Jane Vows Vengeance jb-3

by Michael Thomas Ford

  Chapter 14

  Friday: Edinburgh

  As the plane bounced around, first dropping and then rising as the winds carried it like a leaf, Jane fingered the key in her hand and wondered what it would be like to die in a crash. Would the plane drop out of the sky like a stone, or would it somehow glide down before eventually landing in the sea and coming apart? She considered asking Walter to explain to her once more the principles of flight. Walter, however, was too busy throwing up into an airsickness bag to answer any questions.

  “First the ferry, now the plane,” he said as he rested his head against the back of the seat in front of him. “I hate traveling. I’m never leaving home again.”

  The plane dipped precipitously. A collective groan went up from the passengers, and Walter added to the contents of the bag. Jane took the bag from her seat pocket and handed it to him. He took it without comment, rolling up the full one and placing it on the floor between his feet.

  Just in case, Jane looked at the laminated safety card helpfully provided to each passenger. The nearest exit was a few rows ahead of her, and in the event of a water landing she was fairly confident that she could get to the door without too much bother. And my seat cushion becomes a flotation device, she noted. How clever. Although I would be more impressed if the plane could become a ship.

  She tucked the card back into the seat pocket, put her hand on Walter’s back, and went back to wondering what the key Squish had given her might be for. The fact was, she had absolutely no idea, and any guess she might make would be just that, a guess. But she supposed that should she ever come across the door or chest or gigantic egg to which the key fit, she would know to use it. That’s always how it is in the fairy tales, she thought.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Edinburgh,” a pleasant woman’s voice came over the PA system, her calmness belying the shaking of the plane. “Please be sure your seatbelts are fastened securely and that all carry-on items are stored to prevent them from flying about.”

  The plane’s nose dipped noticeably and Walter wailed. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” he asked Jane, squeezing her hand.

  “We’re fine,” Jane said. “Just keep breathing.”

  Ten minutes later, as the plane taxied to the gate, Walter gratefully accepted the bottle of water Jane handed him and drank deeply. Outside the storm continued, and when a flash of lightning lit up the sky Walter gave a little shriek. Jane pulled the plastic window shield down so that he wouldn’t see any further bolts.

  “Have I mentioned how much I hate airplanes?” Walter asked.

  “And boats,” Jane said.

  “Trains are fine, though,” said Walter. “We can take as many trains as we have to. As long as they don’t go in the air or in the water.”

  Jane refrained from reminding him that they were now in Scotland, and that should they want to reach any of the remaining destinations on their tour they would have to once again board one or the other of his despised forms of transport. Instead, she helped him locate their carry-on bags and line up to disembark, a process that was slowed considerably by the fact that most of the plane’s occupants were trying very hard not to throw up.

  The requisite post-flight bathroom visits took a bit longer than usual. But eventually they all were gathered together again and Enid led them through baggage claim to a waiting bus. Perhaps because she was in her homeland, Enid seemed even more efficient than usual, and Jane watched from the bus window as bags were located and loaded into the hold with impressive quickness. The storm showed no sign of letting up, and in fact the rain fell more fiercely now. Walter, curled up in the seat beside Jane, had closed his eyes and was breathing evenly.

  To Jane’s surprise they were taken not to some quaint inn housed in a centuries-old building, but to a sleek, modern hotel in the city’s downtown. It was all glass and sparkle and sophistication, and although she was slightly disappointed that they weren’t staying somewhere more atmospheric, Jane had to admit that it was nice to stay in a place that didn’t smell quite so much of cabbage and Persil.

  Because the plane had arrived rather late, it was now past ten o’clock. Walter, his stomach still unsettled from the turbulent flight, was in no state to go out to dinner. Ben and Lucy were content to perhaps just order something from room service and go to bed, and when Miriam announced that she was going to take Lilith for a walk and then settle in with a book and a can of sugared almonds from the minibar, Jane was relieved. She told Walter that she would come back with something for him to eat, then rode the elevator down to the hotel’s restaurant level.

  She was pleased to discover that the restaurant served until eleven. After looking over the menu, she ordered a roast beef sandwich for herself and a chicken Caesar salad for Walter. Then she sat down at the bar to wait. The nightly news was showing on the television and she watched as the headlines scrolled by, pleased to see that apart from the occasional natural disaster and spot of political upheaval, the world was fairly peaceful.

  “May I join you?”

  She turned to see Orsino Castano standing beside her. He was dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt with the Rugby Viadana emblem on it.

  “I won’t be here long,” Jane said. “I’m just ordering food to take back to the room.”

  “I’m doing the same,” said Orsino. “It seems no one is in the mood for socializing tonight.”

  “I think the flight was a little rough for most of them,” Jane said.

  Orsino took a peanut from the bowl on the counter and popped it into his mouth. “Understandable,” he said. “Fortunately, I have never suffered from airsickness.”

  “Neither have I,” said Jane. “Although I admit that when I was on top of the keep at Swichninny Castle I had a moment when I felt a little dizzy while looking down.”

  There was an awkward silence as Jane realized what she’d said. “That probably sounds very cold of me,” she said.

  To her surprise, Orsino chuckled. “It sounds very truthful to me,” he said. “Hardly the thing one would say if one had thrown a man off that tower, am I right?”

  Jane smiled. “Yes,” she said. “You’re right.”

  “Besides, I do not think any of them seriously believe that you are responsible for McGuinness’s death.”

  “Now that I’m not so sure about,” Jane said. “I think Enid might have a few opinions on the matter that aren’t quite so favorable.”

  “Enid,” Orsino said, snorting. “What does she know? Please, the woman can’t even buy a pair of shoes that don’t look like orthopedic devices.”

  Jane giggled. “They really are awful,” she agreed. “I must say, I don’t see how she managed to attract not one, but two men.”

  Orsino ate another peanut. “She was not so unattractive when she was young,” he said. “I’ve seen pictures. Not that I’m saying she was a beauty, but she had a certain rough appeal. Also, I believe her talent was very attractive to Chumsley.”

  “What about McGuinness?” Jane said. “How do you explain that?”

  Orsino was quiet, watching the television as he ate some more peanuts. Jane thought perhaps he hadn’t heard her question, and was about to repeat it when Orsino spoke. “Ryan McGuinness was a man of opportunity,” he said. “And he did not care who offered the opportunity.”

  “You mean he was using Enid?” said Jane.

  “They were using each other,” Orsino said. “Ryan was using her for his career, and Enid was using him for, let us say, entertainment.”

  “A familiar story,” said Jane. “Although usually it’s the man bedding the beautiful girl who hopes he’ll make her a star.”

  “Enid is many things,” Orsino said. “Stupid is not one of them. Ryan too was many things. Honorable was not one of them.”

  “You didn’t like him much, did you?” said Jane.

  “On the contrary,” Orsino replied. “I loved him very much. When I found out he was leaving me for Enid, I could have killed
them both.”

  Jane, surprised, wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “You and Ryan were lovers?” she said.

  Orsino nodded. “Briefly,” he said. “Less than a year. Then I found out about Enid. Even then I begged him to stay with me.” He waved his hand. “It’s all in the past.”

  “Does Enid know?” Jane asked him.

  Orsino shrugged. “Who knows? Ryan was very secretive. And an exquisite liar. He could make Satan himself believe that he was in love with him.”

  Jane hesitated before speaking again. “Enid didn’t seem all that distraught over Ryan’s death,” she said.

  Orsino shrugged. “I think things were mostly over between them,” he said. “There were rumors that he’d found someone else.”

  Suddenly Jane remembered something. “A man, or a woman?”

  “I don’t know,” said Orsino. “I didn’t care enough to find out.” He spoke brusquely, but Jane sensed a note of untruth in his voice.

  Before she could ask any additional questions, the waiter arrived with Orsino’s food. He accepted it and stood up.

  “Good night,” he said. “I hope you will excuse me, but there’s a game I would like to watch.”

  “Football?” Jane asked, knowing the Italians’ fondness for the game.

  “Rugby,” said Orsino, pointing at his shirt with his free hand. “I played at university. It was one time when being heavy and low to the ground was an advantage. Now I just watch.”

  Jane bid him good night. As he walked away, Jane imagined him on a rugby pitch. She knew a bit about the game, at least enough to know that a man built like Orsino would likely be very good at hitting his opponents. Or tossing them, she thought.

  Yes, it was entirely possible that Orsino, if so moved, could lift a man off his feet and throw him some distance. Over a wall, for example. True, Orsino had not been seen on top of the keep, but could he not have very quickly run down the stairs and pretended to have been on the ground all along?

  It was possible, but unlikely. Still, he had reason to want Ryan McGuinness dead. Their relationship might have been brief and ended years earlier, but revenge, as was so often said, was a dish best served cold. Perhaps Orsino had waited for the occasion. Or perhaps seeing Ryan with Enid had been too much to take. Although I think it would be harder on Chumsley, she thought.

  This brought her back to the question she’d been about to ask Orsino. Chumsley. The night she’d seen him coming out of Ryan’s compartment, she’d assumed that Chumsley was angry with McGuinness because of his relationship with Enid. But was it possible that something else was going on? Was it possible that Chumsley too had fallen for Ryan, and had been threatening to reveal their affair to Enid?

  The more she discovered about the members of the party, the more questions she had. So far there were at least four people who might have wanted Ryan dead. In fact, the only person she could think of who might have cared if he remained alive was McGuinness himself.

  “Here’s your dinner, miss,” said the waiter, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Thank you,” Jane said, taking the bag with the food in it. As she walked back to the elevator and rode it up to her floor, she reflected some more on her situation. Truthfully, the death of Ryan McGuinness was the least of her concerns. She was far more interested in finding Crispin’s Needle and in marrying Walter. But she could do nothing about either of those things at the moment, and so the mystery occupied her thoughts.

  She was passing the twenty-first floor and on her way to the twenty-second when the elevator suddenly came to a stop. No alarm went off, so she assumed there was nothing to worry about and that the elevator would begin working again in a moment. When it didn’t, she told herself not to panic. Instead she pressed the button for her floor again, even though it was still lit. When nothing happened, she pressed it again several more times, with the same result.

  “That’s not going to work,” came a voice from the speaker on the elevator’s panel. “So you might as well stop.”

  Jane stared at the speaker. “Who is this?” she asked. “Are you a custodian? Is there something wrong with the lift?”

  The voice laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with the lift,” it said. “I just want to have a word with you.”

  Jane couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female. This was disconcerting, but not as much as the fact that whoever the voice belonged to was able to stop the elevator at will.

  “Don’t worry,” the voice said. “I’m a friend.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me who you are?” Jane asked.

  “Because it’s not important,” said the voice. “I have just one thing to say, and not a lot of time.”

  “Which is?” Jane said.

  “The Needle is real. And it works.”

  “How do you know this?” said Jane, her heart beginning to race.

  A kind of static burst from the speaker, as if someone was trying to talk. The fuzzy words were indecipherable.

  “What?” Jane said, leaning down and putting her ear next to the speaker.

  “Find … key … choice.” The words were faint beneath the buzzing.

  “Find what?” Jane cried. “Where?”

  The speaker went silent. A moment later the elevator began rising. Then she was on the twenty-second floor and the doors opened, revealing two elderly women.

  “Thank heavens,” one of them said. “We thought it would never come.”

  Chapter 15

  Saturday: Edinburgh

  “Does it ever not rain in Scotland?”

  Jane looked up at the sky, which was filled with dark clouds. She was wearing a blue raincoat and red rain hat purchased minutes ago from the shop outside which she stood with Walter, Lucy, and Ben. Somehow she had forgotten her rain gear in Ireland, and so had been forced to buy new things. The hat was a bit too large for her, and the brim hung down all the way around. She felt ridiculous, but at least she was dry.

  “You look like Paddington bear,” Ben remarked. “Sarah has one, and he’s wearing the same getup.”

  “All you need is a tag that says PLEASE LOOK AFTER THIS JANE,” Lucy joked.

  “Very funny,” Jane snapped, although secretly she rather liked the idea of resembling Paddington. I ought to get some red Wellies, she thought. I wonder if they have them in my size.

  The sound of laughter caught her attention and she turned to see Miriam exiting the shop with Lilith. The Chihuahua was wearing a tiny blue raincoat very similar to Jane’s. A little red hat was perched on her head, and on her three paws were wee red booties.

  “Oh, Mother,” said Walter, looking sympathetically at Lilith.

  “She hates the rain,” Miriam said.

  “I do not,” said Lilith, although of course only Jane heard her. “I’m quite fond of the rain, actually. She just thinks I look cute in this ridiculous getup.”

  Now ready to brave the elements, the group began to walk through the city. Everyone had been left to their own devices for the early part of the morning, with instructions to meet at their next location precisely at ten o’clock. Jane had not yet told Lucy about her strange experience in the elevator, and it didn’t look like she would have time until later. Lucy and Ben were skipping the house tour and instead going to the National Museum of Scotland, where Ben wanted to see the exhibit of the Lewis Chessmen. They would reconvene for dinner at seven at a restaurant selected by Enid.

  Miriam, to Jane’s dismay, had elected to join the tour, and so it was that at a few minutes before ten Walter, Miriam, and Jane walked up to the front of the Chewgristle Playhouse, where they met the rest of the group—with the exception of Chumsley, who, like Ben and Lucy, had elected to instead visit the museum. His absence had apparently put Enid in a bit of a mood, which at first seemed odd until Jane realized that by not being there Chumsley was depriving Enid of a chance to show off.

  “The Chewgristle Playhouse was built in 1867 by my great-great-great-great-grandfather, Laird Birral,” Enid said as s
he posed on the steps of the theater. “At the time it was the most majestic theater in all of Scotland.”

  “That’s all very well, but can we go inside?” Brodie’s booming voice carried over Jane’s head. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining cats ’n’ dogs out here.”

  Enid set her mouth in a grim line. “Come on then,” she said as she opened the theater doors.

  Once inside they stood, dripping, in a lovely marble foyer. As she looked around, Jane had the distinct feeling of having been in the theater before. Then her gaze fell upon a row of framed posters from various productions. One of them was for a production of He Thinks He’ll Keep Her from 1873. It starred the husband-and-wife acting team of Argyll Peploe and Maisie Longmuir.

  I’ve been here before, Jane realized. I saw that play.

  It all came back to her. The trip to Scotland. The play. Being introduced to Argyll and Maisie after one of their performances and discovering that they too were vampires. But who had introduced them? She searched her memories for the name.

  “The theater’s first and most famous director was Wurrick Ogg Runciman,” Enid said.

  Wurrick Ogg Runciman, Jane thought. Of course. How could I forget?

  This was a very good question, as Wurrick Ogg Runciman had been rather unforgettable. So short that he was rumored to have been a dwarf, Wurrick made up for his lack of height with his abundance of bluster. Also, he wore specially made high-heeled boots and a very tall top hat. Even thus attired he still was barely five feet tall, and if it hadn’t been for his very long black beard and the stream of curses that flowed from his mouth like the Water of Leith, he might easily have been mistaken for a child.

  Runciman was not a vampire, but he ran in their circles. Probably because most of the world treated him like a freak, he knew what it meant to be feared, and found in vampires the family he had never had in real life. He in turn provided the undead with gainful employment, hiring them to oversee virtually all aspects of his theater, from costuming and music to scenery and managing the box office. And of course he used many of them as actors.