Alan pushed by his mom and Matt and slithered down the rope ladder to join his Aunt Isobella. When his aunt turned and walked away, Alan defiantly flicked Matt the bird before running after her.
A wall of silence dropped between Matt and Susan as they faced each other. The screen door slapped rhythmically in the breeze against the treehouse’s siding. He felt a sudden uptick in the breeze against his skin, a signal of its intent, as it grabbed the opened screen portal and slammed it shut. The inner door, wide open, made several jabbing punches that landed softly against the inside table rocking it to and fro. Matt noticed a row of plants rattling in their planters upon the stand’s surface.
With an askance look, Susan’s right eyebrow raised as she cleared the wayward strands of hair blowing in the breeze across her face. “You should not be here! You know full well your warrant does not cover my son’s treehouse. If I didn’t know better, Matt, I would think you’re trying to intimidate my son. Are you! Shame on you if you are! Now, come on, down you go!” She pointed in the direction of the wood ladder behind the treehouse.
Matt let out an exasperated sigh. “I’d hope you know me better than that. I only wanted to talk to Alan, nothing more.”
“About what?”
Matt stepped around Susan and peered through the screen. “First, may I have a closer look at these plants inside?” He knew if she acquiesced it would keep any future search warrant valid. He held his breath and waited.
With pursed lips it was as if she was in deep thought. Several seconds passed before she nodded.
“Thank you, Susan.” He entered the treehouse and peered around. A used pair of prophylactic gloves sat askew on a roughly hewn wooden chair. Nothing else stood out at first inspection except the plants. He pulled a stapled 3-page document that had been folded lengthwise from his inside jacket pocket. Flipping each page, he compared each plant against the photos and written information on each page while being careful not to touch the plants nor get too close. When he was finished, he returned the document to the inside of his jacket and rejoined Susan. “I’m pretty sure those plants are Monkshood, but I’ll have to get expert verification. Any idea why he would have them?”
Susan glanced away toward the back fields of the estate; her gaze appeared stuck in some far-off horizon. When her attention finally returned to him, she quietly said, “I don’t know.” But the eye contact they had shared before was absent.
Walking back to the house, Matt asked, “Do you know what Alan writes in that diary he carries with him? It seems like a constant companion.”
Susan stopped to face him. “There’s more than one, actually several. I know he keeps them hidden in his room and, no matter how many times I’ve tried, I’ve never been able to find them.”
“So, you have no idea what’s in them?”
She sighed. “None. Except to say, he fancies himself a photographer and processes his own shots. So, I’d bet that some of those diaries contain photos he’s taken.”
“Photos of what?”
She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Where does he process them?”
“He sets up the bathroom off his bedroom as the darkroom. Why?”
Matt thought for a second. “Is there a way to enter the house without us being seen so we have easy access to his room?”
She took his hand. “Come with me round the back. The door is rarely used and may be locked but I know where the key is hidden.”
Just before Matt followed Susan along the side of the house, he noticed that Mark Dale had arrived and was standing out front in conversation with Isobella. She was pointing in their direction, but it was obvious she did not see them.
Five minutes later Susan and he had climbed the rear staircase to the top floor and were standing outside Alan’s bedroom. No one was in the long hallway and there was silence beyond Alan’s closed door.
“Let me go ahead first in case he’s in there,” Susan whispered.
“And if he is?”
“You stay put until I call you. Please, Matt, do as I ask.”
He nodded his agreement.
She tapped on the door. Hearing no answer, she tapped again. Turning the door handle, she opened the door stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.
Matt had stepped back into the shadows and made a call on his cell. “Sergeant. It doesn’t matter where I am right now. Listen! Is the young boy with you? Good! Keep him there until I arrive. Mark Dale is outside with the boy’s aunt.” He listened intently to Sergeant Gupta’s reply. “So, the aunt’s with you and the others? Where’s Mark Dale?” He had no sooner finished his question when Susan vacated her son’s room in a panic. “Sergeant! Find him! Now!” And he disconnected. “Susan what’s wrong?!”
“It’s Alan’s treehouse!” She rushed by him and began to scurry down the staircase along which they had just come.
“Susan!” Matt followed in fast pursuit, losing his footing on the first step in his frenzied attempt to keep up with her.
“It’s on fire!” she yelled back.