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“Amy, that envelope could have been taped inside the lid at any time during the past week, or even the past month. Hell, it could have been left there sometime during the past year, for all we know. No one checks the inside of a toilet tank unless the toilet acts up.”
“You’re going to be difficult about this, aren’t you.”
“I’m going to be careful. Methodical. I’m going to take it one step at a time. That’s the way I do things, Amy.”
“Hmm.” Amy folded her arms on the picnic table and glumly surveyed Villantry Park. She and Owen had come here to discuss their next move, but so far all they had done was argue about it.
They were seated at a table located near a magnificent mass of rhododendron bushes. The stately Raymond C. Villantry Memorial Public Library was at the far end of the park. The Villantry Inn was on the opposite side. There was a bandstand in the center.
A pond, complete with ducks and a couple of geese, added eye appeal to the attractive setting. Banners announcing fireworks hung over the entrance of the park.
Amy was frustrated by Owen’s approach to this startling new development in the case. On the other hand, she had to admit that he was the expert.
“All right. Hypothetically speaking,” she said, making an effort to sound reasonable, “what sort of scenario do we construct to explain that envelope you found?”
Owen raised one black brow. “Hypothetically speaking, I’d say that it looks as if Arthur Crabshaw is being blackmailed.”
“Blackmail.”Amy tasted the word with a sense of dreadful wonder. “Holy cow.”
Owen fingered the envelope in his hand. “It’s conceivable that he’s been told to leave the money in the men’s room of the library. Think about it. Anyone can go into a public library at any time when it’s open. A person can hang around for hours, a whole day even, without anyone taking much notice. The victim can leave the money at any time. The blackmailer can pick up the payoff whenever he feels like it.”
Amy peered at him as she digested that. “You do realize what this means.”
“Why do I have the impression that you’re about to enlighten me?”
She ignored that. “It means Crabshaw really does have some deep, dark secret. Something he’s hiding from my aunt. Something that is worth paying blackmail to conceal.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean, maybe?”
“It’s a possibility,” Owen conceded. “That’s all I’m willing to admit at this point. I will, however, add the simple observation that the blackmailer is probably male. Which does eliminate approximately half the people in town.”
“Male? Oh, yes, of course. The payoffs are being left in the men’s restroom. So whoever goes in to retrieve them is probably of the masculine persuasion. Right. Good thinking.”
“I try,” Owen said.
“All right, Mr. Hotshot PI, what do we do next?”
“We follow Plan A.”
“Which is?”
“We wait for some of my morning phone calls to be returned. I want a little more information in hand before I confront Crabshaw.”
Amy’s mouth went dry. “You’re going to confront him?”
“Sometimes a surprise frontal assault is the quickest way to get an answer. I’ll pin him down this afternoon.”
Amy hesitated. “Shouldn’t we go to the cops or something?”
“With what? A handful of money that we happened to find in the men’s room? There’s no way in hell to prove that it’s a blackmail payoff. They’d probably put an ad in theVillantry Gazetteinviting someone to claim it.”
“I see what you mean,” Amy said. “But confronting Crabshaw could be dangerous. If he’s so desperate to protect his secret that he’s willing to pay blackmail, he won’t take kindly to your questions. He might become violent.”
Owen smiled slightly. “I don’t believe this. Are you actually worried about me?”
“Yes, of course I am. I’ve hired you to solve this case. I would feel terrible if something happened to you.”
