We Find What Is Lost: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 1)

Chapter Twenty-Four: Al, Sunday

Rachel placed her phone on the kitchen table and dialled Sunny with the speakerphone on so Al could listen and chime in. He heard the phone ringing on the other end as he and Rachel shared a worried glance.

Sunny answered. "Hi, Rachel, how's it going?"

"Sorry to interrupt your Sunday family time, Sunny."

"No problem, Rachel. Is Al with you?"

"Right here," Al said.

"Hey, Al. So, what's up?"

"First, tell me you don't have your speakerphone on," Rachel said. "I wouldn't want your kids hearing this."

"Just me on my headphones, no one listening in. You have me concerned, now. What's going on?"

Rachel sighed. "We're at Martha's house. We were all set to begin our work when I got the surprise of my life running into Martin Heath."

"Martin... wait a minute, is that the guy we were talking about last night?"

"Yes. Apparently he was in discussion with Martha about purchasing her property before she died. He and his realtor had come to have another chat with her, and didn't even know she was dead. I had to tell them."

"What the hell? That's a weird coincidence."

"You never saw any documents relating to a possible sale to his company, did you?"

"No, I'm sure I would have remembered if I have. This is completely out of left field; the will stipulates exactly where the house is going."

"Okay. Al thinks this isn't the last we've heard from him on this matter, and I agree, especially if he has other properties in a land assembly sewn up."

"Shit. You're probably right, there's too much money at stake. You come to me if you get any more communication from him, okay, Rachel? You're just doing your job, here, and whatever Mrs. Anderson did or did not discuss with him before her death is no responsibility of yours."

Rachel sighed in relief. "Okay. Thank you, that's very reassuring."

"Is that what you didn't want my kids to hear?"

"No, unfortunately, that was just the prelude, as significant as it was. We've only just begun a walk through, and we've found a body in the basement. Literally, a body in the basement."

Silence for a beat. Then, "You're shitting me."

"We are not."

"A dead body."

Al said, "Dead for a long time, we think. It looks like the mummified body of a baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes and bonnet. The clothes look old-fashioned, like from another era. It was actually in the coal cellar, behind a metal door."

"Jesus," he breathed.

"Yeah, or whatever god you believe in," Rachel said. Al thought she was just trying to lighten the mood, but it fell flat.

"You didn't touch it or move it, did you?" Sunny asked.

"Are you kidding?" she said. "I'm not touching any mummies."

"We left it right where it was," Al said. "Then we called you to see what we should do."

"Good call," he said. "I'm on my way. In the meantime, call the police non-emergency line and let them know what's going on."

"Oh," Rachel said. "Do you mean the New Westminster Police?"

"Yes. The body was found in a house in Queensborough, which is in New Westminster, so it's their jurisdiction. Most likely they will call the Coroner too, in case it's not a homicide. They'll also tell you to leave the house while they do their work so, I'm sorry to say, you won't be able to do any executor work in the house today."