Baked to Death

by Dean James

  “Good. Now, before the tavern and the knock on the noggin,” I said, “what had you been doing? Could anything you did or said, or anything you heard, have led to the attack?”

  “If so, I’m really not certain what it could have been,” Giles replied. “Until I decided to stop in at the tavern for something to drink, I was wandering around, eavesdropping on conversations, and occasionally joining in. As you might imagine, there’s one basic topic of conversation today. By now, of course, most everyone knows who I am, and certainly who you are, and they know that I was there when it happened.”

  “And naturally they wanted to hear it from you. What you saw and heard, and all the gory details.”

  Giles grimaced in distaste. “Of course. I tried, whenever possible, to keep it as brief as possible, and that was usually just fine. These people love to gossip, Simon, and it wasn’t very difficult to get them all going.”

  Particularly not if most of the people involved were female. A little attention from a handsome and charming young sprig of the nobility like Giles could work wonders on women who might otherwise appear reluctant to gossip. “Did you pick up any interesting tidbits?” I asked.

  “Mostly the same things, with a few variations.”

  “Such as?”

  Giles laughed. “For one, a number of the women had quite a bit to say about Totsye and her unrequited passion for the deceased. I don’t think the poor woman realizes just how potty they all think she is.” He shook his head, then winced. “It’s hard to believe that a businesswoman as successful as she is could be so blindly infatuated with a man who would never return her affections the way she wanted.”

  “Yes, but where love is concerned, logic often flies out the window,” I said.

  Giles grinned. “May I quote you on that?”

  I attempted a quelling glance, but Giles ignored it.

  “Do these same people think Totsye could be the killer?”

  “Not really,” Giles said. “They do say she’s smart enough to do it and get away with it, however. They admire her business acumen, even though they think she’s a bit of a fool where romance is concerned. Would you believe that she and the king were once an item?” His eyes grew wide in mock astonishment.

  “You can’t be serious,” I said dryly. “Surely the woman has better taste, and better sense, than that.”

  “One would think so,” Giles said, “but apparently, once upon a time, as the fairy tales say, she was quite mad for Harald, and he was fairly potty over her.”

  “What happened?” I asked. “Why didn’t they live happily ever after?”

  Giles grinned wickedly. “Because about that time, according to my sources, Luke and the fair Adele joined the group.”

  “I see,” I said. “And poor Totsye can’t hold a candle to the de Montfort wench.”

  “No, she can’t, more’s the pity,” Giles answered. “Again, according to my sources, Adele made a dead set for old Harald. Apparently she specializes in going after men who are already attached to other women.”

  “Goodness gracious me,” I said, “what a loathsome little quadrangle they were.”

  “Yes, quite the soap opera,” Giles said, “as you would say in the States.” He snickered. “Certainly better than the telly, if you believe what my informants were telling me. There were any number of scenes at previous gatherings over the past couple of years.”

  “And Totyse transferred her affections to Luke,” I said. “Did she know from the beginning, I wonder, that he wasn’t likely to be interested in her?”

  “Apparently she knew and saw it as a challenge,” Giles responded. He shook his head.

  “She was going to be the woman who would change him,” I said. I rolled my eyes.

  “One of the women said she had talked to Totsye about it, trying to explain that it was useless, but Totsye refused to believe her. Even after she allegedly caught Luke in flagrante delicto with another man.”

  “What a scene that must have been,” I said, trying not to imagine it. Instead, I stared unseeingly at the encampment before us. “The question is, does any of this have any relevance to Luke’s murder?”

  “I suppose one could work out some kind of motive for Totsye,” Giles said.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “But what about opportunity? Unless it can be proven that she somehow gave Luke the poison earlier in the day, she’s in the clear. She wouldn’t have been able to do it.”

  “That’s true,” Giles said.

  “But it was rather odd,” I said, as a memory struck me.

  “What was odd, Simon?”

  “Hmmm? Oh, the police found a sprig of foxglove in Totsye’s tent.”

  “Rather careless on her part, if she really is the killer,” Giles said. “Even though she’s in the herb business, I can’t imagine that she would need to have foxglove with her.”

  “No,” I said. “I doubt she would either. I rather think someone planted it there so the police would find it and keep Totsye on their list of suspects.”

  “Very likely,” Giles said. “There’s a lot of sympathy for Totsye, at least among the women I talked to, but they really despise Harald.”

  “Did they have anything interesting to say about him?”

  “Other than that he made a right fool of himself over Adele de Montfort?” Giles asked sarcastically. “They had enough to say about that, I can tell you. But neither do they think much of his leadership. They were all looking forward to replacing Harald with Luke, but now they’re not certain what will happen.”

  “Won’t they just cancel the election for now, given the circumstances?”

  “No, they won’t,” Giles said. “One of the women was quite certain about that. Because, according to her, a new candidate had been announced, just this afternoon.”

  “Well?” I demanded when he fell silent. “Who is it?”

  His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Guess, Simon.”

  “Totsye,” I said.

  “No. Guess again.”

  “Giles,” I said, “I hate guessing games. Who is it?”

  He grinned. “Adele de Montfort.”

  “Ah,” I said, leaning back against the tree while I considered this new wrinkle.

  Had Luke de Montfort died so his sister could become queen?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “MT, do you really think, Simon, that she would kill her brother simply to take his place in the election?” Giles asked. “Could she be that hungry for power?”

  “Perhaps,” I said. “Adele has proven to be a woman of unexpected depth. It seems to me that, while her brother was alive, she was always cast in his shadow. Maybe she got tired of that, frustrated with always having to take second place to her brother.”

  “And he wasn’t exactly the type to step aside and let his sister move ahead of him.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” I agreed. I had a momentary pang when I thought of Luke, how vitally alive he had been, how attractive and how confident a man he was. And had Tristan Lovelace granted him his request, he would have been beyond the reach of poison forever.

  Maybe that had been the answer all along and I just didn’t want to face it. Tris had killed him, rather than grant his wish to make him a vampire.

  I glanced sideways at Giles. If Tris were guilty, my little talk with Giles would be even more complicated than I had anticipated. Just what I needed.

  “What did the women think of Adele’s chances to win?” I asked.

  “They seemed to think that it would be practically no contest,” Giles said. “Partly out of sympathy, but mostly because so many people in the group have come to loathe King Harald for his incompetence.”

  “So if Harald murdered Luke to keep from losing the election, it might not do him any good after all,” I said, half in jest.

  “Apparently not,” Giles answered. Then he turned to me, his eyes wide. “But if Harald did kill Luke to keep from losing, mightn’t he kill Adele, too?”

  “It’s entirely possible
. I think the man’s loopy enough,” I said. “And desperate enough.”

  “This whole set-up seems rather loopy to me,” Giles replied. “Would anyone really kill just to be the king or queen of this group?”

  “That remains to be determined,” I said. I stood, picking up the drinking vessel lent me by the tavern keeper. “Why don’t you rest here for a few minutes? I want to ask a few questions in the tavern and return this cup. All right?”

  Giles gazed up into my face, a slight smile hovering about his lips. “If you promise not to ‘beat the crap’ out of anyone on my account, as you so charmingly put it earlier.”

  I grinned back at him. “I reserve the right to wreak vengeance, young man, and no matter how you bat your eyelashes at me, I shall not be swayed from my purpose.”

  His laughter followed me as I strode across to the tavern. Stepping inside, I waited a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimmer light inside. There were only a few customers seated here and there, and the tavern keeper was standing behind his bar, slowly sipping something out of a pewter tankard.

  I approached the bar and set the cup down. “Thank you again, sir. The water was most appreciated.”

  “Ta,” he said, taking the cup and putting it somewhere beneath the bar. I offered him a two-pound coin, and he tucked it into his apron.

  “A moment of your time, if you don’t mind,” I said, as he started to turn away.

  He waited patiently, tankard in hand.

  Taking this as permission, I continued. “I’m sure you’re aware of what happened to my young friend.”

  He nodded.

  “Just before it happened,” I said, “he had been here in the tavern, conversing with someone. Did you have occasion to notice anything? See anyone who was taking undue interest in my friend? Anything like that?”

  The tavern keeper sipped reflectively at his tankard before replying. “He were chatting with that professor bloke, the dark-haired one. You know, the one who’s the expert.”

  I nodded.

  “The professor seemed to be getting a bit too chummy with your young friend, and there were someone who didn’t seem to like that, not above half.”

  “And who was that?” I demanded, perhaps a shade too forcefully.

  The tavern keeper frowned. I forced myself to relax and offer him an encouraging smile.

  “ ’Twas a youngish bloke, fancies himself as Will Scarlet. Fact, that’s even what he calls himself. Alius dresses in scarlet too, head to foot, he does. I seen him earlier, coupla times, chatting in here with the professor and getting mighty cozy, if you understand me.”

  Again I nodded.

  “Well, Will Scarlet didn’t seem to take too kindly to the fact that the professor was chatting up another young bloke.”

  “Did he do anything about it? Did he approach them?”

  The tavern keeper shook his head.

  “Well, what happened?” I demanded.

  “The professor up and left, that’s what,” the tavern keeper said, frowning slightly as if to rebuke me. “Your young friend sat there a few minutes longer, finishing his drink, then he left, too.”

  “And where was Will Scarlet during this?”

  “He was still here,” the man replied. “I thought he might follow the professor out, but he didn’t. He stayed here, watching your bloke. And when your bloke left, Will Scarlet followed him outside a moment or two later.”

  Just as I had suspected. This Will Scarlet fellow was jealous of Giles, thinking he was interested in Tris. So he followed Giles and attacked him, trying to warn him away from Tris.

  I would certainly deal with Mr. Scarlet, as soon as I could get my hands on him.

  “Thank you,” I said to the tavern keeper, about to turn away. “You’ve been most helpful.”

  He merely grunted in response.

  I reached into a pocket and withdrew my wallet. I found a twenty-pound note and fluttered it in front of him.

  “I don’t suppose you could tell me who else might have been in the tavern at the time?”

  His eyes avidly following the movement of the twenty pounds, the tavern keeper nodded.

  He began reeling off a list of names, most of which meant nothing to me. But two names did catch my attention. Murdo Millbank had been in the tavern, as had Guillaume, the soldier who was the henchman of King Harald. One of them could have attacked Giles just as easily as Will Scarlet.

  “Tell me, then, Millbank and this Guillaume fellow. Did they pay any particular attention to my friend?” I watched him as he thought about it.

  “Mayhap they did,” he said. I brandished the twenty-pound note again, and his memory got sharper. “Guillaume was sitting at the next table, and I thought he was listening to them a bit.”

  I nodded encouragement.

  “Not sure whether that Millbank bloke even noticed them,” he said. “He did seem to have some-thing on his mind, though. He were muttering away to himself ’til I thought he was fair barmy.”

  “Did either of them leave before my friend left the tavern?”

  The tavern keeper nodded. “They both did. Guillaume just before the professor fellow, and Millbank had left a couple minutes before that. ”

  I dropped the twenty pounds on the bar, and more quickly than I could imagine, it had disappeared into the man’s apron.

  “You’ve been extremely helpful,” I said. “Good day to you, sir.”

  His only response was another grunt as he turned away to serve a customer who had been waiting patiently at the other end of the bar.

  Giles appeared to be dozing when I sat down on the bench beside him.

  “Wake up, Giles,” I said softly. “You’re not supposed to sleep just yet.”

  He yawned and opened his eyes. “I’m not sleeping, Simon, just resting a bit.” He sat up straighter on the bench. “Find out anything of use?”

  “Perhaps,” I said. I told him what I had learned from the tavern keeper.

  When I finished, Giles pondered it all in silence for a moment. Then he shook his head gently. “Sorry, Simon, I still don’t remember seeing anything before I was hit. It could have been anyone. Perhaps I might remember something more later.”

  “No flash of scarlet perhaps? Out of the corner of your eye, before you were struck?”

  “No, I don’t believe so,” Giles said slowly. “You think it was this Will Scarlet fellow who was responsible?”

  “Yes, I think he’s the most likely suspect,” I replied. “And when I find him, he will tell me, one way or another.”

  “Simon, you sound a bit grim,” Giles said, half-jokingly. “As if you plan to torture the man if he doesn’t confess.” He poked me in the arm. “Come now, you’re not going to do something silly, are you?”

  I smiled at him. “No, I’m not. But he will certainly rue the day he ever laid a hand on you. If, indeed, he was the one who hit you.”

  Giles shrugged. “What if the king set his tame thug on me? What then?”

  “Then I will take up the matter with both the king and his muscle man.”

  He laughed at that. “Come now, Simon, that Guillaume is pretty big and brawny. You don’t want to tangle with him. Even for my sake.”

  “I’m stronger than I look, Giles,” I said, smiling to make a bit of a jest of it. He would know, soon enough, that I was deadly serious (pardon the pun).

  We sat in silence for a moment, then I turned to Giles. “How’s your head? Feel like walking a bit?”

  Giles touched the back of his head gingerly. “Still a bit tender, but that pill the doctor gave me is doing its job, Simon. My head has stopped throbbing, and I don’t think a leisurely stroll will do any harm.”

  “Good,” I said. I stood up and offered him my arm. He grasped it and pulled himself up off the bench. His hand on my arm, we began walking.

  “Where are we going?” Giles asked. “Besides watching out for Will Scarlet and Guillaume, that is.”

  “Don’t forget Millbank, though I can’t quite se
e him bashing you over the head. I thought we might wander by Totsye’s pavilion,” I said. “See if she’s there, and if she is, perhaps ask her a few questions.”

  “Won’t the police still have it cordoned off?”

  “Possibly,” I said, “but even if Totsye’s not there, Robin might be, and I have it in mind to ask him a question or two.”

  “Lead on, Macduff,” Giles said grandly.

  I turned my head slightly to offer him a raised eyebrow, and he chuckled.

  As we moved in leisurely fashion toward our goal, I recalled what I had told him about our having some things to talk about. I repressed a shudder. Did we ever!

  I couldn’t bear to think how quickly it could all change when I told Giles everything about myself. What would I do if he never wanted to see me again?

  Like another Scarlett, I would think about that tomorrow.

  As we neared Totsye Titchmarsh’s pavilion, I could see a few people milling about Totsye was one of them, and she appeared to be in earnest conversation with the uniformed constable on duty. I focused my hearing to eavesdrop as we moved closer.

  “But I simply must have access to my things,” Totsye said in tones of great frustration. “I simply must, I tell you.”

  “I’m sorry, madam,” the earnest young PC said, standing ramrod straight to appear more authoritative. “But I cannot possibly let you inside without a direct order from Detective Inspector Chase.”

  Totsye stamped the ground in anger, her foot narrowly missing the PC’s boot. He moved back just a fraction.

  “This is utterly infuriating!” Totsye stood, her hands curled into claws as if she were about to launch herself on the hapless PC who stood in her way.

  “My dear Totsye,” I said, coming to a stop just behind her. “Whatever is the matter? Might I be of any assistance?”

  She shrieked and whirled around. Her right hand clutched at her ample, heaving bosom. “Simon! What a start you gave me.” She breathed deeply to calm herself. “You naughty, naughty man. But I forgive you. You may be of assistance, my dear.”

  “How so?” I asked, inclining my head slightly.

  She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “Can’t you use your influence with the police and get this odious little man to let me inside my pavilion? There are things inside that I simply must have, and he won’t let me.” Her lips twisted into an unattractive pout.