Canal Barge Blues: An Agnes Trout Mystery

By Geoffrey Peppiatt

Private Investigator Agnes Trout is seeking balance in her relationships when an old friend in England asks for help locating his aunt, who went missing over eighty years ago. Agnes relishes immersing herself in a new missing person case, but complications arise when human bones surface by her friend’s canal barge home. A brutal decades-old murder unravels, plunging Agnes into a quest for answers across England and South Wales. She is joined by her intriguing new partner Jonathan Black, and the search also leads Agnes to revelations closer to home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jun 21, 2024
• ISBN: 9781035833153

Geoffrey Peppiatt

Geoffrey Peppiatt is a former scientist and physics teacher. Apart from his family, his interests include playing squash, writing, gourmet cooking and collecting just about anything. With his wife, June, and cat, Marlowe (aka Bear), he splits his time between New York and Pennsylvania.

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Dedication

For my six grandchildren.

And for my wife, June, the love of my life, for her continued loving support and advice, as well as her valuable professional expertise.

Copyright Information ©

Geoffrey Peppiatt 2024

The right of Geoffrey Peppiatt to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035833139 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035833146 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781035833153 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

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E14 5AA

Chapter 1

Agnes Trout, Aggie to her friends, except to her more than occasional lover—Jack Coletti, an NYPD detective who, along with a couple of close friends, prefers to call her Ag—was in a deeply reflective mood as she sipped black coffee at her kitchen counter and gazed distractedly out of her living room window at the gray skies and scudding clouds outside her Brownstone walk-up. She liked life to be uncomplicated which, for the most part, was not an easy achievement. As a private investigator, she was almost guaranteed complication. Work was one thing, controllable, somewhat predictable and at times dangerous—she had recently had two brushes with mortality while working cases—but she felt fully capable of dealing with anything that came along, and dealing with it well.

Her personal life, however, had acquired substantial complexity. Her arrangement with Jack had worked for close on three years now and had entirely satisfied their individual needs. They were mutually supportive of each other’s careers, they met fairly regularly for dinner and primal, enjoyable and, Aggie thought, thoroughly satisfying sex at one of their apartments and they had always agreed not to inquire too far into each other’s other relationships. She had also met Jonathan Black during one of her cases and, although she was aware that he had been a sometime fixer of sorts and had a mysterious past which she had yet to learn about, she looked forward to their regular get-togethers at one of their apartments for dinner and conversation. He was an excellent chef, had, she thought, a great sense of humor and an overriding sense of calm intelligence and intellectual curiosity.

She loved his rather luxurious apartment, forty-two floors above Amsterdam Avenue with beautiful views of the Hudson River through a picture window in his dining area. She often slept in his spare bedroom and spent the start of the following morning breakfasting and chatting with him before taking off. He was, she thought, about fifteen years older than her but she had never noticed an age difference in his company, which always felt comfortable and engaging. She also felt an approaching closeness in their relationship which she was beginning to embrace and enjoy. She was curious as to where it was going and felt perfectly happy to explore it and find out.

For the time being, all of this had been entirely manageable and enjoyable. Complication had flown in the door with Moses Reede, a New Jersey detective, whom she had met while working on her most recent case. He turned out to be a straightforward, decent, energetic guy who had blown through two marriages because of his work commitment, or so it seemed, and was looking, it appeared to Aggie, for stability in his life. They had dated once or twice which gave Aggie enough of an indication that something intense in their relationship was in the offing—not what she was looking for. She was not prepared to offer anyone a commitment at this stage of her life and certainly not at high speed. Her time with Jonathan might move in that direction over time—she didn’t know—but the evolution and intrigue of their relationship was gradual, comfortable and mysterious.

She munched on some dry sourdough toast and finished up her coffee. Yes, she needed to slow Moses Reede down a bit and decide how her relationships were going to proceed and then get on track. As far as work was concerned, she had one divorce case amicably resolved and one that was barely ongoing. Not the work that she liked but work that paid the bills. The ongoing case involved spousal abuse by the wife of her client and was now basically out of her hands. Once all of the evidentiary work had been done—the spouse had regularly beaten her client with a five-quart saucepan—there was little to be done. Aggie had long since stopped being surprised by how people could treat each other.

She had also received an email from a friend who lived on a barge in England, near a town called Slough. She had stayed with him on the barge during a trip to England some time back. He was a mechanical engineer who worked for the London Transport Authority in Chiswick. His work had included measuring sound levels in the British Underground system, called the Tube, all kinds of work on Routemaster buses and material testing and design. He was somewhat eccentric, as one might expect, but good company and an excellent cook. His barge was actually what is known as a narrowboat, which has to be below seven feet in width to navigate the canal system of waterways.

As far as Aggie knew, he did not do that but could if he had wanted to. It was possible to travel around London on the Regents Canal and around the South of England, as well as up to the Midlands. Archie kept his narrowboat moored in a small backwater, where electricity could be piped from beneath the towpath but he used a generator, which was noisy but manageable. It was a very peaceful existence with no complications except, perhaps, for the weather. His email was brief but he was requesting her help as a private investigator, if she was still in the market for that kind of work.

Of course, Aggie surmised, any work for Archie would entail a trip to England. Did she want to do that? Did she need to do that? How would it work? Her current circumstances were totally flexible and so there would be no initial problems but, a trip to England? For how long? She certainly liked it there, having made the trip three times in the past, so it did have a certain appeal. A recent case had involved communications with a runaway wife, then ensconced on the South Coast in a seaside town called Hastings. Anyway, no more speculation until she had spoken to Archie. He had asked her to call when she was able to.

She washed up her mug and coffee pot, tossed a paper towel full of breadcrumbs into the garbage and headed for the bathroom. She would make the phone call when she was ready. After a long, hot shower, Aggie put on sweats and sat on her couch to review and summarize her last case. As she thought, there was nothing further that she could do, the last effort being to help her client establish a restraining order. That done she could move on. She would be spending the evening with Jonathan and needed to call about timing and what she should bring with her. She planned to go to the gym in the late morning, then do some shopping at Whole Foods. She would call Archie in the early afternoon, which would be early evening in England. She picked up her cell and put in her call to Jonathan.

Hi Aggie. I’m glad you called. Just wondering about the timing.

Hi Jonathan. How about seven-Ish?

Perfect.

Can I bring something? Dessert or wine?

I’m doing a salad. I was going for a light meal, fruit for dessert. Wine, if you like.

So, Riesling would work, wouldn’t it? I’ll add a Sauternes for later.

Great. Everything OK?

Yes. I’m in good shape. Looking forward to tonight.

Wonderful. See you then.

They hung up.

Aggie grabbed her bag and keys and set off for the gym. She realized that she would need another shower later but better too clean than sweaty. At the gym, she completed thirty minutes of running at a decent pace, followed by twenty minutes of kick boxing which felt like enough. Sometimes she would do up to an hour of kick boxing alone. She rarely used the punch bag but when she did, it seemed to release any pent-up emotions that she might have been feeling. Most of the time, though, she felt calm, reflective and generally content.

The next stop was Whole Foods for produce shopping and some staples, followed by the liquor store for the wine. All in all, a successful and satisfying use of time. Back in her apartment, she lunched on yoghurt and an apple while she contemplated the call to Archie. After a few sips of some bottled Fiji water, she went to her couch, took out her notebook and pen, picked up her cell and called. Archie came on after two rings.

His voice was a strong tenor. Hello Aggie. I’m so glad that you called back. How are you?

Hi Archie. I’m fine. More to the point, how are you?

Archie paused briefly. I’m good. Sorry about calling you out of the blue. I meant to catch up but never got around to it.

Aggie laughed. Me too. Life has been busy.

Look, the reason I am calling is to see if you are still doing cases. You know, investigating.

Aggie said, I am. Currently, that is what I do. What’s your problem?

Well, my father died a year or so ago. Early eighties. Bit sudden with a stroke.

Aggie interrupted. Sorry to hear that. Are you OK?

Wasn’t for a while. But, I’m dealing with it a lot better now. My brother and I sold his house and divided up his effects. You know the sort of thing. But, I couldn’t look through them until recently.

Hard to do. I don’t know how I would handle that. How’s your mother?

Oh. She died a long time ago. Fifteen years ago or so, I think. Time goes by so fast.

Oh. I didn’t know.

Archie paused again.

Thing is, I have been going through my father’s stuff, letters, photos, all that. To cut a long story short, I seem to have had an aunt that I didn’t know about.

Your dad’s sister?

That’s right. My brother didn’t know about her, either.

So, where is she?

That’s it. I have no idea. She seems to have disappeared early on.

Aggie began to scribble a few details. What do you mean, early on?

Well, there are photographs of her as a kid, a couple of birthday cards, that sort of thing and then, nothing.

Could she have died?

It’s possible, I suppose. But there would be something to show that, wouldn’t there?

You mean papers, records? Yes, you’d expect something.

Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about it. It’s just weird, finding out like this. Thing is, would you be up to finding her for me? If she is still around. Find out what happened.

Aggie was slow to respond. I don’t know. I couldn’t take that on at long range. It just wouldn’t work.

No. You’d need to be here, of course.

Archie, give me some time to think it through. Some stuff I could do from here but I think I would need to talk to a lot of people in England. Family, local records, schools, etc. That would be quite a commitment.

Of course, I would pay you. I’m in decent financial shape. My father’s legacy was reasonably substantial. I don’t know what it costs but I want to know what happened. Where she is.

Aggie said, OK. If I take it on, we can reach some sort of agreement that works for both of us. It’s more about me coming there. Can I call you in a couple of days?

That would be good. Excellent, in fact. Thank you.

No promises. I’m going to think it through.

Right.

OK, Archie. Good to hear from you, anyway. I’ll call soon. Bye for now.

Bye.

They rang off.

Aggie put down her cell and sat back on her couch. She had been sitting on the edge, hunched over while talking to Archie. This was quite a turn up. She stared out of the window in thought. It was certainly an intriguing idea. Finding a long-lost relative. Of course, if she was still alive, she might not want to be found. And then, there was England. Flights, places to stay, average food, a different system. A lot to think about.

Aggie sighed, got up from the couch, tidied up the kitchen and went to the bathroom for her second shower of the day. Things might clarify under the hot water. After the shower, which did not clarify too much, she donned a fresh maroon colored sweatsuit, white plain tee shirt and white socks. She put out her sneakers in readiness and settled in to read for a while before her trip to Jonathan for dinner. Hopefully, matters would coalesce as she read some John Harvey.

After an incredibly relaxing and enjoyable read, involving a Charlie Resnick adventure, Aggie reluctantly put the book down and stared into space. Archie’s problem, or family puzzle, was an interesting challenge. She had looked for missing persons before and was quite good at it. The whole premise of this one, being so old, was fascinating and she liked the idea of having a shot at it. Thing was, that it was in England. Could she take up and just go? Her life was flexible enough for that, and of course, she didn’t have to remind herself that time away right now would give her breathing space to sort through her feelings in general. Her current cases were pretty much entirely resolved.

She could probably make some preliminary inquiries from here at home, look up places to go for information and get some family information from Archie to build an initial picture before she dived in across the pond. Hm. She seemed to be moving towards the idea of taking this on. There were the flight costs to think of and a place to stay after an initial hotel stint. Maybe two or three weeks or so would see a solution. She brought her thoughts back to immediacy and saw that it was time for dinner. She slipped on her sneakers, went to the fridge and retrieved the wine, grabbed her bag, called for an Uber and, within ten minutes, was on her way to Jonathan’s Amsterdam pad.

Chapter 2

Aggie climbed out of the Uber and made her way into the building. The doorman and the desk attendants now knew her by name and she was soon on her way to the 42nd floor. There were 48 floors apparently, plus one floor labeled ‘Penthouse’ which must be some kind of ultimate habitat for the well-off. There was also a swimming pool up there and Aggie wondered what the chances were of water leakage or even collapse, although, of course, it was designed not to do that. She remembered a film with Jason Statham where a rich guy had a pool suspended at the top of a building in open space with a see-through bottom to the streets below. She shuddered at the thought. In fact, that guy went out with the water at some point. She arrived at Jonathan’s floor and, as usual, the door was open and she entered, calling out as she closed the door. Hi Jonathan.

She walked down the familiar hallway to the kitchen where Jonathan was cutting up the fresh fruit.

Hi Aggie. Go right in. Salad’s out.

Aggie put the wine in the freezer, although it was still quite cool after the short trip. She went over to Jonathan and they hugged briefly but warmly, before she headed into the dining area by the picture window. A huge bowl of salad, the contents ranging from red and yellow peppers to apples and endive, dominated the center of the table along with three bowls of grated cheeses and two other bowls with dressings. Jonathan put the fruit into the fridge and joined her with a bottle of opened Riesling.

I think it’s cold enough, let’s give it a go.

He poured out two generous glasses and they touched them together lightly, before drinking deeply.

He said, Good to see you.

Good to see you too.

There was now a genuine warmth and feeling between them. They had come to understand one another well. Aggie’s stalwart independence had been matched by Jonathan’s calm, patient and positive demeanor which nothing could remotely rattle or shake.

He said, The cheeses are Parmesan, Canadian Cheddar and Danish Blue. The dressings are homemade Italian and Thousand Island.

Aggie responded, Wow. I’m having all three cheeses. It looks delicious.

They sat down in their long-established places, Aggie facing the beautiful view of the river and Jonathan at right angles to her on the side of the table. They both heaped their plates with salad. Aggie took some of all three cheeses and the Thousand Island dressing while Jonathan had the same dressing but with Canadian Cheddar. They ate in comfortable silence for a minute or two before Aggie spoke.

This is amazing. I love it. It feels perfect today.

Jonathan smiled warmly, his blue eyes lighting up. Good. Glad you like it.

Aggie smiled. Done anything exciting today?

Not really. Bit of reading. Called to check up on my friend in Seattle. Not much.

Ah. How is he?

Aggie recalled Jonathan’s trip to Seattle to rescue his friend, Blink, who had hit the skids, was homeless and penniless. He and his close friend, Cedric, had gotten Blink back on his feet, along with a small apartment and a job with a well-known auctioneer. Blink had an art history background and had also at some point, renovated paintings.

Still on the straight and narrow. I really do believe he is OK now. I didn’t know what to expect. He’s in limited demand in terms of the appraisal side of things but is making enough to survive. Good chance of a teaching job too, apparently.

Blink, wasn’t it? I did wonder how someone gets a name like that.

Jonathan glanced at Aggie for a moment, as they continued to reduce the pile of salad and opened the second bottle of Riesling. After a sip or two, Jonathan responded.

Well, in another life, many years ago, he was accredited with being a sniper. Military connection, of course. He never blinked. He also won several marksman competitions at a later chapter in his life.

Interesting. Were you part of that connection too?

Jonathan sighed and nodded briefly. I was. Dim and distant past. Long gone.

I see. Lost in the mists of time. No stories then?

Exactly. For now, anyway.

Cedric too?

Cedric had all but saved Aggie’s life during a previous case.

Indeed.

They were silent for a few minutes as they both finished up almost all of the salad.

Jonathan said, I’ll clear up and get the fruit.

Aggie helped carry out the dishes and she stacked them in the dish washer while Jonathan retrieved the fruit from the fridge along with two bowls. They went back to the dining table and served up the fruit.

Jonathan said, How about your day?

Aggie put down her spoon after eating some kiwi and strawberries.

Not too much to say. I’m pretty much done with my current cases.

The diverting divorce ones? The saucepan wielder too?

Yes. All done. For me, anyway.

Jonathan put both hands on the table.

Good. Clean slate then. Now, perhaps we could do something together. Visit Canada. Sit by the lakes in Colorado. Listen to music in Austin. You know, everyday things.

Aggie laughed outright.

That all sounds thoroughly enticing. I could do with any of those suggestions.

Well?

I’m serious, but something else has come up.

Oh dear. Of course it has. Tell me.

Aggie sat back in her chair, glanced out of the window at the lights reflecting off the river and then back to Jonathan. Well, I’ve been to England three times. Also Scotland, I went to Glasgow for a couple of days. On one trip, I met up with a guy, an engineer who lived on a barge near Slough.

Jonathan nodded and said, A genuine narrowboat?

Yes. He converted it into a neat home, bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom, all of that. I believe that some barges used to haul coal. I don’t know if his did.

Jonathan added, They have a maximum width to negotiate locks on the waterways. Because of all the different water levels.

Right. Some are too big and just stay where they are. Permanent water homes. This guy, Archie is his name, said he could travel all over the waterway system, if he wanted to. He reconditioned the motor too. Anyway, he called me and left a message. I called him back this afternoon.

Jonathan leaned back too. I sense something momentous looming.

No. Not momentous. Just an offer, a request really, to do some work for him.

Ah. Please continue.

His father died a year or so ago and he has just got around to sorting through his effects, papers and so on. Well, he discovered that he had an aunt that he did not know about.

A mystery. Good. Did anybody else know about this aunt?

He has a brother whom I didn’t meet or know about. He hadn’t heard of this aunt either. I don’t know of anybody else yet. Thing is, this aunt, his dad’s sister, seems to have vanished at a very early age, maybe two or three years old. I don’t know exactly. At least there are no photographs or information about her after that.

Perhaps she died.

That’s what I thought. Could be. I don’t think that he has checked that out. Got to be paperwork somewhere. Just a case of finding it.

So, an educated guess here. He wants you to find her.

Yes. I said that I would think about it.

Well, preliminary inquiries can be done from here. But, beyond that, I see a trip in the offing.

Aggie smiled. That’s where I’m at.

They picked up their spoons and demolished the remaining fruit in thoughtful silence. After they had cleared the table, put the remaining Riesling in the fridge and opened the Sauternes, they sat side by side on their usual couch.

Jonathan asked, What do you think you will do? You sound as though you are giving this serious consideration.

I am. It could be an interesting case. I mean, it’s basically a cold case and that’s intriguing in itself. If this woman, or girl as she was then, has really disappeared, it would be a challenge to find out what happened.

It would. And I agree, it could be fun and a challenge. Of course, the person that this lady has now become, if she is alive, may not welcome discovery.

That’s true. I had thought of that too. It would be something that I would have to consider when the time comes.

Jonathan sipped his wine, as he laid back on the couch.

When will you decide about all of this, if you haven’t already?

Aggie drank up too before replying.

Over the next day or so, I suppose. In principle, I’m there. It’s just the external logistics that need some thought.

Jonathan put his glass down and turned to Aggie. May I make a suggestion, a proposal, if you like?

Of course. Anything is helpful.

"If your decision is a go, why not let me handle the logistics? That is flights, hotels, planning