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Page 6


  “Did you ever go to the apartment after Pete moved there?”

  Molly held up her hand. “I only went once. That was enough for me. Pete Graham is no housekeeper. He had lived there about a week when I went there. It looked like a war zone. There were a few dishes in the sink that hadn’t been washed even though he had a dishwasher. I guess it can be described as a typical bachelor pad.” She smiled and shook her head.

  Brenda didn’t see humor in the story. Either Pete Graham had nothing to hide or he was a very good actor. He may put on a good show for everyone to build his nice guy reputation but there was something suspicious about him that Brenda couldn’t put her finger on. She took the last sip of her coffee and declined a refill, thanking Molly for her frankness.

  Once outside, she called Mac. The interrogations were finished. He told her that they weren’t allowing Edward or Pete Graham to leave town. “Edward wasn’t happy about it, but agreed to hold off for another few days. We were surprised he agreed. He knows he’s not under arrest. It’s like playing cat and mouse when you have a lawyer as a possible suspect. But at least this gives us time to get into it all deeper.”

  “I do wonder if Lady Pendleton ever mentioned anything to William about Patrick’s disappearance.”

  “I’ve got time to go see him right now,” Mac said. “I’ll see what he has to say. But we all know they didn’t exactly have a close relationship.”

  “I agree. But maybe he has found more papers that pertain to it all. You can tell him what my father and I found in the box he sent home with me, and what you and I found, too. I feel sure he knew what was in there.” She paused. “By the way, there was a key in the packet I found. I have it with me but not sure what it goes to.”

  “Maybe it’s an apartment key,” Mac said. “Keep it with you so we’ll know where it is. I may get a search warrant to go inside Patrick’s former apartment. During the interrogation of Pete I didn’t think to tell him I wanted to look inside,” he said with a grin. “Besides, I didn’t want to tip him off though his father has probably already done that.”

  Brenda passed the apartment building on her way back to the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast and couldn’t resist going for a closer look. Patrick’s address, found in Lady Pendleton’s appointment book, indicated he lived on the top floor, now occupied by Pete Graham. She felt luck was with her because the apartment was on the backside of the building. She realized that Patrick must have had a wonderful view of the ocean from this vantage point. She wondered if Pete Graham appreciated it, too. Brenda noticed that Edward’s office was closed. The lights were out and she presumed he had gone home after the interrogation. She knew Pete would be at the Post Office finishing up work. She had a few hours before he would be home.

  The front door at the opposite end of the building was unlocked. She went inside and climbed the stairs to the top floor. Pulling the key from her purse she inserted it into the lock. After several attempts, she faced the reality that it didn’t fit. She looked down the hall. Every door resembled the one she stood at. The only sounds came from the seagulls and the ocean lapping against the town’s harbor wall down the street.

  Giving up on finding any significant information, Brenda started to go back downstairs when she noticed a trash can in the corner of the landing. Trash almost filled the container. Her eye caught something that caused her hopes to rise. The pill bottle was partially hidden beneath torn paper and when she retrieved it she saw Edward Graham’s name on the prescription label. The empty bottle had contained Restoril. She knew this pill was one that not only helped people fall asleep but also helped them stay asleep. She was familiar with it since her mother had used that prescription on occasion. Why would Edward Graham need sleeping pills? Brenda reminded herself not to judge too quickly when thoughts raced through her mind. She knew it wasn’t necessarily a sign of a guilty conscience that someone had trouble sleeping. After all, her mother had a clear conscience, as far as Brenda knew.

  She tucked the bottle into her purse and vowed to ask Edward Graham about it at the next opportunity. As quiet as the hallway was, Brenda felt sure no one was in the other four apartments on that floor. On another hunch, she went back and inserted the key into the one next to Pete’s. It didn’t work, nor did it work in any of the doors. Disappointed, she finally went back to the ground level and out the front door. Snow began to fall and the fresh cover over old snowfall soon looked like a new carpet.

  Brenda loved winter. The cold snowflakes that hit her face rejuvenated her. She walked the rest of the block and circled back down the alley until she reached the back of the apartment building. She stood back and gazed at the structure. When she looked down she saw fresh tracks in the snow that definitely weren’t her own. They didn’t lead directly to the door. Instead, they ended at a section of the building’s wall before turning away again. She was dumbfounded.

  Chapter Seven

  Discovery

  Brenda stood where she was. The footprints that led to the blank brick wall and then left were fresh. Someone had made those prints while she was up on the top floor. She was baffled as to why someone would go to the wall and then turn away from it. There were no meters there or air units of any kind. She peered closer at the brick wall of the Victorian building. When she looked again, things began to fall in place. There was a tiny, dark keyhole in the wall. She fumbled in her purse and in her nervousness almost spilled its contents when she pulled the key out. She stepped in the same prints that were already there and inserted the key into the keyhole. To her surprise and dread the key fit. What would she find? She heard the lock click and gave the wall a push.

  It took several tries before Brenda successfully pushed open the hidden door. No one would have guessed it was a door camouflaged in the brick wall. Without the footprints giving the first clue to the keyhole, Brenda would have easily missed it. Lady Pendleton’s former building had a special private entrance, but to what? Brenda quickly looked around her. No one was in sight. Snow was already covering the retreating footprints. She went inside and closed the door behind her.

  Brenda blinked several times to adjust to the semi-darkness of the passageway. She moved forward and the floor sloped down gradually. There were several dim nightlights along the lower part of the hallway. She looked left and right and there was nothing on either side of her. The width of the hallway was approximately five feet. After walking further, she saw a wooden door a few yards ahead of her. She held her breath and listened. No one had opened the door behind her and she hoped whoever had just been in here wasn’t coming back any time soon. The huge wooden door appeared thick.

  Something dawned on her that sent shock waves through her body. “Patrick,” she called through the keyhole in the large door. “Patrick,” she called louder. She put her ear to the opening meant for an old-fashioned skeleton key. She heard a moaning sound. No one actually answered but she knew what she heard.

  “Patrick, be patient a little while longer. I’ll be back with help.” Brenda rushed to the outside door and cautiously opened it. She ran to the end of the block and called Mac.

  “I think I’ve found Patrick,” she said. “Hurry to the back of the apartment building. Come right away. I’ll meet you by the back door.” She hung up before Mac could answer her. She paced in the thickening snowfall while she waited. It seemed hours but in reality it was mere minutes before Mac, Bryce and Chief Ingram pulled up in two patrol cars in the alley.

  She motioned them over to the wall. Mac wondered what she found so interesting about the back of the brick building until he spotted the keyhole when she pointed to it.

  “The key I found fits in there.” Brenda inserted the small key and told them to push on the wall. Bryce nudged the hidden door open with no trouble. “Follow me.” She hurried down the sloping passageway to the wooden door. Again she bent to the keyhole and called Patrick’s name. A voice moaned louder. Brenda turned to the men. “Someone will have to open this door. He doesn’t sound good. I don’t su
ppose any of you has a skeleton key on you.”

  Without words, all three men formed a phalanx and rammed their bodies against the door. It opened on their second try. Inside the small, pitch-black room they could barely see a cot. There were no windows. To the right was a small bathroom barely large enough for one person to squeeze into. Remnants of fast food cartons were strewn on the dilapidated table near the cot. Brenda switched a lamp on that was near the bed and the dim light flooded the room. An emaciated man on the cot cowered from the light. He could barely lift his head.

  “Are you Patrick Lindsey?” Brenda asked.

  The figure on the cot gave a lopsided grin before closing his eyes again.

  “That’s Patrick,” Mac said. Chief Ingram agreed.

  Brenda showed them the empty sleeping pill bottle with Edward Graham’s name on it. “I found this in the trash upstairs. I think he has been drugged with sleeping pills,” she said. She knelt down next to the cot and placed a hand gently on his skinny arm. “It’s going to be okay, Patrick,” she said, and he made only a faint moan in reply.

  Detective Bryce Jones left the building and called for an ambulance. In a few short minutes, the EMTs arrived and loaded Patrick Lindsey into the ambulance. The sirens blared as it headed for the hospital with its precious cargo. Two more cops had arrived and were stringing yellow tape across the doorway where Patrick Lindsey had spent the last five years before his recovery. They did the same on the outside door.

  “Go arrest Edward and Pete Graham right away. Charge them with kidnapping, for starters.”

  Chief Bob Ingram pushed his phone back into his pocket and told Brenda to get in his car. Brenda’s heart was racing as they followed the ambulance. Bryce followed in his car. One of the cops rode with him and when they arrived at the hospital, he was ordered to stay with Patrick Lindsey at all times and guard his room, once he was moved to one. Chief Ingram instructed his officer to not allow anyone to enter the room unless authorized to do so.

  At the hospital, Patrick was taken to Intensive Care first. “We’re keeping him there until we can evaluate him better, determine whether he is seriously afflicted in some way. It’s precautionary,’ the doctor told Chief Ingram. They were worried about his emaciated state. Brenda shuddered to think what the poor man had been through mentally, under lock and key and without any access to sunshine for five long years.

  They all went to an assigned private waiting room for further news of Patrick’s condition.

  “I have to call Phyllis,” Brenda said, realizing suddenly she had almost forgotten the ultimate purpose of her investigation. “She will be thrilled we found Patrick.” She noticed a hesitation from the two men at first. “She has to know. What if he doesn’t make it for some reason? She has to see him first. She’s his next of kin.”

  “You’re right, Brenda,” the Chief said. “Go ahead and give her the good news.”

  Phyllis’ voice shook when she heard Brenda’s news. She asked Brenda several times if she was sure it was her brother. Brenda assured her he had not only been identified by the Chief and Mac but now by his own cognizance, as the hospital had been able to reverse the effects of the sedative he had been drugged with. She told the housekeeper that Patrick was in Intensive Care for observation but she could have a short visit with him. To Brenda, it seemed in no time at all Phyllis and Molly were running down the hallway of the hospital. The doctor allowed them to go in and see Patrick for a few minutes. Mixed emotions crossed Phyllis’ face. She tried to hold tears back through a wide smile that spoke her joy.

  Brenda paced in the small waiting room.

  “You’ll have to wait like the rest of us, Brenda. Pacing won’t hurry things along.” Mac grinned at her. “How did you find that door? I’ve been down that alley many times in the past and never once did I see it as anything except a part of the building.”

  Brenda was happy for the diversion. She explained the footprints in the snow. “They were probably two or three sizes larger than mine. Whoever made the prints has wide feet, too. I was curious why they led to the wall and then walked away back to the alley. I wondered why the person hadn’t gone into the building through the main door. When I looked closer where the footsteps had stopped, I saw the small black keyhole. I tried the key I found in the packet that Lady Pendleton owned and it fit. The rest is history.”

  She decided now was not the time to tell them she had tried the key in Pete’s apartment and the others on that hallway. When asked, she explained she had learned from Lady Pendleton’s appointment book that the apartment was on the backside of the Victorian building on the top floor.

  “I decided to go around to the back and see if I could find any clues. I had already gone inside the building through the unlocked front door. I went up to the top floor hoping to find some clues. That’s when I saw the pill bottle in the trash can.”

  “I don’t suppose you tried that key in Pete’s apartment,” Mac said teasingly.

  Warmth crept into Brenda’s face. “I admit I tried it, but it didn’t work. All right…I confess I tried the other doors on that hall as well.”

  The detective and the Chief of Police glanced at one another with amusement but neither commented.

  “We’d better see if we can talk to Patrick now,” Chief Ingram said.

  They met Phyllis and Molly coming from Intensive Care. Phyllis enveloped Brenda in a big hug. “He wouldn’t give us any details because he said he had to talk to Mac and Bob first. He said a woman found him. I’m sure that was you, Brenda.”

  “I did find him. I’ll give you details later. Right now, we’re going to try to talk to him.”

  “He has IVs for fluid going into him, but he’s awake,” Molly said. “We’re going to wait here until we can see him again.”

  Phyllis and Molly hugged Brenda one more time. “Thank you, Brenda,” Phyllis said, her eyes tearing up. She repeated it three more times before Brenda managed to pull away and follow the two men.

  In his hospital bed, Patrick was leaning against the pillows stacked behind his head and shoulders. A light tint of pinkness had returned to his face but he was still groggy. The doctor told them they had ten to fifteen minutes with him but could come back in about an hour or two.

  “He should be even more alert by then. We’ll be doing tests on him in a matter of a few hours.”

  Patrick looked at Brenda. “I only know you are the person who found me, but I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

  She introduced herself to Patrick and briefly explained her ownership of Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. Chief Ingram told Patrick they were allowed just a few minutes with him but they needed some information as to how he ended up in the hole they found him in.

  “I was working for Edward Graham. Lady Pendleton wanted an exorbitant rent increase from me and I took her to court over it. Edward pointed me to a lawyer outside the office to take my case. I won the case.” He coughed and looked exhausted, but then resumed. “A few days later I discovered a second set of records of dealings between Edward and Lady Pendleton. It was by accident I found them.”

  He took a deep breath and his eyelids fluttered for a few seconds. Mac told him they could come back in about an hour. “No,” Patrick said. “I want to give you a few details at least. Lady Pendleton was tampering with everyone’s tax records. She looked at how much money businesses and individuals earned and then raised rents to match. There was no way anyone could get ahead, no matter how good their businesses did or their jobs increased their paychecks. She raised rents accordingly.”

  “I think that’s enough for now. Try to sleep some,” the Chief said.

  “No. That’s all I’ve done the last five years,” Patrick said. “I have to tell you a little more right now so you can arrest Edward and Pete, too.” The Chief told him they were already in custody and Patrick seemed to relax a little. He continued. “I had no idea Edward already knew when I told him what I discovered. I even asked him to instigate a lawsuit against her.
I guess Edward passed this on to her and she interfered right away. Edward told me she threatened to blackmail him and eventually get him disbarred if he let me go public with everything. She told him to involve Pete in the cover-up, though Edward didn’t want to do it at first.” He grinned. “I guess Lady Pendleton will finally get what’s really coming to her.” No one gave him the news of her demise.

  Patrick shifted in his bed. “Unbeknownst to me, she told Edward to get rid of me. He told Pete to intercept all mail coming to me and going out from me. Lady Pendleton knew I was looking for an apartment and she was the one who owned the building. She told Edward to show me the apartment on the top floor. I took it knowing that no matter where I lived she probably owned the building. I expected her to raise my rent like everyone else, but I knew I could go public with the evidence of her dirty tax dealings if I needed to. It was a hot July night as I recall when Pete came to see me. We had a couple of beers together. I can usually handle two with no problem, but I got drowsy and before I knew what had happened I woke up and found myself locked in that dungeon where you found me.”

  “I know you have a lot more to say, Patrick, but if we don’t follow your doctor’s orders we’ll be banned from the ICU. Get a good night’s sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.” The chief patted him on his arm. “Gain some weight back. You look too skinny.”

  Patrick grinned again, weakly. “Thanks for the compliment as usual, Bob.” He looked at Brenda and beckoned her closer to the bed. He squeezed her hand and grew serious. “I will never be able to repay you for what you did for me.”

  “Yes, you will. You will be the best wedding present for your sister. You’ll be able to celebrate her wedding Christmas Eve.”

  They left Patrick with a shocked but happy look on his face.

  “Do either of you need a ride home?” Mac asked Phyllis and Molly.

 

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