The Coffin Maker

Chapter 24

Edmond Crowley steered the Mercedes through the main gates of the estate. Bunny Crowley was having tea with friends in the conservatory when she saw her husband's car pull up to the garage where he kept his classic cars. Usually when he returned from golf, he parked at the house, brought in his golf clubs and walked across the lawn to visit 'his girls' as he called his beloved vehicles. Through the glass walls of the conservatory, she watched him get out and enter through an end door. He was in a hurry; he left the car door open. Bunny wondered if something was wrong when the phone rang. She apologized to her friends and excused herself to answer the call.

***

In the men's locker room at the golf club, Yarden Hoffhsire stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel to dry himself, dressed and headed to the lounge. He checked his phone for any recent calls or missed messages and noticed that James Blackwood had called. He scrolled to Blackwood's number and placed a call.

"Hello Blackwood. It's Yarden Hoffshire. Did you call?"

"Yes, we just spoke...you're at the golf club," said Blackwood.

"Edmond must have answered," said Hoffshire. "I was in the shower."

Blackwood felt foolish. He'd been duped. "Where is Crowley now?" he asked.

"In the lounge, I expect," said Hoffshire, "hold on, I'm nearly there."

Blackwood could hear Hoffshire asking other golfers if they had seen Crowley. He listened while the bartender told Hoffshire that Crowley had left."

"Apparently, he's already gone," said a surprised Hoffshire. "I'll let you know when I locate him." Hoffshire ordered a gin and tonic and sat at a table with some club members. He called Bunny Crowley to inquire if Edmond was home.

"Bunny, it's Yarden calling. Is Edmond at home? He left the course abruptly and he's not answering his cell phone."

"Yes, he just came home, Yarden," said Bunny. "He's at the garage. I'll get him to call you when he comes to the house. Do you want me to walk over and get him? Is it important?"

"No, nothing urgent," said Hoffshire. "I wanted to make sure everything was okay, that's all."

"Yes, everything's fine," said Bunny who, after being married to Edmond Crowley for more than twenty years and understood his every idiosyncrasy thought otherwise. Unsettled by Hoffshire's call, she wished her company would leave. She felt some relief when Edmond got back in his car and drove up to the house. She expected him to poke his head in at any moment and give a greeting. Instead, she heard him in the library. He headed back to the garage holding something in his hand that he had retrieved. She watched closely while he re-entered the garage. How odd, she thought, he left the car door open again.

Edmond Crowley knew time was too short to watch his video of Ailsa. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt slightly out of breath. He started the engine of the 1934 Packard Super Eight and moved the vehicle back a few feet. He got out, walked around the front of the car and descended the cement stairs of the vehicle pit. It was dark and the dampness oozed from the walls. At the bottom, he opened the hidden door to his secret world.

***

Loosely based on the number of episodes of half-hour television shows, adjusted for sleep time, Ailsa Craig estimated that the last contact with their captor Edmond Crowley was two days ago. She had to admit he was a clever criminal. He had patterned his M.O. so closely to his groundskeeper it would throw off any investigator. Riley's description of his bandaged thumb was the evidence she needed to confirm the Coffin Maker's identity. She wondered if James Blackwood and Li Li Wu would follow the clues on her flowchart. The feeling of not knowing was the worst. Were they close or had they given up? She looked at the sleeping Riley and thought about the outside world finding the next coffins...another news story; breaking news until toppled by coverage of a bigger story, a plane crash or a terrorist attack somewhere in the world. She thought about her mom and dad and her brother and visualized her family hovering over a gravesite at the cemetery in Paynesville. She hoped her mom would opt for cremation and spread her ashes on the farm, in the shade where the oak forest bordered the pasture. The end would not be long now. She and Riley had sipped the last of the water scooped from the bath with the plastic containers. Ailsa was sorry that she hadn't soaked all their clothes and the bedding in the bath water before Edmond Crowley drained it. They could have squeezed the lifeblood liquid from the articles and lived for a few more days.