Chapter 92 - The Ghost of Penobscot Bay
I did not let go of the kettle. The cold stainless steel felt solid and grounding against my palm, an anchor keeping me rooted to the worn linoleum of my own kitchen. The man stood barely ten feet away, leaning his weight onto the polished burl of his walking stick. His hair, once dark as wet slate when we were young, was thin and snow-white, clinging to a scalp marked by old windburn.
"Alistair," I said, my voice steady despite the hammer of my pulse against my ribs. "They dragged an empty skiff out of Penobscot Bay thirty years ago. Arthur cried at your memorial. He gave your sister five thousand dollars to pay off your debts."
A dry, rustling laugh escaped his chest. "Arthur gave her that money because it was my money to begin with, Myrna. The ledger wasn't just Arthur’s retirement fund; it was our mutual insurance policy. When Vance’s people started looking for bodies in Portland back in ninety-four, dying was the only way I could stay breathing."
He stepped forward, the rubber tip of his cane squeaking against the waxed floor. The damp chill of his woolen coat brought the scent of stagnant lake water and old smoke into the room.
"You were never supposed to dig up the Tangier deposit," he continued, eyes fixing on mine. "When Caleb called Roland Vance three weeks ago whining about legal fees and property liens, Vance assumed you were just a bitter grandmother sitting on a farmhouse. He didn't know you had Arthur’s private route memorized. But I did. And now every man who ever put his signature on that paper in eighty-eight knows the vault is cracked."
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"Arthur died believing you were six fathoms deep," I said cold, setting the kettle firmly onto the cast-iron grate of the stove. "He carried the weight of your silence until his heart gave out in this very room."
"Arthur was a sentimental fool," Alistair said softly. "And sentiment gets people killed. Where is the black notebook, Myrna? Don't tell me Vance took it, and don't tell me the marshals have it. You wouldn't hand that kind of leverage to a badge."
