A lethal legacy, p.2
A Lethal Legacy, page 2
“Maybe it didn’t work for farming,” Kieran suggested. “You couldn’t eke out much of a living here—not at a time when you’d need to supply your own food.”
He glanced her way with a smile. “I’m going to assume that would be the main reason. The real reason, anyway.”
“And the other reason?”
“I’ll let Finn explain,” he told her, indicating the house.
A man had come to the front porch; he was tall, like Craig, and had the same dark burnished hair. At a distance, she might have even thought that he was Craig. His build was similar.
He had seen them, and he was waving madly.
Kieran knew that Finn was Jamie Douglas’s only son, heir to a tremendous fortune. But Craig had told her Jamie was no easy taskmaster. Finn was expected to work, and work hard. Jamie had inherited his money, but the family was a long line that had believed wealth brought great responsibility; while he didn’t publicize his deeds, Jamie Douglas was well known in certain circles as a great philanthropist.
Quiet seemed to suit the family. Kieran hadn’t known about Jamie and Finn until that morning when the call had come and their plans for the day had changed so drastically.
The dock led off to scruffy sand and grass. They crossed over it to a place where a gate remained—though most of the picket fence around it was broken or gone. The gate led to an old tile path and up to the house.
Finn Douglas came down the steps hurriedly to meet them.
Finn was a few years younger than Craig, Kieran figured. His jaw wasn’t quite as squared. Right now, his expression was anxious. And the man had been crying.
“Craig, thank you!” he said, clasping Craig’s hand in a frantic shake. “Thank you... I know this is unusual... I mean, the cops came. And Frank was down on the rocks...and that fall...well, he could have bounced his way down, but Craig...it was exactly the same as it was years ago...as legend has others...and, oh, God, he was my friend!”
“Hey, I’m here. We’ll find out what happened,” Craig told him.
Finn was looking at Kieran.
“I’m so sorry. You must be Kieran. I’m Finn... Finn Douglas. I guess you know that. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I had to call. I can’t... Come in, come in, please.” He caught her hand, holding it before him. It wasn’t a general invitation; he was asking her to become part of what had happened.
“Of course,” she murmured.
He released her hand and spoke as they started to the house. “I’ve got electric and water set up, and with satellites, well, you know we have phone service. No landline, of course, but cell phones do work better here than in Brooklyn, sometimes. The house is solid. I had a contractor and workmen out here. Nothing going yesterday or today. We got the power on and the water set up prior to that, and next week, I was going to start meetings and bring some help back out here, but right now...now that the cops and the forensic people have gone...it’s just me and Elayne and Margie. Margie... Oh, my God, she’s a mess. They gave her something...some paramedic or whatever... The medics didn’t believe me when I said that Frank was...that it was impossible that he could still be alive.”
The porch was broad and handsome. Heavy double doors—in serious need of sanding and varnishing—opened to a foyer. A stairway to the right as they entered led up to a hallway. The foyer, and the great room it entered, had remarkably high ceilings. The great room offered a massive hearth and long banquet-sized table, with high-backed wooden chairs surrounding it.
Whoever had built the place way back when had been wealthy; the hearth would have been the only way to heat the place when winter came, and it surely did so here with a vengeance.
“They’re in the white parlor, this way,” Finn said.
As they passed through a doorway to the left of the entry, Kieran saw why Finn had called it the white parlor. It was. White walls, white furniture...everything.
The Victorian furniture was covered in what appeared to be fine white velvet and linen. The side tables by the loveseats and wingback chairs were painted white. There was art on the walls: a painting of a white buffalo, and one of a musician playing a harp—and wearing a long sweeping white dress.
The only bit of real color seemed to be in the dresses worn by the two young women who rose when Finn led Craig and Kieran into the room.
Both had been crying. One was tall and dark-haired with a lean face, large dark eyes and a generous mouth. Her face was tear-stained, but her makeup hadn’t budged. The other was a tiny blonde, every bit as attractive. Her makeup had run, and black smudges rimmed her eyes.
“This is Elayne, my girlfriend,” Finn explained quickly, introducing the blonde. “Elayne Anderson. And this is Margie Appleby. Margie was...here with Frank.”
“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Kieran said, gently shaking hands with each.
“He was a wonderful man, a great friend,” Elayne said.
“I loved him,” Margie whispered.
“I told you,” Finn said to her. “Craig will find out what happened. He will get to the truth.” He turned and looked at Craig. “The cops are idiots.”
“Hey, I know some good cops,” Craig said quietly. “I work with a lot of the guys on the city force.”
“Yeah, well these guys...they think that Frank walked over the stone cliffs! Frank wasn’t a drinker. He wasn’t a fool. And he knew all the old stories that went with this place. He wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t have been walking that close to the cliff edge.”
“He might have been,” Margie said softly. “He...he...”
She started to sob softly, head lowered, hands to her face.
“Let’s all sit, shall we?” Finn asked.
Kieran watched Craig; he waited until the women were seated and then chose one of the wingback chairs, sitting toward the edge, his hands lightly folded, elbows resting on his knees.
“What were you going to say, Margie?” he asked her.
She shook her head softly. She looked up and over at Finn. “He was here for you, of course. He is...was...brilliant with plans and ideas and he wanted your resort to be a great success. But he told me that he was looking for the gold.” She was quiet just a minute and then added, “From the time we met, he was obsessed with the idea. In fact, it was part of one of our first conversations.” She went on sadly, “I guess telling me was his way of sounding adventurous and intelligent...and exciting, having the possibility of making a tremendous discovery—finding the gold.”
“The gold?” Craig pressed, a slight edge to his voice.
“About ten years ago,” Margie said softly, frowning as if surprised that he didn’t know, “there was a robbery. Safety-deposit boxes at a very exclusive bank. And the thieves were found on the cliffs, and they were found with nothing. They supposedly fell, too. But nothing was ever found of their haul.” Her voice took on a bitter edge. “So, the two bank robbers hid their stash—and fell over the cliff. Or another theory was that they were killed by other bank robbers. But none of the stolen bills or the jewelry ever showed up anywhere, and Frank thought it was still here. And there’s that ridiculous theory about the Ark of the Covenant going from the Holy Land to Europe and up to Scotland—and then across the ocean, ending up here. But Frank didn’t believe that the Ark existed—much less that it could have made its way to Douglas Island. The best thing about the legend, he always said, was the movie with Indiana Jones.”
“So he was searching out caves,” Craig asked.
“But he was found dead at the bottom of cliffs?” Kieran interjected.
“I didn’t know he was searching in the caves,” Finn said. “I wouldn’t have cared. I mean, my father owns the island, but he hates it. He said if I could make anything out of it, more power to me. I have carte blanche here—Frank could have told me.”
“I think he wanted to surprise you,” Margie said.
Elayne looked at Margie sadly.
“What would it matter if he was or wasn’t in the caves?” she asked Craig. “He was found...at the bottom of the cliffs.”
Craig sat back, glancing at Kieran.
“Finn doesn’t believe that Frank just fell,” he said. “And what he was actually doing might make all the difference.”
Margie shook her head, tears filling her eyes again. “Again, I ask—what difference does it make? Frank is dead. I don’t care what he’d been doing. And no matter what you do...you can’t bring him back.”
“No, I can’t bring him back,” Craig said.
And Kieran spoke up. “But he can give him justice.”
“Maybe the place is cursed, really cursed,” Elayne said. “I mean... I saw this thing on Egyptians and they cursed everyone. Maybe that stupid box was in Egypt before the Israelites fled their bondage and it was cursed...like, I mean, King Tut’s tomb had a curse on it, you know. And then there was something about the Templars!”
“The Knights Templar,” Kieran murmured, as Craig stared at her with a look that questioned the direction this was going and suggested that she jump in. “Many historians and armchair historians believed that the Knights Templar managed to save the Ark of the Covenant. They were persecuted, and Jacques de Molay and at least a hundred others were tortured and burned at the stake. Some think the knights had become too powerful—and far too rich—and some thought that the king of France at the time—and the pope—were horribly corrupt and afraid of losing power. Anyway, they supposedly saved the Ark, and there is an element that thinks it just might have come to the New World. But most historians believe that the Ark—if it does exist—is still in the Middle East. And... Craig was involved with a case involving an Egyptian discovery complete with curses...except it proved to be that someone very human was doing the evil deeds. No curse involved at all.”
Craig looked at Margie. “You said that Frank didn’t believe in any of the rumors about the Ark—or curses of any kind, I imagine.”
“He didn’t. But that doesn’t mean that this wretched island isn’t cursed!” Margie said.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I made you come here,” Finn said.
“I don’t believe in curses, and Margie, you’re hurting, but you can’t really believe in them, either. That area of the island is dangerous—it’s a horrible great cliff, with all kinds of jagged rock beneath. That’s the curse, if there really is one.” Elayne looked at Kieran and then Craig. “I don’t know how well you know this place. I don’t know it that well, but I looked it up when Finn planned on coming out here. I mean, it is a great spot. And a private island. But probably—and mainly because of the location—it’s hosted all kinds of vagabonds and thieves. Bad things happened in the very early days, from tribal battles through the various wars and pirates and...that’s why Finn’s dad hates the place. He would never sell it, but he wanted nothing to do with it.” She glanced at Finn. “Even Jamie says that curses are just ridiculous. And Margie is...horribly upset, of course.”
“I need a few facts,” Craig said. “Who found Frank?”
“I did,” Finn said dully. “We realized this morning that he hadn’t come back last night.”
“You didn’t realize it last night?” Craig asked, frowning—his look for Margie.
“He roamed the island late at night—and then, sometimes, Frank and Finn would be up all night, drawing plans,” Margie said. “I—I fell asleep. And when I woke up, I knew that he hadn’t been in bed.”
“She rushed out... Finn and I were at breakfast,” Elayne added.
“I got right up and started looking. There’s a large hill in the center of the island, but I thought that I’d try walking the perimeter first,” Frank said. “And then I found him, half in the water, half out, and caught between a few rocks on the shore there. I... I called the police right away.”
“And they came out this morning,” Craig said.
“They came right out. They were here for hours. And they...” Finn said, and then paused, shaking his head. “The medical examiner has the body, for an autopsy. But everyone thought he had ventured too close to the edge of the cliff. Frank didn’t just fall.”
“They brought out a forensic team, right?” Craig asked.
Finn nodded solemnly.
“Three boats—the medical examiner, the forensic team and four cops,” Elayne said.
“He’s gone! He’s really gone!” Margie sobbed softly. “Maybe we should just leave it. What does it matter in the end how he died?”
“She needs to mourn, Finn,” Elayne said. “This is so fresh.”
“Yes, it is. And you loved him, but he was my friend since we were kids,” Finn said. “I owe him this... I owe him everything I can give him, everything I can do for him.” He looked at Craig. “You can investigate, right?”
Craig winced. “Well, jurisdiction on this is really the NYPD. But I can ask my boss for help, and if the police on it are decent guys, they won’t think I’m wedging myself in on it. I’ll get the report, and I’ll reach out to some people.”
“Can you stay tonight?” Elayne asked anxiously. “Just tonight? Tomorrow, some of Finn’s household staff will be arriving. It won’t be so lonely.”
Craig was obviously startled. He looked over at Kieran. “We didn’t really bring anything...”
“Who cares what you’re wearing?” Margie asked. “And Finn has toothbrushes and toothpaste, brushes, soap...and we have anything you could need... Elayne, right?”
Craig was looking at Kieran. She knew that it was her call.
“I’m so scared!” Margie said.
“There are no curses!” Finn said firmly.
“Please, we need a professional on the island. Finn can hire some security tomorrow. Just tonight,” Margie said.
“It’s already dark,” Elayne whispered.
“We can stay tonight. Finn says cell phones work. I’ll just call the pub and let them know that we will be out here. Excuse me,” Kieran said.
“I’m going to have to get back first thing in the morning,” Craig said.
“Sunday?” Margie asked softly.
“If Frank was brought in tonight, the autopsy will be tomorrow. Every forensic office in the country does its best to autopsy the next day,” Craig explained. “And... I need to know just what happened to Frank.”
They were all silent for a minute.
Then Margie started to cry.
Kieran walked out to make her call. She left the very white White Room and headed out to the great hall area. She dialed Finnegan’s. Her brother Danny—the youngest in their family of four siblings—answered the phone.
She could hear the band playing and people laughing in the background on the other side of the telephone line.
“Finnegan’s,” Danny said cheerfully.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Cool. Are you headed here? What was Craig’s emergency? It wasn’t FBI—Egan and Mike and some other guys from his office are here.”
“No, long story, we’re on an island that belongs to a distant cousin of his, Finn Douglas. A friend of Finn’s died this morning.”
“What?” Danny asked. “My God—you’re out on Douglas Island?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh, you’ve got to get away from that place. It’s cursed.”
“Danny, you know that curses aren’t anything real. And the place has to have the most convoluted curse I’ve ever heard about.”
“Convoluted or not—people die on that rock like...like popcorn! Don’t you know all the history?”
“I know a lot of screwed-up stuff happened here, but Danny, what’s going on now is that Finn’s family—”
“Craig is related to the Douglas family that owns that island?”
“I didn’t know it either until today. Danny, we’re staying the night.”
“Don’t.”
“Oh, come on. I’m with Craig. We’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
“Let me guess. His friend is broken to bits—and he was found on the eastern shore off the rock cliff.”
Kieran was silent for a minute, frowning. But of course, everyone knew about the bank robbers who had died.
“Yes, actually.”
“You’d better be in to see me first thing in the morning. I’ll tell you all about that island.”
Danny had spent some time being a bit of a wild thing through high school and even college—but a few years back, he’d become a city guide. He was charming and personable and the perfect person for such a job. He’d also immersed himself in the history of the city with a vengeance.
“I’ll see you before opening,” she promised. “Meet at the pub?”
“I’ll be praying for you all night,” he promised.
“Danny, stop it. Curses don’t exist.”
“Okay, but call me again, before you even head in, okay? Better yet...”
“What?”
“I’m going to come to you. I’ll be out in an hour and a half.” He was quiet a second. “I’m going to bring you some of the stuff I have on the island. I even have copies of old maps.”
“It is an island, Danny—there’s no subway out here, no ferry—”
“See you,” he said, and hung up.
Kieran stood in the great hall, staring at what looked very much like a medieval hearth and the long table that might have seated a noble court. The place was so...big. Maybe it wasn’t going to be such a bad thing to have Danny out here, too. And he seemed to know so much about the place.
She headed back into the parlor. Finn and Craig were standing.
“We’re taking a quick walk,” Craig told her.
