Ghastly Glass

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  I wasn’t sure how Henry would be with Roger out of the picture. But he was in good spirits and fixed on a little demon he’d met that morning, so he kept his hands to himself.

  Everything on my workbench was just as I’d left it yesterday. I sat down and turned on my burner, then picked up my pathetic excuse for a glass dog, which looked more like a mutant than anything else. Filled with sorrow, I dropped him in the trash and started over.

  Business was brisk as the gates opened. No doubt the publicity from Ross’s death and now the attack on Roger were bringing them in. Their money spent the same, though, so I was sure no one minded the extra visitors, whatever their motivation for coming.

  I waited on the first customers, who bought several hundred dollars worth of glasses Roger had made. Henry told them about his uncle getting hurt. The nice lord and lady (sporting expensive Renaissance garb they didn’t get in the Village) bought a few bowls to go along with the glasses. I wrapped all of them up and wondered at Henry’s lack of discretion.

  When they’d gone, he burst out laughing. “Can you believe those idiots? Like it matters that Uncle Roger got hurt. At least it shouldn’t matter to them.”

  “But you knew it would.” I sat down at my workbench again and took up a clear tube to resurrect my little doggy.

  “Yeah. So what? The idea is to make money. You can’t eat art glass, Jessie.” He walked close to where I was working. “It’s all about controlling the heat,” he directed. “Start at the tip of the tube and work your way back. You have to get it hot enough to move but not too hot. Then heat your colored rod and lay it down on the tube.”

  He went to his own bench, and I watched him, fascinated. He was a jerk but he was gifted. He slowly blew into the mouthpiece attached to the heated tube, shaping it with the graphite paddles to move the way he wanted it to move. It took only a few minutes before the figure was taking form. He was making a horse, probably a unicorn since there were more than a few of those on display in the shop.

  Determined to make something recognizable, I heated my glass tube until it began to glow, then used my mouthpiece to blow ever so gently into the glass to expand it. I had already chosen my shape. A dog was beneath my talents, I decided; I would make something beautiful and ethereal instead. Maybe a fairy or a butterfly.

  Everything was moving exactly as it should. I picked up a sapphire blue rod and began applying the colored glass to the tube. I planned to use pale green with it as my fairy/ butterfly began to take shape. Unfortunately, the four-foot glass rod of the sage green color I’d noticed yesterday was nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere in the shop, but all I could find was an emerald green.

  “Have you seen that lighter green rod?” I asked Henry. “It was like a sage color. One of the long rods.”

  He looked up at me with a two-foot blue rod that he hadn’t begun using yet in his hand. He held it in his fist like a weapon. Visions of the terrible welts formed in exactly the same shape on Roger’s body flew in front of my eyes.

  Wham!

  I was suddenly pretty sure what had happened to Roger.

  Seventeen

  I’d seen enough horror movies and murder mysteries to know better than to fall apart at this moment. You know what I mean. The girl finally figures out who the bad guy/ vampire/werewolf is and she stands there by herself and accuses him. Of course, he kills her (and sometimes eats her) without a second thought. It’s the logical choice to getting caught.

  So I played it cool. I sauntered over to my workbench as though I hadn’t just realized what and who had made those red welts all over Roger. I spent the next thirty minutes working on my fairy/butterfly. It was really starting to look like something when a few customers came into the shop.

  “Will you see to them, Jessie?” Henry glanced up at me and smiled.

  It turned my stomach imagining him bludgeoning Roger with a solid glass rod, but I managed to smile back. “Of course.”

  I forced myself to speak normally to the king and queen of the werewolves out for a stroll through the Village. Their little gold crowns fit between their pointed wolf ears on their gray furry heads while their elaborate blue satin robes rustled in the quiet shop.

  They finally decided to watch Henry as he completed his unicorn with touches of gold glitter to the horn and hooves. When he was finished, they applauded with their wolf paws and purchased it.

  “That was amazing!” Queen Werewolf remarked. “You’re quite a craftsman.”

  Henry bowed handsomely. I could already see that look of lust glazing his eyes. “Thank you, Your Majesty. And may I say your choice of gown looks particularly lovely on you today.”

  King Werewolf was not so pleased by the way Henry was looking at his mate. He growled (obviously into the part) and took the queen by her arm (or is that leg?) and led her out of the shop.

  “Well that was a good morning’s work.” Henry was pleased with himself. “Why don’t we break for lunch, Jessie. We’ll close the shop until two since it’s only me and you here.”

  That sounded like an escape plan to me. “Great! I’m certainly going to enjoy working for you while Roger is out of commission.”

  I guess that was too much to say. He sidled closer and put his hands on my waist. “I can think of lots of things we could do together instead of eating. You know, Uncle Roger might not come back at all. I might take over the shop.”

  “What makes you say that?” I wanted to move away from him, but I was attracted to the sometimes fatal task of trying to get more information from the suspect.

  “Psychology.” He shrugged. “I majored in it at college. Sometimes after a traumatic episode, people have to cut their ties to past associations. Uncle Roger might have to cut his ties to the Glass Gryphon. He might not be able to handle the memories.”

  Is that why you attacked him? I didn’t dare go that far. Henry could stuff me in a closet somewhere and it could be days before anyone found me. My heart was pounding in my chest in a mixture of excitement and fear. I couldn’t wait to tell Chase what I’d discovered, but first I wanted to get out of the shop alive.

  “I don’t know.” I casually turned away from his loose embrace. “Roger doesn’t strike me as the emotional kind. I’ll bet he’ll be right back on the job as soon as he can get up.”

  “I guess we’ll see.” He smiled lazily at me, and I would’ve continued being the target of his lust, but that cute little demon from earlier in the day chose that moment to stroll into the shop. After that, he only had eyes for her. Thank God.

  As soon as my feet hit the cobblestones, I ran to the dungeon to look for Chase. He was in the middle of settling a dispute between two shopkeepers while a crowd of visitors watched the proceedings.

  “Bailiff, this man promised to marry my daughter. He took her dowry, then decided against marriage.” The complainant was Lucas McCoy of the Three Pigs Barbecue. The defendant was Diego Tornado of the Tornado Twins. Not really a shopkeeper at all, more an obnoxious pest. Of course, it was all just a performance, designed to give the audience an idea of what justice was like back in the Renaissance. I guessed Diego was the only one they could find to play the errant lover.

  “It was not that way,” he declared. “She no longer wanted me. I keep her dowry because she abandoned me.”

  The crowd of fifty or so visitors, eager for someone to get put in the stocks and have vegetables thrown at them, booed at his words.

  Before Lucas could speak again, a Renaissance lady joined the group. Her lovely pink gown and veil couldn’t hide her masculine shoulders and chest, or her hairy face. “Sir Bailiff,” Lorenzo Tornado (this was too snarky), Diego’s brother, addressed Chase. “I am the innocent maid Lorenza who has been wronged by this devil.”

  Lorenzo slapped at Diego with his fan and tried to kick his ex-lover, but he/she couldn’t get her leg up high enough.

  “And you see now, Sir Bailiff,” Diego protested, “what I have had to endure for this lady? I deserve her dowry, and more.” />
  After one look at Lorenza, the crowd shifted its favor to the defendant. Their boos filled the area around the stocks. “Put the father in the stocks for trying to marry off such an ugly girl!” Everyone roared with laughter.

  Chase pounded his large mallet on the side of the dungeon. “Silence! I shall deliver my verdict.”

  As usual, the crowd grew quiet. Lonnie passed out the very overripe fruit and vegetables for the coming assault.

  “I pronounce the lover guilty in this case and demand that he give back the dowry, after he goes through vegetable justice.” Chase’s mallet on the wall was final. There were no reprieves or appeals.

  Lonnie took the protesting Diego to the stocks, where he was locked in place with his head and arms through the holes of the wooden device. Lorenza laughed and slapped him with his/her fan while the wronged father stood to the side, watching justice take its course.

  The crowd took their best shots with squishy tomatoes, half-rotten balls of lettuce, and massively molded kiwis. It took only a few minutes for Diego to be covered in vegetable matter.

  The crowd was satisfied and moved on to other Village attractions. Lorenza slid a piece of lettuce from Diego’s nose and laughed. “Better you than me, brother!”

  “It will be you next time, brother,” Diego said. “Get me out of here.”

  “I rather like you in that position.” Lorenzo swept up his veil and grinned. “You look so good, I could eat you up.”

  “If only you were a real woman,” Diego quipped. “Jessie, come over here and follow up on my brother’s suggestion.”

  Lorenzo turned around suddenly and slid his arm through mine. “Oh, we have so much to talk about, my dear. Why don’t we go and take our clothes off and look at each other’s breasts like all women do.”

  I slapped his hand away even as I felt him goose my butt. “Get away from me!”

  “Don’t make her hurt you,” Diego warned as Lonnie got him out of the stocks. “You saw what she did to Henry. Just imagine being alone with her and a sword.”

  Lorenzo shivered dramatically. “I must go and change my panties now before the next act. Coming, lover?”

  Diego took his arm, and the two comedians wandered away toward their act at the Dutchman’s Stage.

  “That was ridiculous,” Lucas McCoy complained. “We’re all supposed to take turns at this. Where is everyone?”

  “I think they’re all out patrolling the Village.” Chase took off his black judge’s robe and white wig. “I’ve noticed a few places are shorthanded.”

  “I guess I can sympathize with that. My brother Danny has been out since this morning. I don’t know if he has any idea what he’s looking for, but I guess it’s better than no one looking for anything.”

  He invited me and Chase over for barbecue that evening, then started walking back toward his shop on the far side of the Village. Lonnie was cleaning up the mess as I followed Chase into the dungeon.

  “Going to lunch?” he asked as the now familiar banshee wailed through the dungeon. “Let me put stuff away and I’ll go with you.”

  “I didn’t come over here for food. I think I know who attacked Roger.” It was such a relief to finally be able to say it. I felt as though I’d been holding it in forever.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I think I know who attacked Roger. It was Henry, on the shortcut, with a solid glass rod. Probably sage green.”

  “And you have proof of this?”

  “Not exactly.” I explained my theory and why I was so sure I was right. “I’m sure if we take one of those rods and put it on one of Roger’s welts, it will be the same size. Think about it, Chase. A person could do some serious wailing with one of those rods.”

  “Why would Henry hurt Roger?”

  “I don’t know yet. At least not for sure. I think it might be to get his hands on the Glass Gryphon. He’s counting on Roger not coming back to the Village.”

  “But I thought he was getting the spin-off store at the beach. Why wouldn’t he be happy with that? And how does it tie into Ross’s murder?”

  “I don’t have all the answers yet. I might have to do some more sleuthing to find out.”

  Chase took my arm and spun me toward him. “The only place Henry is going to let you sleuth anything is in his bedroom. We both know that, Jessie. Let’s give this info to Detective Almond and let him run with it.”

  “I can handle myself. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Too late. At least let’s have some lunch and talk about it. I think there has to be a better way.”

  So during lunch, we agreed that I should take another shot at finding out if Henry attacked Roger. This was after Chase called Detective Almond and couldn’t get in touch with him because he was out on another case.

  “I still don’t think this is a great idea, Jessie.” Chase refused to see the rightness of my plan. “If he has any idea that you know what’s going on, you could end up like Roger, or worse. Besides, I have some interesting news about Marcus that might take Henry off the suspect list.”

  “What? No way. What news?”

  “I found out that Marcus was accused of hitting one of the other residents with his staff—the one the dwarfs have to carry. He denies it, and the man he hit wouldn’t go any further with it. But I’m thinking his staff could leave the kind of impression we saw on Roger.”

  He sat back with a triumphant look on his face while I digested his information. “You’re right. That is interesting. And it is possible. Marcus might have gotten riled up over something stupid Roger said and attacked him. What about the other long-term residents? Any other incriminating events among the employees?”

  “Nothing on that yet.” He shrugged. “So who do we go after first?”

  “I’m not exactly sure now. But since I already have this plan for Henry, what about you tackling Marcus? In the intellectual sense, of course.”

  “I’d like it better the other way around. You take Marcus and I’ll take Henry.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s my plan. He’ll never know that I know. I’m supersmooth when it comes to getting people’s secrets out of them. Ask Tony. He confesses everything when he sees me because he knows I’ll get it out of him one way or another.”

  “It’s the another that I’m worried about.” Chase finished his Coke. We both got up and rinsed our cups out. You can always tell the residents from the visitors by the cups hanging from their belts. As long as you have your own cup, you drink for free. A sweet deal!

  “You’re just jealous,” I told him.

  “Maybe. I think you might feel the same way if I told you I was willing to do whatever it takes to get something out of Princess Isabel.”

  “That’s totally different. Nothing at all the same.”

  He laughed. “I knew you’d say that. Maybe I’m better at getting information out of people than you are.”

  His face was close to mine and I kissed him, loving him for worrying about me even though I knew it would be okay. “You could give me another radio if you’re really worried about me.”

  “That might not be such a bad idea.” He started to take his from the pouch that hung at his waist, then stopped. “But you won’t abuse it, right? No more calls about anything except an emergency. Right?”

  I crossed my heart with my finger. “Absolutely. No calls unless it’s an emergency. I swear on my love for Renaissance Village.”

  That seemed to appease him and he took out the radio. “I’m adjusting it so you’re only on my channel, not broadcasting to the whole park.”

  I took it from him like Lancelot accepting the Holy Grail. “You won’t hear from me unless I absolutely have to tell you something.”

  We kissed and separated, Chase heading back toward the dungeon and me walking toward the Glass Gryphon. I had some time to kill since it was only a little after one, so I decided to pop into Pope’s Pots.

  I walked past the petting zoo, where a long line of kids were
trying to get their hands on the poor little animals. I wasn’t surprised to see the goats and pigs running toward the back of the enclosure. Sticky, sweaty, grabby hands probably didn’t look like much fun to them.

  There was a long line waiting for a ride on a camel or elephant. I waved to one of my former students who’d spent one summer here then dropped out of school to be here full-time. I lose more students that way. The stench from the large droppings was intensified by the damp weather, so I breathed through my mouth as I walked by. I’d spent one summer helping visitors on and off the large animals. I wouldn’t volunteer to do it again.

  I watched the performance at the Hawk Stage, hoping to see the fake-hawk-snatching-someone’s-eye-out routine, but no such luck. Lady Lindsey was up with her trained song-birds. Her little bluebirds and robins performed their tricks in response to her whistled commands. Lucky for them the hawks weren’t out or one of them might’ve been lunch.

  I sighed and started past the privies, noticing the crowds gathering down the street, where Arthur was due to pull the sword from the stone. The privies were busy, of course. There seemed to be an unusually large number of pirates at this end of the Village. Other than for the occasional stroll (usually accomplished by one or two of the brigands) they never gathered in large groups except near the lake.

  I smiled at Grigg when I saw him standing with his arms folded across his chest, the tattoo on his forearm telling the world (in case someone didn’t guess) that he was a pirate from the Queen’s Revenge.

  He nodded, and I walked past him. I had almost reached the Sword Spotte, where they sell those really huge Scottish claymores, when all the pirates moved suddenly. It was like being enveloped by a sea of leather and tattoos. I looked up, wondering what was going on, and one of them threw a smelly old blanket over my head.

  Next thing I knew, I was being rolled up in it and lifted off my feet. I could only assume that was why they’d been hanging out by Arthur’s stone. Apparently I had taken Rafe’s vow of revenge too lightly. And it was cheating to use his whole pirate clan against me. It’s not like I used the whole Craft Guild to get him taken away in the privy. This seemed totally unfair.