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Harrowing Hats

Page 9

by Joyce; Jim Lavene


  “Jessie?” Chase asked when I finally got upstairs (it took me a few minutes to get the pine needles out of my sandals). “Where have you been?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” I nudged him as I walked by. “You ran off in the middle of the night, making me think you were seeing someone else. Then you left me in the encampment.”

  “You followed me out there?”

  “I just told you—I thought you were with a fairy or a dancer. What did you expect me to do?”

  “You knew I was going to talk to the knights. I can’t believe you thought I was seeing someone else.”

  “So what happened out there?”

  “Not much. I told them they had to stop interrupting shows. That’s really the only thing they’ve done wrong, at least as far as I’m concerned.”

  “And then you just left.”

  “I didn’t know you were out there. You shouldn’t have followed me. The knights get a little testy when they find strangers sneaking around.”

  I didn’t tell him about my return trip from the forest. I threw my sleeping bag (I always bring it to the Village just in case) on the floor and grabbed a pillow from the bed. I also didn’t tell him about the man who brought me back. There was no point, even though I could still feel his lips whispering close to my ear.

  “You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” Chase said. “I can’t believe you’re making such a big deal about this. I get called out all the time during the night. What’s the difference?”

  “The difference is that you purposely sneaked out. That’s the difference. Good night, Chase.”

  He sighed but didn’t argue. When the light was switched off again, he said good night. I ignored him and closed my eyes. It wouldn’t hurt him to realize how upset I was. Maybe next time, he’d tell me what was going on so I’d know it was okay.

  I didn’t plan to dream about the knight with the smoky voice, but it happened. In the morning, I shrugged it off. I wasn’t attracted to him—just angry at Chase. It made me feel guilty anyway.

  Chase and I had breakfast and parted ways in better spirits than we had going to sleep. I wasn’t sure what I should do since Andre was at the police station. I didn’t want to take another job until I knew what was going to happen. So I walked over to the Hat House anyway, thinking I could hang out there while I waited. To my surprise, I found all the little assistants were there working on the hats.

  “Good morning, Jessie.” Andre smiled and wiped his forehead with a clean white handkerchief. “You’re running late again, I see. I know watches aren’t allowed while the visitors are here, but surely you and Chase have an alarm clock.”

  “I didn’t think you’d be here,” I confessed. “What happened at the police station?”

  “Suffice it to say, the police don’t have any real proof that I was involved with what happened to Cesar. My hat pins are available to anyone who comes in the shop. They don’t have my fingerprints anywhere at the crime scene. There was nothing to hold me on.”

  I understood then what Detective Almond meant about Andre knowing his way around the procedure. I didn’t think most people would realize their fingerprints needed to be somewhere around a dead body. Andre was very calm and understanding of the whole thing.

  “Sure. Sorry. What do you want me to do?”

  “Since you’re the last warm body here, I’d like you to clean the shop a little. Some ladies are coming by for fittings. I thought it would be nice for them to be able to get in the door.”

  I shrugged. Such is the life of an apprentice. I thought Andre and I had reached a different level yesterday, but apparently I was wrong. “I’ll take care of it.”

  He nodded, not taking his eyes from his assistants.

  I opened the door to the shop from the work area and took a deep breath. Andre was right. The place was a total wreck. It looked like a tornado had gone through, leaving bits and pieces of fabric and hat material everywhere.

  I started with the larger pieces of silk, satin, and felt that were still on the bolts and got them up on the worktables. The rest had to be swept up and gone through carefully since I knew Andre saved all but the tiniest scraps. I finally discovered the counter and cash register and knew I was on the right track.

  In an hour, I could see the rough floor boards. The larger scraps were in cloth bags (no plastic here), and the smallest ones were in several barrels where they belonged. I was tidying a massive stack of stiff hat brims for the large, plumed hats when I was reminded of the fact that Cesar had been found covered by his large, red hat.

  It made me think about the handmade hat pin, too. If Andre wasn’t guilty of killing Cesar, whoever was wanted everyone to think he’d done it. The clues were set up to make sure that fact wouldn’t escape notice. Why would anyone want to frame Andre?

  What the castle wenches said about Beth came to mind. What if Cesar’s death was more about getting even with Andre than about killing Cesar? The chocolatier may have been collateral damage.

  Could Beth be capable of trying to hurt the man who’d rejected her? Her motive—despite my own self-interest—was much stronger than Eloise’s. The tart had been getting everything she wanted, a devoted slave with money and a handsome stud who could keep her happy.

  I didn’t like thinking about Beth that way. I liked Beth. She was hardworking and a nice person. I didn’t want her to be guilty of anything. Portia, on the other hand, would be okay to take away in chains.

  Unfortunately, the more I thought about Beth—rejected and humiliated as the man she loved pursued a bosomy tart—the more it made sense. Beth wasn’t a dainty woman. She could have hit Cesar over the head, stuffed his face in the liquefied chocolate, and crammed a hat pin in his eye.

  Maybe she knew about Andre’s past, too. Chase and I had found the information easily enough. Anyone with that information would know how to make Andre look guilty by using the hat pin idea from the previous murder.

  I stopped sweeping and sat down on one of the chairs I’d found buried under piles of material.

  Andre was in the clear, according to the police. Cesar wasn’t the most likeable of men. Maybe his death could be one of the thousands of unsolved murders that happened every year. Not everything was fair and just. If I never said anything about Beth, the police would probably never think to question her.

  It was a heavy weight on my conscience. Maybe if I went and talked to Beth, she might have a great alibi for the time Cesar was killed. Then I wouldn’t have to feel guilty and it would be obvious that she had nothing to do with this.

  I put down the broom and would’ve left the shop, but Andre came to look for me. “I need you at once. Hurry, Jessie.”

  The emergency was a visit from Princess Isabel. She looked like she’d been crying—no doubt worried about her royal position in the court now that the king and queen were going to have a real child. Isabel was just an actress hired to play the part. Her fate was anyone’s guess. They could decide to keep her on as she was or they could turn her out of the castle to do menial labor if she wanted to stay in the Village.

  There had been several princesses who hadn’t lasted in the part. Isabel had been there for a while, but that didn’t guarantee anything. Major characters were recast sometimes.

  I couldn’t say I’d miss her since she always insisted on flirting with Chase, but I felt sorry for her that morning. She looked awful. I knew how hard it was to be out of a job.

  When I got in there with Andre, I could see my duty was to help her calm down enough to buy a hat. Shopping was always therapeutic—it didn’t surprise me that she’d taken that route to alleviate her stress.

  Several of her waiting courtiers were already at her side to give her comfort. They patted her hand, offered her chocolates, and generally tried to make her feel better. She might not be Olivia and Harold’s daughter in real life, but she certainly sounded like the queen. Maybe she was rehearsing to take Livy’s part in case the queen had to leave after her pregnancy.
r />   Andre watched her in frustration. “You there”—he pointed to one of his assistants—“get me some lemon balm tea from Mrs. Potts. And don’t forget the honey cookies. Maybe those will help.”

  “Is there something I can do to help?” I hoped it would be something more productive than watching Princess Isabel cry. It was too hot to be so irritated.

  Andre nodded and had me follow him out of the room. “You know, one thing about the great actresses, they worked when they were supposed to work. I know everyone isn’t ‘on’ twenty-four hours a day around here, but a little professionalism would go a long way. I really think some of the actors in Renaissance Village have forgotten that they’re acting!”

  I couldn’t disagree with him. Of course this place wasn’t a movie set with start and stop times. It was easy to get lost in the part. I didn’t bother saying anything since it seemed he just needed to vent.

  “I need you to pick up a few things for me. I’ll give you a list. Everything is paid for, so all you have to do is fetch it.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t mention that fetching wasn’t really learning how to make hats. Things were tense enough without putting that out there.

  He gave me the list, written in his flowery script, and waved his hand impatiently when I didn’t leave the shop right away. “I need those things yesterday. Don’t dawdle.”

  Thus dismissed, I went outside and took a better look at what my master needed. Some of it made sense—silk flowers from Eve’s Garden, a crocheted scarf from Lady Cathy’s Crochet, a scarf from Sarah’s Scarves, and some material from Stylish Frocks.

  Yes! Just the place I needed to go if I wanted to talk to Beth.

  The other things were more personal. He wanted scented oil from Cupid’s Arrow where my good friend, Adora, sold love potions, lingerie, and incense. He also wanted me to pick up jewelry at Our Lady’s Gemstones. Eww! That meant I’d have to face the twins again.

  There was no getting around it. I started along the cobblestones toward Stylish Frocks first. I’d probably visit the gemstone shop last even though it was next door to Beth’s shop. Maybe if I did it last, it wouldn’t be so bad.

  Stylish Frocks made costumes for the entire Village. Residents wore their garments every day. Visitors bought their costumes for elaborate prices and paraded them around the Green. Every costume imaginable, from fairies to dragons, horses, and elegant ladies and gentlemen, was created here. Beth Daniels was at the heart of it all. She was amazingly talented. I’d seen her look at a picture of a wedding gown and create one exactly like it. She always seemed tireless and had a good sense of humor.

  But not today. Beth stood in the middle of twenty-five seamstresses whose sewing machines were always humming. If Andre’s Hat House was messy, Stylish Frocks was always neat. There was never any excess material lying around. Not even a colored thread would dare be out of place.

  Today, there seemed to be some problem with a multicolored gown that had sixty layers swirling with lace and satin. Beth was frowning as she looked at it with the seamstress who was putting it together. “This sherbet color can’t go here,” she told the other woman. “It has to be blue here.”

  “That’s not what they gave me,” the seamstress objected. “It’ll take me the rest of the day to rip it out.”

  “Then you better get started,” Beth snarled.

  Was this the result of a guilty conscience? I wondered. I’d never seen her this way. I hated to even catch her attention and tell her what Andre needed. She was carrying a pair of large scissors in her hand as she walked toward me. I hoped they wouldn’t end up in one of my body parts.

  “Hello, Jessie,” she greeted me nicely enough. “What can I do for you?”

  “Hi, Beth.” I dragged out my words, wishing I didn’t have to say them. “I need some material you’re holding here for Andre.”

  Her face contorted. If ever I could imagine a look from someone who wanted to kill a person, this would be it. Of course, she hadn’t killed her ex-lover. Could she have killed Cesar to set him up?

  “That slimy little weasel.” She threw her scissors down on a perfectly organized worktable. “He should’ve come himself. I’d like to have the chance to give him a piece of my mind. But every time I go to look for him, he seems to vanish. Or at least that’s what his assistants say.”

  Without the scissors, Beth just looked tired and sad. She raked her hand through her short red hair and adjusted her multipocketed coat that was always full of buttons, needles, and thread. She wasn’t exotic like Eloise or even particularly attractive. She looked like she’d had a hard life without much happiness in it.

  “If you went over there yesterday, he was probably at the police station.” I offered the information carefully like I was giving food to a wild animal. I watched her face and waited for her response.

  “The police?” She sighed. “What did he do now? Did he start running after a fairy who reported him?”

  “They were questioning him about Cesar’s death.” There it was. On the table. What would she do with it?

  Fourteen

  “I need a cigarette,” Beth said. “I gave it up this year, but that was before Andre decided he could live without me. Want to come outside?”

  We stood near the back door where smoke wouldn’t go inside but Beth could see what was happening. I could see the mermaids flirting with passing visitors. They could seriously become more obnoxious than the fairies even though they were trapped in their lagoon. I smiled as I imagined them dragging their colorful tails through the Village streets to pursue one of the knights or a Merry Man.

  “I’ve known Andre for years,” Beth said between puffs of smoke. “You think you’re safe with someone like that. I even thought with all of the hunky men in the Village, the girls would leave him alone. Not a chance.”

  I didn’t want to point out that Eloise hadn’t pursued Andre. He just fell in lust with her like so many other men. “It’s only physical.” I tried to help her feel better. “Andre probably still loves you.”

  “Well, he’s got an odd way of showing it.” She threw the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with her foot. “So they think Andre killed Cesar so he could be the only man in Eloise’s life. Is that about right?”

  “That’s the working theory, I guess.” I cautioned myself against saying anything about the other murder Andre might be involved in. If Beth told me about it, I’d know that she knew.

  Beth laughed. “Waste of time, huh? Somebody needs to enlighten them. Andre would have to kill off half the Village to get rid of all the men who want Eloise, including your man. Don’t think Chase is above eating a piece of that pie.”

  It was a zinger I wasn’t expecting. It was mean-spirited for her to bad-mouth Chase just because Andre had dumped her. I knew she was in pain, so I pretended not to notice. “The police decided Andre wasn’t guilty anyway.”

  “Even with the hat pins in Cesar’s eyes?”

  So she knew, at least about that part of it. I guess that answered one of my questions. “It was only one hat pin. Of course, that made him a good suspect. But it could also make other people in the Village suspects. Andre isn’t the only person who uses hat pins.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed, staring at the mermaids. “I can come up with at least a dozen people, not including all of the nobility. But you weren’t talking about them, were you, Jessie? You were talking about me.”

  Well, since you mentioned it—“I suppose in an odd sort of sense, you could be a suspect. I mean, you could’ve wanted to make Andre look guilty for killing Cesar.”

  “Honey, if I were gonna kill someone, it would be Andre. I wouldn’t mess around trying to make him look bad. I’d flatout put my scissors in his chest. Or maybe lots of hat pins in his eyes. I’d hurt him like he’s hurt me. What good did it do to kill Cesar? That just left the field wide open for Andre to continue doing what he wants.”

  I admitted that she made sense. I’d feel the same way about it—except with a s
word instead of scissors. “I don’t think Andre killed Cesar. He really believes Eloise loves him and would choose him over anyone.”

  “He’s a snake, Jessie. Watch out he doesn’t decide he’s in love with you.” She smiled halfheartedly. “I have to go back in now. We’re running full blast with a lot of crazy complicated costumes this summer. And now with Livy being pregnant, she’s going to want all new clothes.”

  I went back in with her and picked up the material Andre needed. I wasn’t sorry I’d talked to her. I felt even more strongly that she hadn’t killed Cesar. Just the passion in her face when she talked about killing Andre was convincing. I could see her envisioning Andre lying dead at her feet. A woman doesn’t feel that kind of emotion and settle for framing a man.

  I dreaded it, but the gemstone shop was staring at me when I walked out of Stylish Frocks. It would be stupid not to go there next, then drop both items off with Andre before continuing on with my other errands. I clutched the emerald green taffeta closer, like a shiny shield, and advanced into the shop.

  It was disorienting again, going inside, but this time I knew what to expect and didn’t bother looking around at the gemstones. I told Rene that I was there to pick up Andre’s purchase. He nodded and disappeared behind one of the dark curtains.

  I didn’t notice that Eloise was also there (it takes a few minutes to see anything in the dark after coming in from the bright sunlight), but her laugh caught my attention. She was sitting at a table with Bernardo, trying on jewelry. He was inspecting the necklace around her throat while his eyes dropped to her cleavage. Renee was saying how wonderful the ruby necklace looked on her, no doubt encouraging a lucrative sale.

  And the police took Andre in for questioning? Obviously they didn’t realize that at least two of the Three Chocolatiers had been seeing her. Probably Marco, too. I knew that didn’t make them guilty of killing their brother, but their alibis must’ve been the best in the world for Detective Almond to dismiss their involvement so quickly.

  Eloise, like she could feel my eyes on her, looked up and smiled brilliantly. “I think this will do nicely, Bernie. You have the best taste. And I’m not just talking about your chocolate.”

 

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