Stopping giving orders, the chief constable turned to look at her. His bushy brows raised, and his eyes widened. “Excuse me, Princess? You know who the murderer is?”
Wren nodded.
“Princess, please tell me who it is. Who is the murderer?” The chief’s face was a deep red, and everyone in the room halted their search to stare at both.
Wren stood. She didn’t know how she would say this, but she knew it was her stepmother, and she needed them to look in the right direction. “Queen Sybelle is the murderer. She had means, motive, and opportunity. I know it’s her, and you have to believe me.”
“Princess,” he said, his gruff voice dropping an octave as he took a step toward her. “I know you’re distraught. You have every right to be. I’ll consider this accusation due to your loss, but I must inform you that making such an allegation without proof is not in your best interest.”
“Chief Constable, I know it was her. If you would just listen,” she started.
“Princess Wren, please stop. We’ll do everything we can to find the killer, but I need you to restrict your comments to answering the questions I’m asking.”
Her legs felt as if they were shaking. Head thumping as loud as her heart, Wren swallowed her anger. Feeling her face redden and burn, Wren decided the only way to get them looking in the right direction was to answer the questions. She nodded.
“Am I going to continue to be locked up in here?” Wren addressed the question more to the guards than the police.
“I don't think that's necessary,” the chief constable told her.
The guards behind him flushed a bright burgundy and kept their heads bowed. Wren wanted to feel sorry for them, but by locking her in her room, they had sided with her stepmother. After all these years, she now looked at them as the enemy. She swallowed to keep in her frustration. Yelling at them would not help her situation or make her look less guilty.
“If you don't mind, Princess, I would like to see where the knife was found. I want the forensic team to have a look as well.”
“Wrth gwrs, of course,” she managed, anxious of more strangers coming into her room. “It was right over here, under my bed.”
She led them over and bent at her knees, balancing on her feet, she pointed to the blood red stains. “It was right here. I touched the floor and the bed, but I didn’t touch anything else.”
“Capten Ward?” the chief called.
“Yes, Chief Constable?” Captain Ward stepped forward with flushed cheeks.
“What did you think you were doing locking her back in here when the weapon was found here? Her prints will already be everywhere, and now there is the possibility you all have destroyed other prints as well. Pam hynny, Capten?” Even though he spoke low, his voice carried throughout the room.
“When we brought her here it was more to keep her…” the captain began.
Wren wanted to hear what he had to say, to hear him confess he believed her capable of killing her father, but a uniformed woman approached her.
“Princess, my name is Officer Brady. The specialists are requesting us to ask you to move to another room for the time being. Is there a room you could relocate to?”
“Yes, of course. Will it be a permanent move?”
Officer Brady nodded, and said, “For now, we will want you to move to another room completely. The forensic team will finish in here, but we don’t want anything to be disturbed until everything has been processed.”
Swallowing, Wren nodded. “Of course. There’s another floor above this one, but we reserve it for company, or there are rooms across from my father’s bedchamber.”
“May I check out those rooms before I make a decision. I made need to confer with the chief,” Officer Brady said.
“Absolutely. I can show you them now.” Turning, she saw Brynn and Dewey had appeared in the doorway. They were speaking to an officer there.
“Follow me, os gwelwch yn dda,” Wren told her and motioned for Bryn and Dewey.
Bryn was an upstairs maid who had worked with them for the last ten years. Dewey was a footman in his mid-forties and had been with them his whole life. He had blond hair which was always falling into blue eyes.
“Officer Brady would like me to show her some alternative rooms where I can stay, and I assume the queen. Will you follow us? I’d like for you to know which ones will need to be made up.”
Both bowed their heads and nodded. Their eyes were wide, and Wren wondered how much they already knew. If she was honest, she knew they already had heard everything, including where the knife had been found.
“Please come this way,” she told Officer Brady.
They made a right and walked up the hallway. After a few minutes, they passed her room and began to pass other doors.
Wren gave a mini tour as they went. “To the left is a guest room. The door on your right is a guest room. Both have their own bathrooms. The door straight ahead is a servant’s entrance to this level. It’s stairs.”
Officer Brady nodded and took notes in a notebook. Walking further, Wren turned to the left, down a new hallway. She waved toward the whole wall and halted.
“You are probably already aware this whole wall on the right belongs to my father, the king. He had his own private bathroom, sitting room, and bedchamber. The only doors are the double in the middle. They’re the ones you see there.”
Two doors were open. Guards on either side, as they were supposed to be. Wren felt her throat seize and her heart tug. Swallowing, she took in the scene.
Across from her father’s rooms, which he shared with Sybelle, the doors stood open. Officers were in every room searching. Wren watched some with electronic gadgets they stared at as they walked around.
“The doors across from my father’s room are two guest rooms. Those rooms as well as the two along my wall are reserved for family or very close friends.”
Uniformed officers crossed the hall again, conferring as they went. Wren watched, hoping to hear what they were saying, but their voices didn’t carry.
She stared at her father’s bedroom doors. Ones she’d entered hours ago to find her father dead. He was no longer the king, and her stepmother had gotten just what she wanted.
“With the chief’s permission, we can stay in these rooms,” Wren said.
Flashes of light jerked Wren’s vision to the left. A police photographer was taking pictures of the bed, underneath, and around the room. Another held a camcorder and recorded everything the police did, said, and found.
Eyes staring, she knew she wouldn’t ever be fine with staying here. It wasn’t just her house, her room anymore. It was the killer’s, the police’s. They would always be a part of it now. Memories she didn’t want to have there. College looked better than ever now.
She could almost feel the officer’s eyes pitying her. It wasn’t a feeling she often experienced. Swallowing, head bowed, she couldn’t watch the wreckage of her home. Yet, she couldn’t leave either.
“Officer Brady, I could take you around to the other side of the hallway, which I’m sure you’ve found out is shaped like a ‘u’, or I could take you upstairs. Since there’s a lot going on here, I can take you through the servant’s stairs,” Wren offered.
“Yes, that might be best,” she agreed.
Turning back, Bryn and Dewey trailing behind them, Wren took her to the servant’s door and through to the stairs. When they reached the top, she opened the door and was pleased to see the empty hall.
“Here we have guest rooms along the right wall and left. It shadows the same ‘u’ shape as below. Would any of these rooms work?”
Officer Brady took a look and nodded. “Which rooms would you prefer to use?”
“One of these,” she answered. “Do I have to show you which ones? I don’t know if the queen will want to pick out her own.”
“I understand, Princess Wren. However, if you’ll show me where you would like to stay, I can note it down. I’ll request Queen Sybelle’s decision later
.”
Nodding, Wren went straight instead of going right. She found the room above her own and opened the door. Walking inside, she found the same layout design as her own. Looking around, she faced Officer Brady.
“I’ll take this one. It’s on top of my own, and it will be easy for you to describe or find if needed. Will this be acceptable?”
“Thank you, Princess. This will be fine. I’ll let the chief constable know. Shall we return downstairs?”
Wren nodded. “Let’s go down the front stairs.”
Officer Brady nodded and stepped outside the room. As they exited, Wren turned to Bryn and Dewey. “Bryn, I hope you’ll have Ellie’s assistance, but I would appreciate this room prepared for me to move into. Dewey, please help her with any moving she requires.”
Both nodded and left to follow her orders. Officer Brady had paused to wait for her. Thinking, Wren asked, “Will I be able to get some clothes and things from my room?” she asked.
“Na, mae’n ddrwg gen i. I’m sorry,” the officer repeated. “Unfortunately, the chief won’t allow you or the queen to take anything until the investigation is over.”
“I can’t have anything?” Wren felt her heart pick up speed.
“Na, I’m afraid not.”
Wren nodded and sighed. Shoulders slumping, she twirled to catch the maid. “Bryn,” she called out. “Will you please send Ellie to me the moment she arrives?” she asked, when the maid turned.
“El, Princess. Is there anything else?”
“No, thank you, Bryn.” Wren watched as the two servants disappeared, nodding for Dewey to take leave as well.
“Officer Brady,” Wren spoke as they descended the front staircase. “I would also like to request an update on anything you find out.”
“Le, yes, I will look into it with the Prif Gwnstabl. Officer Ailbe, are you finished in here?”
“Le, the prints have been identified, and they’re from two of the maids. No others have been found. We checked for-” seeing Wren Officer Ailbe paused, “other matter, but there is none.”
Officer Brady nodded, and Wren heard the loud voice of her stepmother.
“Mrs. Griffith, I don’t know what I will do. We’re going to need to call to Neirin’s for new clothing. Get on that immediately,” the queen demanded.
“Figures,” Wren muttered. When Officer Brady looked at her she shook her head and gave a tight smile.
“I’ll leave you to settle into your new rooms. I must get back to the investigation. I’m sorry for your loss, Princess. The whole country is devastated by the murder of our king.”
“Thank you, Officer Brady.”
Sybelle could be heard saying, “Please send down for a cup of tea to be brought to my room. Officers, would you like anything?”
A chorus of no and thank you filled the air. Wren let out a large exhale and glanced at Officer Brady. “No, thank you,” she said, shaking her head. They could hear her voice from around the corner.
“Wren,” Sybelle was around the corner, shoulder to shoulder with Officer Brady in the next instant. “Would you like some tea? Mrs. Griffith is going to prepare a cup. I got the okay from one of these officers.”
“Na,” Wren shook her head, unable to look at Sybelle directly, fearing she’d slap her.
“We will get through this, my dear. I am going to have Mrs. Griffith make some phone calls when I’ve had a cup. I know you’re under a lot of strain and didn’t mean what you said about me murdering your father. We will conquer this.”
Looking up, Wren saw Sybelle’s flushed cheeks, Officer Brady’s stare, and the officers walking in and out of her bedroom.
“No, Sybelle. I don’t think we’ll get through this together. If you recall, you didn’t want me around growing up, and I don’t want around you right now.” Wren shoved past her stepmother and took off in the direction of her bedroom. She wanted answers.
“Captain!” she called to Captain Ward, who stood in the opening of her bedroom with another officer.
“Princess Wren, I’m so sorry-” he started.
“Never mind. Is the chief still inside?”
He nodded and tried to say something else, but Wren shook her head and walked past him. Inside, officers crawled everywhere. Flashes went off, a handheld camera was going over every crook and cranny, and dust layered everything.
“Chief Constable, might I have a word?”
The chief turned from an officer and tilted his head in her direction. “What can I do for you, Princess?”
Advancing into the room, ignoring the officers crawling through her personal things, Wren stared straight at the chief. “I wanted to know if there is anything I can take from my room?”
“Na, I’m sorry to say there isn’t at this time. We are still processing the room.”
“When will I be able to get things from here?” Wren looked at her bed and Mr. Snuggles sitting there.
She was too ashamed to ask for the stuffed bear, even though she’d slept with it for years. He had been her only friend at the private boarding school she’d been forced into attending.
“I can’t say at this time, Princess.”
“I understand. Diolch. Will you be posting any officers here?”
“We will certainly block the doors from the entrance and keep them locked, but I don’t think we have to do that when we’re finished. However, I will expect you and the queen to stay out of the rooms until further notice.”
“Thank you for explaining. You have my word. Will you please keep me updated as much as possible? I want the murderer caught.”
Nodding, the Chief’s cheeks wrinkled into a smile for a brief second. “I understand, Princess. We’re both on the same page. If you’ll come to the station tomorrow to sign a statement of your facts as presented, it would be appreciated.”
“I will.”
He nodded again and turned to the officers still in the room. “Wrap it up, men. Make a list and have the Princess sign off on anything we’re taking.”
“I'm sorry, Princess,” Captain Ward, as the police exited, bowed to her and spoke with his head inclined. “We didn't mean to insinuate your guilt by locking you in your room. We just didn't want you to hurt yourself by attacking the queen.”
His words were a salve to the sharp beats of Wren's heart. Perhaps they weren't ready to accuse her of her father's death. It could be they had been trying to protect her. However, a small suspicion that their blame of her wasn’t for her own protection kept her in check.
“Thank you, Captain Ward. I thought you believed I was guilty. I really don't know how the knife got under my bed. I promise it wasn't me.”
“I know, Princess,” he bowed, his greying brown hair sweeping forward with the movement and then left her to wonder if others would be as easy to convince.
“Princess?” Officer Brady waited for her to exit the room and followed.
Yellow tape, she’d only seen in movies up to this point, was stretched across her door by another officer. Watching him, Wren sighed and shook her head. Turning, she thanked Officer Brady, walked the hall until she reached the front stairs, and made her way to her new room.
“The Queen has taken this room, Princess,” Bryn was outside her new door, waiting for her. She pointed to the room across the hall.
“Is she in there now?” Wren wanted to know.
Brynn nodded, and Wren looked at the door. The spare room her stepmother would be staying in was closed. Wren suspected her mother and Mrs. Griffith were tucked inside.
Turning to the maid, she nodded. “Thank you, Bryn.”
“In here, Princess. I have already put extra toiletries inside for you. There’s also a pot of tea. The Queen insisted,” Bryn added. “I’ve already called Neirin’s department store and asked your personal shopper to send a few articles of clothing over as soon as possible. They’re putting the items on your account.”
“Thank you, Bryn. I appreciate it. I’m going to get settled. Has Ellie returned?”
Bryn shook her head.
“Diolch. Please send her up as soon as she arrives,” Wren reminded her.
“Yes, Miss.” Bryn curtsied and scurried down the hall. Her head bowed low and not looking up, she made for the back stairs. Disappearing behind the door, Wren felt alone.
Wren watched until the door closed, took one last look at her stepmother’s new room across from hers, and entered her new room. The colors were golden yellow and cornflower blue. Since the spares were located on the third floor, she expected to find dust. Running her fingers over a table near the door, they came back spotless.
“I don’t know how they do it,” she muttered.
The windows allowed bright light to pour through as they faced the front of the house. Midday sun was warming the room already. Walking to the coffee table near the chairs, Wren dropped into one.
Tossing around ideas in her head of how she should proceed, Wren came up with one answer. She picked up the landline and contacted her father's lawyers. The royal monarchy had lawyers on retainer for any and all occasions. It appeared she would have need of them.
“Gabriel, Liam, and Williams Law Firm. How may I help you?”
“Charlotte?” Wren recognized the voice instantly.
“Princess Wren? Is it true? Are you okay?” Worry radiated over the line.
“Yes, it's true. No, I'm not okay. I need to talk to Mr. Gabriel, please. Is he in?”
“He just finished with a meeting. Let me alert him to your call. Take care, honey. I’ll be praying for you all.” The woman had been a part of the firm since it began, and she’d known Wren since her birth.
“Thank you, Charlotte,” Wren said, having a sweet spot for the older woman, and waited.
Within minutes, she heard Mr. Gabriel's voice. “Wren, how are you? Is the Queen okay? Please don't tell me it's true. I just heard on the news that your father is dead! What happened?”
“Mr. Gabriel, I think they think I did it!”
“WHAT?” Wren pulled the phone from her ear for a second.
“Has the news shown what's happened? I haven't checked, to be honest,” she asked.
“No, it's just saying the king is dead. What happened, Wren?”
The Four Tales Page 46
