Competition Can Be Murder Read online

  We followed her through the library and drawing room, down a short corridor and past the hall. Carved double doors stood open into a dining room that surprised me with its intimacy. An oval cherry table was set for four, with a centerpiece of roses in a silver bowl in the center, two pink tapers in silver candlesticks flanking the flowers. The room itself was not large, about fourteen feet square, with gleaming wood paneling and an angelic mural painted on the ceiling in pastels.

  “This is the family dining room,” Sarah said, reading my expression. “It’s the one we use nearly all the time. There’s a formal dining room, but it’s a monstrosity.”

  Robert sputtered.

  “You know what I mean, dear,” she said, waving off his objection. “It’s huge. Must seat twenty-four or more. Can’t remember the last time we had that many for dinner.”

  “Right about that. Here, let’s sit.” Robert indicated our chairs, while Sarah rang a tiny silver bell beside her plate.

  The soup Molly brought was excellent, a hearty broth with bits of potato and mushrooms. No one spoke for the first few minutes.

  “So, Charlie,” Robert finally said, “any leads on those missing lambs?”

  I swallowed a spoonful of the hot soup a bit too quickly. “Well, not really. I don’t have any expertise in livestock.”

  “Oh, nonsense. What’s there to know? About like finding a missing child, I’d expect.” He winked in Drake’s direction and sipped slowly at his soup. “Check out that Ian Brodie fellow. Bet that’s where they’ve gone.”

  “Actually, I did go over there a couple of days ago,” I said.

  “See? Bet they were right there, eh?”

  “I have no idea. There are sheep and lambs all over the place. I can’t tell one from the other.”

  “Ours are tagged. Do ’em right after they’re born. Little tag on the ear.”

  “I didn’t see any tagged ones,” I said truthfully.

  “Hmph. Probably got ’em hidden somewhere.” He muttered the words to his empty bowl.

  I didn’t mention the path I’d found through the forest. Undoubtedly, Robert must know that there was a direct way from the castle to the Brodie cottage. I didn’t need to remind him.

  “There’s pheasant tonight,” Sarah said, ringing the tiny bell again. “From right here on the estate. Our daughter’s become such an environmentalist that she lectures me every time we kill one, but heaven’s, we’ve got thousands. Can’t see that it hurts to eat one now and then.”

  “Elizabeth’s a twit,” Robert said. “Couldn’t manage an estate this size if you handed it to her.”

  “Elizabeth is very successful at managing her many charity events.” Sarah closed her mouth in a straight line as Molly walked in, carrying a platter with the golden-brown pheasant on it. Molly set the platter in front of Robert and retreated.

  He stood up and picked up the carving knife and fork. “Charity events, pah!” He stabbed the fork into the pheasant’s breast. “Get a bunch of Edward’s nouveau-riche friends to feel important by paying a thousand pounds each for dinner. She manages to do that, all right.”

  He sliced viciously at the bird. “Just hope Richie turns out to have some business sense.”

  “Well.” Sarah closed the subject by passing the bowls of potatoes and vegetables Molly had brought in during Robert’s tirade.

  Drake looked a little uncomfortable at their arguing but I, frankly, was glad the subject had turned away from my assignment to find the lost lambs. I searched for a non-controversial topic.

  “Drake and I have been getting to see quite a lot of the countryside with all the flying we’re doing these days.”

  Both Sarah and Robert seemed happy to talk about something different, so the conversation turned toward helicopters. Soon, Drake was sharing a few of his adventures in Hawaii, with tourists who invariably do predictable things like sticking their cameras out the windows in flight, immediately after being told how dangerous it is.

  By the time dessert arrived the air had lightened considerably and we were all laughing. The two bottles of wine with dinner and extra glasses of port afterward probably hadn’t hurt, either. I was surprised to notice that it was nearly ten o’clock. Then I heard a scream from another room.

  Chapter 14

  Sarah turned startled eyes to Robert. We’d all frozen in our spots.

  Molly burst through the doorway from the hall, her round face flushed, carrying a portable phone. She thrust it at Robert. Puzzled, he took it from her.

  “Hello? Who’s that?” The blood drained from his face as he listened. “Kidnapped! Whatever—”

  He held the receiver out and stared at it.

  “Robert!” Sarah nearly screamed his name.

  He looked up blankly. “Bloody bastard hung up.” His voice trailed away.

  “What is it, Robert? Who’s been kidnapped?” I couldn’t stand the suspense any more than Sarah could.

  “Richie,” his dead voice replied.

  Drake had risen from his chair. “Any way of knowing who it was?” He took the receiver from Robert. “Do you have caller ID or something like that?”

  “No . . .” Robert looked like he was about to go into shock. His eyes had a glassy look and his lips were nearly white. Sarah’s pulse showed as a fluttery beat in her temple.

  “Listen to me, Robert,” I said. “Tell us exactly what they said.”

  “Said Richie’s been kidnapped.”

  I looked up at Drake. He clearly didn’t want two medical emergencies on his hands either. I stood up and went to Robert. I placed my hands on each side of his face, making him look directly into my eyes.

  “Okay, we need to get this before it fades away,” I told him. “First, was the voice a man or a woman?”

  “Man. I think it was. Deep. Lot of static, though.”

  Drake came up with a pen and small piece of paper from a pocket. I took them and prepared to write it all down. Chances were that Robert’s recollection would soon blur. Drake pulled his chair near Sarah’s and she gripped his hand.

  “Okay. A man’s voice. Now, tell me what he said. Exactly.”

  “He said, ‘I’m only sayin’ this once more. We’ve got Richie Campbell. If you want him back alive, you’ll pay fifty-thousand pounds.’ That’s all he said.”

  I looked at Molly, who was still hovering at the edge of the room. She nodded. “That’s right. He said that to me, too, ma’am.”

  Robert’s color had improved and he seemed to be more in control. Sarah was sobbing quietly, stilling clinging to Drake’s forearm.

  “Let’s all go somewhere more comfortable,” I said. “Molly, could you bring tea to the library?”

  “There’s a fire in the drawing room already,” she suggested.

  “Good. We’ll be in there.” I took Robert’s elbow and helped him up. Drake guided Sarah and we all went to the drawing room, where indeed a cozy fire and overstuffed chairs waited.

  “We should first call the police,” I said. “Then may—”

  “No! That’s the other thing the voice said. ‘Don’t call the police.’” Robert spun toward me. “We can’t do that.”

  “But it only makes sense,” I said. “They know how to handle these situations. We don’t.”

  “Charlie, you can investigate it,” Sarah said. Her eyes were too eager.

  “Sarah, Robert, please don’t put this on me. Richie’s life is at stake and I don’t want to be responsible. And what about the other two boys. Lewis and Alasdair haven’t turned up either.”

  “Let’s all sit down,” Drake said. “Maybe we can think of something.”

  Molly came in with a tray holding a silver tea service, delicate porcelain cups and saucers, and pots of sugar and cream.

  “Stay a minute, Molly,” I said. “You heard the voice too. Did either of you recognize it? Take a minute and think very hard. Have you ever heard that voice before?”

  “It sounded like that American actor, Robert DeNiro,” Molly said.
<
br />   A tiny smile flickered across Sarah’s face.

  “Um… I don’t think Robert DeNiro kidnapped Richie.” I looked at her hopeful face. “But thanks for offering that, Molly. Every detail helps.”

  “I can’t place the voice,” Robert said. “It sounded like someone trying to disguise his voice. You know, make himself sound more gruff.”

  I tried to visualize DeNiro’s soft voice sounding gruff. It didn’t give me much to go on.

  “We better call Elizabeth and Edward,” Sarah said. “They’ll be worried sick.”

  “They’ll be asleep,” Robert said. “It’s going on eleven.”

  “True, they don’t know anything’s happened yet.” I wasn’t sure the best way to handle this.

  Sarah straightened in her chair. “If my child were missing, I’d want to know it immediately. Elizabeth will be very angry if she learns this hours after the fact.”

  I nodded and Drake handed her the phone.

  After what must have been at least five or six rings, someone picked up. “Edward,” Sarah began, “I’m afraid . . .” Her voice broke and a sob escaped.

  “I’d better—” Robert snatched up the receiver. “Edward. Well, not good, I’m afraid. Richie’s missing.”

  I noticed that he took the more gentle way of saying it.

  “No, there’s been a call. We just learned of it. No, they said no police.”

  I could hear a demanding voice coming through the phone.

  “Look, no sense in driving through the night. Take the first train in the morning. Someone will pick you up.” He listened for a minute. “All right, then, the airport. Seven-thirty? Hold a second.” He put his hand over the mouthpiece and turned to Drake. “Could you meet their plane and fly them out here in your helicopter, by chance?”

  “I’ll have to rearrange some things, but yes. Tell him one of us will be there.”

  Robert turned back to his call and Drake and I hastily conferred about our flight schedule for the next morning.

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Drake said, the minute Robert clicked off the call. “I have to meet some people out on one of the rigs early. So Charlie will take the JetRanger and meet Edward’s flight. She can have them here within five minutes.”

  “Tonight, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to look through Richie’s bedroom. See if I can spot anything that would give us any ideas.”

  Robert and Sarah both looked relieved that someone was taking charge.

  I set my cup and saucer on the tray. “Earlier today, Sarah, you said the boys were going out tonight. Do you know where?”

  Her smooth brow wrinkled in thought. “A club in Inverness. I can’t remember if they told me the name of it. Surely they did, but I can’t think of it.”

  She turned to Robert, looking helplessly at him. He shrugged. “Don’t know as they ever mentioned it me,” he said. “Then again, I’ve been in Edinburgh the past couple of days. Didn’t keep up with the boys much.”

  “There is a girl Richie’s been seeing in Inverness,” Sarah said. “Janie . . . Janie something . . . Oh, rats, why can’t I remember it.” She looked ready to cry.

  “Don’t worry about it for now,” I said. “Maybe I’ll come across it in his room. Show me the way?”

  Robert stepped forward.

  “I still think this is a police matter,” I said.

  They both flinched.

  “Please consider it.” I tried for a gentler tone. “I feel very inadequate here. I might overlook something important.”

  “For now, Charlie, this is what we should do. We should find out what their demands are and try to get Richie back ourselves.” The firmness in Robert’s voice left no room for argument. I followed him up the stairs.

  Richie’s bedroom looked like just about any other teen’s room I could imagine—if that kid lived in a castle. Beneath the scatter of dirty clothing and rock music magazines was a room with high ceilings, elaborate crown moldings, a fireplace, and an oriental carpet that must be priceless. The décor was clearly guest-room—twin beds with flowered spreads (now puddled haphazardly, half on and half off), good antiques, and filmy drapes. A third bed had been set up and things shuffled a bit to accommodate the three boys. My guess was that Richie had no permanently assigned bedroom here, just chose one whenever he came to visit the grandparents.

  I picked through the visible clutter, not finding anything notable, then delved under the mattresses and into the bedding. A baggie of marijuana in the pillow case of the third bed probably meant that one of the visitors had brought the stash for all of them. My guess would be Alasdair. He’d seemed the more defensive toward me earlier, but you never knew.

  A feminine dressing table with all the decorative items shoved to one side contained an assortment of boy-clutter. A Walkman CD player, stacks of music CDs by heavy metal groups, a car magazine, and a handful of pocket junk—coins, a shiny rock, some lint, and a wrapped condom. This last lay covered by the magazine, not readily apparent had Grandma peeked into the room.

  Jammed into the pages of the magazine, an envelope peeked out. I pulled it free. There was nothing inside but the envelope itself was interesting. The paper was wispy lavender, scented with some cloying perfume, addressed to Richie at school. The return address was from Janie Grahame, with an Inverness address. We now knew where to find the mysterious Janie.

  I kept the envelope and turned my attention back to the rest of the room. At the foot of the temporary bed lay a large green duffle bag, the floppy kind you see traveling kids wrestling with in airports. Its contents revealed nothing more than wadded clothing with a dirt-caked pair of boots in the midst. A large backpack stood propped against a delicate inlaid table. I pulled it over to one of the beds and went through it, too, with about the same results. I couldn’t put my finger on it but something was out of place.

  I wondered where the two other boys were right now. Had their families also received ransom calls? Were they witness to Richie’s abduction and talking to the police now? The questions just kept coming.

  Chapter 15

  I scanned the room one more time, lifted bed skirts to look under. The room had no closet, and the large armoire was completely empty. The lavender envelope crinkled in my hand. How deeply was Richie involved with this girl? Did Janie Grahame have something to do with this?

  “Sorry to disturb, Charlie.”

  I must have jumped because Robert apologized a second time.

  “It’s okay. Sorry I’ve been taking so long.”

  “Just wanted to let you know that Sarah remembered that girl’s name. Janie Grahame, it is.”

  “I just discovered that,” I said. I showed him the envelope.

  “Ah, and an address too. You are a fine detective.” He managed a smile.

  “When the boys arrived, did they each have their own bags?”

  “Hmm . . . I assume so.” His eyes darted around the room, puzzled.

  “I’m only finding two in here.”

  “Ah, well, I remember Sarah saying last week that the boys were taking an overnight jaunt to see another friend in Fort Augustus. That’s at the tip end of Loch Ness. Probably stuffed a few things into someone’s bag and took it.”

  “But they would have brought it back.”

  “Probably still in the boot. Boys never bring things in and put them away.” He shrugged.

  That was probably true. “Did anyone remember the name of the club where the boys went tonight?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “I think we should call Janie’s family and see if they know. Shall we see if there’s a phone listing for them?”

  We trooped back down to the drawing room, where Sarah paced and Drake concealed a yawn. I patted him on the shoulder. “One more thing tonight, and then we’ll get you to bed.”

  “Oh, yes, certainly,” Sarah said. “You’ve both got to fly in the morning and we’re keeping you up awfully late.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know a phone number for Janie Gra
hame, would you?” I showed Sarah the envelope I’d found.

  “No, but let’s check the directory.” She headed toward the library and came back in a couple of minutes. “Here, let’s see . . .”

  Robert stood by with the phone in hand. He punched the numbers as she read them out. I jotted them on the back of the lavender envelope as well.

  Again, he waited as the ringing telephone woke up another sleeping family. Finally, someone picked up. “Hello, is that Mr. Grahame? Uh, Hugh Grahame?” He introduced himself and explained that we were trying to learn Richie’s whereabouts earlier this evening.

  “Did your daughter go out with Richie last night?” Robert asked. “Is it possible to bring her to the phone? We’ve got an American private detective on the case .. .”

  Oh, god.

  “. . . and she’d like to ask Janie some questions.”

  There seemed to be a bit of arguing back and forth, followed by a five-minute wait while Robert held the phone. “He’s going to get her,” he stage-whispered to the room.

  “Ah! Janie, dear, did your father tell you, this is Richie’s grandfather calling?” He nodded twice. “I’m going to put a lady on to talk to you.”

  “Janie, hi. My name’s Charlie. We need to find Richie, and no one remembers the name of that club he and his friends were going to tonight. Can you help me?”

  A teen girl voice came through, fuzzy and nasal sounding. “Em . . . Richie? It’s about Richie?”

  “Yes, Janie. Did you go out with him to a club tonight?”

  “Uh, no. I didn’t go out tonight.” I thought I heard her rubbing a hand over her face. “I think Richie and some friends were going out. Two guys from his school.”

  “Yes, that would be right. Lewis and Alasdair are their names.”

  “Yes, I think so.” Her voice was slowly becoming more alert.

  “So, do you know what club they went to?”

  “Club? It could’ve been Mike’s. We go there sometimes.” She sounded genuinely confused.

  “Mike’s.” I said. Sarah shook her head, mouthing I don’t think so.

  “Any others?” I asked.