bring him to her.”
“Did you get their names?” Mort asked.
“The woman’s name is Irina Bednikova,” I said to Mort. “One of the men with her is her brother, Maxim. I don’t know who the other man is.” I looked at Marisa. “Do you?”
She shook her head.
“What did you do?” Mort asked Marisa.
“Nothing. I can’t leave my post. Friday is a big night here. Besides, I knew that Alexei wasn’t here. He and Chris had already rehearsed. I saw her here earlier, but she’s probably long gone by now. They never hang around the rink when they can’t use the ice.”
“Who called the police?”
She shrugged. “Not me. Might’ve been Jeremy. The Russians were threatening to search the place.”
“What Russians?” Mort asked.
“Alexei’s former partner and those two big scary-looking guys with her.”
“They’re Russian?”
“Well, of course. Alexei is Russian, isn’t he?”
“Do you know what’s she’s talking about, Mrs. F.?”
“I’ll explain in a minute,” I said. “What did you do?” I asked her.
“I told them to go talk with Mr. Coddington.”
“Is he here?” I asked.
“I doubt it. He doesn’t usually come in on a Friday night. I just said that to get them out of my hair. We were busy, and I was afraid those guys would scare some of the little kids. They scared me; that’s for sure.”
“When did they leave?” Mort asked.
“They might still be here for all I know.”
“Where did you see them last?”
“Over there.” She pointed to the staircase leading to the second floor.
I told Mort about the arrival of Alexei’s former partner and her hopes to repatriate him.
“Must be the same people as out at Blueberry Hill Inn,” he said.
We walked past a game room with an array of arcade machines, every one of them being played. The bells, whistles, and other sound effects added to the general cacophony in the building. Maureen covered her ears with her mittened hands, and feeling like a party of visitors exploring another planet, we climbed the steps to an empty hallway.
“How do those parents stand the racket?” Maureen asked.
“They’re used to it,” Mort replied. “Kind of like me and the police siren. Doesn’t hurt my ears anymore. It’s just background noise.”
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Seth said. “It’s not as if anyone is hurt, and I’ve toted this heavy bag for nothing. I could be home by a nice fire enjoying my chicken à la Hazlitt, and so could you.”
“I could eat it all myself,” Mort said. “I’m about as hungry as a bear.”
“I don’t serve bears,” Seth said stiffly. “The dish I made for tonight has a subtle blending of spices. It should be savored, not gobbled down.”
“Whatever you say, Doc.”
Our sheriff walked up and down the corridor trying the doorknobs. All the rooms were locked. He tried pounding on Coddington’s office door, but there was no response.
“I don’t think it’s worth getting the keys,” he said. “Sorry to get you all out for no reason. I’ll talk with Gladys to see if she has more details on what the complaint was about.”
“If we’re finished up here,” I said, “why don’t we get back to Seth’s house and enjoy that dinner?”
Mort hesitated. “Gimme a few more minutes,” he said. “I’d better talk to that guy Jeremy and see if he’s the one made the call.”
“And give him a good dressing-down for dragging us out on a night like this,” Seth grumbled as we headed off in search of Jeremy.
Chapter Ten
W hen we returned downstairs, both the hockey game and the public skating session had ended, and one Zamboni was already making its circuit on the ice. Skaters and parents crowded the hall. Seth had gotten waylaid by a mother with a question about her son’s allergy medication, and a small circle had gathered around him. Seeing Seth occupied, Maureen, citing hunger pangs, had joined the line to get a hot dog.
“You know much about this guy Jeremy, Mrs.
“Did you get their names?” Mort asked.
“The woman’s name is Irina Bednikova,” I said to Mort. “One of the men with her is her brother, Maxim. I don’t know who the other man is.” I looked at Marisa. “Do you?”
She shook her head.
“What did you do?” Mort asked Marisa.
“Nothing. I can’t leave my post. Friday is a big night here. Besides, I knew that Alexei wasn’t here. He and Chris had already rehearsed. I saw her here earlier, but she’s probably long gone by now. They never hang around the rink when they can’t use the ice.”
“Who called the police?”
She shrugged. “Not me. Might’ve been Jeremy. The Russians were threatening to search the place.”
“What Russians?” Mort asked.
“Alexei’s former partner and those two big scary-looking guys with her.”
“They’re Russian?”
“Well, of course. Alexei is Russian, isn’t he?”
“Do you know what’s she’s talking about, Mrs. F.?”
“I’ll explain in a minute,” I said. “What did you do?” I asked her.
“I told them to go talk with Mr. Coddington.”
“Is he here?” I asked.
“I doubt it. He doesn’t usually come in on a Friday night. I just said that to get them out of my hair. We were busy, and I was afraid those guys would scare some of the little kids. They scared me; that’s for sure.”
“When did they leave?” Mort asked.
“They might still be here for all I know.”
“Where did you see them last?”
“Over there.” She pointed to the staircase leading to the second floor.
I told Mort about the arrival of Alexei’s former partner and her hopes to repatriate him.
“Must be the same people as out at Blueberry Hill Inn,” he said.
We walked past a game room with an array of arcade machines, every one of them being played. The bells, whistles, and other sound effects added to the general cacophony in the building. Maureen covered her ears with her mittened hands, and feeling like a party of visitors exploring another planet, we climbed the steps to an empty hallway.
“How do those parents stand the racket?” Maureen asked.
“They’re used to it,” Mort replied. “Kind of like me and the police siren. Doesn’t hurt my ears anymore. It’s just background noise.”
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Seth said. “It’s not as if anyone is hurt, and I’ve toted this heavy bag for nothing. I could be home by a nice fire enjoying my chicken à la Hazlitt, and so could you.”
“I could eat it all myself,” Mort said. “I’m about as hungry as a bear.”
“I don’t serve bears,” Seth said stiffly. “The dish I made for tonight has a subtle blending of spices. It should be savored, not gobbled down.”
“Whatever you say, Doc.”
Our sheriff walked up and down the corridor trying the doorknobs. All the rooms were locked. He tried pounding on Coddington’s office door, but there was no response.
“I don’t think it’s worth getting the keys,” he said. “Sorry to get you all out for no reason. I’ll talk with Gladys to see if she has more details on what the complaint was about.”
“If we’re finished up here,” I said, “why don’t we get back to Seth’s house and enjoy that dinner?”
Mort hesitated. “Gimme a few more minutes,” he said. “I’d better talk to that guy Jeremy and see if he’s the one made the call.”
“And give him a good dressing-down for dragging us out on a night like this,” Seth grumbled as we headed off in search of Jeremy.
Chapter Ten
W hen we returned downstairs, both the hockey game and the public skating session had ended, and one Zamboni was already making its circuit on the ice. Skaters and parents crowded the hall. Seth had gotten waylaid by a mother with a question about her son’s allergy medication, and a small circle had gathered around him. Seeing Seth occupied, Maureen, citing hunger pangs, had joined the line to get a hot dog.
“You know much about this guy Jeremy, Mrs.
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