Harrowing Hats

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  “What did?” Chase wondered.

  “Maybe we should take this inside,” Detective Almond suggested, glancing around like someone was listening to him even though it was only the three of us. His gaze finally rested on me. “Police business. You don’t mind, do you?”

  I realized he was talking to (and about) me. “Of course not. I’m late for work anyway. See you later, Chase.”

  I wasn’t late. The Village wouldn’t open for another hour. I knew Chase would tell me what Detective Almond had to say when we met up later. After all, Chase was the designated protector for the Village, and I was just an apprentice hatmaker. My feelings weren’t really hurt to be left out of the important discussion.

  Tony and I had plenty of time to wander down to the Monastery Bakery and catch up on the last few months. He talked of nothing but the girls he’d dated and his continuing job doing promotion work for Robin Hood. I suppose I was the same about school and Chase.

  I could smell coffee and cinnamon rolls on the morning air by the time we’d reached the Dutchman’s Stage. A few residents were up already, working on their skits for the day or practicing with their animals. Tom, Tom the Piper’s Son, probably had one of the hardest jobs in the Village, since it required him to catch a piglet then let it go and catch it again after the laughter and applause were over.

  Lady Godiva, already in her long blond wig and fleshcolored bodysuit, was working with her horse. She had obviously been recently cast, since the animal seemed to have a great distaste for her. I never knew who was going to be the naked lady when I returned to the Village each summer. It was an often-cast part.

  I saw the new Green Man practicing on his stilts without his costume. Again, another new addition. Most people only made it through a few weeks with that part, too. They either moved on to something easier than portraying a walking tree, or they left the Village for other, more gainful employment.

  I could see the pirate ship, Queen’s Revenge, under full sail across Mirror Lake. I’d heard they’d added mermaids to the pirate scenario. I hadn’t made it to that part of the lake since I arrived, but I was curious about them.

  I reminded Tony of when we were kids and our grandmother had taken us to Florida where there were mermaids swimming underwater in glass cases. I thought it was amazing, and I wanted to be a mermaid for a long time after that. Tony didn’t remember it at all.

  Of course, fairies were flitting here and there on the cobblestones and the grass. Their bright colors and dainty wings were pretty and annoying. They wore virtually nothing while the rest of us sweltered (and were completely covered up) in real-life Renaissance clothing. They were a bunch of flirts and troublemakers. I’ve lost track of how many of them have wasted their time flirting with Chase right in front of me.

  By this time, we were at the bakery. There had been some expansion work done in the past season. It looked like the addition of pastries to the regular coffee lineup had been successful for the Brotherhood of the Sheaf. Their breadmaking skills were legendary—which is no doubt what made their cinnamon rolls the best in the world.

  “Lady Jessie,” Brother Carl greeted me at the door. He smiled and patted my shoulder, an odd gesture, since the black-robed monks were normally very hands off. “It is wonderful to see you again!”

  “Thanks. It’s good to see you again, too. I’m ready for the biggest mocha you have with a cinnamon roll on the side. Maybe two cinnamon rolls.”

  Brother Carl smiled wisely. “Man trouble?”

  “Yes, but not the kind you think. The police are in the Village. You know what that means.”

  “Indeed. We heard about the terrible demise of Cesar Rizzo. Are there any suspects?”

  “I think everyone here is probably on some suspect list right now.” I took my mocha and cinnamon roll from a new, young, handsome monk who was too shy to look me in the eye. “Any ideas?”

  Brother Carl shrugged. “One doesn’t like to speak ill of the dead, Lady Jessie. But you know Cesar had a penchant for the ladies.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not sure what a penchant is,” Tony said with his mouth full of cinnamon roll, “but he slept around a lot, that’s for sure.”

  “There have been many altercations between Cesar and ladies he left behind as well as gentlemen unhappy that his roving gaze fell on their lady. I suppose they have questioned Cesar’s brothers?” Brother Carl asked.

  “I’m not sure. Are you saying you think one of them could have chocolate-coated him to death?” I sipped my mocha.

  “Again, this is only my speculation. But there is a lady who Cesar had been wooing. She had proven difficult for him because she had another suitor. I’m not sure who that lady, or gentleman, is.”

  “Thanks, Brother Carl. Excellent cinnamon roll, by the way.”

  “Yeah,” Tony agreed. “But let’s not worry about Cesar. He’s dead. We need to do something about the knights. What about those guys?”

  Brother Carl had plenty to say about the knights, too. Of course, the Village was always rife with gossip. When something happened, it was like a juggernaut of speculation and interest. Before Tony and I had left the bakery, at least five other people had stopped in to chat about Cesar’s death. Each of them had a different theory.

  But because my theory went along with Brother Carl’s, I decided he was right and tried to think of ways to proceed. There was nothing wrong with helping Chase and the police. They could probably use it.

  Outside the bakery, Tony and I ran into Robin Hood and two of his Merry Men. I’d known Robin and Alex, his right-hand man, for years. I lived in Sherwood Forest during the summers that I dated each man. The tree houses were popular with visitors but not so much once you’d lived there. There was no running water or plumbing—but there was plenty of electricity for toaster ovens and, recently, computers.

  “Hail, Lady Jessie.” Robin sketched a short bow. All the Merry Men had to be careful or their little green hats fell off. “Have you seen the Bailiff this morning?”

  Alex laughed. “Of course she’s seen him. They live together!”

  Robin gave him a harsh frown. “Indeed. That is common knowledge. I was being polite, something you’ve obviously forgotten. Prince John and the Sheriff of Nottingham are more polite than you.”

  “What is this politeness kick you’re on, Toby?” Alex demanded.

  Robin, aka Toby, grimaced and shushed him. “No wonder we’re losing out to the knights. Have you ever heard any of them who weren’t polite and well spoken?”

  “I don’t think that’s their appeal,” Tony argued. “You need horses, Robin. Big, white horses to compete with them.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I think you guys don’t need me for this conversation. See you around.”

  “No!” Robin stopped me. “We need help, Jessie. Chase won’t do what needs to be done with the Templar Knights. Have you seen them? Maid Marion ran off to their encampment yesterday. And they don’t think anything of riding into our space in the forest. Something has to be done.”

  “I heard all the complaints this morning. I have to tell you, except for interrupting performances, Chase wasn’t sympathetic.”

  “Ah, that’s where you come in. You could talk to Chase about the problem now that you’re here and you’ve seen it for yourself. You could persuade him to take up arms against the knights.” Robin put one arm around my shoulder and leaned in close.

  “Yeah. Chase needs to get them off of those horses and kick their butts,” Tony agreed in a less quaint style. “I know you can do it, Jessie. He listens to you.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll talk to him about it. But from the way it sounds, the knights are very popular right now. You guys might have to spice up your performances so you get your crowd back. Then Adventure Land would be more likely to listen to complaints about them.”

  Tony nodded. “Like I said—big, white horses. Chicks love them.”

  “Thanks, Jessie,” Robin added. “We’ll see what we can do. Any
suggestions?”

  I didn’t step into that pit of no return. Nothing I could say would really be appreciated by these men who believed wearing green tights and living in the forest was enough for every woman to fall in love with them. Children loved the tree houses, but it sounded like they enjoyed the big black tents, too. Robin and his group of tree dwellers were going to have to find their own way out of this.

  I got over to the hat shop at the stroke of nine A.M. The group of assistants were already being dressed down by Andre for their lack of work on recent projects.

  “We are short ten hats. Ten! We have only a few days before they’re needed at the Stage Caravan. I shouldn’t have to tell any of you about this, but it seems I must do it each day. Now go and get busy. If all of you had worked on the movie Cleopatra, as my father did, they would still be filming it!”

  The assistants ran out of the room, jostling with each other to see who could get out first. I wondered where Andre had found this particular group of young men who seemed more inclined to be squires or jesters than to be working with hats.

  “I’m delighted to see that you’ve returned, Jessie.” Andre sat down on a pretty little chair with delicate needlework on the seat. “I hope having you here will make a difference. These boys aren’t interested in haberdashery. I don’t know why they’re here.”

  A good reason came through the door. Blond hair tousled, blue eyes wide and starlit, the young woman was looking for a green hat to complement her costume. All of the assistants came back from the work area to help her make that choice.

  Andre shooed them out of the sales area and personally helped the young woman, who bought a wide-brimmed, apple green bonnet with pink flowers on it. I played cashier, amazed at what people were willing to pay for a hat. It was a very nice hat, to be sure, but it cost more than I made in a month.

  After the lady was gone, Andre seemed preoccupied. He kept fingering his fashionable yellow and purple scarf that he wore with his yellow tunic. “I can hardly concentrate for thinking about the death of Cesar Rizzo,” he finally told me. “Have you heard anything about what happened?”

  “I was there this morning. The police have decided it was a homicide. That’s about all I know.”

  Andre dropped the red hat band he’d been looking at while I spoke. His face became even paler beneath the graying brown hair. “That can’t be true! Who would want to kill Cesar? There has to be some mistake.”

  “Were you friends with Cesar?” I asked him.

  “No. Not really. But to think of something like that happening here—it’s terrible.”

  “I know.” I tried to divert him, looking around the room that was crowded with hats of all types, colors, and styles. “Tell me what I can do to help make hats.”

  He nodded and pulled himself out of his funk. “Since we make mostly hats that could be from the Renaissance, we use a lot of satin, lace, and other older materials. Sometimes velvet and felt. I try to stay realistic.”

  It was fairly easy to get him talking about his craft. Who knew how much work went into making hats? I’d never been much of a hat wearer myself, but I knew hats were very popular with visitors and residents of the Village.

  I tried on a few hats at Andre’s insistence. One of them was very large and made of red satin. It drooped down over my left eye. Andre adjusted the heavy veil across my face.

  “Hats were used in the Renaissance to disguise oneself when going out shopping or perhaps visiting a paramour. Madam would adjust the veil so that her face was discreetly hidden. She could go about the town incognito, if she so desired.”

  I tried on a somewhat smaller purple velvet hat that fit my head tighter. It didn’t look too bad—except it made the sides of my hair fluff out in a way that was a little too clownlike for me.

  “People even believed that veils could protect them from the plague and other diseases.” Andre talked as he fussed over the placement of my hat. “Of course, they may have been onto something, since the masks surgeons wear today aren’t any thicker than a good veil.”

  I was about to try on another hat when a page announced that Queen Olivia was there. The queen was always surrounded by her jesters, musicians, ladies-in-waiting, and the rest of her entourage. She never traveled alone—which made for a huge spectacle whenever she walked through the Village. Livy loved the spotlight and people taking pictures of her better than anyone else I knew.

  “Good morning, Sir Hatmaker!” The queen sang the words as she floated into the shop wearing a deep rosecolored bodice and a gray and rose-striped hooped skirt. She wasn’t wearing a hat on her bright red hair, but her gold crown was shiny and impressive.

  Andre hurried forth to kiss the queen’s hand. The two of them chatted quietly for a while. He turned to introduce me to her, but Livy waved away the introduction. “We are very pleased to see the Lady Jessie again this summer’s day. We acknowledge her, and her rightful place in the castle, which she has not taken as yet.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” I curtsied to her with a full head bow in deference to her position. It was good practice for when the crowds were around and better suck-up points for getting in trouble later. Livy liked to be recognized correctly. “While I appreciate your offer to allow me to live in the castle, I have chosen to spend the summer at the Dungeon with the bailiff. But I am grateful for your invitation.”

  It was true. While I was with Chase, nothing could move me out of the Dungeon. But if we weren’t together, I’d be all over that invitation. The castle was awesome—large-screen TVs, Internet, and twenty-four/seven meals brought to your room. It was the height of luxury.

  Livy had her closest handmaiden remove her crown and place a large, pink, satin hat on her head. She turned this way and that to study her face in a nearby mirror. “We completely understand your decision, Lady Jessie. Forsooth, if the bailiff asked us to live in vulgar Village housing, we would abdicate our position at the castle immediately.” She giggled a little. “He is a handsome devil, is he not? We noticed him at once when he first came to our Village. He fought for us as our champion for a few years.”

  I knew this, of course. Chase had started here as the Black Knight—the bad guy in the jousts. He soon found employment at the castle acting as the Queen’s Protector and Champion. Lucky for me that was over when I got here. Not that Chase noticed me right away. It took him awhile, although we were friends for a long time before we were lovers. Let’s face it—there are plenty of beautiful ladies in the Village, and I’m not talking about the fairies either.

  While we discussed hats and the queen’s wardrobe, there was a disturbance outside the hat shop. The queen’s entourage tried to stop the two men from entering, but they thrust their way through the door. A commotion followed as jesters, and even one of the queen’s champions, continued trying to hold them back. But Bernardo and Marco were excellent swordsmen. No one tried too hard in the face of their flashing blades.

  “We are here to avenge our brother’s death!” Bernardo yelled. “Stand and defend yourself, hatmaker!”

  Six

  The Three Chocolatiers (two, really, now) were always a sight to behold. They did elaborate shows of swordplay in the Village outside their shop each day. All three brothers were handsome, virile specimens of manhood. Wrap that up in red and gold costumes that featured capes, knee-high boots and large, plumed hats, and you have the best chocolate commercial ever.

  The chocolate was really good, too. They formed it into cute little shapes. I think the mainstay was hearts wrapped in red foil, but there were also doves, dragons, and the pièce de résistance was the giant chocolate sword. Five pounds and a month’s salary for a Village resident. I’d never had one, but I’d seen plenty of them around the Village, usually devoured by some large Viking or knight.

  I wasn’t sure what the brothers would do without the third Chocolatier. Everything was based on the three brothers. Bernardo and Marco looked a little lame without Cesar. And I certainly didn’t understand why they
had chosen Andre for vengeance.

  But there they stood with their swords pointed at Andre’s chest. Without warning, Andre fell to the cloth-covered floor in a dead faint. A few of his assistants hurried to his side, disregarding the swords still held in his general direction.

  I wasn’t sure what would happen next. Fortunately, Livy chose to exert her royal presence with the men. “What do you think you are doing? How dare you threaten our hatmaker and confidant? Have you taken leave of your senses? You have raised your swords in our presence. We have a good mind to call our bailiff and have him put you both in the stocks.”

  Bernardo looked at Marco, then they both dropped to their knees, groveling to their queen. “It is the sorrow and grief we feel for our brother who was murdered most violently whilst making chocolate this morning, your majesty,” Bernardo explained.

  “And when we learned that the hatmaker was to blame, we, of course, came to avenge our brother’s death,” Marco added. “We beg leave to skewer the culprit, your majesty. We demand justice for Cesar.”

  Livy tapped her chin with her bright red fingernail. “You have a grievance, gentlemen. We understand and appreciate your position. But this is neither the time nor the place. My new hats are not as yet ready. Killing Andre would be very bad for my wardrobe. I forbid it.”

  Bernardo and Marco argued with Queen Olivia, but the verdict was set. They were welcome to get revenge after the King’s Feast in two weeks when her hats would be ready, but not before. Such are the ways of the Village.

  A moment later, Chase was there to sort through what was happening. He had a quick smile for me and a kiss for the queen’s hand, but then he was all business.

  Andre had revived but was still sitting on the floor. His suck-up assistants were gathered around him, rubbing his head and handing him a glass of water. I didn’t bother to intrude, but the Two Chocolatiers’ accusation about him was intriguing.

  “What’s this all about?” Chase demanded.