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“But how? Blackpool was long associated with smuggling, but evidence of slave trading was only found recently with the discovery of the Seaclipse. And there is no evidence tying the Crowe family to it.”
“Maybe we should ask Nanny.”
“Speaking of Nanny, Paddington would like to have a meeting with her, as well.” Michael glanced around. “I don’t really think this place would be good for that.”
“I won’t have her taken to the Blackpool police station and questioned there.”
“She could choose not to go.”
Molly gave him a look. “Do you really suppose Paddington is going to let that stop him?”
“No. Not with that dead man out there and still no answers about what’s going on.”
“I have a simple solution.”
“All ears, love.”
“Ask the inspector to dinner with us tonight. He can talk to Nanny there.”
“Under our watchful eye?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t think Paddington will have a problem with that. He’ll get a good meal thrown in.”
“I’ll call Iris and have her see about dinner arrangements.” Molly took out her mobile.
“You do that and I’ll go meet Rohan’s grandmother.” Michael turned and started to walk away.
“Wait.” Molly paid for one of the bottles of water from the vending machine and handed it over to Michael. “She wanted water.”
BACK AT ROHAN’S ROOM, Michael introduced himself and handed Nanny Myrie the bottled water.
“Thank you, Mr. Graham.”
“You’re welcome. Please, call me Michael.”
“Michael.” The old woman drank. “My grandson thinks a lot of you.”
“I wasn’t aware you’d been in touch.”
“An email from the internet café here and there. Not much. But he did mention the model you two were building of the town. He said you thought it was more than just a model.”
“Yes—it’s a puzzle of some sort. The buildings actually fit together to form a three-dimensional object, but I don’t know what its purpose is. Maybe it has to do with the tunnels underneath the buildings…. Rohan improved a lot of the buildings. If it hadn’t been for his skill, I don’t think I would’ve realized it was a puzzle.”
Someone cleared his voice.
Looking up, Michael saw Lockwood Nightingale standing in the doorway. The guard Paddington had assigned to the room had the solicitor out for the moment, but Nightingale didn’t seem as if he was going to be easily dissuaded.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“MRS. MYRIE, MY NAME IS Lockwood Nightingale. I need to have a word with you.”
Michael faced the man and took one step, enough to put himself between Nightingale and Rohan’s grandmother. “Perhaps this isn’t the right time.”
The solicitor stood his ground. “Mr. Graham, although I can see no reason for this to be any of your concern, perhaps you can suggest a better opportunity for a discussion between Mrs. Myrie and myself.”
“I can’t say.” Michael kept his voice calm but it was sheathed in steel. There was something about the man’s elitist attitude that rubbed him the wrong way. Getting money or being born into money just didn’t agree with some people. “But this is definitely not the time or the place.”
Nightingale peered past Michael at the old woman. “We could let Mrs. Myrie speak for herself.”
“About what?” Nanny stood and approached, but she didn’t step past Michael’s side.
“I represent Mr. Aleister Crowe, Mrs. Myrie.”
“The man that put my grandson in that bed?”
Nightingale froze for just a moment, but he didn’t bat an eye. “Quite.”
Nanny’s face turned hard. “Is Mr. Crowe too afraid to speak to me himself?”
“I advised him not to.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I thought it wouldn’t be prudent.”
“So you’re protecting him.”
Michael had to work to keep a grin off his face. Apparently Rohan’s grandmother didn’t take nonsense from slick solicitors.
“I wouldn’t say that I was protecting him, Mrs. Myrie.”
“Let me say it for you.” Nanny crossed her arms and regarded Nightingale as though he were something repugnant.
“There are legal matters that need attending to. I thought perhaps we might address them. I am in a position to ensure that Mr. Crowe is not interested in bringing criminal charges against your grandson in return for an agreement that your grandson won’t pursue a civil matter regarding the shooting.”
“Mr. Nightingale, was it?”
Nightingale nodded, and he preened just a little. Obviously he liked the sound of his own name.
“For the record, and you can quote me on this, there is nothing civil about shooting an unarmed man.” Nanny’s voice was as harsh as a whipcrack.
The burly policeman standing at the door chuckled, then covered the noise with a cough.
Nightingale glared at the man but didn’t say anything. He swiveled his attention back to Nanny with laser intensity. “Before you insist on making anything personal of this, you might want to consider your grandson’s future. If he comes out of that coma—”
“When he comes out of the coma.”
“—do you really want him spending the next several years in prison for breaking and entering?”
“Mr. Nightingale, I may look like an old woman to you, and my grandson may look like he’s on his deathbed, but that’s not the case. I’m not a stupid person and Rohan hasn’t stopped fighting. I know that Mr. Aleister Crowe can’t stop a criminal court from pressing charges if it wishes to, and my grandson’s fate was decided the moment he stepped into that house. You have nothing to offer me. You only want me to release your employer.”
Nightingale sniffed at that. “Aleister isn’t my employer. He’s my friend.”
“You’ll excuse me my rudeness due to my age, which you’ve already sought to take advantage of, but I know an employee when I see one. You work for people, Mr. Nightingale. No matter how much money you make and how much of a rich veneer you put on, that’s not going to change. You think like an employee.”
Nightingale flushed red.
“Please don’t contact me in the future, Mr. Nightingale. I will definitely be far less cordial than I am today. If you need to get in touch with me regarding legal matters, I’ll have my attorney contact you.”
“Do you have a solicitor?” Nightingale struggled to save face.
“I’m sure Mr. Graham can help me sort one out.”
Michael smiled. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Mrs. Myrie—”
The policeman turned toward Nightingale. “Sir, the lady has been very polite, in my opinion, and it’s my opinion that matters here. Now, she’s gently told you to shove off, so I’d be for shoving off if I was you. Otherwise I might be inclined to point out she could file a harassment complaint and have you carried down to the police station.”
Nightingale didn’t say anything further, but he fired one of his engraved business cards into the air.
Eyes and hands trained by thousands of hours of gaming, Michael plucked the card from the air and made the feat look effortless. “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Nightingale.”
The solicitor strode away.
Nanny patted the policeman on the arm. “Thank you, Officer.”
The man smiled and winked at her. “It was my pleasure, madam. I don’t care for a puffed-up popinjay like that one. And you’ve enough troubles without him adding to them.”
Taking Michael by the arm, Nanny turned him around and walked back to the bed. “Michael, I know that you might believe I’m a frail old woman—”
“Actually, Nanny, I stand corrected.”
“Good. I’m glad that we’ve got that out of the way.” Nanny stopped at the bed. “I know Inspector Paddington will wish to speak with me.”
“He’s already mentioned that.”
“The quicker we get that over with, the better. That way, the inspector can mark that off his to-do list and move on to whatever else he has on his plate. We need him out of the way.”
“We do?”
“Perhaps that was presumptuous of me. I hope to find out more about what drove Rohan to invade the Crowe house that night. He wouldn’t have gone there unless he had a reason.”
“I agree.”
“Then I’ll need to start looking for those answers.”
“I’d love to help.”
“We’d love to help,” Molly said as she walked through the doorway to the room. “No one else I know can keep Michael out of trouble.”
Nanny smiled at that. “I’m sure you can’t keep him completely out of trouble.”
“Perhaps not.” Molly smiled ruefully. “But no one does it better.”
“I would rather not meet the inspector on his home territory, either,” Nanny continued. “Somewhere away from the police department, I should think. And away from prying eyes.”
“You know, I believe I have just the place.”
Nanny’s eyes twinkled. “I’m not surprised.”
“How about dinner at our house?”
“Home-court rules?”
“Of course.”
Michael shook his head in amazement. Nanny Myrie and Molly had already stepped in sync. Paddington had no idea what he was in for.
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