control over what the girls said and, besides, they’d all already spoken to the police.”
“Bet that went down well.”
Amanda sighed. “She called me a few very unladylike names and slammed the phone down in my ear.”
“Does Ross have a solicitor?” I asked.
“Who else?” Amanda shook her head. “Richard Urquhart.”
I was struck once more by how closely the board was enmeshed in each other’s lives. Tied together by secrets and lies that ultimately gave Ross and Urquhart considerable leverage over each other. Could Ross have killed Jenny at Urquhart’s request because she was interfering in his shady business dealings? Had Urquhart had Sheila killed because she challenged him on the Manorcare deal? Had Ross killed Sheila because she threatened to expose what he was doing to the girls? Too many options and too little information.
“You have to admit the authorities are making progress in their investigations. They need to know this information and they need to know about the ransom note.”
“No,” Amanda snapped. “We follow the instructions. Period.”
“Okay, okay.” I raised my hands in resignation. “Are you expecting Sam today?”
“He was supposed to be here first thing this morning, but he didn’t show.”
“Right, I have a few personal matters to take care of this morning,” I said vaguely, “but I can stop back later this afternoon. If he’s here, I’ll try to talk to him. After that we should get Nora up to Balfour and get her settled in. Maybe we can do a swap. Do you think you could find room at the Rest for one more guest?”
“There’s Jenny’s room,” Amanda said doubtfully. “It’s almost ready.”
“Actually, that would be perfect. I have a young woman who works for me and I’m going to send her over here to pose as a new resident. I’m thinking she may be able to do a better job than we can at getting the girls to share information.” I rose to go and followed Amanda out the door, quietly slipping the ransom note and the envelope it arrived in into my pocket.
I wanted to share in Amanda’s belief that a ransom request might mean that Sheila was still alive, but I wasn’t optimistic. We had twenty-four hours to wait for instructions. That was twenty-four hours to find Sheila, or twenty-four hours for a killer to cover his tracks. Either way, I needed professional help—now.