Perkins' Ghost

CHAPTER NINE

HILL DROVE away from the seaside. Knowing that Geoff was out playing a game of golf and as much as he would have preferred to turn off at the golf course he kept the car pointed towards town. He decided that it was as good a time as any to have a chat with Katy, the costume lady. The town was abuzz with sights and sounds coming from the park. The events would be wrapped up after Canada Day celebrations and the population would shrink back into its own languid ways. Hill felt that it would be a relief and he looked forward to it. And, making matters even worse, were it not for this murder, he could be playing golf.

It had been weeks since Hill had last driven up to Moose Harbour and he was glad for the drive. He parked at the top of the hill and looked down upon the tiny harbour with its fishing shacks that lined the dock and the multi-coloured boats bobbing in the water. He loved living in that part of Nova Scotia, for at every turn there was beauty beyond words and until yesterday it was virtually crime free. Oh sure, there was the odd misdemeanor: kids sometimes took to breaking windows, Mrs. Downey's flower pots had been thrown into the river early last summer and, on a dare, some teenagers had climbed up the mounted ship's mast by the river. But for the most part it was minor stuff. The last time that there was a crime of any significance was when a guy from Cape Breton had stolen a car in the early hours of one Sunday morning in Liverpool. He had driven all the way back up to Cape Breton. The foolish lad's own car had broken down and he felt he could not be late for work the following Monday morning. The stolen car was found in Sydney Mines parked outside the kid's house, undamaged, and with a full tank of fuel. He was a very considerate thief.

Katy's house overlooked Shore Road and Moose Harbour. A long row of flowers in bloom stretched along the drive and waved in the Atlantic breeze. She was just crossing the lawn from her potting shed when Hill drove up her drive. She gave him a wave.

Katy had been doing costumes for the theatre over the past three or four decades. On account of it her eyes had taken the strain and she wore large, red coloured, wide rimmed glasses. They were most often hanging on a chain from around her neck or propped on top of her head like a pair of extra eyes. Her apparel was so exotic that it left one wondering if she was doing a dress rehearsal for a particular role herself. That day she was wearing a wide flowing flowery dress that flapped at her ankles. Bangles decorated her thick arms.

Hill parked his car and met her half way across the yard. They could have passed for brother and sister, in their stature and in the way in which they walked, except that Katy was at least twenty years his senior.

"I've got coffee on, if it takes your fancy," she said as she peered over the rims of her glasses.

"Thanks Katy, I don't mind if I do."

"Murder is a bloody sad way of getting you out for a visit."

Hill felt the same way...murder was never good, regardless of the reason, or the day of week. "I'm glad for the visit anyway."

"Just take a chair and I'll be right with you," Katy pointed to a table and two chairs in a shady area on the patio. He stood for a moment and watched the Atlantic washing the shores far below and listened to the gulls crying their raucous cries before he took the chair. Within a minute she had returned and placed the tray on the plaid coloured table cloth.

"Rain is forecast for Wednesday," she said as she poured the coffee. Neither wanted to talk about David's murder, though both knew that the subject would be discussed later on.

Hill added two sugars and a big splash of milk. "It would be a blessing, might cool it down a bit."

Neither one said anything more until the coffee was gone.