Carol Clark: Laced

“You made me and my wife look good,” he joked. “That’s magic in itself. Let me show you a thing or two…”

Then she met Bobby, who had drifted from job to job over the years, occasionally making a few bucks here and there in whatever schemes he could get involved in. But those schemes had been minor until he met Anna. Halfway through dinner on their first date she held up his expensive watch and asked coyly, “Were you looking for this?”

Reflexively, he grabbed his wrist. The watch was gone! How did she do it? The woman was a genius!

He fell in love.

It wasn’t long before they decided to pool their talents and go for the excitement and money that was out in the world, just waiting for them.

And in more than seven years they had never been caught.

After nearly two hours of early-morning driving on twisting, turning, two-lane country roads, they were almost at their home, a three-room dwelling that was their only permanent residence.

“What are we going to do with the lace tablecloth?” Anna asked as she dug in her purse for a piece of gum. After all those years of being two inches from people’s faces, she became addicted to any form of breath mint.

Bobby shrugged. “Somebody out there will want it. It has historic value. It’s nice.”

“Nice? It’s gorgeous. That May Reilly had talent. She was a lacemaker ahead of her time, I’ll tell you that. Not too many people knew how to make lace in this country until twenty years after she died. I think I would have liked her. If she were living today, I’d love to do her makeup.” Anna paused. “I bet we could find someone who would pay a lot of money for that tablecloth of hers.”

“Good.”

Bobby turned down the dirt path that ended at their front door.

“I get tears in my eyes whenever we return to our home by the sea,” Anna said as she unwrapped the foil around her favorite spearmint gum. “It’s like we’re the only two people in the world when we’re here. We’re really living our dream. It’s so peaceful. I just wish I had girlfriends to go to lunch with.”

Bobby was unmoved. “This place is good for what it’s good for,” he said. “We spend a little down time here, and then when we’re about to go nuts from the quiet, we go back out into the world again, guns blazing.” He laughed his annoying laugh. “That’s why I like it. The boredom motivates me.”

Anna nodded. “True. What I miss most when we’re here is having people to talk to. When I was a makeup artist, people would tell me stories that would curl your toes. I enjoyed that.”

“Those stories didn’t pay for traveling around the world to five-star resorts,” Bobby snapped as he stopped the car.

“I bet I could have sold some of them,” Anna replied

“You would have if you had known me.”

Inside the cottage it was damp and chilly. Anna turned on the heat, thankful they had bought a cottage with modern heating and plumbing systems. The message light on their answering machine was blinking. “Who could be calling us?” Bobby muttered as he pressed the playback button.

“Karen and Len, it’s Siobhan Noonan from O’Malley’s pub here. I don’t know whether you’re in town, but if you are, come join us this evening, if you please. Three local musicians will be performing. It’ll be a good craic. You told me to let you know when we’d have live Irish music.”

“There’s one person we should never have talked to,” Bobby scoffed.

“We had to wait so long for a table that night,” Anna remembered. “It’s probably a mistake for us to have more than one drink while we’re sitting at the bar. Loose lips sink ships.” She didn’t point out that Bobby had been the one who gave Siobhan their number after gulping down his second scotch on the rocks. Siobhan’s gift of the gab was dangerously infectious. “But it might be fun to go up there tonight and just relax and listen to music.”

“Maybe,” Bobby said, “but I’ll need a nap first.” He opened the back door, stepped out onto the porch, and stared out at the gray Atlantic Ocean far in the distance.

You do need a nap, Anna thought. You’re getting cranky. She went and put her arms around him.

“What are you smiling about?” Bobby asked.

“I’m imagining Jack Reilly’s expression if he ever found out how we knew he was coming to Ireland.”

Bobby couldn’t help but grin. “That would be a sight to see…”

Regan couldn’t believe it. Jane and John Doe had been right here in Hennessy Castle.

“I’d like to take a look at the room where they stayed,” Jack said in a controlled tone to Neil. “I hope it hasn’t been cleaned yet.”

“Right away!” Neil cried and barked to a clerk. “They were registered under the name Norton. What room were they in?” A moment later Neil was handed the room key. “If they stole the tablecloth, then they must have been the ones who set the fire!” he said as he motioned for Regan and Jack to follow him.

“The fire was definitely set?” Regan asked.

“Indeed! Terrible, isn’t it?”

“What time did the Nortons check out?” Jack asked as they once again raced down a hallway of Hennessy Castle.

“About five A.M. Right after everyone went back to their rooms. They were so polite. It made me feel terrible that these two old folks were heading out so early on such a damp, depressing morning. I was actually worried that they’d catch a cold and tried to get them to stay. But they both insisted that they wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping here after there had been a fire… Those two devils are such liars!”

“They’re devils all right,” Jack agreed. “Did they have a car picking them up?”

“No. They said they had their own car.”

“Do you have the license number?”

“Highly doubtful.”

They reached the door of the room. Neil unlocked it and pushed the door open. The bed was rumpled but didn’t look as if it had been slept in. The room service cart from the night before was at the foot of the bed in front of the television.

“I see they ordered the steak,” Neil observed. “It’s really gorgeous.”

It was clear that the criminal couple had hearty appetites. The baked potato jackets had been scraped bare, traces of oil lingered on the salad plates, and only a few crumbs remained in the bread basket. Two sparkling water bottles were empty.

No drinking on the job, Regan observed.

There was no sign that the shower had been used. The sink in the bathroom had a blob of pink toothpaste stuck to its side. They came in their disguises, Regan thought, and were here to get a job done-like actors in a play. This had been the backstage area until it was showtime.

Neil, Regan, and Jack checked the room from top to bottom. There was nothing left behind. The garbage cans were empty. Jane and John Doe are pros, Regan thought.

“Neil,” Jack said, “can we go back to your office and check their reservation records? I’d also like to take a look at the kitchen.”

Neil nodded.

The kitchen looked like a typical large commercial kitchen. Except this one was charred. The massive stove and the wall behind it were blackened. Workers were cleaning up the mess caused by the fire and the attempts to put it out.

“Is that the cook who pulled the fire alarm?” Jack asked Neil, pointing to a guy in his mid-forties, slightly heavy, with pointed features and dark hair peeking out from under his chef’s hat. He didn’t look as if he was having a great day.

“Yes.”

“Could we talk to him in your office?”

A second door behind the front desk led to Neil’s office. It was small but cozy and, like the rest of the castle, beautifully decorated. His desk was a large wooden antique, and the chairs were leather. The plush rug had a deep red background. A small fireplace between two small windows was not lit. I guess he’s in no mood for any more fires, Regan thought. But I bet he’d love to hide in here. A theft, a fire that was deliberately set, and international thieves who had been hotel guests might cause problems for Hennessy Castle ’s fine reputation.