The Mountains of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 1)

by Ward Wagher

  The Woogie was swiveling around in the small office, his large blue eye taking in everything.

  “Monica laughed in her rich tone. “I am not milady. I am part of the hired help. You can call me Monica, or perhaps Mrs. Foxworth, if you prefer.”

  “Well, yes, Mrs. Foxworth. You mentioned some kind of arrangement, which could be beneficial to both of us.”

  Monica looked over at the Woogie and then back at Marple. “Mr. Marple, you may have misunderstood things just a bit.”

  Marple looked confused. In the heated office, the Woogie aroma was becoming pronounced and he started looking a bit pale. “I don’t understand.”

  “Let me help clarify things, Mr. Marple. As you know, Louie, here, is the manager of the Cambridge Arms Hotel. He and his people sometimes have trouble interacting in human society and he asked if I would assist him. I guess you could classify me as the public relations consultant.”

  Marple rocked back in his chair and looked back and forth between Monica and Louie. He gulped audibly and rubbed his mouth with his hand. “You have my most humble apologies, Mr. Louie. I thought you were the desk clerk. I simply didn’t expect… I mean I didn’t realize when Mrs. Foxworth called…” He finally ground to a halt.

  “No harm, no foul,” Louie said. “Sometimes humans misunderstand.”

  Monica cleared her throat. “Okay, let us see if we can get this meeting back on track. Louie came up with the idea of setting up a deal for our guests to move back and forth between our two hotels while under a single reservation. This would be mainly for tour groups, you see.”

  Marple shook his head. “I’m sorry. I have not acquitted myself well here. Of course, Mr. Louie,” he addressed the Woogie, “this sounds like an idea worth investigating. If we can advertise for some tour groups to come through, it would be beneficial for us both.”

  He gulped again. The eau de Woogie was increasingly oppressive in the small office. It was beginning to affect Monica as well, although she was prepared for it, and was determined not to let it show.

  “Yes, you have the correct of it,” Louie said. “Much Centaurans to be made here. Profit for everyone, true?”

  Marple was increasingly fidgety, but pressed on gamely. “I think we should be able to come to agreement in principle. Working out the details should be fairly easy if we can design a good operating agreement. I will, of course, need to get approval from the owners of the Village Inn. I assume you are empowered to make agreements.”

  “I hold the power of attorney, yes.”

  “Very good. Then perhaps,” Marple gulped again. “Maybe now would be a good time to take a tour of the inn. And… excuse me.” Marple jumped out of his chair and trotted from the room.

  It was quiet in the room for a moment. “Perhaps the human is waiting for us to take a tour.”

  Monica was trying not to laugh. “Perhaps that is the case. Why don’t we go out to the lobby. Maybe he will meet us there.”

  The Woogie slipped aside to allow Monica to leave the office first. Before he followed, he quickly turned and one of his arms/tentacles swiped a silver pen from Marple’s desk.

  “A Woogie was at the Village Inn?” Frank exclaimed. “A Woogie?” He thought for a moment. “Okay, from the hotel in Cambridge, right?”

  “Wendy giggled. “That’s right, Frank. He had the idea of putting together a tour in such a way as to set up lodging in both hotels. And get this: Monica Foxworth was with him as the PR consultant.”

  “Now that is interesting. I didn’t know the prime minister’s wife was active in the business community. In fact, I didn’t know the prime minister was married.”

  They were relaxing the sitting room attached to the bedroom in the keep and reviewing the day’s events.

  “It sounded attractive to me, but I really wanted to see what you thought about Foxworth’s wife showing up here.”

  “That is worth giving some thought to, babe,” Frank said. “I don’t know if we could consider the prime minister to actually be friendly to us, but he is anxious to avoid further bloodshed. So, is she a spy, or is he trying to open some lines of communication? What did Marple think?”

  “Marple was rattled. I don’t think he’s had much contact with Woogies before. He had them sitting in that tiny office of his, which, as you know, is heated to about one-hundred-fifty degrees.”

  “At least. And Woogies don’t sweat, they effuse. And how did that turn out?”

  “Our Inn manager was more than slightly humiliated and it took some encouragement to get him to tell me the details of the meeting. I think what happened was he had to make a quick exit at some point to empty the contents of his stomach. That pretty much finished him for the day.”

  Frank nodded in mild humor. “I suppose this is as good a time as any to ask if you think Marple is going to make it as our Inn manager.”

  Wendy tapped her teeth with a stylus as she considered. “He definitely does not have the experience, or even the expertise his resume led us to believe.”

  “I was disappointed in how much I had to show him after he started here. I agree with you about the inflated resume.”

  “On the other hand,” she said, “it seems we only have to tell him anything once. And he has made up for his shortcomings in hard work.”

  “Successful hard work,” Frank corrected.

  “Exactly. We are all learning here, Frank. He is certainly smart enough. If it means getting a decent manager on a backwater world like this, even if we have to do the training, well, I can live with that.”

  “I wish we had known about Monica Foxworth being here. I would have liked to meet her.”

  Wendy grinned. “That was another one of those things I explained to Modest. Don’t keep the boss in the dark when important people drop in.”

  “I would be tempted to fire him just for that. It was sheer stupidity on his part.”

  “No, dear. Ignorance, maybe; but Modest Marple is not stupid. He will not make that mistake again. He actually did not realize she was married to the prime minister.”

  “He knows now, huh?”

  Wendy giggled again. “The look on his face, when I told him, was priceless.”

  “What worries me is that sooner or later he is going to make a mistake that really bites us on the patootie. And it won’t matter whether it was through stupidity or ignorance. And that, Precious, is the toughest kind of risk to measure.”

  “Do you have a replacement in mind, Frank?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “Then let’s stay with the devil we know. We will just have to pay closer attention to what he is doing.”

  “And I am going to have to get in touch with Monica Foxworth and apologize for not meeting her during her visit here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “That wasn’t smart, Monica.” Glenn Foxworth stood with his back to the kitchen counter, sucking on a bottle of beer, as his wife prepared the evening meal. “If the duke finds out you were up at Montora, his fusactor will lose containment.”

  “There would be a lot of rejoicing if he went out in a blaze of glory,”

  “No, Monica, not for us. That kind of explosion would take out anything and anyone in the immediate vicinity, including us.”

  She dropped the wooden spoon into the sauce pan and walked over to drape her arms over his shoulders. “Oh, Bunny, why can’t we just pull out and leave?”

  “You know better than that. I am a contract civil servant. Pulling out like that would ruin my reputation. Carlo Roma would make sure I never worked in the field again.”

  “So we do something else.”

  “Like what? This is what I do. I trained for it and I’m good at it. Do you want to go back to being a clerk in a shoe store?”

  “That is not funny, Glenn. I don’t appreciate you making jokes about my background.”

  “I am not joking, Monica. We have a fairly comfortable life style right now, but the margin is closer than I like. You could easily end up in retail
and I could be back working in a customs shed. And we both know what it would be like to live under those circumstances.”

  She looked at him carefully for a few moments, then returned to the stove without speaking.

  “I am not trying to hurt your feelings, Monica. I am simply trying to explain to you the box we are in. I must finish this contract one way or the other. Fortunately Carlo Roma understands a bit of the conditions I am working under. But he hired me because of my reputation as a problem solver. This is one of the most intractable problems I have ever faced. And I am not trying to be critical of you, my dear, but doing business with the Woogies is not something that would help us if he found out about it.”

  She dropped the spoon into the pan again and put both hands on the edge of the stove as she bent over. “I am trying to understand this, Bunny, but I thought you trusted me.”

  “I do trust you. Implicitly.”

  “Then please give me a little credit for intelligence here. I recognize the risk as much as you do. I am keeping this very low profile. I am trying to line up some other relationships so that when things go to hell in a handbasket as they surely shall, we might have some friends like the Woogies who might possibly be able to help us pull our chestnuts out of the fire. We have our daughter to think about as well.”

  Glenn pulled the bottle away from his lips and set it on the counter top with a clink. “Please forgive me, my dear. I didn't think about the Woogies. Do you think they would do something like that?”

  “I do not know if they would or they wouldn’t, Bunny, but what most people don’t realize is the Woogies are far from stupid. And, they have a high sense of honor.”

  “I don't think this would keep Signe from finishing her degree, and her finding work afterwards is not looking promising regardless of what happens here. But you are right to fit that into the equation.”

  “Of course I am. And I think the Woogies are a good avenue to pursue. Besides, I like them. They are good to work with.”

  “When they are not stealing every shiny bit that isn’t glued down.”

  Monica giggled. “Louie made off with a silver pen from the desk of the manager of the Montora Inn.”

  Foxworth snorted. “Exactly what I mean. But they are oddly likable, aside from their predilection towards collecting trinkets.”

  “If it comes down to the crunch, I hope they would come through for us. We need a bolt hole, and this is one possibility.”

  “Are you working on others?”

  She smiled at him. “Let’s just say I am looking for opportunities. For some reason or other, I did not manage to meet the margrave today, but I intend to make his acquaintance. His wife’s too. I understand she is a sharp business operator.”

  “Okay, okay. Just make sure there is no way for the duke to find out about it. He trusts me little enough as it is. If we tip him over the edge in that regard, my usefulness here is finished, regardless of what Carlo Roma may want.”

  Monica walked about over to embrace her husband again. “Bunny, Monica is always careful.”

  Frank was in the downstairs office at the keep working on the accounts. The size of the screen here made it easier to keep track of the information and Frank had it scattered about the display. The power of the big computer was intoxicating. Frank was beginning to understand the attraction it held for his brother.

  Gerry Blakely eased into the room. He waited until Frank looked up and noticed him. “Goldsmith the jeweler to see the margrave. Are you home for him, Sir?”

  “Sure, send him in. And you should probably stay in the room – I expect we will have a transaction to make.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  Goldsmith stumped into the room, his beady eyes looking enlarged behind the thick glasses. He pulled his hat off as he stopped in front of the desk. He gave a short bow. “Margrave. Thank you for seeing me.”

  “You are welcome anytime, Jeweler. How can I help you today?”

  Goldsmith eased a slim wooden box from his coat pocket. “I thought perhaps the margrave would like to inspect my work before he takes delivery.”

  Frank looked up at Gerry. “Please close the door, Gerry. We are going to get our first look at Wendy’s birthday present.”

  The jeweler slid the finely finished walnut box onto the desk in front of Frank, then opened the lid.

  Frank’s breath whistled as he inhaled. “Lordy! This is exquisite.” He carefully lifted the gold necklace from the box. “What are these jewels?”

  “That is corundum. Either ruby or sapphire depending upon color.”

  Frank worked the necklace in his hands to see it under the light. “This is simply amazing. Mr. Goldsmith, you do fabulous work.”

  “Thank you, Margrave. We try to do our best.”

  “Well your best is a lot better than anyone else I have ever seen. Does the box come with the necklace?”

  “Yes, Sir. The box is included.”

  “Good. I don’t mind telling you if my wife does not swoon over this, nothing will affect her.”

  The jeweler smiled. “That is roughly my intent.”

  “You certainly succeeded,” Frank said. “Gerry, what do you think?”

  The seneschal leaned over the desk to look at the gold. “That is lovely, Sir. You are to be congratulated on your good work, Jeweler.”

  Goldsmith nodded modestly, but he was clearly pleased with the praise.

  “Now comes the fun part. How much I owe you for this magnificent piece of work.”

  Goldsmith began wringing his hands.

  “Don’t worry about the price,” Frank said. “This is worth every centime.”

  “Would the margrave be agreeable to three-hundred-fifty Centaurans?” the jeweler said tentatively.

  “You have got to be kidding!” Frank yelled. “Are you serious?”

  The jeweler was wringing his hands harder. “Please, Margrave. I put a lot of effort into this piece. I would do anything for you, but I must feed my family.”

  Frank looked up at the jeweler and then held up his hands palm outward. “Okay, my mistake. I am sorry for the misunderstanding.”

  “I am sure we could work something out….”

  “Wait. Please. I was surprised your price was so low.” Frank shook his head. “Do you have any idea what a piece like this would fetch on Harcourt, or even on Earth? I am not an expert on this, by any means, but I think it could easily go to five figures.”

  “Ten-thousand Centaurans?” Goldsmith’s face went pale. “No,” he shook his head. “No. That could not be.”

  “Believe it. The gems alone would probably bring several thousand. But you have a rare skill with metals.”

  The jeweler put a shaking hand to his head. “Sir… may I sit down?”

  Blakely quickly slid a chair under the collapsing jeweler. Goldsmith ran his hand through his hair and then looked up. “This may explain something.”

  Frank gave him a slight grin and leaned back. “I’ll bet it explains a lot.”

  Goldsmith shook his head. “You see, I saw the Inn open and some tourists come in, so I created some jewelry with the Montoran crest.”

  Frank leaned forward. “Okay, gold and some of your gems?”

  “Yes, sir. My first lot sold out almost instantly.”

  “And you were charging your usual modest prices.”

  “Yes, Sir. I think I have made a grave error. I was simply thinking about getting funds to keep my girls fed. I didn’t think to check off-world jewelry prices. I am a fool.”

  Frank chuckled. “Mr. Goldsmith, you are nobody’s fool. No one can think of everything. Gerry, is Wendy in the castle?”

  “Yes, Sir. I believe she came in about an hour ago.”

  “Please ask her to come down.”

  “Is it the margravine’s birthday today?” Goldsmith asked.

  “No, Mr. Goldsmith, but I am going to have to show this to her because she can determine how much I should pay you for this.”

  “Oh, no, Sir
.” The jeweler turned red. “You should not ruin the gift that way.”

  “This is simply the right thing to do,” Frank said, “and we are going to do it.” He slipped the necklace back into the wooden box.

  Wendy walked into the room at her usual businesslike pace. “We are full up at the Inn again, Frank. I am beginning to think we should think about adding a wing… oh, hello, Mr. Goldsmith.”