Damsels in Distress

by Joan Hess

  “Do you need directions?” I asked briskly.

  “No, ma’am, but I need more information. Now what exactly happened? Is there a doctor with the victim?”

  “Good idea,” I said. “I’ll call you back in two minutes.” I carried the phone with me as I went back into the pavilion. I pulled Benny aside. “Ask if there’s a doctor present. If so, take him or her with you and go find Salvador’s body. I’m going to stay here until the ambulance and the police arrive, and then send them to the archery range.”

  “That’s where ... ?”

  “Either at the range or just beyond it in the woods. One of the students went down there to take a leak and saw the body.”

  “He’s sure it’s Salvador?”

  “He claims to have recognized him,” I said. “I’d send this student with you, but I don’t know who he is and Julius isn’t going to be much help for a while. Just find out if there’s a doctor, and then go—okay?” I noted that Caron and Inez had gotten Edward to his feet and were guiding him away from the pavilion. I returned to the area by the van and called 911. “All right, I’m back. I can’t answer your questions because I have no idea what happened. How long will it take for the ambulance and police to get here? There are at least a hundred very nervous people.”

  “Your name, ma’am?”

  “Claire Malloy, if you must know. The victim’s name is Salvador Davis. He was hit on the back of his head with an ax.”

  “An ax? Just what’s going on out there?”

  “I’m at the Renaissance Fair on the property of Anderson and Lanya Peru, and I’m going to save the explanations for the police when they get here. Oh, and call Sergeant Jorgeson. He’s off duty, but he’ll want to know.”

  “Hey, aren’t you the lieutenant’s-”

  I cut him off before he could say “meddlesome girlfriend” or other unflattering phrase. “Yes, I am. Now please call Sergeant Jorgeson. I’d give you my number, but I’m on someone’s cell phone and I have no idea what the number is. Presumably you can determine it from your end. Tell the sergeant I’ll keep the phone with me if he wants to call me back. Do you understand?”

  “I thought I recognized your name,” the dispatcher said, chortling as if he expected to be praised for his acumen. “You and your daughter must have called us a dozen times last month about a body that kept vanishing. Me and the other guys was going start a pool to guess how many times you’d call, but the captain-”

  “Was not amused,” I said, then turned off the phone. I would have slipped it in a pocket, but Renaissance gowns did not offer such conveniences. I considered slipping it in my bodice, then dismissed the idea since it would be less than decorous to have to retrieve it should Jorgeson call.

  The audience had been somewhat pacified by fresh pitchers of wine and ale. The fairies and pirates were jammed together at one picnic table. There was a great deal of hissing and sputtering going on, but they kept their voices low. I found Emily and Carrie, and sent them to the gate to make sure the table was moved aside to allow entry to the ambulance and police vehicles. I thought I could hear sirens in the distance, although I might have been deluding myself. Anderson escorted Lanya out of the pavilion. Her face was blotchy, and her entire body was trembling so hard that she was scarcely able to walk, but Anderson had a good grip on her. The musicians and madrigal singers milled about like brightly clad cows. The scene was eerily quiet.

  I told William Threet to order the musicians to play anything but “Greensleeves,” then sank onto a chair and rubbed the back of my neck. All afternoon, and up until ten minutes previously, the pasture had been filled with colors, flags, banners, screaming children, activity, noise, and good-natured rowdiness. The transition had been too abrupt. And Salvador was dead, or so we thought. One could certainly do significant damage to one’s body with an ax, but only a contortionist could clobber himself in the back of the head.

  Benny put his hand on my shoulder. “The best I could do was a podiartrist. I guess I’ll go by myself to find the body and wait for you and the others. Surely whoever did this to Salvador wouldn’t hang around afterward. That’d be asking to get caught, wouldn’t it? It was probably some homeless guy living down by the creek who got upset by the noise from the fair. A lot of guys getting back from a war zone are like that, you know. Almost psychotic. They have flashbacks, and-”

  “I’ll send a couple of the pirates with you, if I can find any that aren’t too drunk to walk.” I went over to the picnic table inhabited by pea-green fairies and flushed buccaneers. Rather than ask for volunteers, I grabbed two of the boys by their collars and yanked them to their feet. They were not eager to oblige, but Benny had made it clear he would have preferred to discuss post-traumatic stress syndrome for an hour rather than go alone.

  Once they’d gone, I surveyed the scene. Most of the adults in the audience were looking worried. The children had lost enthusiasm for the music, and were squirming or squabbling. Edward was in no shape to entertain them with juggling and magic tricks. I had no idea where Caron and Inez had taken him, or how he was handling the unexpected and potentially devastating news of Salvador’s death. I wondered if he’d already told Salvador, or planned to surprise him at the banquet. If the latter were true, Edward had certainly climbed out on a limb.

  I was pondering this when I finally heard sirens. I went to the tents nearest the entrance and watched an ambulance and several police vehicles bounce across the pasture. Lights continued to flash, but the sirens whined into silence as uniformed officers got out of the cars.

  “You the one who called?” demanded one of them.

  I acknowledged that indeed I was, explained what little I knew, and gave them directions to drive around the tents, stalls, and battlefield to arrive at the archery range. I did so briskly and with more confidence than I felt, since the layout had seemed like a maze that afternoon.

  He stared at my gown, and then at the tents and banners flapping in the breeze. “Is this a play or something? All I can say is it better not be a prank. If it is, you’re gonna be in big trouble.”

  I squared my shoulders. “This is not a prank, as far as I know. It may turn out to be one, but I can assure you that I am not the instigator or a conspirator. A student reported finding the body. He made the assumption, based on his observations of blood and other distasteful material, that the man he was looking at was dead. I sent two other students and an adult to wait near the body for your arrival.”

  “So you haven’t seen this body yourself?”

  “No, I just told you what I know—for the second time. Perhaps you might want to see for yourselves,” I said sharply. “It’s remotely possible that the victim is not dead, in which case he needs immediate medical assistance.”

  “Hey,” said a second officer, “I recognize you. You’re the lieutenant’s-”

  “I am the person who has reported what may have been a vicious assault or a homicide.”

  The first officer chewed on his lower lip as he studied me. “Weren’t you at that fire last week, dressed up like a witch? I asked Sergeant Jorgeson the next day why it is you always seem to be loitering around when there’s a crime. He said it was hard to explain.”

  The other whiz kid sniggered. “Like Einstein’s theory about relatives. My wife tried to tell me how her third cousin twice removed was also her grandmother’s first cousin once removed or something like that, but I just turned up the TV.”

  I wanted to snatch off their badges and stuff them in their mouths. However, since I was mild-mannered as well as courteous, I merely said, “There is a body at the archery range. There are approximately a hundred potential witnesses on the verge of bolting for their cars. As much as I myself am enjoying our little chat, I do think you might want to take charge of the situation. I believe the techniques for preserving the scene are taught at the police academy, but I could be mistaken.”

  A paramedic from the ambulance joined us. “What’s the deal? It’s Saturday night, fellows, and th
e calls are gonna start coming in pretty soon.” He took in my admittedly fetching attire and let out a low whistle. “Begging your pardon, miss. You in need of my very finest medical attention?”

  I held up both hands. “I’ve told you where the body is to be found. The mob is stirring down that walkway behind me. There are also some very upset people wandering around, although I don’t know where they may be by now. You’re professionals, so for God’s sake act like it!” I wheeled around and headed toward the Royal Pavilion, ignoring barked orders to stop. I knew Lanya would be distressed if her gown was returned with bloodstains in the middle of its back, but that was the least of my concerns.

  By the time I reached the Royal Pavilion, the only people remaining at the Duke’s table were the Threets. They did not appear to be displeased by their sudden promotion in prestige, if not rank. Glynnis was waving a fork as the musicians struggled through a number. William beamed at his motley collection of pirates, peasants, and mall shoppers as if they’d come to offer homage. Said subjects were beginning to look surly.

  The two police officers on my heels stopped at the edge of the pavilion. “What the hell’s going on?” one demanded. “Why are these people dressed up like this? Wait, I think I saw something about it on the news earlier this week. Sounded kind a lame.”

  I gestured at the head table. “Those two are Lord and Lady Bicklesham. They will be delighted to explain.”

  “What about those green girls?” asked the second officer.

  “Fairies.”

  “Well, excuse me,” he said. “How could I miss the obvious explanation?” He stared at the crone. “What about her? Is she the bad fairy godmother?”

  He was going to add more, but several members of the audience approached and began to badger him for information. Small children who’d watched the bloodthirsty knights with wide-eyed glee now began to cry at the sight of uniformed police officers. I glided behind the tent and gave myself a few moments to savor the solitude. There were lights on in the farmhouse. Lanya and Anderson were there, I assumed, as well as Fiona. Julius had last been seen staggering away to throw up. Once he’d recovered, he might have taken refuge there, too. I had no idea what Caron and Inez had done with Edward.

  I was still standing there, not quite dithering and wringing my hands, when one of the pirates came blundering across the rutted pasture. “Mrs. Malloy,” he said between gasps, “they want you at the archery range.”

  “They?” I inquired politely.

  “Yeah, you know, like the police. It’s real crazy down there. All kinds of lights and people shouting and stuff.”

  “It sounds as though they have the situation under control with officious and energetic efficacyģ Why on earth do they want me to clutter up the proceedings?”

  He gave me a startled look, as though I’d spoken to him in a foreign dialect. I have noticed that certain members of his age group are often perplexed by multisyllabic words. Their vocabulary seems to consist of acronyms for mysterious state-of-the-art technological jargon.

  “They just told me to get you,” he said at last. “Can you find your way, or do you want me to show you?”

  “Milady does not require an escort. Run along and find some breath mints. You smell like a distillery, and the police will question you and your fellow buccaneers sooner or later. Miss Thackery will be displeased if the lot of you end up being arrested for underage drinking. Dante’s Inferno will sound like a holiday destination.”

  “Yeah, right,” he mumbled, then made his way in the direction of the Royal Pavilion.

  I, on the other hand, did my best to avoid it. I went behind the caterer’s van and various tents until I felt confident enough to emerge. The walkways were unpopulated. The vendors had packed up earlier and slipped away to peddle their wares at other festivals (or go home and watch TV). The food court looked particularly desolate. A few paper plates and cups had fallen out of the trash bins and were quaking in the light breeze. The moon, as well as the lights from the area around the Royal Pavilion, were adequate for me to avoid blundering into any of the picnic tables or stumbling over tent pegs. Dressed as I was, I felt like a character in a gothic novel. Lady Clarissa, back from the netherworld, in search of her brooding lover, haunting the palace grounds on moonlit nights. Her pale shoulders and graceful neck gleam in contrast to her emerald gown. How lightly she moves on her feet, as if drifting above the trampled grass. She pauses, her lips pursed. Her fingertips flutter to her mouth as she peers into the fathomless shadows.

  “Claire!”

  Lady Clarissa almost wet her satin panties.

  “Who’s there?” I croaked.

  “Sssh! It’s Edward. I’m behind the stage.”

  “Doing what?” I wrinkled my nose as I tried to locate him. The shadows were by no means fathomless, but they were dark. “Why don’t you come out here?”

  “I want to talk to you. Please, just for a few minutes. We can sit on the edge of the stage. I found a frying pan in the prop box. You can hold on to it in case you want to clobber me with it.”

  “Is there a reason why I’d want to clobber you?” I asked. I remained where I was, not at all willing to accept his invitation. I wasn’t afraid of Edward. However, I was aware of the adage about fools rushing in where angels fear to tread. Edward might enjoy playing the fool, but I wasn’t as eager. “Why are you hiding, Edward? Is somebody after you?”

  “I don’t know,” he said piteously. “You’re the only person I trust, Claire, and I have to talk to somebody. I think I’m going crazy.”

  “All the more reason for me to stay right here.”

  “No, not that kind of crazy.” He hiccuped noisily, leading me to wonder how much he’d imbibed between his short performances. It was likely that he’d been unable to eat prior to his ballad. It could make for an unpleasant situation.

  “Where are Caron and Inez?” I asked, still unable to see him.

  “I told them I was about to be sick, so they aimed me at one of those portable toilets. They’re probably still waiting for me.”

  That was credible. Neither girl was a likely candidate for nursing school, which was just as well for patients everywhere. Caron once fainted when I removed a splinter from her finger. Inez, who was watching, did, too. They’d recovered only when I offered to take them out for lunch.

  I came to a decision. “Okay, Edward, but I’ll meet you at the battle arena. Nobody will see us, but there’s enough light for me to keep an eye on you.” I waited for a few seconds, then frowned and said, “Edward? Are you still there?”

  The beam from an industrial-strength flashlight caught me in the face. “Are you Mrs. Malloy, ma’am? Sergeant Jorgeson’s waiting for you. He thought you might get lost on the way.”

  I shaded my eyes with my hand. “Get that out of my eyes, please. Yes, I’m Claire Malloy. What does Sergeant Jorgeson want?”

  “You, ma’am. Do you want me to hold your arm? The ground’s kind of rough on account of the weeds.”

  “That will not be necessary, Officer. I have slogged across deserts during raging sandstorms, and used a machete to fight my way through a jungle. Once, when I was captured by a tribe of headhunters in the Amazon rain forest, I ended up teaching them how to make soup from lizards and dung beetles. I am more than capable of walking down to the archery range without assistance.”

  “Of course you are,” he replied with a smirk. “No encounters with aliens?”

  “I am a demigoddess in the mythology of Alpha Centauri.” I took a quick look at the stage, then turned and followed the officer. I realized I’d yet to have a conversation with Edward that had not been cut short, usually by his abrupt departure. I was more than curious to question him about Salvador.

  Sergeant Jorgeson managed a faint smile as I joined him. Beyond the bales of hay that had served as targets, lights glared and police officers moved purposefully. Whether or not they were actually doing anything useful was impossible to determine, but they were keeping themselves oc
cupied.

  “You’re in charge?” I asked Jorgeson. “What about your wife’s relatives?”

  “I can’t say I argued when I got the call,” he said. “What a mess, Ms. Malloy. People in costumes, drunken pirates, bitchy fairies, and all these lords and ladies. It is not your typical crime background.” He paused, then tilted his head. “You look particularly charming, if I may be so bold to mention it.”

  “I don’t feel charming. What’s going on?”

  “The victim was dead when we found him. The back of his head is a mess. The medical examiner is on his way. He’ll come up with a reasonably good estimate for the time of death, but I’d guess at least a couple of hours.”

  “And you’re sure it’s Salvador Davis?”

  “His friend over there talking to Corporal Cooper says so. Do you want to take a look?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll trust Benny’s identification. Salvador drove out here. If his wallet’s not in his pocket, you can look for it in his car. Anderson Peru will know where it’s parked. What do you think happened?”

  “Hard to begin to say, Ms. Malloy. From what Mr. Stallings has said, it sounds like Davis arrived around eight o’clock this morning. He brought some archery equipment and paper targets. Some of the high school boys lugged the bales of hay down here and attached the targets and taped up banners. We’ll locate them and ask questions, but I doubt they’ll have anything to contribute. Mr. Stallings says he took Davis a cup of ale and a turkey leg shortly before noon and they had lunch at the edge of the woods. He didn’t see him after that.”

  “Several hundred people did, though,” I said. “Lots of would- be William Tells willing to put out a dollar to shoot three arrows.”