The Cracked Spine Page 9

  “But everything else is beautiful!” I said as I looked as many directions as I could.

  Mostly, it was old architecture up and down the long sloped road. Buildings made of brown and gray stone and adorned with tall windows and peaked and corniced roof lines. The buildings were tall, and they all had small businesses on their bottom floors—restaurants, souvenir shops, pubs, their upper floors holding what I determined were flats, business offices, art galleries, and government offices.

  “A mile, huh?” I said.

  “A wee bit more than a mile,” Elias said. “Almost another two hundred of yer American yards. Ye’ll want to explore it all. Venture doon the closes—uh, the alleys, I believe ye call them.”

  I spotted a couple of the closes, the narrow passageways, each of which had a sign above it.

  “I’ve heard about the closes. Do you know where the Fleshmarket Close is located?”

  “’Tis somewhere directly oof the Royal Mile, but I’m nae sure which direction. Aggie would ken exactly.”

  “Maybe I’ll make a day of exploring some of them this weekend.”

  “Aye. Ye’ll enjoy every meenit of it. I have one more place to show ye afore we take a leuk at the flat where that poor lass was killed,” Elias said.

  Elias crossed through the intersection and then took a couple of left turns.

  “Ah, a spot in front,” Elias said. “I’ll just stop a minute, but ye’ll want tae spend some time in there later, I’m shuir, particularly since ye’re working at a bookshop and used tae work at a museum. There, have a leuk.”

  The building was tall, formed with some of the same sturdy stones I’d already seen. It looked like a miniature castle with a turret atop the front corner and old double wooden doors at the bottom.

  “It’s wonderful. What is it?”

  “’Tis the Writers’ Museum. Scotland is proud of those inside. Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott, and Robert Louis Stevenson.”

  “Ooooh,” I exclaimed, my hand involuntarily going to the door handle even though I knew there wouldn’t be time to tour it today.

  As I looked wide-eyed at the building, I soaked in the entirety of the moment—a museum devoted to Burns, Scott, and Stevenson; could there be a better potential heaven on earth? I closed my eyes and decided to let them into my head for a second. Their voices were clear and sure.

  “The best laid schemes ’o mice and men,” Robert Burns said.

  “Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive,” said Sir Walter.

  “I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move,” said Robert Louis Stevenson.

  “Delaney, lass?” Elias said as he put his hand on my arm.

  My eyes popped open. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was … taking it all in.” I could have listened to them for hours. Some other day.

  “S’aw right. I was saying, ye do ken that Edinburgh is a national city of books or some such thing?”

  “I do.” I smiled at Elias. “I think there are over fifty bookshops in Edinburgh. That in itself is amazing.”

  “Aye, ’tis. I didn’t ken that. Fifty?” Elias frowned. “Dinnae tell Aggie. If she ken there were that many, I expect I’d have tae take her tae each and every one.”

  I laughed. “Deal.” I looked back out at the museum. “I can’t wait to visit this museum but I’ll need a full day at least.” And I’d need to do this tour on my own.

  “Aye.”

  I sighed and relaxed into the seat. “Could we go to Jenny’s now?”

  “I s’pose.”

  “You’d rather not, huh?”

  Elias shrugged. “All has been gaun well. I’m superstitious enough not tae want tae test our guid luck. Driving tae leuk at a murder victim’s home might play havoc with our guid fortune. Scots are a freitie bunch.”

  “Freitie?”

  “Superstitious,” Elias said.

  “We’ll make it quick?” I said hopefully. I wasn’t superstitious in the strictest sense of the word, but I had a few rituals. I also didn’t sense that there would be anything wrong or even particularly dangerous about driving past Jenny’s flat.

  Elias shot me a patient smile. “Awright.”

  The drive was slow because the traffic became too thick to zip anywhere. I took the opportunity to ask a question that had been on my mind since the morning.

  “Elias, what would I do if I wanted to find addresses of people who live in Edinburgh? Are there phone books?”

  “Who do ye want tae find?”

  “Some friends of my boss’s.”

  “Ye cannae ask him?”

  “No, not right now.”

  “If ye’d like, ye can give me the names and I can ask Aggie tae help. She kens how tae find people.”

  “Thanks,” I said, without committing one way or the other. I wanted the addresses of the members of Fleshmarket. I didn’t think I should give their names to anyone else, at least until I understood the secrecy within the group better.

  “Ah, we’re here. The lass lived a bit on the outskirts of the city,” Elias said as we came upon an area with less traffic that reminded me more of a residential neighborhood in Wichita than part of an old historical town. “Up forrit, there is the building that was listed as the address.”

  The building was much more modern than what I’d seen in the city proper. It was five stories and made of white, light brown, and dark brown brick. It reminded me of a bigger version of the 1970s apartment buildings back in Kansas. Each flat had a wrought iron and thin plywood-paneled fence around a small balcony. The surrounding neighborhood was somewhat bleak but not dirty.

  “It looks pretty safe to me,” I said.

  Elias looked around. He didn’t seem all that concerned, but he was very aware.

  “We’re probably awright during the day.”

  From the outside, of course, there was no way to tell which flat had been Jenny’s. I was surprised that I was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to know exactly which one was hers, to connect with her that way.

  “Elias, could you wait here a second? I’d like to go inside and talk to the landlord.”

  “Hou? Now, why would ye want tae do something like that?” he said. He lifted his hat and then put it back on his head, causing the tufts of gray hair to fluff.

  I shrugged. “I could pretend to be looking for a flat.”

  “Ye think the murder victim’s flat will be available?” Elias said, his voice high with disbelief.

  “No, not really, but maybe I could just get a feel for the place, a sense of Jenny.”

  “I dinnae understand, lass,” Elias said.

  “I’m not sure I do either,” I said as I looked back at the building. “I’d just like to go inside for a minute. I’m sure it’s safe. It’s daylight, and whoever murdered Jenny isn’t lurking nearby.” Well, if they were, still, it was daylight.

  Elias sighed. “Let me come in with ye.”

  “No, it will be more awkward with two of us. It’ll be okay with just me. This won’t be dangerous. Look, there’s someone coming out of the building right now.”

  An old woman cloaked in a frayed rain jacket and a plastic head scarf exited the front doors. She moved as if she was irritated about something, quick but labored steps down the walkway, directly toward us. I watched her but I didn’t think she noticed us until she was almost directly upon the cab.

  “Och, what are ye doin’ just sittin’ there?” she said as her eyes landed on mine.

  “Sorry, I was just wondering…” I began.

  “Spit it oot.”

  “I was just wondering if this was where the woman was murdered.”

  “Do ye ken how tae read?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are ye civilized enough tae get the newspaper?”

  “Yes,” I said, keeping out the details of why I didn’t have one of my own yet.

  “Then ye can read aboot it in the paper like civilized people do. People have been comin�
�� ’round ere all day. I’m tired of it.”

  Elias’s cab was the only vehicle in the area that could potentially contain curious stalkers. I looked around, but didn’t see any other suspicious characters.

  “Weel, they were all mostly here this morning,” she said with a click of her teeth.

  “Did you know the victim?” I asked.

  She looked at me with hard eyes, as if she couldn’t believe I would ask such a question. I remained silent, but my toes curled a little.

  A moment later her eyes softened and lit with amusement. It was kind of creepy.

  “Aye, I ken the hiely wumman,” she said. “I wilnae sae she deserved what she got, but it wasnae a big surprise.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I forged on, not wanting to miss my chance. “Why wasn’t it a surprise?”

  “Pretendin’ tae be something she wasna. Living here instead of some place for rich people, like her brother.” The old woman blinked and withered. “I shouldnae be sain such things. Now go on, get yerselves oot of here. There’s nothing tae see.” She turned abruptly and walked away, her steps slower but no less determined.

  “There ye have it, I s’pose,” Elias said.

  “What is hiely?”

  “Snooty.”

  “Please, just give me a second, Elias,” I said as I opened the door and hurried out of the cab. I closed the door and leaned into the open window. “I promise I’ll be fine. I’m just going inside for a minute. I won’t go into anyone’s place. I’ll just knock on the landlord’s door.”

  “Gracious, lass, the thought that ye might do such a thing hadnae even occurred tae me. I think I should come in with ye.”

  “No, it will be better this way, I promise. I’ll be right back.”

  Elias looked at me a long moment.

  “I won’t do anything dangerous, Elias. I promise.”

  “Aggie will have my hide, but go on. Make it quick.”

  “Thanks.”

  I hurried up the walkway and opened the building door. There was no security, either in the form of a guard or a simple buzzer. I could just walk directly inside.

  The entryway and attached hallway were both clean. The walls were beige and the carpets brown, the colors consistent with the outside brick colors. There weren’t any strange smells and it was so quiet. No screaming babies or adults, no loud music, nothing. There was a faint scent of disinfectant, which wasn’t unpleasant.

  The landlord’s flat was easy to find. It was the second one on my left and it had a sign posted on the door that said, “Manager.”

  I hesitated and thought about the story I was going to tell. After running it through my mind quickly a couple of times, I decided I could easily handle it.

  I knocked.

  There was no answer, so I knocked again. Still, no answer.

  I peered down the hallway. There were ten doors on each side. I’d counted five stories. Fifty flats?

  Nothing seemed out of place on this floor. I didn’t see any sign that this building had recently been the scene of a horrible murder. There was no crime scene tape fluttering outside a door.

  For a moment I thought about checking out the other floors, but if I was gone too long, I knew Elias would come searching for me. I didn’t want to worry him more than I already had. Besides, I shouldn’t be roaming around a place I was unfamiliar with anyway. No matter how much I wanted to.

  I turned away from the manager’s door.

  “Need something?” a voice said from behind me.

  I gasped at the sudden and gruff voice.

  “Sairy,” the man in his underwear and robe said. He hadn’t bothered to tie the robe closed.

  He stood in the open doorway of the flat that had been on my right and behind me as I’d been looking down the long hallway. He must have had the quietest door in all of Edinburgh. I hadn’t heard a squeak or even a slight whistle of air movement.

  “Oh. Yes, I was looking for the manager,” I said in my best recover voice.

  “He’s nae around much.” He pulled the ties of the robe forward and closed the show. He wasn’t old but he was at the far end of middle age with uneven salt-and-pepper hair, a matching short and scraggly beard, and heavily sagging eyes.

  “I see. Well, I can stop by another time. When do you think would be all right?”

  He shrugged.

  “Do you know if the building has any available flats?” I forged on.

  “Ye’re from the United States, are ye?”

  “I am. I’ll be staying awhile.”

  He nodded, and the eyes above the heavy sags squinted.

  “Aye, there are plenty of available flats, but I’d recommend ye find another place. There are better places.”

  “I need cheap.”

  He shrugged again. “Ye’ll get cheap here, but spend a wee bit more and get something a wee bit better. Just by the looks of ye, if ye were my daughter I wouldnae want ye living here.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged again, but didn’t say anything.

  “Okay, well, thank you,” I said after the silence had gone on too long.

  “Ye’re welcome. Have a lovely evenin’.” He closed the door without making hardly any sound at all.

  I stood in the hallway another moment and thought about what I should do next. The only thing that came to me was that I should rejoin Elias in the cab. I also concluded that if the owners of the building advertised their vacancies, they should include how achingly quiet the whole place seemed to be.

  Which, frankly, was odd.

  Quiet didn’t usually go along with places that were troublesome, or places that new arrivals from America should stay away from.

  Maybe I’d just hit it at a quiet time. Late afternoon was quiet time? It would be difficult to know without another visit, which I wasn’t prepared to schedule at the moment, particularly as I glanced again at the robe man’s door and sensed that he was watching me through the peephole.

  I hurried out of the building.

  Elias had gotten out of the cab and was pacing the sidewalk in front of it. When he turned and saw me, he looked relieved.

  “How’d it go?” he asked.

  “Fine. No problems at all.”

  “Did ye inquire aboot the flat?”

  “No, the manager didn’t answer, but it’s not the sort of place I want to live anyway. The place I’ve got is much better,” I teased.

  “’Tis a fact. Come along, lass, let’s go home.”

  Elias held the door again and I scooted into the passenger seat. I held on tight and was glad there were seat belts in the front because the drive home was more like the drive from the airport; however, it was good to have a real home to hurry to.

  ELEVEN

  I stepped off the bus with a sense of satisfaction I hadn’t felt in some time. Of course, the shop was kind of a straight shot from my new home, but Aggie had still painstakingly drawn me a map and written out the exact bus number I was to board. And, of course, she’d walked me to the bus and stepped up and onto it behind me. She’d said to the driver, “Ye will make sure this young lass gets off at the Grassmarket stop. She will probably be able tae handle the trip just fine, but it will be on yer shoulders if something happens tae her.”

  Aggie and Elias had discussed the best way for me to get to and from work. They decided I needed some independence—this was a good conclusion for them to come to because as I’d been listening to their discussion I’d been trying to figure out a way to remind them that I was a grown-up. They got there. Thankfully. And, the bus driver knew enough to just nod and say, “Aye, ma’am,” to Aggie.

  He glanced at me in his large observation mirror and we shared an understanding smile. He’d probably had lots of mothers step aboard and make sure their little ones were watched over carefully. The fact that I wasn’t so little and that Aggie wasn’t my mother didn’t much matter.

  It was a cool-ish day, and still cloudy. I thought it might rain today, not just drizzle, but
I wasn’t sure. Another typical Edinburgh day, according to what I’d heard. Except the temperature was probably a little higher than normal, at around sixty-five degrees, which Elias had explained was a little over eighteen degrees Celsius. I’d get used to the weather conversion much quicker than I would the driving on the wrong side of the road.

  I was comfortable in nice slacks and a blouse. It seemed like appropriate working attire. Though I wasn’t sure—in the three days I’d been at the shop it hadn’t been discussed. It hadn’t been a priority. I would ask Rosie today to make sure I was acceptable.

  I’d had an issue with the warm water in my shower, but Elias said he’d fix it by the time I got home that evening. Other than that, I’d been extremely cozy in my new home. I’d e-mailed my parents late last night again, and I imagined their relief and happiness at all the good news. Of course, I left out the part about Jenny’s murder. I’d share that with them later. Maybe. I needed to buy a new cell phone—a mobile phone with UK service—but I wasn’t sure when that was going to happen.

  I was at the shop by 7:30, and I thought I saw movement in the back as I peered in the window. It looked like Rosie was already there. As I pulled my face and hand away from the glass, another reflection directly next to me came into view.

  “Oh,” I said. “Excuse me. I didn’t expect…”

  “Pardon me,” the man said.

  I couldn’t help myself. I had to inspect him. Surely, he was used to it by now. He was beautiful, but in a manly, Scottish kind of way. Had he perhaps stepped out of a book, a Scottish folktale? Had my imagination finally stepped over and into the abyss? Was I now hearing and seeing three-dimensional forms, more than just as part of a daydream?

  He was probably over six feet tall, but not by much. His dark curly hair was a little longer in the back but not mullet-worthy. His face was friendly, but rough—that was probably the early morning shadow that most likely sprouted the second after he finished shaving. His eyes were cobalt blue—that was the word that came to my mind when I saw them. Cobalt.

  He wore a red and blue kilt, but for some reason it took on a whole new meaning today. On him, a kilt wasn’t just interesting, it was … interesting.