“What?” he demanded back. “What’s up with you?”
I could hear footsteps running up from behind us in the quiet street long before a breathless Grigg reached us. “Chase! You have to see this!”
“I’m kind of busy fighting with Jessie right now. I’ll get to it later,” Chase answered.
“Oh, so this is fighting?” I asked. “I suppose you wouldn’t be fighting if you were seeing Lilly Hamilton, star reporter.”
“What are you talking about?” Chase asked.
“I’m talking about you blushing when everyone was razzing you about her at the meeting. What was up with that?”
“Will the two of you please shut up?” Grigg interrupted again. “There’s another dead man swinging from the Hanging Tree.”
Sixteen
“At least it’s not a real dead man.” I finally stated the A obvious after a group of us had been standing for several minutes at the base of the Hanging Tree. “I mean, it’s just a scarecrow kind of thing with those stupid words on it again.”
“Death shall find thee.” Chase said it out loud. Not like any of us needed to hear it again.
“What do you think?” Grigg asked.
“I think we at least have some idea of what’s going on now,” Chase responded. “This isn’t one particular man. The figure represents the whole Village. Whoever’s doing this wants to shut Renaissance Village down.”
Master at Arms Gus Fletcher and Death, really Bart, had joined us as we reached the tree. Everyone seemed to agree with Chase’s assessment. Even I thought the figure represented the Village since it was wearing a Village T-shirt. It didn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure that out.
“Why would someone want to shut the place down?” I hoped the dismay and horror of the idea didn’t color my voice. “I can’t believe anyone here could be that unhappy. Why wouldn’t they just leave?”
“People are strange.” Bart shrugged. “Who knows what anyone is thinking?”
Wasn’t that the truth? I would’ve never guessed Chase could be interested in that skinny-legged, know-nothing Lilly Hamilton either. Bart was obviously a very wise man.
“This person could be anyone in the Village,” Grigg said. “I think it has to be a resident. Who else would have this kind of access?”
Chase lowered the figure from the tree branch. Grigg caught it in a plastic bag he’d snagged from a nearby trash can. “I wish you were wrong. But I agree with you. It has to be a resident.”
“Wait a minute! What about those times when visitors managed to sneak in and out? You don’t know that isn’t what’s happening now. After all, you can’t be everywhere.” I knew I was again pointing out the obvious, but it had to be said. I didn’t want to think any of the people I saw every day on the cobblestone streets could be responsible for killing Death—Ross—and hurting Roger.
“We’ll need to look at everyone’s past-history profile,” Grigg said in police language. “The chances are we could find the answer right there. I suppose Adventure Land must have that.”
“And that would work if anyone here had ever given a past-history profile,” Chase replied. “We have hundreds of high school and college drama students who have never even voted or held a job other than here. There are probably another few hundred semi-adults who have also never worked anywhere but here. The only thing we really require for employment is a Social Security number and a valid ID.”
“No background check?” Grigg said it as though the very idea violated his thoughts of how the world should be.
“Nope.” Chase shook his head.
“That has to change,” Grigg replied. “You can’t just let anyone run around crazy in here. You have to know if they’re really crazy or not.”
I laughed. I knew this was a serious subject and I was looking at my home away from home falling victim to real thieves and scoundrels, but I couldn’t help myself. “I’m sorry. But most of the people here are hiding out from one thing or another. Haven’t you noticed? They tend to duck and cover whenever a police officer shows his face. Except for you, Grigg, because you fit right in.”
“I’m afraid Jessie’s right.” Chase agreed with me, which perversely made me angry. “If we get rid of all the crazies, the Village will be empty.”
Grigg took that statement personally. “I’m not crazy.”
If he was waiting for one of us to rush in and assure him that he was right, he was disappointed. He was a middle-aged ex-police officer who spent his time pretending he was a pirate. Nope. Not crazy at all.
“But I think you’re onto something, Grigg.” Chase changed the subject. “We’ve needed to upgrade our system for keeping track of employees for the last two years. I think this might be the push we need to get Adventure Land to take some responsibility.”
Bart agreed by punching one large hand into the other. “Yes. We need a better database on all the people who work here. Or have ever worked here. Systems get so outdated.”
We all kind of stared at him. I wondered where all that tech talk came from. He hardly seemed the type.
“What?” He looked around at us. “Don’t we have a database? I wasn’t always Death, you know. I like computers.”
“I don’t know if we even have a computer,” I said.
“Okay, Bart, you’re my go-to guy on this since I can’t stand computers,” Chase said. “I’ll call the main office in the morning and see if we can get some names to work with. There must be someone who knows who’s being hired around here.”
Someone screeched not too far away from where we were standing. I was fairly sure it wasn’t a soundtrack. There were sounds of scuffling and one of the trash cans getting knocked over at the Lady of the Lake Tavern.
Chase ran that way and the rest of us followed. Sure enough, a group of Robin’s Merry Men seemed to be roughing up one of the minstrels. The odds were not in the minstrel’s favor.
“What’s going on?” Chase demanded when he reached the group.
“We found this knave out here alone, probably looking for someone else to kill,” one of the Merry Men accused. “We were patrolling the area, as you requested, Sir Bailiff.”
“I was out here getting my mandolin from the Merry Mynstrel Stage.” The young man in blue velvet held up his instrument as proof. “They took my hat and tried to shove me in the trash can. I think they broke my mandolin.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he started crying. My heart went out to him. He was very young. Maybe one of those high school drama students Chase was talking about.
“Don’t worry,” Bart told him. “I’ll take care of it for you.”
A moment later he had two of the Merry Men hanging upside down by their feet. Who knew someone so big could move so fast?
“That won’t help my mandolin.” The young musician grabbed his blue velvet hat, whose large peacock feather had been crushed in the fight.
“You want me to shake them until all their money falls out?” Bart asked in the most polite of voices. None of us had any doubt that he could and would do exactly what he offered.
“No.” Chase stepped in. “Put them down, Bart. They meant well. I’m sure they just got carried away. And I don’t think it will happen again, right, Merry Men?”
The Merry Men were all too happy to agree with him. Anything to have the giant figure of Death let them go. Of course, he dropped them all on their heads (hopefully it knocked some sense into a few of them). They lay around on the ground, whimpering and complaining. Chase was certainly going to hear about this from Robin.
“I’ll see to it that you get a new mandolin,” Chase offered the musician. “I’m sorry this happened.”
The musician seemed satisfied with that. He sniffed, wiped his nose on his hat (yuck), and went on his way.
“The rest of you, use some common sense, huh? Did he really look like a threat to the Village or was he a convenient punching bag?” Chase yelled at the Merry Men. “If anything like this happens again, the Forest Guild wo
n’t continue their patrols.”
“Methinks you are too harsh, Sir Bailiff,” said the Merry Man who seemed to be in charge of the group. “Forsooth, we were but challenging the lad to protect everyone.”
“You heard me.” Chase was obviously not impressed with his Village speak. “Don’t let it happen again unless you only want to see the monks and weapons makers out here.”
The Merry Men didn’t say another forsooth or methinks. They started off toward Sherwood Forest to lick their wounds, no doubt.
Grigg said good night (he was already close to where the Queen’s Revenge was docked) but added a personal word of warning. “That was an evil stunt you pulled this afternoon, Jessie. Rafe has declared there must be vengeance.”
I shrugged and bowed. “I await his Royal Smelliness whenever he can drag himself out of the shower.”
“What did you do?” Bart asked me after Grigg left.
I explained what happened and why I did it. “It seemed like a perfect opportunity. And he so deserved it for throwing me overboard.”
“I agree. But you better watch yourself. I hear those pirates can be dangerous.” He smiled at me. “You want me to watch your back?”
He was really the nicest figure of Death I had ever known. Not that I’ve known many, but I’m sure they weren’t as nice as him. I thought about flirting with him a little to make Chase jealous, but I was too tired and I wasn’t sure it would do any good. Bart was nice but not exactly the male version of Lilly Hamilton.
“Thanks. I’ll manage. Rafe and I go back a long way. I know the inside of that pirate ship better than my apartment back home. But it was sweet of you to offer. It’s nice to have someone that cares.”
Bart said good night and melted into the darkness between Sarah’s Scarves and Brewster’s.
I counted to four after we passed the Good Luck Fountain before Chase spoke. “What was that all about?”
I started to answer, but Chase cut me off before I could get a word out.
“And what was all that stuff about me and Lilly Hamilton before Grigg met us by the cemetery?”
“I know you, Chase. When all those guild people were giving you a hard time about Lilly at the meeting, you were blushing.”
“I was not blushing.”
“You were, too. You were super red in the face, and that’s saying a lot with your skin tone.”
“If I was red, it was exertion.”
“You looked guilty to me.”
He stopped walking as we neared Harriet’s Hat House. “I didn’t look guilty. I haven’t done anything to look guilty about. Lilly Hamilton is so not my type.”
“Right. Whatever.”
“What makes you think she is?”
“I’ve seen her looking at you like you’re a six-foot-eight, two-hundred-fifty-pound ice cream cone she wants to lick. Then there was the red face and the guilt. Need any more proof?”
We were standing near the Romeo and Juliet Pavilion. The irony of having this discussion at that spot wasn’t lost on me. Maybe we were star-crossed lovers who were never destined to be together. Our time was sweet but fleeting.
“Proof?” Chase demanded (truly red in the face now). “I’ll give you proof that there is only one woman for me. She’s completely crazy and messed up, but I love her anyway. Any idea who that could be?”
“Lilly Hamilton?” I whispered. He was looming over me with an expression on his face that boded no good. At least not for me.
“No, you idiot. I really think they miscast you in the Village. You should be in the Knave, Varlet, and Madman Guild.”
With that, he kissed me and lifted me off the ground, as he was so fond of doing. Okay, I didn’t really mind all that much. Besides, I was assuming he meant that I was the crazy person he loved, and I could live with that. I wrapped my arms around him and let him carry me into the night.
Then he dropped me into the fountain.
“Chase!” I screeched, coming up out of the cold water with something besides unspeakable passion on my mind. “I’m going to get you!”
The next morning, we were up early and headed to the hospital to visit Roger. Mary was already there but left as we arrived. “Don’t upset him,” she warned. “He’s been through enough.”
“We just want to ask him a few questions,” Chase told her. “If he gets too tired, we’ll leave.”
She nodded and smiled at her new husband before leaving us alone with him.
If I’d thought Roger was a mess the night before, it was nothing compared to what he looked like now. His whole body (at least the part I could see) was black-and-blue with angry red welts. The marks were rounded on his skin. I got down closer to the arm that seemed to have borne the brunt of the attack. I could almost envision the exact tube-shaped weapon that had hit him.
I stood up quickly when I noticed Roger looking at me. He could barely see out of one eye, and his nose was crooked on his face. No casts though, so it appeared as though nothing was broken.
“Roger.” Chase sat down in a chair beside the bed. “If this is too much, just say so.”
“No way,” he kind of slurred. “I want whoever did this, Chase. I can’t get him for a while. Maybe you can. Fire away.”
“Okay. I know the police probably asked you these questions, but I don’t know if they plan to share that information with me. Did you notice anything before you were attacked?”
“No. I was walking through the shortcut when something hit me in the back of the head. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground and Jessie was with me.” He lifted his head a little and tried to smile at me. It was pitiful enough to make me want to cry. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Sure.” I mean, what do you say in the face of life-saving gratitude? “Any time.”
“Was there a smell or a sound that could help us?” Chase persisted. “I know you have experience with this. Whatever you can tell me might help.”
Roger closed his eyes for a long time. I glanced at Chase, afraid Roger had fallen asleep. But eventually he looked at us again. “There was one thing. A faint burned smell, you know? Like something on fire.”
Chase wrote down Roger’s response, then asked, “Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt you?”
“Whoever the crazy SOB was who did this to me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I know. I’ve been lying here all night trying to figure it out myself. Honest to God, Chase, I know I’ve had a few run-ins with people in the Village but nothing that would warrant something like this. I can’t imagine who’d do this, or why.”
Having known Roger for a few years, I could imagine some people who might be willing to beat him up. “Remember that guy with the funny brown hat two years ago? He seemed like someone who might come back for revenge.”
“You mean that pervert I threw out of the Village?” Roger gritted his teeth. “People like that don’t belong here.”
Chase and I exchanged meaningful glances. “That’s kind of what I mean,” I explained. “You were the bailiff here for a long time. One or more of those people you tossed out could’ve come back.”
Roger seemed to consider the possibilities. “In that case, the list of men waiting to kick my ass could be pretty long.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t a woman?” I asked with logical authority in my voice.
“Maybe.” He tried to smile again (I had to look away). “You think Mary got fed up with me again?”
This was all well and good, but where was the serious Roger who’d been such a pain in the butt the last few days? He had the crap beaten out of him and suddenly he’s funny Roger. Go figure.
Chase asked him a few more questions, but it was obvious Roger had reached the limit of his strength. A nurse came in and we left with Roger asking Chase to catch the person who’d hurt him.
“Well that wasn’t much,” Chase lamented as we climbed into his silver BMW parked in the no-parking zone. “I was hoping for more than a strange burning
smell.”
“But that might be important. Maybe the person who hit him works at one of the shops that have charcoal-broiled food.”
“Or maybe,” Chase said as he started the car, “whoever did it didn’t smell like burning at all and Roger was smelling a campfire from Sherwood Forest. As clues go, I don’t think this is the big one.”
“We need DNA and access to hair and tissue fibers from his clothes.” I smiled at him. “My misspent youth craves CSI deduction.”
“That would be nice but again probably not going to happen. Unlike CSI, it could take weeks for the police to have any answers like that.”
“Yeah. And that’s saying they’d share them.” I sighed, depressed. “How are we ever going to catch this guy and save the Village?”
“We have a large force of people at our disposal. Sure, some of them might be IQ challenged, but something should turn up.”
“Maybe we could put out a sign-up sheet for people ticked off at Roger. I wonder if any of them are still around.”
“I know a few that have been here for a while. We might be able to get them to talk.”
I didn’t share his optimism, but I didn’t say so. We’d made up during the night, and I was still in the afterglow where I didn’t want to see him unhappy. We drove back to the Village tossing lots of lame ideas around that really didn’t make any sense.
We talked about Marcus, the Black Dwarf, being a possible suspect. Chase said the little man had a giant-sized temper when he was crossed. Was it possible he was a new convert to the I-Hate-Roger Society? I liked Marcus, but a suspect was a suspect. We had to consider all the possibilities.
Chase had a hundred people waiting to report to him on their Village patrols. Bart was waiting to get a look at the new employee files Adventure Land had promised to send to the brand new computer in the castle.
I kissed him good-bye (Chase, not Bart) and went on to the Glass Gryphon. I’d managed to get my clothes fairly clean and dry. They were at least wearable until I could tackle the gorgon dressmakers again.
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