Sayling Away

SAYLINGAWAY

SHORTS, NOVELS, AND OTHER THINGS

Author name: Sayling@@Away

Sheepdogs and University Students…and More Ruins

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Our next stop, on the following day was the village of Kincraig, where we watched a sheepdog demonstration. These dogs are the very smart, athletic, and energetic border collies and we watched Ian Ross, the sheepherder, put them through their paces. There were lots of dogs, including some beautiful and friendly puppies, and I got to try shearing a sheep and also feeding a little one. The sheepherder has been a tenant on this farm for over 50 years, which means he does not own either the sheep or the land and is only allowed to live there by the landlord’s largess. He told us none of his five children were interested in following in his footsteps, and I wondered where he would go when his working days were done. Happiness is a warm puppy. We ended our day in the legendary St. Andrews, staying at the Old Course Hotel on the famous golf course. After a very comfortable night, where we toured part of the golf course, ending up in front of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club behind the 18th green. It was founded in 1754. A person can golf there, but you have to be invited and have a handicap of 6 or less. After exiting the famous greens, we visited the ruins of St. Andrews Cathedral. It was built in 1158 and became the center of the medieval Catholic Church in Scotland. The largest church to have been built in Scotland, it fell into disuse and ruin after Catholic mass was outlawed during the 16th-century Scottish Reformation. There was a lot of mist that morning which made our photos eerie. After the cathedral, we walked around the medieval town, along the waterfront, and saw the ruins of St Andrews Castle, a bishop’s palace, a fortress and a state prison during its 450-year history. Today it is just a picturesque ruin, situated on a rocky promontory overlooking Castle Sands and the North Sea. It was the main residence of the bishops of the cathedral and was first built at the end of the 12th century. In 1592, it was abandoned following the abolition of bishops in Scotland, after which it partially collapsed, leaving behind the remains of the outer walls and the castle entrance. Later that morning we visited St. Andrews University. The students had just arrived for the semester and wore their typical red gowns, lending a lot of color to the streets and the university quads. Whether the gown is worn on both shoulders, one shoulder, or no shoulders indicates what year the student is. Both shoulders is a first year. Second-year students wear the gown slightly back off their shoulders. Third-year students wear the gown either fully off the right shoulder if studying science or the left shoulder if studying arts. Fourth-year students (magistrands) wear the gown off both shoulders, across the elbows. From the St. Andrew’s University Newsletter 1 0

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There’s Never a Shortage of Castles in Scotland

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The next part of our tour took us to the ruins of Urquart Castle, one of Scotland’s most popular attractions. The castle ruins sit on the edge of Loch Ness and date from the  13th to the 16th centuries, though built on the site of an earlier medieval fortification. Founded in the 13th century, Urquhart played a role in the series of military campaigns fought between the kingdoms of Scotland and England in the late 13th and 14th centuries. Urquhart was partially destroyed in 1692 to prevent its use by Jacobite forces and subsequently decayed. The walled portion of the castle is shaped roughly like a figure-8 along the bank of the loch, forming two enclosures or bailies: the Nether Bailey to the north, and the Upper Bailey to the south. The curtain walls of both enclosures date largely to the 14th century. The northern bailey is where most of the remaining structures are located I was particularly interested in the old model of a trebuchet on the grounds. The trebuchet is a type of catapult that uses a rotating arm with a sling attached to the tip to launch a projectile. It was a common powerful and common siege engine that was probably used against the castle. From the shore line of the castle, we took a ferry the length of Loch Ness. Although I spent my time scanning the water for Nessie, the Loch Ness monster, I didn’t get a glimpse of her. The idea is that Nessie is actually a large sea snake and not a modern day plesiosaur. First of all, plesiosaur were not fresh water creatures and second, a lot of snake DNA has been gathered from Loch Ness. After debarking from the ferry, we got back on the bus for our trip to Culloden Moor. The story of Culloden is well-known: the site of the last battle of the Jacobite uprising in 1746, more than one thousand Highlanders lost their lives in the span of one hour. In retribution for the uprising, King George II had most of the clans slaughtered and their homes destroyed. This marked the end of the clan system in Scotland. Culloden itself is just a large field where the lines of the Highlanders and the English are marked by red and blue flags. It is somber and peaceful. We enjoyed the museum and the demonstration by one of the guides of what each side wore for uniforms, the weapons used, and the type of fighting. The next day took us to Dunrobin Castle, a breathtaking mid-19th-century edifice that began as a tower keep in the 14th century. The architect of the Houses of Parliament in London did the remodeling, along with gardens designed in the fashion of Versailles. The Castle, which resembles a French château with its towering conical spires sits on the east coast of the Northern Highlands overlooking the Moray Firth. A special treat was a demonstration of falconry by the in-house falconer. Several different types of falcons, an owl and a golden eagle were on display on their perches and he showed us the hunting skills of a Harris hawk and the peregrine falcon and how he works with them when he goes hunting. In the afternoon, we made a stop that had Hubs grinning from ear to ear – the Glenmorangie whisky distillery. We listened to the guide describe how the whisky was created and distilled and then had a whisky tasting to round up the tour. The company has half a million barrels of whisky aging on site. One thing we noticed is that all the trees around the distillery were black. This is a result of the distillate that escapes during the process, called the Angel’s Share. 0 0

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Over the Sea to Skye

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  The next day we left for the Highlands, my favorite part of the tour. I was happy to be seated for part of the day on the bus, and we particularly enjoyed our driver, Mark, who was kind enough to stop for picture opportunities and took such good care of our things. Driving that huge bus took a lot of skill, which I admired from my front seat.  We stopped to admire and photograph Loch Lomond, Great Britain’s largest freshwater lake, and take in The Trossachs National Park, which gradually gave way from lowlands to high mountains, laced with lochs, rivers, and estuaries. Scotland is a very watery place. Then we visited the area of Glencoe, surrounded by deep valleys, rushing rivers, and waterfalls. Excavations are ongoing of the site of the Massacre of Glencoe in 1692, in which 38 members of the Clan MacDonald were killed by forces acting on behalf of the government of King William III, who doubted their loyalty to their Protestant king. The Clan had fed the soldiers and given them shelter for nearly two weeks before they turned on their hosts, in an act of ultimate treachery. (Image credit: Culture Club/Getty Images) The following day, we stopped at the Glenfinnan Monument, honoring Bonnie Prince Charlie (Charles Edward Stuart, pretender to the throne) and recognizing his leadership, poor though it was, of the Jacobite Rising of 1745. On the 19th of that year, Prince Charles Edward Stuart rowed up Loch Shiel (visible in the photo) towards the tiny hamlet of Glenfinnan with a small band of his most loyal supporters. He had called on clan chiefs to muster their men and join him here for a daring quest to restore the Stuarts to the British throne. Ultimately 1200 clansmen joined him. The rising ended in defeat at Culloden in 1746 and the Highlands suffered punishment and reprisals for years to come, including the total destruction of the clan system.  The Glenfinnan viaduct is nearby and can be seen after a breathless hike up the hill behind the monument (we were given 15 minutes), which I chose not to take, although my husband did. This is NOT a photo we took, but you will perhaps recognize it as the famous bridge crossed by the Hogwarts Express steam train in the Harry Potter movies. After the stop, we traveled on to Malaig, where the bus boarded a ferry for Armadale on the southern tip of the Isle of Skye, the largest of the Inner Hebrides with stunning scenery. The ferry trip was a might chilly, so most of us stayed inside the ferry! We were then driven to Armadale Castle and Gardens, built in the 18th century and home of Clan Macdonald. The castle was abandoned in 1925, but the gardens are beautifully maintained. This last is the view from the front of the castle, would have always been approached from the water, because this was the home of a Highland Clan chief. After lunch, we drove through Skye’s Black Cuillin Hills and returned to the mainland over the magnificent Skye Bridge (obviously not my photo) for a visit to the iconic Eilean Donan Castle, which sits on a small tidal island at the confluence of three lochs and dates to the 13th century. The name Eilean Donan or island of Donan, is most probably called after the 6th century Irish Saint, Bishop Donan who came to Scotland around 580 AD. The castle was built as a protective measure against the Vikings who raided, settled, and controlled much of the North of Scotland and the Western Isles between 800 and 1266. Over the centuries, the castle itself has expanded and contracted in size. Its role in the Jacobite rising ultimately culminated in the castle’s destruction. What remained of the castle after three days of bombardment by armed English frigates was blown up by the British following a surrender.  For the best part of 200 years, the stark ruins of Eilean Donan lay neglected, abandoned and open to the elements, until Lt Colonel John Macrae-Gilstrap bought the island in 1911 and restored the castle according to surviving plans.   The castle is entered from the south, via a modern portal complete with a portcullis. Above the door is a Gaelic inscription which in translation reads: “As long as there is a Macrae inside, there will never be a Fraser outside”, referring to a bond of kinship between the two clans. The portal gives access to the courtyard. The keep itself, which we visited, follows the original dimensions, though the formerly subdivided ground floor is now a single room: a tunnel-vaulted Billeting Hall. Above on the first floor is the Banqueting Hall with an oak ceiling and decorated with coats of arms and 15th-century style fireplace Gene and I decided this was a good place for a picture of our tired selves. 1 0

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A Day in Glascow

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Our tour actually began on the day we met with everyone in Glasgow, with a visit to the National Piping Centre for a demonstration by a Master Piper. Bagpipes are loud! But I learned that bagpipes probably got their origin in the Middle East.             The next morning we set off by bus to visit not one, not two, but three museums. Along the way, I noted that the city had a lot of Victorian-era buildings of red and blond sandstone. Our first stop was the Burrell Collection, which houses 9000 pieces of art spanning six millennia. We were treated to an early entry to a Degas exhibit with 23 Degas works from Burrell’s original collection together in one place. I recommend this exhibit to anyone in Glasgow since it traces the development of Degas as a painter and sculptor. Then we wandered through the overwhelming collection of art in the main museum. I was so overwhelmed I only took a few – a relatively poor – pictures. After that, we went to the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, with 22 galleries with 8000 objet d’art. Here my legs gave out, but I had a grand time sitting in the enormous atrium listening to an organ recital.             Our final museum of the day was the Zaha-Hadid Riverside Museum, which showcases the city’s transport, ship building and engineering history. I had restored myself enough to walk amongst the antique cars, boats and trams, but especially liked the way the spectacularly engineered modern museum opened onto the River Clyde. Just outside on the river. Glasgow’s tall ship, the Glenlee is moored. This British sail-powered cargo vessel was also an Italian ship of mystery and a training ship for the Spanish Navy over its 127 year history. A long day for someone unused to walking more than 2-3 miles a day! 1 0

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To Scotland and Some Stiff Walking

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After a five year delay in taking this trip (our original deposit was still there this year!) due to Covid and grandchildren, Hubs and I bit the bullet and made the trans-Atlantic flight, meeting my daughter and family in Edinburgh four days before the trip began. I’d forgotten how tired the time difference made you, but my daughter only scheduled two tours a day to account for that and our advancing years. This is the entrance to Edinburgh Castle. A steep walk uphill all the way to the top, with gorgeous views and lots of history. The second picture was taken from the end of the street where our hotel was located. You can see why the castle was never taken, although parts were blown away by cannon fire. The volcanic rock on which it sits offers a naturally defended position, with sheer cliffs to north and south. This is Mons Meg, a six-ton cannon that could fire 500-pound balls for two miles. It was a gift from Duke Philip of Burgundy to King James II of Scotland. My grandson told me he could crawl inside! This is the back of a barracks at the top of the castle – looks like it would be interesting inside, but not. This ;picture was taken in the great hall at the top of the castle complex. Lots of armor and swords etc. This was NOT Queen Mary’s primary residence – she preferred Holyrood Castle at the other end of the Royal Mile – warmer and more comfortable. But she gave birth to James I of Scotland ( who was also James Vi of England) here, because of concerns for her safety. The views from the top breath-taking (as was the climb!). We also took a long taxi ride to Midhope Castle, which is derelict but intact on the outside. Does anyone recognize Lallybroch from Outlander? Then a tortuous and expensive taxi ride to find Hopetoun House, another Outlander site. The house was built 1699–1701 and the south wing of the house is occupied by the family of Adrian Hope, 4th Marquess of Linlithgow. First seen as the Duke of Sandringham’s home, Hopetoun House has been used in seasons 1, 2 and 3 of Outlander, to recreate scenes in Scotland, England and Paris. We had a great lunch outside the original stables and enjoyed the glamorous surroundings, gardens, and manor. The following day we visited HRM Britannia, the Royal Yacht of Queen Elizabeth II for over 44 years, travelling the world and hosting state events. Today, she is a five-star museum and events venue in Edinburgh, Scotland. We had high tea to celebrate my birthday on the Fingal, a companionship to Britannia where people can book to stay. The food was overwhelming and we slept with tight bellies that night. On Sunday we had to find our own way to Glasgow, where our tour began the next morning, so we said goodbye to the family and discovered the clean and efficient Scottish bus system. More to come… 1 0

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The Lemon Cookie Catastrophe

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This is a story I posted way back in 2014, so probably many of my readers haven’t seen it. It’s part of a collection of stories called Growing Up Pilgrim that I hope to publish one day. One of the last times my father used a switch on my brother’s and my posteriors resulted from what we later called the lemon cookie catastrophe. My father had an addiction to lemon frosted cookies, and every other week my mother would bring home a package of the sweet treats with the groceries. The catastrophe occurred because both Jay and I also loved those cookies and tended to sneak them when no one was looking. The cookies were stored in a metal bread box on the counter by the back door, which made its position perfect for a strike and run. As a result, the number of lemon cookies in the bag would diminish rapidly in just a few days, much to my father’s displeasure. “Who ate the lemon cookies?” Dad would ask in exasperation each time. “Noelle did,” Jay would answer. “Jay did,” I would reply. Finally, Dad’s patience wore out. Tired of never knowing who was to be punished for eating his cookies, he found a solution. “The next time I find that anyone has been eating my cookies, you will both be switched.” Sure enough, the following week he went to grab a cookie after dinner and found the bag had only one. “That’s it,” he roared and asked Jay and me who ate his cookies. “I didn’t, I swear,” I vowed. “I didn’t eat your cookies this time,” answered Jay tearfully, knowing what was coming. Nevertheless, Dad cut a green switch from the back yard forsythia, returned to the kitchen and gave both Jay and me a thorough licking, energized by the fact that he was tired of our lying. Mom came in from the drying area with a pile of clothes in her arms and found me sitting on the back steps, crying. I followed her into the kitchen, wailing about being punished for something I didn’t do. “What’s going on here, John?” Mom asked. “I’m tired of those kids lying about eating the lemon cookies,” he answered, “so this time they both got switched.” “Oh dear,” Mom sighed. “I forgot to tell you that the bridge club was here this afternoon and I served them the lemon cookies.” I remember wailing even louder about the unfairness of it all and not surprisingly, got ordered to my room. I left, but not before I heard Dad say, “Well, shit.” 0 0

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It’s So Easy to Get a New Driver’s License

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About three months ago, I received at notice that I needed to renew my driver’s license. “No sweat,” says Hubs. “Just go on line – you can renew it there.” I go online. Turns out since I renewed online the last time, I have to present myself in person this time. The notice then sits in my bag for two and a half months. With my birthday coming around next month, I finally force myself to go to a DMV office. “No sweat,” says Hubs. “There’s a DMV office just ten minutes from here.” So we drive over to the nearby DMV, stand in line and discover they don’t renew licenses there, only license plates, and they give me the address to the nearest DMV office that does. “No sweat,” says Hubs. “We’ll drive over this afternoon. You can pick up your passport so you can get the new REAL ID license you’ll need to board domestic flights after next May.” We drive over to the recommended DMV office. There are fifty people waiting outside and we’re told there are fifty inside and there’s no possibility I can renew my license that day. “No sweat,” says Hubs. “Go online and book an appointment.” So when we get home, I go online. There are no appointments available at any DMV within a fifty mile radius. The following morning, appointments open up for October. “No sweat,” says Hubs. “We’ll just go to the office in Hillsborough. I went there and it only took 45 minutes.” I notice that walk-ins for license renews can only be done after noon and given the number of people we saw at the last office, we need to leave early in the morning to get in line. We leave really late because Hubs didn’t get home from work until 2 AM. Arriving at the Hillsborough DMV, I notice about twenty people in line. It’s been pouring rain all morning and they are standing under an overhang behind a low brick wall trying not to get wet. “Is this the line for the walks-ins?” I ask. “Yes, and it will be a long wait,” is the reply. I join the line. At noon, about ten people from the line are allowed in, and a woman comes out and gives the rest of us each  a sticky note with a number on it. Mine is 12. “What do I do now?” I ask the young man in front of me. “Wait,” he says. “Then they will let you in and you can get a number to be served.” “I already have a number.” “This is another number generated by a QR code that you photograph when your number is called.” I wait another hour and eventually get in to photograph the QR code and am told I have probably two hours before I will be notified by text message that I can enter the building. “No sweat,” says Hubs. “I know a good place for barbecue not far from here. We can get something to eat.” We do! Sitting in the car, since it is still raining cats and dogs, I have hot hush puppies for lunch while he downs a large cup of Brunswick stew. Then back to the DMV. We sit, we wait. Finally, around 2:30 PM, I get a notice to come in. I enter, I sit, I wait. Every few minutes, a loudspeaker comes on and jolts us all from our seats, announcing a number. I wait for mine to be called. An hour later, it still isn’t. Then a woman comes out from the inner sanctum and announces it. Seems the loudspeaker is no longer working. AT LAST. I reach the inner sanctum. Processing begins but the computers are going in and out. So I sit and wait and wait. My picture gets taken – I look like a dork. I take an eye exam, which is impossible to read because the letters are blanked out on the right-hand side. Finally, everything is done and I get a slip of paper to use for my license in case the real one doesn’t get to me before my birthday. “No sweat,” says Hubs, when I get in the car. It’s stopped raining. “Let’s go home and have a drink.” 1 0

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The M&M’s Mystery, Part 4 – Who Did It?

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    I gave Tony the eyeball at breakfast the next morning, and when he came over I told him what we wanted. He came to our room a few minutes later.     “Norma? I can give you a lot of dirt on Norma.” He hadn’t failed to notice Little Debbies Mildred held in her hands.     “We really want to talk to you about something else. Sit down, please,” I said, as sternly as I could muster.     “Well, I do need to get back.”     “Sit down or I’ll scream,” Mildred said. He immediately sat, and we both faced him. “You know we’ve been trying to figure out who killed Redwine.”     “Yeah, and you haven’t gotten anywhere or you wouldn’t be pumping me for information.”     “We have gotten somewhere. We think you did it,” I said.       Tony stared at us. He didn’t blink, didn’t look down or up or right or left, and his face remained frozen in a pleasant neutral. Then he laughed, a loud, snorting guffaw. “Me? Why would you think that?”     We focused on his face as I said, “We googled you and you’re a ghost. You have no address, no driver’s license, no family, no history. What are you, an assassin? In witness protection?”     “You two are bat shit crazy if you think I had anything to do with Mr. Redwine’s murder. Why would I want to kill him? You can’t prove I did it, because I didn’t. Look, if there’s nothing else, I have a lot to do this morning.” He stood, winked at us, and left, but not without taking the Little Debbies.     “Hardly what I expected,” Mildred commented. “Did you see any tells? Do you think he lied?”     “I didn’t see a smidgen of a response. Not a blink, a twitch, or an eye roll. And I still think he did it. What about you?”     “Me, too, but I give up, Miriam. We got nothing and he’s not going to tell us anything. I can’t think of where to go from here. Even if it’s not Tony, the murderer may still be here.”    Mildred’s word chilled me, and we put a chair under the door knob at night. ******     Two months elapsed, and Redwine’s murder remained unsolved. The police had interviewed everyone and finally stopped coming around with questions. Tony, bless his soul, still thought our suspicion of him was hilarious and apparently forgave us, because he remained accommodating to our needs and as nice as ever.     We didn’t stop trying to find something, anything about him, slyly probing Norma to no avail and making a failed, middle-of-the-night attempt to get a look at employee files.     More deaths occurred, but only the usual from usual natural causes – old age, dementia, pneumonia. Mildred and I stayed healthy, until she didn’t. She developed a wracking cough and a high fever, and Norma finally called an ambulance. After the attendants lifted her onto a gurney and wrapped her in blankets, she asked them to wait outside, she needed to tell me something in private.     They left our room, and she began coughing again, exhausted from the effort. I took her hand, and looked down at her, feeling indescribable grief.     “Living with you has been the most fun I’ve had in years, Miriam,” she said. “I’m pretty sure I’m not coming back, and I need to tell you something.”     I leaned down to hear her weak voice. “That we’re eventually going to meet up again in a place better than this?” I asked her.       Mildred smiled and shook her head, coughing.     By now tears streamed down my cheeks. “I love you, kiddo, and my life will be empty with you gone. You’d better get well.”     “Buck up, cream puff,” she said. “I need to tell you something. You know those lawsuits against Redwine? Follow up on that composer. The one who lost his lawsuit.”     The attendants came back in the room. “Love you, too,” Mildred rasped as they wheeled her out.     I collapsed in our chair by the window, drained and crying, and only roused when Norma insisted I come to lunch. I don’t remember what I ate. I only knew Mildred wasn’t in the seat beside me.     I dragged through the next two days, asking Norma over and over if she’d heard anything from the hospital. To her credit, she did call and ask, but had nothing to report. On the third day, she came to my room before breakfast. I knew the minute she entered what she would say. ******     The next day, my emotions more in control, I sat down at the desk and turned on the computer, then pulled out the notes Mildred had taken in her neat handwriting. Seeing them, my tears started again. I found and Googled the name of the composer who had sued Redwine: Shaunessey, first name Patrick. Found him. I read picked out the two best sources of information about him, Wikipedia and his obituary. According to Wikipedia, he was indeed a classical music composer of some renown, one who had bankrupted himself suing Redwine for stealing one of his pieces. It was entitled The Red Herring Sonata.     I skipped over his early life and the family connections and moved on to the obituary. There I discovered what Mildred wanted me to know: Patrick X. Shaunessey, beloved of his wife Mildred, nee Wrightnour, professor emerita of biology at Boston University. I hope you enjoyed my short mystery! 1 0

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The M&M’s Mystery Part 3

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Over the next week, Mildred and I sat with as many different residents as possible during meals and spent time in the common room – learning names and room numbers and if they had any connection to Redwine. Turned out the gossip mill continued to churn merrily, so that last query generated a lot of discussion.     In the midst of this, Nurse Wretched came to the table where I ate lunch, leaned over and spoke quietly in my ear, “I can see what you and Mildred are doing.”     Oh, Lord, we’ve been caught!     “I think it is extremely nice of you and Mildred to get to know all our residents better. I wish there were more like you.”     My stomach descended into place, and after mumbling “Thanks,” I downed a glass of lemonade while my heart rate returned to normal. After lunch, I told Mildred what Norma had said to me.     “She told me the same thing. I thought I would die right there with my face in the plate.” She laughed. “And we had gravy on the turkey and mashed potatoes!”     “Okay, so Norma is fine with us. Let’s take stock of where we are.”    We had both taken copious notes and over the next hour, we managed to eliminate all but two people. “I almost wish we had a larger suspect pool,” Mildred said, as we crossed off the last name.       “We’ve forgotten the people who work here! Norma, for example, and the receptionist, the nursing aides, and even Tony.”     “Tony? Surely not!”     “Well, think about it. He’d be happy for us to blame anyone other than him, so it would be in his interest to be helpful.” I paused at that moment and luckily I did, because right then, Tony appeared at our door with the list of Redwine’s and Massey’s visitors for the last three months.     “How’s your investigation going, ladies?”     “We’ve managed to winnow down the likely suspects. Thanks for this list, Tony. I hope you didn’t have any problems.”     Tony smiled, showing dazzling white teeth. “Nah, that receptionist spends more time smoking out back than manning the desk.” After a pregnant pause, he asked, “You got any more of those Nutty Buddies?”     “Sure.” I went into the closet and pulled out another pack. “There you go, and thanks again.”     Tony smiled and left the door ajar as he left the room, whistling as he walked down the hall.     “A bad rendition of Mozart’s Concerto for Bassoon, if I’m right.”     “Dang, Mildred, where did you learn all this stuff?”     She just smiled and said, “Over the years. My husband played classical music all the time at home.”     Tony’s list didn’t provide a lot of help. It included only family members, based on the last name. Two men with the name Redwine, possibly sons, and one woman with the last name of Copper, a married daughter? I added those names to our list. “Time to Google.”     Over the next hour, we first searched for information on the two residents still on our list: Lorraine Pringle, widow of Arthur, who lived in Room 206, and Joseph Entwhistle, Room 214. Lorraine had played the oboe in an orchestra for musical theater in Boston. Entwhistle had practiced law. While I could see where Redwine’s life might have intersected with Lorraine’s, I wondered what his connection was to our lawyer.     “What kind of law did Mr. Entwhistle practice?” asked Mildred.      More key tapping. “Looks like personal property and real estate lawsuits.”     “Can we look up lawsuits against Redwine if we pay for a search? Maybe Entwhistle was one of the lawyers.”     “For just $19.99…” I joked. “Yes, but we’ll have to subscribe.” I looked at several sites and with Mildred’s consent, subscribed to BackgroundSearch.com. I found two lawsuits against Redwine, one for plagiarism and one for property theft. Seems our maestro’s life had had its problems. Public records showed Redwine had been sued of stealing a composer’s symphony, but the suit had been dismissed. And one of his two sons had sued his father over the distribution of his real estate, prior to Redwine’s arrival at Rest Easy. Entwhistle figured in neither suit.     Mildred took notes as I read off the computer screen. “From what I know from my work in the law firm,” she said, “suits for musical plagiarism are a dime a dozen. And the person suing almost never wins. Okay, so the suit filed by one of Redwine’s sons is our main lead. Did the son win the case?”     More clicking of keys. “Yup, and the other son has launched an appeal. No love lost there.” I moved on to the widowed Ms. Pringle, finding very little. She’d lived an exemplary life, not even a parking ticket. And no connection to Redwine through her music, so we exonerated her.     “Let’s look at the visitor list. Which one of the sons visited Redwine?”     Mildred glanced at Tony’s list. “Both, it seems.”     “That’s weird.”     “DINNER IN 10 MINUTES. TURKEY DELIGHT AND SALAD.”      We both groaned. ******     Next, we used our ‘getting to know you’ approach to gather information on Rest Easy employees. Norma seemed inordinately pleased with our effort and nicknamed us the M and M’s. What a hoot!     I googled the employees and the female visitor, who turned out to be Massey’s daughter.  “She’s clean…” I told Mildred, shutting down the search, “…as well as everyone else on our list.    Maybe we missed something.”     “What about Tony?”     “A dead end. I can’t find him anywhere online,” I replied. “It’s like he doesn’t exist. No driver’s license, no address, or birth date. He’s a non-person.”     “Well, buck up, cream puff. We’ve still got three likely murderers. The two sons and Tony. Funny that the sons would visit their father if they’re all

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