21
“Did you wear these slippers the night of the murder or the morning after?” Ellie dropped the pair back into the hamper and ran to the sink to wash her hands.
“I sent the slippers I wore that night with the police. They took my nightgown as well. They did the same with Sybelle’s nightgown and slippers. That has to be one of the other pairs.”
“Wren, where are the other pairs?”
“The pair Neirin’s Department Store sent? I don't know.” Shaking, Wren rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I'm getting a headache. This can't be happening.”
Hands to cheeks, Wren ran to look under her bed again. Her slippers weren't there. Running back to the closet, she began to yank through the pairs of shoes Neirin’s had sent as replacements looking for the other pair of slippers. She couldn't find them.
“Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Stop it! Keep it together! You have to keep it together!”
“Wren? Who are you talking to?”
“What?” Wren dropped her black stiletto, took a step back, and rubbed a hand over her forehead.
“Wren, are you okay?”
“I don't know. My head hurts. I have to find the other pair of slippers. We'll have to tell Mr. Gabriel about this when he gets here. I don't understand.”
“Here, come sit down. I think you're having a panic attack or something. I'm going to wash my hands and call down to Davies. He'll show Mr. Gabriel up.” Eyes on Wren, she slid into the bathroom and was back in seconds.
Ellie called down to Mr. Davies’s sitting room and relayed the message without giving any details. She also asked tea to be brought up and some fresh biscuits.
“I'm going to get you some water and aspirin. Just stay seated, okay?”
Wren nodded, her fingertips massaging her temples. “Thanks, Ellie,” she whispered as she swallowed the aspirin Ellie had brought back from the bathroom. “I think everything is finally getting to me.”
“It's bound to, Wren. Your dad was murdered. The knife was found in your room and now these slippers in this room. I don't know why this is happening.”
“Neither do I. The pair I wore that night are with the police. The second, back-up pair should be in my room. This is either the new pair I ordered from Neirin’s, but I don’t understand.”
“Take a deep breath. Mr. Gabriel should be here soon, and we’ll tell him about it.”
“Oh my gosh!”
The water she was taking from Wren’s hand spilled as Ellie jerked backward. “What?”
“Ellie! I just realized something!”
“Obviously. What is it?” Wiping the water with a towel from her apron, Wren's friend shook her head.
“The burglars! If they didn't break in to do harm or steal something, maybe they came to plant something!”
“Your slippers? How would they have those?”
“Someone could have gotten into my closet and taken the extra pair I had. They could have kept them to bring back later. To frame me. I don't know.”
“Someone got them? Then burglars brought them back out of the kindness of their hearts?” Eyes widening with a laugh, “Oh, my. Get it? Their hearts? Your slippers have hearts on them?”
“Le, yes, I get it. Ha, ha. Na, Ellie, this could be why they came!”
“It doesn't make sense, Wren. Why couldn't the same person who took them put them back? I mean, why have burglars break into a castle, fortified with an alarm, guards, and a police patrol to plant your slippers?”
“Okay, it sounds a lot more farfetched when you say it like that, but it's a possibility, isn't it?”
“Suuuuuurrrrre. Magic is real too.”
“Ellie! I'm being serious. Ouch!”
“What did you do?”
“My head. There’s a sharp, throbbing pain behind my eyes. It hurts so much. I think I need to lie down.”
“I agree. I think your brain needs a serious rest. Don't think any more on that outrageous theory.”
“It's not outrageous! Oww!”
“Stop yelling at me and go lie down. Otherwise, your stepmother will be in here wondering why we are yelling at each other.”
“She's still up here?”
“She was. Mrs. Griffith went to help prepare her bath and took her tea a few minutes ago.”
“Oh,” Wren curled up on the sofa, wrapping her arm under the pillow. “It hurts really bad.”
“I thought you outgrew this kind of headache. You haven't complained of one for months.”
“They've been coming back. Sometimes worse than other times. I just take something for it and usually can curb them.”
“You should have told me.”
“You have plenty to do.”
“Hardly. Working for your family has been the best job ever. Your dad and Queen Sybelle have treated me more like family. I may help keep your clothes in order, but I think of it as an enjoyable pastime. You have such great clothes.”
“Ha ha,” Wren smiled. “Well, I guess it's a good idea they hired you to help me, and instead, you became my best friend.”
“Everything works out for the best.”
Sharing a smile, Wren closed her eyes again.
A knock sounded.
“Tea!” Ellie announced before opening the door and taking the tray. Wren listened as the tray clinked onto the table and the spoon clanged as sugar was stirred.
“Here, this might help you.”
“Contrary to belief, Ellie, tea doesn't solve everything.”
“Blasphemy! Of course, it does. You know you love it, and you're already smiling.”
“I'm smiling at your obvious enthusiasm. Fine, ugh, sitting up does not help.”
“Nor do sarcastic comments. Drink this. Davies said Mr. Gabriel was on his way.”
“Da. Good.”
They drank their tea in silence for a few moments. Wren felt the warmth spread through her. “A cup of coffee would be nice right now.”
“Beth? What?” Ellie’s voice could be heard over the sharp pounding behind her eyes.
“Did you say something, Ellie?”
“I asked you what you said. You mentioned coffee. Did you want some?”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Yes. You did.”
“I was just joking.”
“Okay,” Ellie raised her brows. Shaking her head, she asked, “Is the tea helping? Are you feeling a little better?”
“It isn't a cure for everything, but yes, it is most comforting. The warmth is restful.”
“By the way, it was nice hearing you sing earlier.”
“Sing?”
“Yeah, weren't you singing or humming or something?”
“Um, na.” Eyes wide, Wren gave her head a small shake. “I don't sing. I sound like a cacophony of cicadas. You know that. Did it sound that bad?”
“Well, now that you ask, I only thought I heard it for a second. You didn't sound bad. Or the sound wasn't bad. So, maybe it wasn't you.”
“Exactly. You know I don't voluntarily screech. Could it have been another maid in another room nearby cleaning?”
Eyes narrowed, Ellie shrugged. “I don't know. I'm trying to think. I thought I heard it in the hall before I came in your room and assumed it was you.”
“Could it have been Sybelle? She’s always humming and singing.”
“El, yes, it might have been. Her door was open. Mrs. Griffith had just taken her tea.”
“I don't know. Does it even matter? I wasn't humming. My head is starting to feel better.”
“Good!”
The phone rang, and Ellie answered the phone before it could ring a second time. She listened for a moment before nodding and saying, “Will you have them come up to Princess Wren's room, please? Thank you.”
“Mr. Gabriel and the detective are here. They’re being shown up now. Queen Sybelle will probably join us here, Davies said.”
Wren took her feet off the safe and tried to sit up as much as she could. Sipping her t
ea, she caught Ellie staring at her. “What?”
“You look pale, Wren. Maybe you should lay down after they leave. Do you want a biscuit?”
“Na, I'm not hungry. Thank you though.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ellie, I'm fine. Thank you. Diolch”
A knock came at the door. Wren took a deep breath and exhaled as everyone entered. Behind Sybelle, Mr. Gabriel and Private Investigator Hunter followed.
“Wren, are you feeling well?”
“Just a headache, Sybelle. I'll be fine, thank you.”
Ellie came and stood behind the sofa. She rested her hand on Wren's shoulder.
“Would it be better if we met in the library instead of here?” Sybelle exchanged a look with Wren and the Mr. Gabriel.
“Ellie made a discovery. We felt we should talk with you first before calling the chief.” Wren explained.
“Oh, no. Was something stolen?”
“Na, Sybelle. It's more like something that wasn't there has now appeared.”
“What?”
“Wren, can you or Ellie show us this thing that has appeared?” Mr. Gabriel frowned.
“Yes. Ellie, would you mind?”
“Not at all. This way.”
“Wren? What is this?” Hearing the high-pitch squeak of her stepmother's voice made Wren feel as if her head was going to start pounding even harder.
“That's what I want to know. Those weren't there yesterday morning when Ellie did the laundry. Were they?” Wren replied.
Everyone's eyes landed on Ellie, who shook her head. “They weren’t there. I normally do the laundry every other day. I came in to make sure I took the towels downstairs. I was going to get in the hamper anyway, but Wren couldn’t find her slippers. I looked in the hamper, and I saw these in there. They were buried under other clothes and towels.”
“Was there anything else in there?” Mr. Gabriel asked.
“I didn't look any further. I was so startled. Wren caught me holding them. We were both so ofnus, scared.”
“Are these the slippers you always wear?” PI Hunter turned to Wren and asked next.
“They are the pair I've been wearing. I have three pairs total. My original pair was sent with the police when they collected our clothes from that night. One pair should be in the closet in my room, and the other would have been in this bathroom. I left them there this morning when I changed.”
“Do they look the exact same?”
“Yes, they do. All of them. I've only worn the one pair besides this replacement pair. The pair I was wearing weren't covered in blood like that.”
“Are they in your bedroom, Wren?” Sybelle interjected.
“Ellie, did you see them the morning of the murder?”
“I wasn’t allowed in Wren’s room the morning of the murder. The extra pair were in her closet when I last saw them. She usually kept her other pair by the bed since she was wearing them. The extras could still be in the closet.”
“Do you mind if I take a quick peek? I won’t touch anything,” PI Hunter asked.
Taking a deep breath, Wren nodded. “I’m fine with it, if you can get in. I know they locked the room. Ellie, see if Davies has a key.”
Ellie led him out of her spare room to find Davies and enter Wren’s police taped, barricaded bedroom. The others stayed behind.
“They weren't here when the police did their search after the king's murder, right?” Mr. Gabriel asked.
“Right. The second pair were left in my room since I wasn’t able to take anything. I don’t recall them having blood on them.” Swallowing, “Most of the blood had soaked into the sheets. As far as I know, these were the replacements.”
“Were these in the hamper when you looked around the room this morning after the intruders left?”
“I didn’t notice. I was too upset. I didn’t see anything missing though, and I didn’t notice the slippers at first. In fact, I don’t remember if I was wearing any when I got out of bed this morning.”
Mr. Gabriel nodded and sighed. “This isn’t good, Wren. If these are yours and the blood matches your father’s, then the chief will have no choice but to take you in for more questioning. I called his office before I came over. He doesn’t understand why four assassins entered this house and took nothing.”
“Wren might have gotten blood on them when she went to check on her father. I don’t think these prove anything. Wren, you were so upset that morning, we all were, so maybe you didn’t realize you had gotten blood on your clothes?” Sybelle turned to Wren, her eyes wide and wet.
“I don’t know, Sybelle. I can’t remember. I gave those pair to the police though. I don’t know where these came from.”
A sharp stab streaked across her eyes, “Ouch.” Closing her eyes, Wren put a hand to her forehead. Her headache seemed to be getting worse.
“Are you all right, Wren?” Mr. Gabriel asked.
“Just a headache.”
“Maybe you should rest for now,” Sybelle suggested.
Instead of answering, Wren just continued to rub her head and block out the pain. PI Hunter, his walk quick and sure, came back into the room with Ellie.
“I didn’t see them, Princess,” Ellie told her. “The extra pair wasn’t in the closet.”
Wren nodded and winced. Ellie hurried to her side. “Do you want more tea?”
“Na, thank you, Ellie. What could have happened to them? Do you or the police have a list of the things the police took, Mr. Gabriel? Maybe they took both pairs?”
“El, I do. I’ll call the office and have Charlotte pull it from your file.” He left the room, and they could hear him making his phone call from the hallway.
“Would anyone like some tea?” Ellie asked everyone.
A chorus of no’s, and then, “Wait a minute.” Hunter's head poked over the hamper, and his hand reached in and pulled out an article of clothing.
Wren looked at him, got up, and moved closer.
“Oh, Wren,” Sybelle murmured in her ear.
“That's my nightgown. I wore it the night father was killed. You saw me in it!” Wren looked as Sybelle and pointed to the stained nightgown covered in similar rust red spots. “You saw me in it! When you screamed, and I came running. It's the same gown!”
“Do you have two of the same nightgown?” Hunter wanted to know.
“I don't think I like what your tone is implying.” Wren blinked her eyes before glaring at the young PI.
“I'm not trying to imply anything. I just asked a question.”
“El. I have two nightgowns. I like sales. I like having an extra of something I know I will wear until it’s old and faded. It's normal for people to do that. Especially when there's a sale. I bought the nightgowns when I bought the slippers. They were half off. The slippers were buy one, get one half off. I happen to like saving money and am conservative in my spending. Is there something wrong with that?”
“Na, it's an admirable quality.”
“Then why are you all looking at me so strange? It's normal.”
“Wren, I think Detective Hunter only meant to ascertain whether someone could have gotten to the second nightgown.” Mr. Gabriel came back into the room and put a hand on Wren's shoulder and patted it. “It is possible someone knows your spending preferences and banked on you having a second of each to take. That will be my argument anyway. By the way, Charlotte is pulling the file and will call back.”
This time, the pounding was Wren's heart.
“How can this be? Do you think they'll believe I did it? Will they arrest me?”
“They'll want to test the blood before they do anything else. Think Wren. What did you do with your nightgown and slippers the morning your father passed?”
“I- I changed.” Her eyes slid closed, and she tried to think back. “I put them in the hamper in the bathroom. Later, Officer Brady asked to collect them. I gave them to her.”
“Were they clean that morning? Did they have any blood on them?” Hunter asked.
“I don’t remember. They might have been clean, but I don’t think they were. I was in such a hurry to get them off.”
Mr. Gabriel nodded, and Hunter continued to stare at her.
“When Sybelle screamed, I ran to see what happened. She wouldn't let me in the room, but I went around her. My hands got--” deep breath, “blood on them. I don't remember anything else getting into the blood. I washed my hands when I came back to my room.”
“You don’t remember anything else?” Mr. Gabriel asked.
“I don't really remember what happened afterward. I changed and went to the library, but everything else is fuzzy. All I remember is when they found the knife in my room, and I was locked inside there.”
“Who locked you inside your room?” Hunter raised his brows and asked, even though he knew the answer.
Wren tried to ignore the steady green gaze he directed her way. Her cheeks began to feel hot, and the thumping in her head began to echo in her heart. “Captain Ward did. He thought I was going to attack my stepmother.”
“What should we do, Mr. Gabriel?” Sybelle ignored Wren's statement.
“Call the police, of course. I have a feeling the constable is going to love this. I hope to get word from Charlotte about the list before they arrive, so I can think about what this could mean.” Mr. Gabriel shook his head and sighed.
“Chief Constable Hector hates me. He'll love this all right. Him and his handcuffs.” Wren rolled her eyes.
“Now, now. Let's not go there. The clothes will have to be tested. Let's not jump to any conclusions.”
“I'm jumping to conclusions. Someone knew I had an extra pair of slippers and an extra nightgown. I think it was the burglars.”
“The burglars?” Everyone exchanged a look.
“Le, yes. It's not that stupid of an idea. They must have sneaked in to plant the bloodied clothes. How else do you explain it?”
“They broke in to plant the clothes?” Hunter's brows formed a “v” over his eyes.
“Wren, now, that doesn't seem logical.” Mr. Gabriel broke in to say.
Gritting her teeth, Wren exhaled and tried not to scream. “Logical? I'm not crazy. It's a suggestion. Why else was nothing taken?”
“Maybe we interrupted them before they could?” Sybelle suggested.
“It’s just like the knife though! That was planted too!”
The Four Tales Page 62
