"Nothing conclusive, but I have some leads and a couple of good contacts. You could do me a favor when you get home, Andy. Get me the name and hometown of the hotel guest who drowned. They're hushing it up over here."
Andy said, "If you find any evidence, don't waste time talking to the sheriff's department. Go right to the prosecutor. The sheriff has no background in crime fighting; he's a good administrator, that's all, and if you ask me, it was XYZ backing that got him elected. How much longer will you be here?"
"Another week."
"How's Polly enjoying her vacation? Where did you say she was going?"
"Oregon. She's having a good time."
"When are you two gonna—"
"We're not gonna, Andy, so don't plan on doing any bagpiping for us unless we kick the bucket."
"Let's mosey back to the hotel," the chief said. "The wife will be looking for me, now that she's spent all my money. Also, we have to watch the ferry schedule; they've cut back the number of crossings. They're not getting the crowds they expected. Look! Half the rocking chairs are empty. There's a rumor that the hotel may fold. Did you bear that?"
"I'm not up on my rumorology," Qwilleran said with mock apology.
"There's also a rumor that the hotel was planned to fail. Don't ask me how that works. I don't understand financial shenanigans. They say XYZ is too successful to be healthy, whatever that means."
Leaving Brodie, Qwilleran started to walk home and found himself face to face with the Moseley sisters on the boardwalk. They had just stepped out of a horse cab and were headed for the tea room.
"Oh, Mr. Qwilleran! We were just talking about you. Have you any news about our dear Elizabeth?"
"She's fine. She's back on the island. I visited her family yesterday."
"You must tell us about her. Will you join us for tea? We're leaving tomorrow." They were pleasant women, and they looked at him eagerly.
"I'd be happy to," he said, although he usually avoided tea rooms. This one was bright with posters of Scottish castles and displays of ornamental teapots. A cheery, pink-cheeked woman in a tartan apron brought a platter of shortbread and offered a choice of five teas. The Moseleys recommended a tisane, blending leaves, roots, flowers, and grasses.
Qwilleran gave them an update on their former student, and they described their vacation week. They had enjoyed the people at the inn, the sunsets, the carriage rides, and the lectures at the hotel.
"A conservation officer told us that this island was completely submerged thousands of years ago, except for the promontory where the lighthouse stands," said the one who had taught science. "Now all that's left of the wetland is the peat bog in the center of the island. I do hope they won't spray for mosquitoes. Insects, birds, frogs, snakes, turtles and all of those creatures work together to preserve the bog, which in turn preserves the quality of air and water."
"A peat bog," said the other sister, "is a mysterious miracle of nature. Did you know that a human body can sink in a bog and be perfectly preserved forever?"
Altogether, the conversation was better than the tea, although Qwilleran drank three cups of the stuff—not because he liked it, but because it was there. Later, while walking home, he formulated a new theory about the missing lightkeepers. First he thought they had been drugged with island coffee and dropped into the bog. Yet, that would require a motive on the part of the islanders, and motive was the missing piece in the puzzle.
Next, he decided that the lightkeepers had wandered into the bog themselves—but why all three of them? And what were they doing in the woods?
Stimulated by the tea blended of leaves, roots, flowers, and grasses, Qwilleran composed a scenario: The islanders had entertained the lightkeepers with tall tales about chests of pirate gold, buried in the marsh long before the Beadles, Kales, and Lawsons washed up on the shore. The lightkeepers believed the stories. Perhaps they were bored; perhaps they were greedy; perhaps they had been drinking too much ale. Whatever the reason, the head light-keeper sent an assistant to reconnoitre on one moonlit night. The fellow went out with a lantern and shovel and failed to return. The second assistant was dispatched to look for him. And finally the lightkeeper himself went in search of the other two, with the result that Trevelyan, Schmidt, and Mayfus are honored by a bronze plaque on Lighthouse Point.
That evening, the crew in Four Pips played dominoes again, and the highlight occurred when Koko made one grand swipe with his tail, knocking a dozen pieces on the floor and enabling Qwilleran to spell hijacked. Otherwise, the words were ordinary: jailed, ideal, field (again), lake (again), deface, flea (which could also be leaf), lice, bike, and feed. Then, just as Qwilleran was getting bored, he was able to spell Beadle, and that gave him an idea. He walked up the road to Harriet's cafe to get a chocolate sundae and try out his lightkeeper scenario.
