“Agreed.” The detective slipped into the room and sat next to the bed. “I do keep telling you my name, but that’s protocol. I’m Detective Hughbert Jamison, of the Groverly Police.” He took her hand. “And this is an official conversation.”
She looked at his hand on hers. “I remember you.”
He let her fingers go. “Let me begin by telling you about a thief named Minnesota Fiddler, who owned your bookmobile, before the county did. She used the secret compartment in the closet to hide a stolen collection of coins.”
“I remember the closet. After you told me about a secret place, I found it, but then I heard gunshots and left.”
“I was able to retrieve the coins and then arrest her when she was caught trying to remove them from her hiding place. She’s in custody. There’s no evidence that you were involved. All this happened while you were in the hospital.”
“Congratulations, I guess.”
“But now, I need you to recall our brief discussion about the Book of Cures. How you and the book disappeared from the Groverly Main Library at the same time. This is a serious and unsolved crime, so I need to question you further. Do you know who stole the book?”
“Wait a minute,” the doctor said. “Is this now a police inquiry?”
Lily blinked. “No, it’s all right, but my mind’s so fuzzy, I don’t know if I can help.”
“I must tell you, your name keeps coming up in various ways. I’m interested in information about Boris Ratchov, Griffo Verkie, Llewellyn Blanding, and the other members of the book club.”
“Can you ask one question at a time?”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to rush you. What about Griffo?”
“He’s Aggie’s nephew, but I’ve never met him.”
“Where did you meet Boris Ratchov?”
“At the Emporium. He did my tattoos.” She reached up to her shoulder and at her touch, her gown slipped down to reveal the top of her markings.
“Is that a red book tattooed on your shoulder?”
She put her hand up to adjust the gown. “There’s also a green and a yellow one. That tattoo represents the many books of my career, all kinds and colors of books as a long time librarian.”
“Do you think someone hit you and the moped intentionally?”
“Someone was following behind me. I thought it was you. Then everything went black.” Her voice wavered. “I’m sorry, but I do feel dizzy. And nauseous. I’ll need some time to remember what happened and when. Things are still hazy.”
“I’ll leave now and we’ll talk more when you’re up to it.” He touched her hand and sought her eyes for a quick glance. Then he followed the doctor, who snapped the door shut.
The doctor turned to him. “Since my patient’s blood pressure shot up again. Let’s eliminate your visits until she’s fully recovered. She’ll rebound soon enough, now that she’s out of her coma. Time will clear her head, and she’ll be able to provide the answers you require.”
“Will you notify me when I can see her again?” The detective scanned his notes.
“Depending on various health issues, she may be released soon. I’ll contact you when it happens.”
With sunshine flooding through the blinds again, Lily sucked on ice chips, sipped broth, and drank mint tea. After a series of tests and a few steps, she felt alert enough to read. She reviewed the material on her nightstand. Then she opened her tote bag and saw the torn newspaper package.
She smiled. In this sudden way… unexpected… unheralded… unsung, but in all its scarlet splendor, the Book of Cures appeared again.
“Incredible,” she murmured. Her machine charting bounded up as memories flooded back of holding and reading the manuscript in her room above Aggie’s garage. The promise of a Book of Cures was real. She remembered pages filled with drawings of the estate, the flowers and herbs.
The nurse stopped in to check her vitals, and Lily hid the book under the blanket. She worked to find her normal body tempo. “I’m just excited to be out of the coma,” she said. “Resting will soon calm me down.”
To make sure she’d be alone, she asked the nurse to close the blinds and permit no visitors. Lily willed her body to relax and turned on the bedside light. Reverting to habit, she removed the cotton gloves from the library kit in the carryall before she unwrapped the newspaper.
Through thin finger protectors, Lily stroked the book that meant so much to her. Gradually, she moved through the pages, caught up in elaborate inked images of vegetables and herbs grown in a strange Alsatian garden. She murmured the names, and admired the delicate drawings.
When she got to the end, she saw the loose seal on the back pocket. Her hands shook as the seal cracked open.
A few days ago, she’d asked fate to give her a few more hours with the book. Now, releasing the dusty scent of time, she slid the thin papers from the back pocket and unfolded them. Faded ink, once blood-red, left pale marks, like ragged threads on a bleached antique carpet. She breathed in and out lightly to keep the spell alive. The book reached back hundreds of years, telling its forgotten tale of herbal mysteries. Of a castle. A duchess. A healer.
Her mind went spinning as she slowly deciphered the French remedies. For the heart and diseases of the blood. For tremors. For growths. Lily noted the ingredients. The volume markings were lost on the brittle paper, no longer visible to the naked eye, but the herbal names remained. Dried lovage blossom. Healing potion of yarrow. Oil of dragoncello. Recalling Aggie’s listing of dangerous herbs, Lily’s hand wavered over other names scrawled on the crumbly-edged paper. Words that still dripped with poison. Heart of foxglove. Crushed monkshood. Fluid of belladonna root. In many ways the healer foresaw the medical applications of poisons. Vaccines and medications gleaned from questionable herbs now used around the globe.
One recipe turned her head dizzy. A tea for memory and invigoration. For love. With five ingredients, marked safe to consume. And lively was the last herb listed. Though Aggie never told her the recipe, Lily had stood in the kitchen while the green liquid was mixed together for book club. She saw Aggie lay the ingredients on the kitchen counter, and although Lily couldn’t read the proportions in the book, the herbal names corresponded.
The fact that she’d sipped one of the ancient remedies in the book made her feel faint. She put the manuscript away to recover her equilibrium. It was time to gather her strength and recover. And then what? She folded up the thin pages and put them back where she’d found them.
During visiting hours, one by one, those who’d talked to Lily when she was in the coma, were allowed to visit again, to tell her about their enjoyment of reading. With each person, Lily gained strength. The farmer expounded on frontier adventure. The coffee shop owner discussed the philosophy of Nietzsche. The feed store clerk revealed “whodunit” in his mystery. Several women whispered favorite passages from romance novels. The insurance salesman only smiled and made a gesture to simulate the cracking of a whip. Each person mentioned the benefit of a bookmobile in Nolan, and no one referred to their whispered secrets. Lily felt better and better, fed by short conversations with her book patrons in Nolan.
When visiting time was over, nurses in crisp uniforms trod up and down the halls on soft-soled shoes, chasing out late-stayers.
Once they were gone, Lily renewed her soul with the magic of the the scarlet-covered manuscript.
Back in his room, Hugh waited for the doctor to contact him about Lily. Before any arrests could be made, he needed the next call to go through to Llewellyn Blanding’s cell phone, with information on the sale of the book. Unfortunately at this point, the salesman and his car were missing.
Griffo bought an ice chest and heavy gloves. He put in a supply of sardines and drank a snifter of fish oil from the cans each day.
At Used Stuff, Sax swept the floor and dusted the furniture daily. He wound up the caged bird and listened to its tinny music, while he practiced knife throwing, per Boris’s instructions. Focus. Grip. Angle. Release.
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br /> Boris stayed busy too, relentlessly hitting the bulls-eye with his golden dagger. He studied maps and made plans, finally deciding it was time to change things up.
Behind bars, Minnesota Fiddler stared out at a bleak and cruel world.
CHAPTER 36
In Lily’s hospital room, Piper reached into her purse and brought out her simulated eau de cologne. “My mother’s favorite. To rub on our elbows.” She uncapped the large container and the intense vapors of pseudo Evening in Paris escaped the captivity of the blue bottle to flood the room.
“Against my better judgment, we’ve decided to watch Griffo perform,” Aggie said.
“It’s a big deal. He’ll perform at the Emporium parking lot,” Piper added.
“We’ll drop by afterward and describe every single minute. I can’t see Griffo turning into a snake charmer and swallowing a sword.” Aggie sighed. “He’s no good with animals or sharp things.”
“Everyone in town’s going. You bring your own seating so the hardware store is sold out of lawn chairs.” Piper rubbed cologne on the back of her knees.
Lily looked over at the bedside books. “I’ll keep busy reading. And when you come back, I have a nice surprise.”
“I have one too,” Aggie said. “Griffo offered all his used books to the bookmobile, but Piper and I studied them. No erotica.”
Lily sat up. “Don’t be too sure.”
“We’d better leave, or we’ll miss the show.” Piper stood up and motioned to Aggie.
“Have a good time.” Lily moved to the edge of the bed and rang the bell.
When the nurse arrived, she helped Lily dress in street clothes.
“Bet you’re happy to go home,” said the nurse. “It’s the high point of any stay.”
“I’m glad it’s quiet.” Lily slipped on her shoes. “I don’t need any more excitement.”
“We’ll finish up your walking exercises.” She fiddled with the room thermostat. “I turned up the heat in your room. If you’re too warm, I’ll adjust it.”
Lily practiced walking up and down the halls with the nurse, then did a solid turn without help and returned to her bed. There she rested, immersing herself in her favorite reading material, the book that belonged in an Alsatian castle. She expected Hugh Jamison to question her soon. With a shrug, she wrapped up the book. “Goodbye, old friend. I’m the one who has read all your secret remedies and now they should be returned to your family.” She slipped the book into her bedside drawer.
Lying on top of the covers, Lily waited for Aggie and Piper to re-appear. She was free to go as soon as the clubwomen returned. Waiting out that stretch of time, she picked up the red flyer and read it again. Then she used it as a marker for her favorite passage in the book of poetry. It was one of her oldest books, its cover flimsy with pages near falling out, a book destined for repair. She felt tired and when the temperature hiked up a few degrees, it sent her drifting off. The slim volume fell to her lap.
Griffo narrowed his eyes to look out of the vardo and frowned at the sight of clouds building in the east. He saw Aggie and Piper in ringside seats at the Emporium parking lot. In back of them, at least sixty folks had hauled in chairs to form uneven rows for a view of his performance in front of a card table.
Taking a few deep breaths, he carried out the covered cage and sack of necessary items. His stately walk to the other end of the lot attracted attention. He put the cage on the table and swirled his black cape. “This is a day you’ll long remember. The first performance of Griffo, the Magnificent.”
The crowd offered a few welcoming claps.
He reached under the table into the large sack.”
Pulling out a musical instrument, he played minor notes on a Zambezi flute. “I am preparing,” he said. “Watch closely.” He whipped off the cover of the cage and slowly opened the door to reveal a big dozing rat snake, curled in the corner.
The crowd gasped. He pushed the flute inside the enclosure near the snake’s head, and played, shifting the instrument across the cage in a wide motion. The snake seemed reluctant to participate, until the end of the flute tickled its tail. The crowd roared.
The serpent twitched and roused enough to follow the flute, back and forth. The audience clapped as the snake swayed to the music. Griffo now knew serpents couldn’t hear the same frequencies as humans. They reacted instead, to the wide movement of the flute. The snake unwound from its coil and began to react more quickly.
Suddenly, he pulled the flute out of the cage and closed the door. His cape undulated as the audience applauded wildly.
“Thank you. Thank you,” he shouted and twirled around in his black cloak. He was grateful for the tattooed lady’s advice to keep the snake in an iced cooler all night and all morning, so the creature would be well chilled and only interested in thawing out. It was the reason he kept the song short.
Lightning flashed as he turned aside to do a quick read-through of the swallowing directions. Then he set the cape billowing and faced the expectant audience.
“Prepare yourselves for the most dangerous, most exciting part of my act, the swallowing of the sword. I am soon to travel the world, and my official debut performance will be with the circus in Groverly, two days hence.”
He waved the sword with a broad gesture. “Feel free to applaud as I endeavor to slip this dangerously sharp instrument down through my body.” Coated with sardine oil, the narrow slice of metal hovering over his head, aimed straight for his throat. The crowd roared the moment the sword touched his lips. He felt numb and weak.
He heard Aggie’s voice fading away. “He’s fainting. The dumb gypsy is fainting.”
Far off in the distance, someone said, “Call for an ambulance.”
Groggy, he felt someone shaking him. “Wake up, Griffo.” He opened his eyes and saw the sheriff.
“Who cares if you swallowed the sword.” It was Aggie’s voice.
His lids fluttered. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Fiddlesticks, I’ll wager plenty other performers panic the first time.”
Griffo shook his head. “I meant I’m sorry about the librarian.”
“What do you mean?” the sheriff said.
“I ran her down and hit her, because I thought she stole my ring.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t mean to hit her so hard.”
“You did that?” Aggie shouted. “How could you?”
“Looks like I’ll be taking Griffo in for questioning,” the sheriff said. “I’ll get some handcuffs. Sorry about that, Aggie.”
The woman in the green-feathered hat pushed open the exterior doors of Groverly Hospital. The halls were empty and quiet as she walked the corridor, looking for Lily McFae’s room. Since everyone in Nolan knew the number, it didn’t take long to find it.
She slipped into Room 3 and saw the patient napping peacefully with a book on her chest. Quietly, the visitor in emerald green came close to read the title of the book resting on the patient’s body, but she didn’t touch it. Bending down to reach Lily’s bookbag on the bottom shelf of the bedside stand, she bumped her hat against the lamp. After she looked inside the bag, she inched open the bedside table drawer.
The room temperature hiked up another degree and the hospital ventilation system bumped into operation. A rush of cool air brushed across Lily’s cheek. She woke with a start and saw a woman wearing a green-feathered hat gone slightly askew. When the woman reached up to fix it, her flowing sleeve fell downward and displayed the bulbous tattoo on her forearm. Then, her arm came down, and she grabbed the newspaper wrapped package from the open drawer.
“Wait.” Lily’s voice quavered. “I know you. Give that book back. It’s not yours.” Alarmed, she sat up and punched the call buzzer. “Stop now, you’re a marked man.” The figure stopped at the door of Room 3. A gleam of metal flashed. A dagger cut through the cool, antiseptic air, directed toward Lily’s heart. In a quick reflex gesture, she lifted the old book on her lap to protect the tattoos that decora
ted her torso. The cover fell off and yellowed, old pages were exposed.
Slooop. The dagger pierced the Table of Contents. Stabbed the Foreword. And plunged into the poem called Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Poetry saved Lily that day. The printed words penned long ago by Emily Dickinson stopped the knife cold.
Lily gasped. Her body shook as the intruder disappeared.
“I know you. I know you,” her voice shouted out toward the hall. Pulling herself together, she realized that she’d lost the treasured book.
Llewellyn’s cell phone rang.
A voice said, “This is the call you’ve been expecting. I have the book in front of me.”
The salesman blinked as he heard tinny trills of bird song fill the line. “When do we meet?”
“You have the money?”
“I do.”
“Then we meet now, before the storm hits. Come to the Used Stuff Store in Nolan.”
“Not the Emporium? That works better because I’m your salesman. No suspicion, see.”
“Not there. I repeat, come to the Used Stuff Store. Make it quick or I’ll deal with someone else.”
Lily waited at the door of the hospital lobby. She reminded the receptionist, “Don’t forget to tell the detective or the sheriff that it’s an emergency. Extremely urgent. Get to the Used Stuff Store ASAP.”
As she walked out of the hospital, Aggie and Piper drove up. “Quick. I’m officially released and we have somewhere to go in a hurry,” Lily’s voice quavered.
“Like home.” Piper opened the truck door and took the bookbag from Lily. “You shouldn’t be carrying.”
“I’m on the trail of the stolen book. Are you game?”
“I’m up for it.” Piper pulled Lily into the pickup.
Aggie pushed on the gas pedal and they roared off.
“We follow the book to Sax and the Used Stuff Store. I’ll bring you up to date on the way,” Lily said.
The Erotica Book Club for Nice Ladies Page 30
