Authors: Joyce and Jim Lavene
Harrowing Hats (33 page)
I
went back to the Dungeon to sleep for a few hours before morning. Chase didn’t get in until after me. “Where were you?” I wondered.
went back to the Dungeon to sleep for a few hours before morning. Chase didn’t get in until after me. “Where were you?” I wondered.
“I shouldn’t bother telling you,” he sniped. “After that stunt you pulled at the encampment.”
“It’s not like I was in any real danger.”
“Not that you would’ve cared.”
“And I
did
find something to prank Stewart with.”
did
find something to prank Stewart with.”
“Not that you care what I think about that either.”
“Chase—this needs to be done. You should be able to see that better than anyone.”
“Sometimes, things work out on their own with absolutely no outside interference from you or anyone else. Have you ever noticed that?”
We were nose-to-nose on the bed. But I was too tired to argue with him anymore. “I have to get some sleep.” I yawned. “We’ll have to talk about this tomorrow.”
“Jessie—” He paused, then kissed me. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I sat up. “Don’t you even want to know how I’m going to do it?” I was tired, but sleep suddenly seemed impossible with so much on my mind.
“No.”
“Aren’t you a
little
curious?”
little
curious?”
“No.”
I sighed—heavily—and stood up. “I can’t sleep.”
“You’re going to be dragging tomorrow—today.”
“I know. But I can’t sleep.”
“Fine.” He got up, too. “Let’s leave and drive down to the IHOP and eat breakfast out for a change.”
“Really?”
“And you can tell me all about your scheme to prank Stewart.” I heard him fumble for his street clothes (the kind you wear outside the Village). “Not that I’m going to go along with whatever you have in mind.”
“Okay.” Lucky for me, I didn’t need his approval.
Thirty-eight
W
e came back a couple of hours later, after we’d stuffed ourselves full of pancakes and maple syrup. We took a nice walk on the beach while the sun was rising and watched Myrtle Beach come to life around us.
e came back a couple of hours later, after we’d stuffed ourselves full of pancakes and maple syrup. We took a nice walk on the beach while the sun was rising and watched Myrtle Beach come to life around us.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember that there’s a world outside the Village. While I’m here—this is all that matters. I’ve always known I could get lost in the make-believe. That’s why I never decided to stay here full-time. I love this world of fairies, pirates, and nobility—I’m just afraid to let it become my whole life.
Chase and I kissed good-bye at the Main Gate to go our separate ways. He’d had a call from King Harold while we were out, asking him to come to the castle as soon as possible.
I was headed back to the Dungeon after picking up a new gown from the costume shop. It was a little pink for me, but Portia wasn’t in an amiable mood so I settled. It did absolutely nothing for my coloring.
I waved to Beth in the back of the shop before I left. Seeing her reminded me that there was something we were all missing about Cesar’s death—something important. I didn’t believe Swayne had killed him. I doubted I ever would.
I met Robin Hood and Maid Marion (I guess he got her to come home again), who acknowledged me with a head bow (him) and a curtsy (her). I noticed Maid Marion was sporting what looked like an expensive new dress and matching parasol. It might have been a bribe for coming back from the Templars’ camp.
They were headed toward the Monastery Bakery, so we walked together for a while down the cobblestones.
“Big doings at the castle last night,” Robin said.
“Yes.” I didn’t go any further. I wanted to hear his version.
“After last night, I would think there will be a spectacular press conference, at the very least.” Maid Marion smiled.
“I suppose you’re right.” I waited to hear them tell me about someone catching Cesar’s killer.
“Maybe you didn’t hear,” Robin suggested, possibly at my lack of enthusiasm for good gossip. “King Harold publicly announced the queen’s baby as his.”
“Were the tests finished?” I asked in awe, despite myself.
“I haven’t heard,” Robin continued, “but he said the baby was his. The child will be the new prince or princess of Renaissance Village—to be born around Christmas.”
“Really?” I enthused. “That’s wonderful news. I hope things work out for them.”
“You and Chase were glowing this morning,” Maid Marion remarked. “You two seem very much in love. Just like me and Robin.”
I said thank you but secretly hoped we had more going on than Robin and his present Marion. My usual mouthful of words wouldn’t quite come out though. I kind of felt choked up thinking about it.
I was tired, I considered. I probably needed caffeine to keep me from getting too mushy and teary-eyed about it.
“Did you hear we caught the man who killed Andre’s wife at the feast last night?” It was best to change the subject.
Marion glanced at Robin. “No. I didn’t realize Andre was married. I thought Cesar died—not Eloise.”
“Was he married to Eloise?” Robin was confused. “I thought she was going to marry Bernardo. Or was that Marco with that younger tart—what’s her name?”
“Belle?” I suggested. This was news to me.
“That’s the one. Not that Cesar wanted them together. Of course, he didn’t want Bernardo with Eloise either. That’s why he tried to break them up.” Robin stroked his beard thoughtfully.
I considered the information and stored it away for the near future. Then I told them my tale of helping catch Swayne. After my glory story, I finally broke down and let Robin in on pranking Stewart—with a reminder to keep his mouth shut.
Coffee was gone and the day was getting later. I took my leave of them, trying to digest what Robin had told me about Cesar dominating his brothers. Cesar had a lot to answer for. I realized he might have answered with his life.
But I’d been all over the thing with Bernardo. He’d gained so much with Cesar’s death, but he couldn’t have done it. Eloise was out of the picture, too. I couldn’t imagine Marco—the quiet, shy brother—having anything to do with it. But maybe that’s where I was overlooking something.
“Hey, there!”
I almost walked into Detective Almond. He was looking for Chase. I told him he was at the castle, and he handed me an envelope. “I think this is for you anyway.”
“Me?”
“Manhattan said you wanted a picture of the hat pin we found in Cesar Rizzo. I figure we have the killer already after last night—knock yourself out.”
“Thanks.”
“The castle?” He glanced around like he was lost.
“The big building with the turrets.” I pointed toward it. “You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks. All these places look the same to me. I can’t tell the butcher from the candlestick maker.” He laughed, his heavy face jiggling a little.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him we didn’t have either of those places. I smiled and sent him on his way. Then I ran the rest of the way to the Dungeon to see what I’d been waiting for.
I closed and locked the door to the apartment and huddled on the bed. I couldn’t even wait to change clothes before I looked in the envelope.
There were three pictures of the hat pin—one from each angle. One of them was in color. I studied them carefully and came up with my deduction—I had never seen this hat pin before.
I was disappointed. I thought this would be the answer to Cesar’s death. But maybe the hat pin was still in Andre’s collection. Now that I knew what it looked like, I had something to go on.
I changed into my too-pink gown and took off my tennis shoes even though you couldn’t really see them under all that skirt. We could wear slippers, boots, or sandals. None of them could have zippers or eyelets to tie shoe laces with. I usually wore a plain pair of sandals even though a lady of my stature wouldn’t have worn them during the Renaissance.
The Main Gate was officially open and visitors were pouring in after receiving their Village maps and other free goodies distributed by whoever the hospitality committee could get off the cobblestones. No doubt there would be a large crowd, since Swayne’s arrest would’ve been in the media this morning.
I walked past a group of green fairies who were still getting their act together for the day. I’d noticed the fairies were grouping themselves now—pink, green, blue, and purple. I wasn’t sure what that meant and I didn’t want to ask. I probably should warn Chase of an impending fairy insurrection. Groups didn’t just come together in the Village for no reason.
The acrobats were out showing off on the Green as I got close to the Hat House. Beside them were jugglers, sword swallowers, and fire eaters performing. Little signs said what time their shows were happening during the day and on which of the four stages they were performing.
Someone had definitely pulled out all the stops. There was almost too much going on to take it all in—exactly the way it should be at a Renaissance Fair.
Andre was already busy with several new projects. One of them, no doubt a labor of love, was three new hats for the purple ladies who’d paid him a visit yesterday. Other orders included a new hat for Queen Olivia to match her new maternity wear and a new hat for Mother Goose.
“Jessie! Just in time! I need you to look in the storeroom and find some buckram to stiffen up these hats. I might need to order more. We’ll have to see.”
“I can tell you had a good night.” I smiled as I walked to the storeroom.
“It’s not every night a man realizes his mortality and gets over it. Going through that with Swayne made me realize what a fool I’ve been. I hope I’ve rectified that situation. I’ve asked Beth to be my wife.”
“Seriously? That’s awesome! Tell me you’re going to have a big Village wedding.”
“I will as soon as I hear from her. She told me she needed time. But I know in my heart we’ll be fabulous together. I’m thinking Gable and Lombard, Fairbanks and Pickford, Tarzan and Maureen O’Sullivan.”
“You know the last two weren’t really married, right?”
He kind of giggled. “Of course not. They lived in the jungle. No reason to worry about legalities there.”
He was in such a good mood, I didn’t want to spoil it. I got the buckram from the storeroom and returned for red ribbon, pink flowers, and other necessities. Time passed quickly as we worked at the various projects.
When his assistants left for lunch, I asked Andre what made him suspicious of his old manager. “You must’ve thought something was really wrong to hire a private detective to investigate him.”
“I never dreamed that he’d murdered Kathleen,” he admitted. “I knew there were serious discrepancies in the money I made during a five-year period in that time frame. I might not look it right now, but I made top money while I worked in Hollywood. Swayne was supposed to be investing that for me. It didn’t really show up until recently when I began drawing from that account.”
“But you knew he was sleeping with your wife?”
“Yes. I did. It was a terrible discovery.” He looked up from what he was doing and smiled at me even though there were tears in his eyes. “I thought it was better that I knew who the person was. I know that doesn’t make any sense. It was rather like better the devil you know. I thought at least she was safe with him. When the time was right, she’d come back to me.”
His deep sigh was sad to hear. It kind of said it all.
“I was wondering if you could take a look at a picture of a hat pin that might be one of yours and tell me who it belongs to,” I said, changing the subject.
“Of course—although truly I’m beginning to consider throwing my hat pin collection away and never making or keeping another hat pin again. These things have almost ruined my life twice now. I hate that Cesar was killed that way. And all to throw off the police and cover his tracks because Swayne planned to kill me. At least that’s what they said on TV this morning.”
So that was the theory, eh?
Lame!
Lame!
I took out the envelope and showed Andre the pictures. He pondered them for several minutes, then said, “It’s certainly one of mine. I’m not sure which one. Obviously for a lesser Village character, I think. Maybe that character who used to follow the rhyme—ride a white horse to Banbury Cross. She used to have that sweet little house near Sir Latte’s Beanery. I think Will Shakespeare might be there now.”
We looked through his collection together, but the hat pin didn’t match the one he was thinking about.
“What about Belle? Does she have a hat pin, too?” I asked as he was still going through the hat pins. I knew it was a long shot, but I was curious after talking to Robin that morning.
“You mean Eloise’s youngest sister?” He started back through the collection. “I’m sure she does. I created a lovely chipped-straw hat for her. She has a nice little velvet hat, too. I don’t recall exactly—here it is!”
I looked at the hat pin in the plastic bag. It looked exactly like the one in the photo Detective Almond gave me. I sat back in the old, broken chair and felt depressed by the discovery.
I’d wanted Eloise to be guilty, even Bernardo. They seemed so greedy and manipulative. Why is it that the bad guys don’t seem to be guilty of the things you want them to be guilty of? It was a puzzle for the ages.
Other books
Brides of Alaska by Peterson, Tracie;
Anal Milf by Aaron Grimes
Undeath and Taxes by Drew Hayes
Dublin by Edward Rutherfurd
Other Earths by edited by Nick Gevers, Jay Lake
Gladiator: Son of Spartacus by Simon Scarrow
The Marshal and the Murderer by Magdalen Nabb
Birth School Metallica Death - Vol I by Paul Brannigan, Ian Winwood
Feral Curse by Cynthia Leitich Smith