Lost Cause (A Daisy Dunlop Mystery ~ Book 1)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Daisy stretched and yawned. She'd been on the Internet for hours. The vegetarian lasagna she'd heated up was long gone. A dirty plate in the middle of the coffee table was the only evidence she'd eaten anything.

A saxophone wailed softly in the background. She'd found Solomon's extensive library of tunes and even mastered his digital computerized sound system. Smoky jazz set the scene for Paul's arrival which was, she glanced at the clock, another hour away. The fire was starting to die down. She got to her feet, opened the fire's glass door and shoved in some logs from the basket before giving the embers a poke. The air filled with the sound of crackling as the flames leapt back to life.

The whiteboard stood in the corner of the room. She crossed to look at it. She'd thought the link had to be the Somerset Club or Langdon College but, while she had no doubt they had something to do with it, all the evidence was pointing to Anthony the Abbot. Her online research had brought up a newspaper report of Frank Mayberry's brother going missing back in the late eighties. Two out of three of the apparent deaths they were investigating having links to homeless people seemed a big coincidence. Without seeing Frank's will she couldn't be sure the charity benefited from his estate, but she'd put money on it. Giles Beckitt was connected through Maureen and probably left the charity a legacy as well.

She'd wondered why a legitimate charity would be caught up in something as sordid as an insurance scam. A cursory look at their online financial reports showed some strange anomalies, including large payments to businesses that were owned by trustees. There was a singular lack of detail about the services those companies provided to the homeless on behalf of Anthony the Abbot. The charity also owned a large property in the Canary Islands, along with a salubrious yacht supposedly used for rehab. She added some notes to the white board. Until Solomon got home she was stuck. As far as she could tell she'd exhausted all the information she was going to get off the Internet.

She took a seat on the sofa, lifted the mouse, and wondered how to pass the time. Maybe she'd do some research into Solomon. She made the assumption he had his mother's surname not his father's, as he was adamant he didn't know the man. A quick search for his mam's name brought up a death notice in the Belfast Telegraph. Her name, Etian Liffey, was unusual, and that had made it easy. She scanned the notice. Solomon was the only named relative. Daisy placed the laptop on the coffee table and went through to the kitchen to grab the notepad and pen Solomon kept on the counter. On her return she wrote down his mother's address.

She sat and chewed the end of the pen. Should she go any further? He must have read his own birth certificate. He would have needed it to do all sorts of things. She topped up her wine glass and took a sip. Solomon might know full well who'd fathered him but was afraid of rejection, in which case she could make the first move and see if the man was willing to recognize the child he'd created.

After placing her glass back on the table she took a deep breath and opened the website that allowed you to order a Northern Irish birth certificate. She filled in all the details. The only question that gave her pause for thought was why she wanted a copy. She typed in that she was his spouse. They weren't married, but they were partners of sorts, even if it had never, and would never, be anything more than in a business sense. Once the application was complete she hit the final button. The moment of truth arrived, but the message on the screen made her sigh with frustration. How could he not have a birth certificate? She went back to the beginning and started over. Same result. Apparently Solomon either wasn't born in Northern Ireland, or his mother had moved over the years.

A loud trill, and the buzz and clatter of her phone dancing across the coffee table, made her jump. "Shit."

She grabbed it and checked caller ID before hitting accept and holding it to her ear. "Paul."