He typed a message to Jackson. Maybe Will could enhance the footage in the morning; maybe there was some information they could get.
Jackson was still at the computer in Abby’s house.
Police closest to the area were dispatched. They were there in minutes but the person was gone, and out of camera range almost immediately.
While we were by the river.
Yes.
Do you think the cameras scared him off?
Don’t know. Camera would be pretty obvious if it was someone who knew the Dragonslayer.
Any hope of enhancing the footage?
I’ll get Will on it later in the morning. Rowboat taken to the forensic lab. I’ll report as soon as we learn anything.
OK. Grabbing a few hours sleep.
I’m on for the next few hours here. Angela spells me at eight. Police know to call at any time. I’ll keep you posted.
Malachi signed off and walked down the hallway to Abby’s room. He went in and tiptoed over to the bed.
Abby was sound asleep. She’d set her gun on the dresser—hadn’t even taken off her clothes. He pulled a blanket over her, stripped and lay down himself. He stayed awake for a few minutes, once again wondering about the mysterious noise Helen had reported.
Tap, tap, tap. He knew it meant something. But what?
Abby woke up with a jolt. It felt very late, and although the drapes were drawn, she could feel the warmth of the sun pouring in.
She dashed out of the room and found Malachi sitting at the computers.
“Good morning,” he said.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Ten.”
“Ten! We should be up and doing something.”
“You’ll notice that I am,” he said with a laugh. “But when you’re ready, we’ll go back to the area around the cemetery and the Wulf and Whistle.”
“All right. I just have to send a few emails before we go.”
“Okay, take your time.”
“Take my time?” Abby echoed. “No, no, I slept a lot. We have to get started! If this guy is following his usual timelines, Bianca doesn’t have much longer. But if we’re going back to the cemetery today, I have to live up to my promise about having that tombstone repaired.”
“Do you know who to contact?” Malachi asked.
“I know a few people on the city council. I’ll write the emails to get things started.” She walked over to the desk near the balcony, where she’d left her laptop, and then paused, looking at him. “So, how am I going to explain why I know all this? We don’t really have an opportunity to research it.”
“Just say it came up when the bureau was investigating. They won’t ask anything else if you do that. I’ll tell Jackson. He really can get someone on the research,” Malachi said.
Abby nodded and she retrieved her notepad before she quickly sat down.
“‘Lieutenant Josiah Beckwith,’” she read. “‘Born April 9, 1790. Died for his country, September 12, 1814, at the Battle of North Point during the War of 1812. Beloved son, husband and father. A patriot.’ I have it all—yes?”
“Yes.”
Abby looked through her list of email contacts, selected a few of the influential people she knew on city council and wrote something vague about finding the information while investigating the cemetery on an FBI case. She asked that the situation be rectified, that the gravestone defaced during the Civil War be repaired.
As she typed, Malachi walked over to her.
“How many people around here dress up as pirates?” he asked. She realized that he was holding a cup of coffee for her, which she accepted gratefully.
“Lots of people dress up as pirates,” Abby said. “Why?”
“Come on back to the computers when you’re done there,” he told her. “Finish your emails first.”
She did, and when she approached the computer screens, she saw that Malachi had frozen a frame of the video. It showed someone standing in front of the Dragonslayer.
Someone who looked very strange.
She could see nothing of the actual person. A massive, plumed pirate hat hid the face, and a sweeping black cloak encompassed him to a degree that hid his size. If it was a him. Abby thought that it was—the person appeared to be tall.
“When was that?” she asked Malachi.
“At 3:32 a.m.,” Malachi told her.
“When we were down by the river,” Abby said.
“He was trying to get in here?”
“So I assume. But he stopped.”
“Did he try the door? Or did he not even reach it?”
“Never tried it,” Malachi said, leaning back. “They saw it on the screens at your house on Chippewa, too, of course. They called the police right away, but by the time a couple of officers arrived...”
“He was already gone,” Abby concluded with a sigh.
“Yup. And I don’t think he was afraid of the cameras. I think he knew about them and that’s why he was smart enough to keep his head down. I think he was afraid of Blue.”
Abby stepped back. “You saw Blue? Was he on one of these screens?”
“No,” Malachi told her. “But...here’s an image the camera did pick up.”
Abby looked over his shoulder as he replayed the footage of the host stand and bar area, along with the front of the restaurant.
A dark shadow appeared just behind the entry door.
“Is that a trick of the video, of the light? Or is it...something?” Abby asked.
“Well,” Malachi mused. “It’s definitely something.”
“Do ghosts record this way?”
He smiled at her. “Maybe. I don’t really know. But...I do believe that Blue is watching over this place.”
“And you believe this...killer is someone who spends a lot of time in the Dragonslayer. And it’s the guy in the plumed hat.”
He nodded. “Let’s head over to the cemetery. We’ll see what our old folks have to say.”
Macy was at the host stand, and Abby went over to her. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, of course, Abby. What about you? How are you doing with all this?”
“I’m okay.”
Macy glanced past Abby at Malachi and smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here—all of you. For Abby.”
“Thank you, Macy,” Malachi said. “By the way, do you remember much about the day before Gus’s funeral?”
“Um, it was pretty much a day like any other. We had the signs up, that the restaurant would be closed the next day. There was an announcement made at the service that the mourners were welcome to join us here after, and we wanted to limit it to the people who’d known Gus well, not have casual tourists wandering in.”
She seemed perplexed, uncertain about his reasons for asking.
“I’m talking about the time just after Helen Long left the restaurant,” he said. “Do you remember anyone who might’ve left soon after she did? How about our barflies?”
Macy looked at him blankly for a moment. Her lower lip trembled slightly. “Helen’s been found. Abby saved her.”
“Yes, but another young woman is missing and Helen hasn’t been able to give us much information. I’m hoping you can help us.” He leaned on the host stand, meeting her eyes. He really had a curiously charming way about him, Abby thought. More so, perhaps, because he had no idea.
“I’d love to help you!” Macy said. “I wasn’t down here the whole time. I was going back and forth, between the restaurant and supply room. And we were so distracted that day, too. But...oh, I think both Aldous and Bootsie left in the early afternoon. And wait! Yes, I know Dirk left even before they did because he took his ship out. He worked the Black Swan’s morning and afternoon shifts because he knew he wouldn’t do either one the next day. But...I could be off on my times.”