Judith Alguire - Rudley 04 - Peril at the Pleasant (16 page)

“That’s about the size of it.”

“How’s the bullfrog?”

“He’s okay. They soft mouthed him.”

“What now?” Brisbois asked.

“I can try to pick up a scent around the lake and in the islands. It’ll take time. Do you have any ideas about narrowing the search?”

“They ran away or they were abducted.” Brisbois shrugged. “They left last night after everybody was asleep or they left this morning before anybody was awake. There aren’t any boats missing. They could have gone left or they could have gone right. They could be a couple of miles away or they could be halfway to Toronto or heading for the St. Lawrence.” He shook his head. “The best I can think of is that you move out from here and see what you can find. If they transferred the kids from a boat to a car they probably wouldn’t do it near any of the cottages.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Corrigan gathered up the leashes.

Brisbois watched the handler and the dogs retreat. “I can’t see someone abducting them from the Pleasant.”

“The tracks end at the lake.”

“Maybe the dogs were confused.”

Creighton laughed. “Hungry too. That big bullfrog would have been a nice snack.”

“Do they have a habit of running away?” Brisbois faced Doreen and Walter Sawchuck across the desk in Rudley’s office.

Walter looked at Doreen. “They’ve done that once or twice. Most kids run away from home once in a while.”

“How far do they usually get?”

“As far as the mall.”

“Where would this mall be?”

“Ithaca, New York,” said Walter.

“Not far from us in Rochester,” said Doreen.

“Not far enough,” Walter muttered.

“That bad?”

“Walter doesn’t like our son-in-law,” said Doreen.

“He’s a hippie,” said Walter. “That’s why the kids are such brats.”

“Now, Walter.”

“He has no sense of responsibility,” Walter went on. “Running off to Europe like a teenager with a backpack.”

“And they left the children in your care,” said Brisbois.

“They left them at the Pleasant,” said Walter.

Brisbois raised his brows. “Do you think Rudley saw it that way? Perhaps he thought you would be responsible for the children.”

Walter gave him a puzzled frown. “The staff here looks after everything. Always has.”

“Must be rotten kids if their own grandparents don’t like them,” Creighton murmured as he and Brisbois stepped onto the veranda where Mr. Bole and Aunt Pearl were enjoying a drink.

“Good to see you, Detectives,” Mr. Bole said, rising and offering his hand. “After Semple, you’re a relief.”

“He was doing his Columbo act,” said Aunt Pearl.

“Some of his questions were a bit…obtuse,” Mr. Bole clarified.

Brisbois smiled. “He hasn’t taken the advanced course on conducting interviews.”

“Shows,” said Aunt Pearl.

Mr. Bole hesitated before resuming his seat. “I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you that I haven’t told Officer Semple. I last saw the children yesterday morning when I was leaving the dining room. I have no idea about the circumstances of their departure.” He shrugged. “They were obnoxious, poorly raised, mean-spirited little trolls, but I wouldn’t want any harm to come to them.”

“Bad for business,” said Aunt Pearl, drawing Brisbois’ attention.

“Do you have anything to add to your previous statement?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “As I told Officer Semple, I slept the whole night. Well, I might have been awake for a few seconds. I remember the dock light in my eyes. If I knew anything I’d tell you. Like Mr. Bole, I wouldn’t want any harm to come to them. One of them might grow up to discover the cure for the common cold.”

“Did either of you happen to meet the parents?”

They shook their heads.

“They were here only long enough to dump the kids and run,” said Pearl.

“I was on the veranda when they arrived,” Mr. Bole said. “The only impression I got was that they were in a hurry.”

Brisbois flipped through his notebook. “What about this Mr. Bostock? Did he ever voice any opinion about the kids?”

Mr. Bole looked surprised. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had a word with him.”

“He’s a dull fellow,” added Pearl. “Not a social type at all. If you say good morning, he acts as if you’ve imposed. We’ve never had anyone like him before.”

“Strange guy?”

Mr. Bole nodded. “We’ve had quiet types, even recluses, but never anyone who’s been so publicly rude.”

“Except Rudley,” said Pearl, “and we’re used to him.”

“Did he have anything to do with the kids?”

“Not that I witnessed,” said Mr. Bole.

“I think he held us all in equal disdain,” said Pearl.

·

“I can’t wait to interview Mr. Bostock,” said Creighton. “Sounds as if he has the personality of an ox.”

“Oxen have nice personalities,” Brisbois said, glancing at his notes. “What cabin in this guy in?”

“The Pines.”

Mr. Bostock answered the door on the first knock. He glared at them. “Yes?”

“I’m glad I caught you, Mr. Bostock,” Brisbois said after introducing himself and Creighton. “They tell me you’re usually out on the lake.”

“Yes.”

“I imagine you know why we’re here.”

“No.”

“We’re investigating the disappearance of Ned and Nora Danby.”

“I gave my statement to the officer.”

“I know. We’re following up.”

“All right, but I don’t know anything about it.”

“When did you last see the kids?”

“The day before yesterday. Well, I suppose it was Ned and Nora, unless there are other children here. I was never introduced to them.”

“Where did you see them?”

“Walking the dog across the lawn.”

“Did you talk to them?”

Bostock squinted. “No. Why would I?”

“Well, they’re kids. You’re a teacher.”

“I teach cabinetmaking to high school shop students and adults at night school. Besides, they were halfway across the lawn.”

Brisbois glanced at his notes. “Mr. Bostock, you’ve been seen out on the lake in various disguises.”

“Is that illegal?”

“No, but in a criminal investigation anything unusual tends to get our antennae up.”

“I can see that.”

“Any reason why you’d go out on the lake in different getups?”

Bostock eyed him a moment, then shrugged. “I’m interested in architecture. There are some interesting places around the lake. I like to study them in detail, sometimes over a few days. People might get strange ideas if they see the same guy staring at their places day after day. So,” he finished, “I figure with the disguises they might not realize it was the same guy.”

Brisbois raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”

“Yes.” Bostock blinked, then added, “Besides, it amuses me.”

·

“Maybe we should try dressing up,” Creighton remarked as they left the Pines. “We could stand to be amused.”

“Next,” Brisbois barked.

They stopped at the Elm Pavilion and knocked at the door. The sisters didn’t answer until the third knock. When he heard a chorus of “come ins,” he tried the door. It was unlocked.

The sisters were watching
Rear Window
. Kate pushed the pause button.

“Detective Brisbois.”

“Ladies.” He removed his hat. “Did you know your door was unlocked?”

“We unlocked it after Tiffany left,” said Emma.

“We don’t like our door locked,” said Kate.

“We could all die and no one would find us for hours,” Louise said.

Brisbois frowned. “I’d advise you to be especially careful right now. We have a criminal on the loose. Perhaps in the vicinity.”

“Please sit down, Detectives,” said Kate.

“Would you care for some coffee?” Louise asked. “And a piece of cake?”

“That would be nice.” Brisbois took the chair opposite the sofa. Creighton chose one by the window. Emma bustled into the kitchen.

“It’s Gregoire’s special red velvet cake,” she said, returning with a laden tray.

“Looks delicious.”

“Are you enjoying your stay?” Louise asked, as she cut slices for the detectives.

Brisbois smiled. “As always, Miss Benson.”

“The detectives aren’t enjoying their stay, Louise,” Emma corrected as she poured coffee. “They’re engaged in an investigation.”

Brisbois took a bite of cake and nodded his approval. He set the plate aside and took a sip of coffee. “That’s right. We’re investigating the disappearance of the twins.”

“We’ve already answered a lot of questions,” Kate said.

“When you were here before,” Louise added.

“Oh, Louise,” said Emma, “that wasn’t Detective Brisbois.” She turned to Brisbois and whispered, “Louise is always in a fog when she watches Jimmy Stewart.” To Louise she said, “That was Officer Semple who interviewed us before.”

“Officer Semple?” said Louise. “Did he break anything this time?”

“He tipped over a vase on the way out,” said Emma. “It wasn’t broken, however.”

“Officer Semple is a bit uncoordinated,” said Kate.

He’s a bit something, Brisbois thought. He settled back in his chair and turned a page in his notebook. “I promise not to keep you from your movie long. I just wanted to follow up on a few things.”

“Of course.” Emma drew up a chair and sat down emphatically. “Go ahead.”

“We have nothing to hide,” Louise declared. She looked hopefully at the set where Jimmy Stewart sat frozen in his wheelchair, mouth agape.

Brisbois smiled at the sisters. “They told me you took a special interest in the children, Ned and Nora.”

Kate nodded eagerly. “Oh, they’re great kids. They come here almost every day.”

“Do you remember when you last saw them?”

Louise looked at her sisters. “It was at lunch yesterday, wasn’t it?”

Emma made an impatient gesture with her hand. “No, it wasn’t yesterday, Louise. It was the day before.” She turned to Brisbois. “Lloyd took them into town yesterday, according to Tiffany.”

“For a boat ride,” said Kate.

“To get them out of Gregoire’s hair,” said Louise. “That’s what Tim said.”

“Young people don’t have much patience with children,” said Kate.

Brisbois cleared his throat. “So you got on fine with the children, but others didn’t.”

Emma got up, went over to a cut-glass decanter, and poured three glasses of sherry. “Detectives?”

Brisbois and Creighton shook their heads. “No thank you,” Brisbois answered. “On duty.”

Emma nodded, restoppered the sherry, and placed the tray with the glasses on the coffee table. “What you have to understand, Detective,” she said, handing the sherry to her sisters, “is that the Pleasant isn’t the ideal place for children. The adults are generally preoccupied.”

“Or grumpy,” Kate said.

“And unaccustomed to dealing with children,” Emma continued, “especially energetic, high-spirited children like Nora and Ned.”

Brisbois made a pretense of reviewing his notes. “Pardon me, ladies, but I have numerous reports saying the children were rude, inconsiderate, and mean-spirited.”

“Nonsense,” said Kate, sipping at her sherry. “They’re just full of beans. Like we were when we were kids.”

“Daddy was with the diplomatic corps,” said Louise.

“In some inhospitable places,” added Emma.

“We had to make our own fun,” Kate explained.

“Sometimes we got reported to Father,” Louise giggled.

“We were high-spirited,” said Kate.

“Remember what we did in Bulgaria?” said Louise.

“I think it was in Yugoslavia,” said Kate.

“I think it was both,” Louise countered.

Emma raised a warning hand. “The detective doesn’t have time for reminiscences.”

“Not at the moment.” Brisbois smiled. “But I’d like to follow up on that later.” He took a moment to organize his notes. “So the kids came to watch movies and television.”

“And to play those interactive games,” said Kate. “We especially enjoy the boxing.”

“But not the blue movies,” said Emma.

Emma shook her head. “Blue movies aren’t appropriate for children.”

“You have a few of those?”

“Oh, yes,” said Kate. “We have
It Happened One Night, From Here to Eternity.
Very suggestive.”

Brisbois thought the children could see racier things on Main Street but said nothing. “Did the children ever say anything about feeling uncomfortable with anyone around here? Did they suggest there was anything that made them feel unsafe or….?”

“Creepy?” Emma supplied.

“There’s no one around here who’s creepy or unsafe,” Louise said, while Kate nodded agreement.

“Well, that’s good to know.” Brisbois turned a page and flattened his notebook. “Did the kids ever talk about running away?”

Kate laughed. “All children run away.”

“They didn’t talk about it,” said Emma.

“We never did,” said Louise. “Remember when we ended up in that back alley in Bombay and were almost bitten by a cobra?”

“Gives me the willies just thinking about it,” said Kate.

“I think it was some sort of duck,” said Emma.

Brisbois shook his head. “I’ll bet you gave your parents a few grey hairs.”

“No one here would hurt the children,” said Emma.

Brisbois glanced down at his notes. He was making a new entry when Kate said, “Say cheese, Detective.” He looked up to see a Polaroid camera aimed at him.

·

A few yards away from the Elm Pavilion, Brisbois sank down onto a bench. Creighton joined him.

“That was kind of like falling down a rabbit hole,” Creighton remarked.

Brisbois removed an envelope from his pocket. “Want to see my picture?” he asked, taking the Polaroid from the envelope.

Creighton looked at it and laughed. “Is that the original Polaroid film?”

Brisbois checked the back of the photo. “No, it’s a substitute. Fuji.” Brisbois returned the picture to his pocket. “What do you think about Bostock?”

“I think we should stop wasting our time on him.”

Brisbois nodded. “He’s not at the top of my list. He’s kind of a nut.” He lit a cigarette. “The kids’ scent ended at the dock but they were excellent swimmers so they probably didn’t fall in and drown. No word from the parents, by the way. I think Interpol has found members of Al-Qaeda faster than those parents.”

Creighton laughed. “That’s because Al-Qaeda’s not trying to outrun those kids.”