39

 

Sam, his left arm still in the sling, was awkwardly assembling the sign-in booth for the lobster boat races. I started toward him, knowing my help was better than no help, and remembered another job he might appreciate more. Finding him a helper for the fireworks.

Josh leaned against the curling club’s wall, sucking lime green slushy up a straw, as he ogled a cluster of giggling girls. Their uber-tight shorts drew more eyes than his.

Black Hair and his pickup were nowhere to be seen.

I shouted Josh’s name several times before getting his attention and waved him over.

“You just missed him,” Josh said.

“What did you find out?”

Geoff sneaked up behind me and covered my eyes. I knew it was him, of course. I always knew when Geoff was near. But I played along, feeling his hands, making ridiculous guesses like, “Brad, is that you?” Meaning Brad Pitt.

He ignored that. “What are you two up to?”

“Gai had me follow some guy to find out his name.”

“What guy? What name?”

“Black Hair. He was watching your apartment.”

Geoff’s eyes became distant. “My place? You’re sure? Why would he do that?”

I didn’t know, and I didn’t like it. “I caught him on Dunmaglass’s security. Dropped his picture and his cigarette butt at the police station. Josh got his license number. I gave them that, too. The rest is up to Andrew and LeClerc.”

“You’re determined to find out who he is.”

“He’s suspicious. Creeping around, watching people—what if he’s who I saw watching Hunter Hall during the storm? What if he’s Claude’s killer?”

“Slow down.”

I couldn’t. I was on a roll. “We know Josh didn’t do it. I have the sinking feeling Danny-Boy isn’t guilty, either. Which means Claude’s killer is still at large. And there is no denying Black Hair is mighty suspicious.”

Geoff shook his head when I said the sinking feeling. He was not happy with my attitude. “So Black Hair’s your next candidate?”

“Doesn’t it scare you that he’s watching people?” I glanced around making sure no one else was close enough to hear. “I think I may know who he is.”

“Who?” asked Josh.

“The jewel thief they keeping talking about in the news.”

When Geoff pinched the bridge of his nose like that, I knew he was trying to give me the benefit of the doubt. And not laugh. “In Hum Harbour?”

“What better place to lay low? He decided to attend Claude’s funeral because there wasn’t much else to do, and while he was there, he spotted Carrie’s necklace.”

“Claude was already dead by then. Kind of late to murder him, don’t you think?”

“OK Mr. Wise-Guy, when do you think he stole Carrie’s necklace?”

“Someone stole Carrie’s fancy necklace?” Josh interrupted.

Geoff said, “Apart from a minor detail like, a jewel thief wouldn’t need Mr. Piteaux to appraise Carrie’s necklace, who would ever come to Hum Harbour if they weren’t related to someone here?”

“But if he was here lying low and just happened to see Carrie and her necklace?”

He looked at me.

“He could’ve sneaked into Hunter Hall to steal it, but Claude caught him, so he clobbered Claude with the closest thing on hand, Carrie’s frog candlestick.”

“Then he hung around town long enough to switch her necklace with a duplicate he had made. No wait, he had to’ve had the duplicate on hand when he broke in, otherwise she’d have alerted police that it was missing, too.”

I flipped my ponytail over my shoulder.

“Then he went into her house again and confronted her with his crime, ripping the fake necklace from her neck.”

“You’ve made your point,” I said testily. “If Black Hair swapped Carrie’s real necklace with a fake he’d never have hung around.”

Josh noisily drained his slushie. “What if he broke into Hunter Hall planning to steal the real one, but when he saw it was fake he, like, hung around, for a second chance to search the house.” He tossed his empty into a nearby trash can. “Wait a minute. Did you say it’s fake?”

“Except, he searched the house during Claude’s reception. He still didn’t find the real one, and that’s why he came back a third time and argued with Carrie.”

“What about Claude?”

“It was like I said, Claude caught him the first time he broke in, so he bonked Claude, never thinking he’d killed him, and escaped to try again.”

“It fits,” said Josh.

Geoff shook his head. “I don’t believe this.”

“It makes perfect sense—except for why he was watching you. We need to talk to Andrew about that.”

“No,” Geoff said.

“If Claude’s killer is spying on you—”

“You’re way off base, Gai. Give it a rest.” The warning in his eyes silenced any further argument.

I turned my back on Geoff, who obviously did not appreciate my genius, and changed the subject. “Josh, how would you like to help Sam with the fireworks tomorrow night?”

“Are you, like, serious?”

“I’m always, like, serious.”

“Like,” said Geoff, “a word used to introduce a simile, the comparison to two different things.”

I said to Josh, “There’s Sam. Run over and see what he needs you to do.”

Geoff dropped his arm around my shoulders. “One of these days people are going to believe you mean the outrageous things you say.”

“You don’t?”

“Believe that guy you call Black Hair is a murderer and jewel thief? Not in the slightest.”