Claws for Alarm
Page 25
I looked at the two of them blankly. “Theme?”
“Yes. We want the flavor of the ball to reflect the exhibit that debuts the following week.” She cast an irritated glance in Nan’s direction. “Didn’t you mention that when you brought over the contract?”
Nan hung her head. “My fault entirely. I was remiss. I take full responsibility. It simply slipped my mind, what with all we had going on.”
Violet’s jaw shot forward, and before the older woman could make a disparaging remark, I said, “It shouldn’t be a problem. What’s the theme?”
They both answered at the same time. “The Arthurian Era.”
“You mean King Arthur? As in Knights of the Round Table King Arthur? He’s a fictional character, right?”
“Well, that’s debatable.” Nan pushed back a bit in her chair. “The historical basis for the King Arthur legend has long been a point of controversy among scholars. One school of thought sees him as a genuine historical figure, a leader who fought against the invading Anglo-Saxons sometime in the late fifth to early sixth century. Then others . . .”
“Argue Arthur was originally a fictional hero of folklore—or even a half-forgotten Celtic deity—whom they credited with real deeds in the distant past,” finished Violet. “There is no concrete evidence proving or disproving either theory, but Sir Rodney Meecham, a collector from England, has assembled quite a collection of Arthurian artifacts and memorabilia, which he claims supports the former.” She leaned in a bit closer to me, her voice now a hushed whisper. “Recently, he was able to acquire a very, very rare artifact. It will be shown for the very first time in the United States at our exhibit the night of the gala. That’s why it’s imperative everything be just perfect.”
“I see,” I said slowly. “And just what is this artifact, might I ask?”
Once again they answered in unison. “The grimoire of Morgan LeFay!”
As the two of them beamed at me, I frantically tried to remember everything I’d ever read or seen in the movies and on television about King Arthur and his legendary Knights of the Round Table. I nibbled at my lower lip as I thought, and finally shook my head.
“Sorry. I do remember Lancelot and Guinevere but I can’t quite place Morgan LeFay.”
“She’s a powerful sorceress in the Arthurian legend. Even though early works describe her character as more of a magician, she became much more prominent in later prose works as an antagonist to Arthur and Guinevere. She is said to be the daughter of Arthur’s mother, the Lady Igraine, and her first husband, the Duke of Cornwall. Arthur is her half brother. Oh, she was quite the troublemaker.” Nan rolled her eyes skyward.
“And the grimoire?” I asked. “I’m not familiar with that term.”
“A grimoire is an ancient book of spells. A witch’s textbook, if you will,” Violet answered. “Morgan LeFay’s is supposed to contain the blackest spells in all the world. The jewels that encrust its cover are supposed to act as conduits to her power. Legend or truth? It’s one of those mysteries that make the study of the Arthurian era so interesting. Was Morgan LeFay real or not, and if so, was she truly a sorceress of that magnitude?” Violet paused and let her gaze bore into mine. “There are many people who would love an answer to those questions, including yours truly.”
“Regardless, it’s an important piece of the legend of Arthur, to be sure, and of interest to many historians,” Nan added. “We’re counting on it to attract fresh blood to the museum.”
Violet leaned forward and brushed her hand against mine. “We’ve already contacted the Cruz Police Force about stepping up the security detail for the length of the exhibit, and the gala, of course.”
“Yes, so you needn’t worry about anything, Nora, other than preparing your excellent food,” Nan remarked.
“I can name some of the sandwiches and main dishes after the more popular characters in Arthurian mythology. I’ll just need to do some research.”
“Splendid!” Nan clasped her hands in front of her. “And several food critics will be there. They’re patrons of the museum, so it will be a wonderful opportunity for your shop, Nora. Why, you might generate more business than you can handle.”
“That would be welcome, believe me.”
Violet glanced at her watch and rose. “We’d best get going. The exhibit manager is waiting for us back at the museum. Apparently there are many cases to unload. We may have to give the exhibit the Red Room.”
Nan was shrugging into her fleece jacket. “We’ll give you a key to the kitchen, so you can just stop in anytime to look it over or whatever. You can pick it up later tonight, and do let me know if there’s anything you’ll need.”
Nan bustled out the door, Violet trailing at a slower pace. She paused to lay her hand on my shoulder. “I hear you’ve become quite the sleuth. I heard what you did for your sister, and I read the account of the Grainger case. Very impressive. Like that sort of work, do you?”
“I enjoyed tracking down leads when I was a true crime reporter, so I guess it’s really not that much of a stretch.”
She nodded. “Well, then, when you’ve got a bit of time to spare, stop by my office. There’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you that the sleuth in you should find quite a challenge.”
Her hawklike gaze pinned me, and I thought I’d drop over at her next words.
“It’s a matter that might even involve . . . a murder.”
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