Harrowing Hats

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  I also saw the evil twins from the gem shop. They weren’t carrying any jewelry to sell that I could see—and no serfs behind them. They probably preferred customers to be in their lair. To my horror, they approached me. There was nowhere to run and hide.

  Rene bowed his head regally. “Lady Jessie. We wish to apologize again for the misunderstanding between us that led to the unfortunate episode at the stocks.”

  “Dreadful business,” his sister echoed his words. She wore a beautiful black gown that matched his tunic in design.

  “What misunderstanding?” I was still raw from the whole thing. They wouldn’t get on my good side easily. “You got what you wanted. I heard the police questioned you anyway. I guess you didn’t gain as much as you thought.”

  “Yes.” Rene looked down his long nose at me. He was really tall—not many people could do that. “But we were also released. We’re not guilty of anything.”

  “Except, perhaps, wanting justice for our mother,” Renee concluded. Her brother glanced at her sharply. “What?” She got defensive. “It’s true! That man murdered our mother. Is it wrong to want to see him pay for it?”

  Rene put his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Excuse us, Lady Jessie. Renee is overwrought.”

  They started to walk away from me and toward the castle again, but I stopped them. Maybe they were done but I wasn’t. “I can understand wanting justice—even revenge. But what if Andre isn’t guilty of killing your mother?”

  Rene snarled. “We have lived with this since we were children! Of course he’s guilty! Don’t you think we’ve done our research? Everyone else knows he’s guilty, too. They just can’t prove it.”

  “You’re blind to put your faith in him,” Renee said tearfully. “Don’t trust him. You see how he turned on his own here, too.”

  “Seriously—does that make any sense to you? If the crimes were the same, he would’ve killed Eloise, not Cesar.”

  They both blinked at me like large, pale owls. Traffic scooted around us with grunts and a few curses.

  “I don’t know about the murder here, Lady Jessie,” Rene finally said. “But we know he killed our mother.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Why did he kill your mother?”

  “The police said she was having an affair with another man.” Renee announced it as though she’d rehearsed the words many times.

  “How do you know the other man didn’t kill her?” I demanded. “Who was the other man?”

  “We don’t know who the other man was,” Rene confessed, “or if there was another man. I don’t think Andre knew either. It was enough that he thought she was unfaithful. He flew into a jealous rage and killed her.”

  “I know. And used a rare hat pin to mark his kill. Andre doesn’t strike me as being that stupid.”

  “Not stupid,” Renee corrected. “Arrogant and dramatic.”

  I had to give them that. I could see where Andre came off that way, although I still didn’t think he could kill anyone.

  The twins suddenly looked like two kids who wanted their mother back. I could certainly relate to that. And I could imagine Tony and me standing side by side—looking lost and alone after our parents were killed.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent and feel so alone that you can’t even see the world around you. I probably would’ve done exactly the same thing you guys have to prove it. And you’re right. I don’t know for sure Andre didn’t kill your mother. But I really don’t think so.”

  After my admission, the two of them just stared at me. Then the hugging started. Who knew they were huggers? We all cried while we were hugging, then we laughed about the crying and hugging. Lucky thing for us, the visitors went into the castle a different way or we would’ve ended up on YouTube.

  “Thank you,” Rene said finally. “We are deeply sorry about everything that happened between us before. Perhaps we can begin again.”

  “I’d like that,” I said, then decided to test a theory. “I hate to ask you this—but do you know the color of the hat pin that was . . . found . . . with your mother when she died?” I just couldn’t bring myself to go into the grisly details.

  “Why?” Renee jumped at that. “Did you find something?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  They looked at each other again and I could see the psychic mojo all twins possessed passing between them. It happened all the time with Tony and me, too.

  “No,” Rene answered. “We know there was a hat pin and that Andre had given it to her that morning. But we don’t know the color. We never actually saw it.”

  “It was some deep police secret they felt obliged to keep even from her children.” Renee’s voice was bitter.

  I thought they were better off not knowing. Knowledge can be cruel. “I’m sorry I had to ask,” I apologized again.

  “Please let us know if you find anything, Jessie,” Renee said, her voice pleading. “We are desperate for information.”

  I nodded. “Sure. Oh, and, you didn’t kill Captain Jack and dump him in Mirror Lake, did you?”

  “No,” Rene assured me without hesitation. “He sold us the shop and moved to Florida to fish. We still have his phone number if you want to contact him.”

  “No. That’s okay. Just checking.” I was surprised how calm they were about me asking them about another murder. “I have to run. Sorry. See you later.” I waved, lifted my skirt a little, and rushed the last few hundred yards to the castle gate.

  I was beginning to have a very bad feeling about that pink hat pin.

  Thirty-three

  “Nice ankles,” Gus muttered as I passed him at the entrance to the castle. “You know, anytime you get tired of Chase—”

  “I know. Thanks. Really.” I could barely catch my breath. High heat and humidity don’t go well with running. “Have you seen him?”

  “He’s in there somewhere. Have a good one.”

  I kept my backside turned away from him as I slowed my frantic pace. Even with the petticoat and gown I wore, his pinches could get a little painful. He was an annoying man, sometimes, but he had a lot of redeeming qualities, too. It’s probably the only reason he didn’t get pranked by the ladies of the Village every day.

  The Great Hall was crowded, of course. Nobility was mostly on the dais overlooking the arena where the jousts and entertainment would take place. King Harold and Queen Olivia were both there—looking majestic in their matching red and white costumes, gold crowns on their heads.

  They stood apart from one another. Livy looked tearful and pale. Not a good sign. I didn’t see Chase up there in his usual midnight blue and silver tunic, so I began searching the rabble.

  Visitors were still being seated in the stands on either side of the arena. Kitchen staff were moving around—setting places and pouring drinks. That was normal.

  Vendors lined the entrance to the Great Hall, hawking their wares to everyone who passed. I didn’t expect to see Andre there and I was right.

  I saw him with the three sisters in purple wearing their elegant new hats. He’d changed into a formal green tunic and matching hat with a large peacock plume in it. Very dashing. He looked every inch the master hatmaker he was.

  Now I just had to figure out how to reach him.

  I clung to Neal’s hat as though that would draw his attention, but the three ladies seemed to claim all of that.

  I tried throwing my arms up in the air and yelling his name. One of the castle guards told me that madmen belonged in the arena on the ground floor for comic relief during the program.

  There was still no sign of Chase. I was tempted to ask the obnoxious castle guard if he’d seen him. But it was so noisy as the cheerleaders (and I use that word loosely) began revving up the crowd by having them shout “Huzzah!” I didn’t know if he could hear me and I wasn’t sure if he’d pay attention anyway.

  There were only two ways to get from one side of the arena to the other. You could go downstairs to the ground floor,
where the knights would be readying their horses for the joust, and cross the field. Or you could pretend you were kitchen help and cross the narrow space that separated the royal dais from the barrier that circles the opening above the arena.

  Going downstairs would take more time, so even though I wasn’t dressed like a scullery maid or kitchen wench, I grabbed a few plates and napkins, then headed across the walkway, hoping no one would notice.

  I wasn’t halfway across before Rita Martinez saw me. She was the head of the kitchen staff. Her dark curls were damp on her sweaty forehead. Her eyes narrowed. “Jessie! Good to see you. What are you doing in the middle of my dinner?”

  Rita was a very nice person, but she was also no-nonsense when it came to serving meals. I worked for her when I first started at the Village. I’d been working for her when I first saw Chase. He was galloping across the arena as the Queen’s Champion. Even in a suit of shiny silver armor, he caught my attention. His helm was up and he was getting ready to address the queen and receive her favor before the joust.

  I looked up at him and he smiled down at me. It was a moment out of time.

  And suddenly, I knew when my magic moment happened. I realized when I looked up at him that night that I loved him—his kind eyes and sweet smile. That was my time out of time that I realized we were meant to be together.

  “Jessie? You haven’t answered my question.” Rita’s irritated voice totally interrupted the hearts and flowers circling in my brain.

  It was hard coming back from that flashback—like a bad made-for-TV movie—but I had to focus. “Just trying to get across the arena fast.” I smiled and waved but didn’t wait for her permission. I kept on walking. “Good to see you, Rita. Love what you’ve done with your hair.”

  “Jessie!” she yelled back. “You better not try this again unless you want to peel a whole bag of onions by yourself!”

  I really didn’t want to peel a bag of onions or anything else. My kitchen wench days were over. But I needed to reach Andre faster than I could going downstairs and trying to get through everything happening down there.

  When I got across the walkway, Andre was still there, looking for a spot to sit with his ladies. That’s what mattered.

  “I need to talk to you,” I said when I reached him.

  “Not now,” he refused me. “I’m very busy.”

  “I know. But I need to talk to you now. It’s about this hat.”

  He looked at the blue and gold carriage driver’s hat in my hand and frowned. “It can wait until tomorrow. Or at least until after the feast.”

  The ladies giggled at his word play (least and feast—some people are easily amused), and he was still rogue enough to blush.

  “No, Andre. It can’t wait.”

  He huffed and shot me terrible glances that could have mortally wounded me if I wasn’t supercharged with curious intention. “Fine.”

  “We’ll save you a seat, Andre,” one of the purple ladies said. “Right here between us.”

  His eyes were bright with anticipation of his return—and who knew what else. He was a man on the rebound. Anything was possible.

  Reluctantly he let me drag him into a dark corner of the kitchen that was relatively quiet. “This better be good, Jessie.”

  “I don’t know about good, but it’s important.” I explained about Neal, the pink hat pin, and what I’d learned from the not-so-evil twins.

  “And?” he asked, darting impatient glances out at the crowd in the arena.

  “And I think something is wrong. How did Neal know about the hat pin?”

  “Reporters know things other people don’t. Ask him.”

  “Andre—”

  “Jessie—”

  “Am I interrupting anything?” Neal’s voice came over my shoulder. “Oh. There’s my hat. I was hoping I’d find it with you, Andre.”

  Andre’s eyes got wide. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Swayne? Is that you?”

  Thirty-four

  “Of course. Don’t be so dramatic. That was always your worst quality.”

  “What are you doing here?” Andre asked. “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “I’m returning the favor, old friend. You had me investigated—I thought I’d come here and see what you were up to.”

  “Wait a minute. You know each other?” I interrupted the reunion.

  “Shut up, Jessie. Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Swayne (Neal) muttered. “Both of you, step into that storage area over there.”

  Swayne had a gun. I couldn’t believe it—and after I got him a job!

  Andre held up his hands like they always do in the old movies. “Don’t shoot. There’s no reason for violence. I just wanted to know where my money had gone. I got a new accountant this year, and he found discrepancies. I wanted to find out what happened. You were my business manager for twenty years. Of course he’d start with you.”

  Swayne closed and locked the storage room door behind him and stood against it. “I’ll tell you what happened, you self-indulgent moron—I spent all of it. At least all I could get my hands on. When you started investigating me, I pretended to be that arrogant reporter, Neal Stevenson from the Times. I didn’t want you to know I was here until I was ready.”

  “I trusted you,” Andre charged. “You were sleeping with Kathleen and I never even told the police. But I knew.”

  Swayne laughed. “And a sweet little morsel she was. Too good for you. She found out about the money I was taking and threatened to tell you. But I made a big mistake that day—I should’ve killed you instead of her. Kathleen and I could’ve run off together with all of your money.”

  “No!” Andre passionately launched himself against Swayne’s large, beefy body. It was like watching a flea attack an elephant. Andre kind of bounced off him and fell to the floor.

  “You guessed about me, didn’t you, Jessie?” Swayne waved the gun at me—presumably because I was the only one left standing.

  “It was the hat pin,” I explained. “No one else knew but you.”

  “Too bad, honey. You and I could’ve had some good times instead of them finding the two of you here dead in the morning.”

  I wanted to say that he couldn’t shoot us here without drawing attention and getting caught. But the crowd was stomping their feet and yelling “Huzzah!” every other minute. There were trumpeters announcing the start of the joust and galloping horses. He was right. They wouldn’t find us until tomorrow, and by then he’d be long gone.

  I looked around—in a stealthy way, I hoped—for something to use as a weapon. I had my tiny pocketknife but I doubted that would make any difference to him. There were fifty-pound bags of flour that I couldn’t lift without a major effort (too slow to avoid a bullet), smaller bags of beans, and a few potatoes. Not much by way of life-saving equipment. Not really even enough to make soup.

  Andre got slowly to his feet and wiped some blood from the corner of his mouth. “You bastard,” he snarled, hands curled into fists. “You cheating, lying, murdering bastard.”

  “You’re a fool,” Swayne said. “It was easy cheating with your wife and stealing your money. Stupid old fool.”

  Andre was motivated to attack again. This time, I jumped in—what did I have to lose?

  I took the pocketknife and opened one of the flour sacks while Andre pummeled Swayne. I managed to cover all of us in flour. Swayne swore and lashed out at me. I hit him in the head with a bag of beans and tried to get close enough to kick him where it would matter.

  Lucky for us, Swayne didn’t have a chance to recover from our attack. Someone kicked in the pantry door, breaking it off the hinges. Andre and I got out of the way, but Swayne took the full brunt of the door crashing on him.

  After the flour had cleared, Joe Bradley stood there. He had a gun, too. It seemed to me that security at the Main Gate was wasting their time making sure swords and arrows were peace-tied. If people were going to wander around the Village with guns, what chance did swords a
nd arrows have?

  Chase was right behind Joe with two security guards. But Joe had already taken care of the situation. Swayne lay still on the floor under the heavy door. Andre stood on top of the door for good measure.

  “Jessie!” Chase rushed in and put his arms around me. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine now.” I snuggled in close to him. “At least we solved one murder.”

  “Maybe three,” Joe corrected. “I think the police will find Swayne killed your chocolate friend, too. He wanted to draw attention to Andre’s past. I think he was hoping the twins would be blamed for his death.”

  “That doesn’t make much sense to me,” I disagreed.

  “And he killed my brother, who Andre hired to investigate him,” Joe continued. “I followed him here after that. He would’ve killed the two of you if I hadn’t been following him around the Village. He thought I bought his phony Neal Stevenson act. He doesn’t look anything like the real Neal Stevenson.”

  Detective Almond and a few of his officers arrived through a loud chorus of huzzahs from the arena—and probably countless little chicken bones raining down on the jousters.

  Andre and I were covered with flour as we explained (again) what had happened. I smiled, watching Chase talk to Detective Almond after that. The front side of his tunic was also covered in flour where he had pressed against me, but the back part was clean.

  I didn’t want to think what all of us must have looked like when the police arrived. The important part was that everyone arrived in time. No permanent damage done—except maybe to Swayne, who was limping when the police led him away.

  Chase filled me in on what he knew as we walked back to the Dungeon through the quiet Village, showered, and ate dinner. No castle food for us that night, only the finest microwave cuisine and some warm ale.

  “So Bradley wanted to prove Swayne killed his brother for investigating him in Hollywood and followed him here.” I was amazed by the whole story.