Full of theories about the hat pin that was found in Cesar and how to sufficiently prank Stewart Reiker, I went to meet Chase for lunch.
The mild morning weather had stretched through noon, giving residents and visitors a respite from summer heat. Everyone seemed to be eating outside, covering the Village Green with picnics and blankets, taking up tables and chairs along the cobblestones.
Chase and I had a system for meeting. If he wasn’t where I was at lunchtime, we met at the closest place—in this case Peter’s Pub. Not having instant communications took some planning and getting used to. It was much simpler when my cell phone was in my pocket. But our system usually worked.
Not this time.
I was a little annoyed right away, thinking that Chase had made another run to the forest for the Templars. He probably couldn’t stop to tell me. Sometimes emergencies happened. But the sooner I found a way to take care of the Templar problem, the better.
“Looking for the bailiff?” Peter Greenwalt asked.
“Yeah. Was he here?”
“He was here,” Peter’s sister, Maude, answered. “He had to go over to the Chocolatiers’ shop when the riot broke out.”
“Riot? I’ve been inside working all morning. What kind of riot?”
“It’s that ad Adventure Land put in the paper.” Peter produced his copy of the Myrtle Beach Sun. “I heard there were six hundred applicants when the Main Gate opened. No telling how many there are now.”
“I heard something about a few of them getting out of hand,” Maude added. “I think that’s why they called the bailiff. He already ordered lunch if you want to go ahead and eat.”
“No, maybe later, after I find him.” I looked at the ad requesting young men in musketeer costumes to apply for a job in a chocolate shop at the Village. No wonder it was such a mess.
I didn’t have to wander far toward the chocolate shop to see the long line of colorful musketeers waiting across the King’s Highway. If there were six hundred this morning, most if not all of them were still left. Their bright red, green, yellow, and blue capes and hats stretched like flowers dotting the landscape. Carriages of visitors had to go around the line, while the Lovely Laundry Ladies were displaced from their well, watching from the benches near the fountain and Da Vinci’s Drawings.
I followed the snaking line of every imaginable type of male—some young, some not so young. They all seemed to be carrying swords, most not peace-tied the way they should have been. Someone at the Main Gate was going to get in trouble for this.
Chase was with four security guards at the front of the Three Chocolatiers Shoppe along with Bernardo and Marco. There was still no access to the interior of the shop, so they’d set up a place outside to speak with applicants for the part of one of the Rizzo brothers.
“I hear you ordered lunch but had to leave,” I razzed Chase when I reached him.
“This is the worst employment fiasco since I’ve been here,” he growled. “These guys started sword fighting to show they could handle the part. It kind of created a frenzy for a while, but I think we’re okay now.”
I noticed the large sign, handwritten, proclaiming No Sword Fighting that had been installed on the side of the chocolate shop near the table where Marco and Bernardo sat. “How are they ever going to choose someone to take Cesar’s place? Management would’ve been kinder choosing for them.”
“I agree. How do you hire someone to be your brother?” Chase folded his arms across his chest. “They should’ve worded the ad differently, too. It doesn’t matter so much that they look like musketeers as whether or not they can make chocolate.”
“We’ve got this now, Bailiff, if you want to go to lunch with your lady,” one of the security guys told Chase. “Sorry we had to call you, but it was really getting crazy.”
“Thanks. That’s what I’m here for. We’ll be at Peter’s Pub if you need me.”
Chase and I started across the King’s Highway when Bernardo called him back to the table. The flat surface was full of applications and resumes printed in color, displaying pictures and qualifications for various actors who wanted the part.
“Can you make this go away?” Bernardo pleaded. “Please, Chase. We can’t pick someone to be Cesar. This is cruel and stupid.”
Marco agreed, his sorrowful eyes glancing at the line of men before him. “We don’t need another brother. Bernardo and I can handle it. Maybe we can just hire an assistant instead of a brother.”
“I wish I could help you,” Chase said. “At least they’re giving you a choice. Maybe there’s someone in this line you can work with. Don’t think of it as replacing Cesar. Whoever you hire won’t even be a business partner. Call him an assistant if it makes you feel better. Just get through this and let’s get things back to normal.”
“That’s not going to happen with the shop closed,” Bernardo reminded him. “We need to have Cesar’s body for burial and we need access to the shop.”
Chase could only offer platitudes. It wasn’t up to him. The police would decide when it was time to release Cesar. And Adventure Land had made their decision about the chocolate shop. When it came right down to it, they were the evil overlords, the real kings and queens of Renaissance Village.
Twenty-nine
I was bursting to tell Chase about my hat pin theory, but there was so much noise and activity between the chocolate shop and Peter’s Pub that I held it in. It wasn’t easy.
We were finally situated in a quiet corner at Peter’s, eating the fries and sandwiches Maude had kept warm for us. Still not a good time.
For the first few minutes, Chase spouted anger at Adventure Land’s treatment of the Rizzo brothers. That took almost half a sandwich and most of the fries, not to mention a pint of ale. He finished off by telling me about the snake in the mermaid’s air line and closing down the climbing wall for repairs, leaving a large crowd of angry visitors.
Finally he took a deep breath and smiled at me. “So how was your morning?”
I immediately launched into telling him my plan for pranking Stewart to relieve the Templar problem. Then I told him about the hat pin that should have been in Cesar’s eye.
“Slow down,” he advised. “One project at a time, please.”
Chase wasn’t crazy about pranking Stewart. “I don’t think this kid has any weaknesses to exploit. He’s not like the usual residents here who play by Village rules, Jessie. It won’t be as easy as getting revenge on the pirates for kidnapping you or teaching Robin Hood a lesson by loosening his bow string or even pranking the monks. I think we should wait and let him screw up—it’s bound to happen. Then we can move in on him, with Merlin’s blessing.”
As plans went for vengeance, or even to end Chase’s leadership of the Templars, it sucked. “If he’s the way you say he is, it could take years. I don’t want this to go on for the rest of my life. Or yours.”
“Merlin and I agreed that this is the best avenue of attack,” he said. “Let’s stay with the plan.”
I could see that Merlin and Chase had made the cautious decision and were standing by it. No problem. I could handle this for them. Chase never had to be involved.
Merlin was head of the Magical Creatures Guild, but I didn’t need him either. There were plenty of angry magical creatures out there, waiting for revenge.
Chase listened carefully to my idea about the hat pin that implicated Andre in killing Cesar. “So if we knew whose hat pin it was that we found in his eye, we might be able to figure out who’s responsible. I like it.”
“Could we get the hat pin or at least a picture of the hat pin from Detective Almond? I could go through Andre’s collection and figure out who it matched.”
“There must be a lot of hat pins.”
“Hundreds,” I agreed. “I didn’t say it would be easy. Andre could help me.”
“I like him, too, Jessie. But he’s still on the top of Detective Almond’s list of suspects. Until we know for sure that he wasn’t involved, I think we s
hould keep him out of the investigation.”
That made sense. I didn’t like it and I didn’t want to think about it that way, but I could see his point. “Well, I’ll do the best I can. If I don’t get through all the hat pins by the end of summer—”
“I’ll help you,” he offered. “In my spare time.”
I rolled my eyes. “What spare time—unless you want to prank Stewart.”
“I’ll make time for it,” he promised. “Please don’t try and do anything to Stewart Reiker. Let Merlin and me handle it.”
All the more reason—in my mind anyway—to find a way to get Stewart. Then Chase might have some spare time. Not that I’d want to spend it going through hat pins with him, but at least he’d be away from the Templars.
I wasn’t sure when or where that opportunity would come from. Chase made Stewart sound like he was Renaissance superman. How do you prank someone like that? Yet I knew there was a way.
I left Chase at Peter’s with a big kiss and a hug—not only because I loved him, but also to begin making up for doing what he asked me not to do. He had been called away to another emergency, but not until we’d finished lunch. I could live with that.
Lost in thought as I wandered back to the Hat House, I didn’t even see the young man who approached me until he fell prostrate at my feet.
“You must allow me to serve you, Mistress. You saved my life on the Field of Honor. I am in your debt. Command me!”
I wouldn’t have known him without his black costume, but his words gave him away. It was the young man who’d lost his patience and his horse this morning fighting Stewart Reiker.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital?” I asked.
“’Twas only a bump, my lady.” He smiled, his hand on his heart. “Allow me to serve you. Command me!”
He was quite the charmer, even in green hospital scrubs. I assumed he’d left quickly and without his clothes. He had a cute smile and big blue eyes. A crowd with cameras began to gather around us.
“Not here,” I whispered, thinking fast. “I bid thee rise, sir. Accompany me to the Hat House for some . . . er . . . shopping.”
“Aw, give the lad a kiss, lady,” an older gentleman with a strong Australian accent pleaded as his video camera continued to film us.
“Yeah. He’s a cutie,” a bleached blond in a green tank top said. “I’d kiss him if my husband wasn’t right here.”
The crowd wasn’t going to let us get away without it. It was either kiss the young Templar or stand there as the crowd got bigger. Deciding it was better to give in than try to fight the wave, I planted my lips on his and hoped that would be it.
Too bad I didn’t have the chance to brief my gallant knight beforehand. He totally took advantage of the situation, wrapped his arms around me, and went for the dip.
In the Village, the dip was always the thing. No kiss was complete without it. The man dipped and the lady held up one foot behind her. It was one of the first things you learn in training.
But it was over quickly. The crowd applauded. And my knight held out his arm (part of an IV attached) and we walked away to a chorus of huzzahs. The crowd was happy and no harm done—except for seeing Wanda LeFay applauding with them. Her evil, cold blue fish eyes promised that everyone would know about this within the next hour.
I wasn’t worried about it. Chase would understand once he knew the circumstances. In the meantime, my mind had come up with a true purpose for the young knight at my side. The possibilities spun around in my head like colored butterflies.
“What is your name, Sir Knight?” I asked as we walked.
“I am Lord Robert Johnson,” he replied. “I wasn’t sure if you recognized me.”
“How could I forget?” I kept my hand on his arm, guiding him to the side of the shop. I needed to talk to him but not where we could be overheard. “You said you want to serve me, is that right?”
He dropped to one knee again. “I owe you my life, lady. Whatever I may do to clear this debt, I will do.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” I smiled at him and urged him to his feet. “You’re going to help me prank Stewart Reiker. When we’ve finished, he’ll be a different person. Are you in?”
He smiled back, but his angelic face took on an almost evil aspect. “I would help you with this quest, my lady, whether I owed you my life or not. Tell me what you want me to do.”
We arranged to meet later when I’d had a chance to think about my plan. Lord Robert probably knew some helpful information about Stewart that I could use to our advantage. This was the opportunity I was looking for. I’d have to get some others onboard with the project, but that should be easy. Vengeance went with Village like meat and potatoes.
Thirty
While I finished helping Andre make the purple hats that were due tomorrow, I thought about Stewart—and the hat pins. I couldn’t help it. I had both things on my mind.
Pranking Stewart seemed easy, despite Chase’s warning. Compared to figuring out whose hat pin matched the one in Cesar, it was a snap.
Once the last touches went on the bold purple hats, they were laid in elegant round hat boxes with Andre’s special label. The whole aspect was satisfying and gave me a feeling of creation.
I asked Andre if I could stay and clean up the workroom while he and the other assistants went for a celebration ale at Peter’s.
He glanced around the material-stacked room and nodded. “Is anything wrong, Jessie?”
“No. I’m just not ready to go back to the Dungeon yet.”
“Man trouble again? I swear you and Chase are in and out as much as Doris Day and Rock Hudson! But that’s fine, dear. Take your time. I’m having dinner with Eloise tonight. She called me, you know. First time ever. Perseverance. That’s the key.”
“That’s wonderful! I hope you have a great time.”
“I know we will.”
As soon as he was gone, I started looking at the hat pins again. Every resident who ever wore a hat, past and present, had hat pins. Who knew there had been twenty Bo Peeps with their distinctive blue hats? Thankfully there was still only one pin for that character. Again, with a special group of blue beads on it.
Surely a good picture of the hat pin they found in Cesar could be made available. It didn’t have to be the real thing if Detective Almond didn’t want me to have the evidence, as I felt sure would be the case.
There were so many hat pins with stones of various shades—green, blue, red, and yellow. There were too many pins with green stones or beads of one kind or another. I wasn’t sure I could even tell them apart.
I gave up trying to separate them an hour later. I never realized how many characters with hats were in the Village. Some of them weren’t here anymore, but Andre kept their particular style of hat pin anyway—maybe just in case they came back.
Feeling like I had to cover my tracks—Andre was still a suspect after all—I cleaned up the workroom until I could see the floor again. I wondered what kind of hat pin had been found in Andre’s wife all those years ago. It occurred to me that it might have something to say as well.
To the police, it would only be a hat pin (not that they’d know the unique part by themselves), but Andre probably kept records for the movie stars he worked with the same way he did here. It might be possible to know something about the earlier crime by knowing about the hat pin.
I decided it would be cruel to ask Andre about it. But Neal might be a good source for that information. I knew he was involved, if only as an outsider. I was sure he had a lot of details he could impart.
I closed the Hat House, wondering where I could find Neal after a long day of driving a carriage. Someone fell in step with me as I was crossing the cobblestones near the Dutchman’s Stage. I looked up with a smile, thinking it was Neal—but I was wrong.
Joe Bradley, the newly sanctioned private detective in the Village, was about the same size and height as Neal. Maybe the same age, too. He was at it again—stalking me. But
this time it wasn’t dark and there were plenty of people I knew all around. One call would bring them all running. At least that’s what I told myself. Sometimes it was easier to get attention from the visitors than the residents, who’d seen it all.
I stopped flat near the Jolly Pipemaker’s Shop. “What do you want now?”
“Look, you and I got off on the wrong foot, Jessie. And I’m sorry for that. But we’ve got something in common we should talk about.”
“And that is?”
“Justice for the dead.”
“If you’re going to go on about Andre being a killer—I don’t want to hear it.”
“Wait!” He put his hand on my arm as I started to walk away.
Too fast to really understand what had happened, he was on the cobblestones with a large, booted foot on his chest and a sword at his throat.
Thinking it was Chase, I looked up and smiled at my rescuer. Wrong again! This seemed to be my day for it.
Instead it was Lord Robert, late of the Templar Knights. He was dashing once more in his black trousers and shirt but minus the head covering. “Are you all right, Mistress Jessie?” he asked, not taking his eyes from the man on the ground.
“I’m fine, Lord Robert. Please let him up.”
“Of course.” He moved his foot and sword. “I didn’t want him to offend you.”
“Not a problem. Thanks for the help.”
Joe Bradley got clumsily to his feet, rolling off the cobblestones. He was a large man, like Neal, but the resemblance ended there. He had a tough face with a nose slightly to one side of where it should have been. Too much fighting, no doubt.
“Jerk!” He railed at my rescuer. “Do you know how hard it is to get a new costume from that crazy woman at the shop? If you’ve ripped this—”
“Speak not to me, knave! You accosted the woman I am sworn to protect!”
“Knave?” Bradley laughed. “I’m a madman, thank you very much. In more ways than one, I might add.”
“Off with you.” Lord Robert nudged him with his foot. “Your presence offends me.”
Harrowing Hats Page 19
