Ghastly Glass

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  Daisy Reynolds took up residence in the chair opposite me and slammed her own tankard on the wooden table. “This place has gone nuts. Have you seen all the stuff going on out there? ”

  Sam, the owner, brought my tankard to me without a word. I drained half of it in a single gulp. “Tell me about it.”

  Chase didn’t get back until almost one A.M. I was still sitting in the same chair when he finally thought to look across the street for me. I don’t know what inspired him, but he was a welcome sight.

  Daisy had turned in after three tankards and a long bout of philosophy about the sword and how it had changed the world. Everyone else left when the Village closed at midnight. By twelve thirty, residents started coming in, whining about their long day.

  “After I heard the banshee, I thought you might be here.” Chase pulled up a chair. “What happened? ”

  “Rafe threw me overboard because I refused to obey his command to eat.”

  “That guy has gone too far.” He started to his feet. “I’ll fix it so he really needs those gold caps.”

  “Never mind. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Jessie, this is stupid. Sometimes things get out of control here. Throwing you overboard is one of those things.”

  “If you get into a fight with Rafe and lose your job here, you won’t be able to help me have the serious revenge I need to get on him.”

  He sat back down. “What’s your plan? ”

  “I don’t have one yet. I need a hot shower, dry clothes, and at least six hours sleep.” I drank the last of my ale and put the tankard down hard on the table. “I saw Death.”

  “I know. I did, too. I can’t believe they found someone bigger than Ross.”

  “No. I mean I really saw Death.”

  “How many tankards have you had? ”

  “I saw him before I got here.” I told him the story. I could tell he didn’t believe me. Not the way I wanted him to.

  “It’s just the new Death, Jessie. They were bound to hire another one. He’s kind of the quintessential figure for this kind of thing. He’s really good if he can scare you since you know he’s not real.”

  “He had a skeleton hand and he didn’t speak.”

  “Next time, run up and kick him in the leg. Maybe that will get his attention. Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.”

  I was exhausted, I had to admit that. And logically, I knew he was right. My clothes had dried on me, and my hair was down in my eyes. It was better to agree with him and go to bed than believe there was a real figure of Death stalking the Village.

  We called good night to Sam, then went out the door and started across the empty street. The swing was empty now, too, although the breeze still stirred it, creating the squeaky noise the ghost had been making. I don’t know why I could easily dismiss the girl in the swing as an actress (even though she was well costumed) but be so frightened of the figure of Death. Chase had disconnected the banshee wail once again, and we started up the stairs.

  “Did you find the pirate with the jerkin I told you about? ” I asked with a yawn.

  “We did. He’s new. I think you scared him. He just started today and was looking for something to put on his back to make himself look tough. He saw us looking at the words on Roger’s shop and copied them. I don’t think he had anything to do with what happened to Ross.”

  “Great! I went through all of this for nothing. I’d almost convinced myself that it was okay that Rafe threw me overboard because I’d found an important link to what was happening.”

  “Sorry.” We reached the top floor, and Chase put his arms around me. “You’re still damp.”

  “I know. I need a shower.”

  “Go ahead. I’m going downstairs to personally rip out that banshee thing. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  The warm water felt fantastic as I tried to put the night’s experiences behind me. Of course I knew none of it was real. And being scared was supposed to be part of the experience. I came to experience that experience, as corny as that sounds.

  By the time I’d washed the lake out of my hair and put on my pajamas, I felt much better. I was calm. Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be. Life at the Village wasn’t for everyone, but I’d decided a long time ago that it was for me, at least a few weeks every year. I wasn’t an actor, but this was as close to reliving history, with a pay-check, as anyone could get. I was with Chase. Life was very sweet.

  “Chase, is there any pizza left in the fridge?” I asked coming out of the bathroom as I wrapped a towel around my head. When he didn’t answer, I looked up. What I saw made my heart stop beating and the blood freeze in my veins.

  There was a scythe, Death’s scythe, I’d swear it. It was lying across the bed with blood or something red on the blade dripping on the sheets. On the scythe were the words Death shall find thee.

  Somehow I walked very calmly to the door of the dungeon apartment and opened it before I let out with a scream that put the banshee’s wail to shame.

  Nine

  I couldn’t sit in the room while Detective Almond and his police officers (including one with a German shepherd) poked through the bedroom looking for clues about who could’ve left the message and the scythe on the bed.

  Debby was glad to have me spend the night with her. I don’t think I was very good company, though, because she fell asleep in the middle of my second telling of my awful evening.

  I stood looking out of the window for a long time until finally the sky above the Village began to get light. I knew half-awake residents would soon be stumbling from their homes above their shops or from Village housing like Debby’s.

  I wondered where Tony was staying now. It would’ve been nice to be with family. He’s the only one I have left in that department. I thought about my parents dying so young and wondered if that was why the figure of Death scared me so much. I wished I had someone with me to talk to about it.

  But it was me, all alone. Chase was helping the police with their investigation. It was for the best that he was with them. Still, I couldn’t help wishing I were lying next to him, safe, pretending the Village was the same place for me now.

  I’d never been afraid here before. Suddenly, that sense of security had been taken from me. Maybe it was a curse for coming down here instead of being at school. I’d told a few lies to maneuver my time off. Maybe it was payback for taking time off out of turn.

  Whatever it was, I was afraid I might have to leave. I knew if I did, I’d never come back. I didn’t believe that would be the end of me and Chase. But it would be the end of an important part of my life. I resisted that idea. How dare whoever was doing this, do this to me?

  Debby slept on through my soul-searching. She even slept through Chase knocking on the door. When I opened it, he put his arms out and I clung to him, burying my face against his chest.

  “What did you find out? ” I asked.

  “Not so fast,” he said soothingly. “You’ve been through a lot. I’ve got something for you. I woke Portia and shook it out of her. You could say it’s a one-of-a-kind costume.”

  He held out his answer to my wardrobe dilemma. It was a man’s britches, but topping them was a black leather bustier with a short-sleeved, red ruffled blouse that went beneath it.

  I tried it on, looking critically at myself in the mirror. With the top’s push-up magic, no one would have any trouble deciding whether I was a man or a woman. The red ruffles in the bodice didn’t do much to keep my breasts from plunging out, but at least the sleeves were short. It would be unusual to see short sleeves on a Renaissance woman. Nevertheless, the strange pirate/craftsperson look was odd yet charming.

  The effect was definitely what Chase was looking for. His eyes lit up when he saw me. “You look great! Let’s go get some coffee and we’ll talk.”

  I looked at myself in the mirror one more time. Maybe if I wore a little more eye makeup I could pull it off. It definitely would suit Roger’s requirements, and I wouldn’t have
to worry about Livy flirting with me again. The idea of that was still too vivid in my brain.

  We walked across the Village to the Monastery Bakery. The monks had added a sit-down coffee and pastry area that I hadn’t tried yet. If they were as demanding about their coffee as they were about their bread, the coffee should be exceptional.

  Sunday mornings were quiet after the late-night revels on Saturday. The main gate didn’t open on Sunday until noon. That gave residents a chance to relax and get ready for the rest of the week, including Sunday night’s King’s Feast, which required a lot of preparation.

  During the Renaissance, it would’ve taken a month to feed the number of people who attended the feast. Fortunately, labor-saving devices were okay behind the scenes. If not, I’m sure there’d be far fewer job applications at the Village.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” Chase asked as he opened the front door to the bakery.

  Already, mouthwatering aromas were wafting from the popular shop. A few monks in their traditional black robes, accented with the red satin sashes, were outside blessing the bags of flour before they were made into bread. They ignored us as we walked by. That’s just as well since they get a little theatrical when they have something to say. And all I could think about was drinking a hot mocha and biting into a freshly baked roll.

  “Good to see you this morning, Bailiff, Mistress Jessie.” Brother Carl bowed a little as he greeted us. “What can I get for you? ”

  Brother Carl was the head of the bakery and of the Brotherhood of the Sheaf. It was unusual to see him taking orders behind the counter.

  “Good morning, Brother Carl. I’d like a latte and a cinnamon bun,” Chase said. “And Jessie wants a mocha for sure, and what are you eating? ”

  “I’d like a cinnamon bun, too.” I smiled at Brother Carl. “I haven’t seen you since I got to the Village. How are you?”

  Normally I’d never ask a monk (or most of the other residents) this question. The answer could include massive drama that would be too much to handle this early in the morning. But something was up for Brother Carl to be out here waiting tables. The monks had a certain hierarchy that never changed.

  “Things have been better,” he replied with a sad smile. “I have been voted out of my position as head of the bakery and lead brother. My brothers have sent me a message of humility.”

  I didn’t know what to say, and truthfully, I was sorry I’d asked. I didn’t really expect him to be so honest with me. The monks are usually closemouthed about what’s going on with their internal politics. “I—I’m sorry,” I stuttered as he handed me coffee and bun. “I hope it all works out for the best.”

  “I’m sure it will.” He glanced up as Brother John came in through the back. I could tell from the look Carl gave him who Carl’s successor was.

  He didn’t say anything else, and Chase and I went to sit down at one of the square block tables and chairs. They were crudely made but effective. I’d heard lots of people call them rustic and charming.

  “What’s up with that? ” I whispered to Chase as we ate. “I wonder how John was able to overthrow Carl that way.”

  “Rumor has it that Carl ordered too many ingredients for the bakery in August and John jumped on him being irresponsible. The other monks were just ready for a change, I guess. Good cinnamon bun, huh? Kind of small though. I think I need another one.”

  I was watching Carl and John from a side angle in the back of the bakery. John seemed to be making his position felt in the new order. I shrugged and let it go. The monks were a strange group anyway. The chances were that no one besides the Brotherhood would ever know the difference.

  “So what did Detective Almond find at the dungeon this morning? ” The cinnamon bun was really good. I licked the sugar off my finger.

  “He decided it was just a prank.” Chase sipped his coffee. “Good coffee, too.”

  “What do you think? ”

  “It would be a lot easier to say it was something serious if hundreds of people hadn’t seen the same phrase written all over the Village during the last few days. It wasn’t blood like it was on Ross. I think it was the strawberry jelly again.”

  “Except for two major issues. Number one, that Death guy was really threatening behind the Dutchman’s Stage last night. Number two, I was in the shower when whoever it was snuck in there and did his Godfather routine. I feel kind of front and center on this guy’s list right now.”

  He nodded. “I know. I think the problem is that Detective Almond has a hard time deciding what’s normal for us in the Village and what isn’t.”

  “Which is where you come in, right? You’re the Village law and you know what isn’t supposed to happen. Like what happened last night.”

  He looked at me over the top of his coffee cup. “Exactly. I told the police that I think there’s something more going on here. I also told them you’re leaving the Village until we figure out what it is. I think it would be okay for you to work with Roger today and go to the feast tonight, but that’s it. I’ll stay close by in case something weird happens.”

  I could feel my eyes bug out and my mouth drop open. “What do you mean I have to leave? You don’t realize what I went through to be here now. I made promises I’ll never be able to keep and lied to everyone I know. I can’t just leave.”

  “Tell me you weren’t thinking about leaving this morning while you were with Debby after we left the dungeon? I know you were scared. Your hands were shaking and your face looked like someone put ghost paint on you.”

  “I was scared earlier,” I acknowledged. “But I’m okay now. No tall, black-hooded guy with a big stick is going to drive me off, Chase. You can’t really want me to leave.”

  He took my hand and stared hard at me. “I want what’s best for you. I don’t want you to be that scared ever again. And I really don’t want something to happen to you.”

  I took his other hand and stared right back at him. “And I appreciate that. But let’s just think for a minute. Who’d want to hurt me? I can’t think of anyone. And it can’t have anything to do with Ross’s death. I didn’t even know him. How can I leave with something like this happening in my favorite place? ”

  “Jessie—”

  “And how would I get my revenge on Rafe? There’s too much to do. Once I talk Roger into taking me back this morning, I’ll be heavily involved with making glass art, but I’m sure I can find some time to help you figure out what’s going on.”

  He shook his head, dark eyes worried. “I can’t let you stay like that. We thought the message at Roger’s was just a copycat. But you were in the building at the time. You found the same message, probably in blood, outside Cupid’s Arrow. It could’ve been written while you were shopping in there. Don’t you see the pattern? This guy might be after you.”

  I shrugged. “Why don’t we go and pay the new Mr. Death a visit and find out what’s going on? I can go see Roger after we do that.”

  I could see he wasn’t happy with my idea, but I talked him into it. We finished our coffee and breakfast, then headed for Death’s Village housing.

  “I don’t see what this will prove.” Chase continued to argue even as we walked across the King’s Highway toward Sarah’s Scarves. He had a listing in his Palm Pilot of where every resident was living in the Village. “Unless you immediately recognize this guy as a former assailant or lover, what are the chances it was really him in the costume last night? ”

  “We can check to see if he still has his scythe,” I suggested. “If he lost his, or we find some large amounts of blood or strawberry jelly, we’ll have him. End of investigation, right? ”

  He smiled and kissed me as we walked. “You’re completely insane. You know that? ”

  “Of course. Why else would I be here? ”

  I told him I needed to get Roger and Mary back together as we passed several green trolls swinging their clubs as they walked. One of them nodded and winked at me. I adjusted my revealing bodice. “I think that’s why
Roger is so abrasive right now. Mary didn’t quite say she’d be up for getting back with him, but I think everything will work out.”

  “That’s a lot on your plate for right now, isn’t it? ” Chase smiled at a group of young witches who giggled as they walked by. “You’re going to solve the mystery of who killed Ross, play matchmaker, and learn to do glass art, all while staying alive. Sounds like a full-time job.”

  “Maybe. But if I don’t get Mary and Roger back together, I may not learn to make glass art, and if I don’t find out who might want to kill me, well, you can see the outcome of that.”

  “Which is why my original idea of you leaving the Village until this is solved is workable.”

  I watched several of the fairies-turned-wraiths as they practiced being scary instead of prancing around with their little sparkling wings, flirting with male visitors. It was such a change of pace for them. I was surprised they could maintain the new role. They were better actors than I’d thought.

  Housing for residents is located literally throughout the Village. Sometimes supply sheds are outfitted with a cot and a few other necessities if all the real housing units are full. The only residents guaranteed a regular place to stay are the shopkeepers, who traditionally live in the small apartments upstairs from their shops. Sometimes they even let their employees bunk there, too.

  Death’s place wasn’t too bad. It was located between Galileo’s tent and Sarah’s Scarves, just off the King’s Highway. I think it was once a thriving incense and candle shop that had closed. Of course, next year it could be a shop again, and the residents living here now would be looking for shelter someplace else.

  Chase stopped and knocked on a door. “I’m looking for Bart,” he told the young man who answered.

  “Bart?” The young man yawned and scratched his head.

  “Death.”

  “Oh yeah. Just a sec.”