"So, if that had been the original," Raven adds, "there would have only needed to be one night crating, wouldn't there?"
"Exactly. Unless the original was at Ickabod's..."
"But if they'd stolen it from Ickabod's..."
"No," Jessica explains her theory, "it would have had to be switched. Each crating took place after the date that Ickabod purchased his statue at the auction and had it brought over by volunteers."
"So you think someone took it from his house, and brought the fake over?"
"Yes!"
"Ah, pretty good, Jess. Not bad, I say."
"Oh, but there's more. The second shipping of the night crated piece went to St. Bart's chapel."
"Huh," Raven says.
"Yeah, huh..." Jessica leans in toward him lowering her voice, "located on the grounds of... the Ancestral Academy of Obsequious - Raven joins in:} Kinship."
"Elizabeth Snits! Would your father be that evil? Well, ofcourse, he is, but I mean, to you? If he did switch the statues, or his ghouls, why send you there?" Raven exclaims.
"A cover up? We already know he needs money.
Besides, he'll say, and it's true, he didn't get me kicked out of school, I did... but how quickly he knew of the substitute school, ya know?"
"Uh-uh-uh... gives me shivers," Raven rubs his hands along his arms to hold down the goosebumps.
"I know! But here's the part I didn't tell you... didn't tell anyone..."
"What?" he asks.
"I've had dreams. Interesting dreams, Raven. You wouldn't know, but I've been there, in my sleep, to the same door, up the same stairs... night after night...” she leans in even closer and whispers “but only on the nights that I... feed...” Raven covers his mouth, almost gasping.
“and in the dreams... it does the thing it's supposed to, the legend.”
"No! Abominations! Absolutely shocking. And just for your information, I won't go. I know what you're about to ask and I won't go."
Jessica continues on, as if she hasn't heard him, "All one knows is that I can't wait to see the thing for real. I'll ask Cedric to drive us, can you go today?"
Raven sighs, "I won't." Jessica holds out $50.
"I'll have to ask my mom," he says taking the bill.
"Today's not good. Do you really have to do this?" he pauses for a minute then puts the money on the table.
"Jessica, I can't. I don't think you understand what it is you're asking."
"Yes, I do." Raven sits back from the table.
"No, honestly, Jessica, I'm sad to say this, but you're so much a vampire, you're no longer my friend." Jessica turns and looks back at the driver. She blushes, then leans in toward Raven.
"What? No, I'm not."
"Jess, you are. I can't believe how you're working this story to get me up there, alone, with you, so that you can just turn on me and suck my blood."
"It isn't about..."
"Oh, yes it is. You actually have yourself talked into thinking it's about something else, but all I hear, after this whole turn of events, is me alone with you in some dark corner turning me to victim from best, or only, friend. I'd rather not have a friend at all than a vampire in denial."
Jessica says, practically crying, "O Raven! There it is. You're so suspicious. You can't be serious...
"I'm sorry Jess. Sorry."
He gets up from the table, tips his hat to the guy in the black coat and says, "Good day."
Jessica wants to yell, "O please, I wouldn't even think about your blood! It’s not like I don’t have any control!" But she doesn't want to cause a scene. She thinks of Ickabod and Gretchen. She wishes she'd been funny, light-hearted about it all, but a failure, she thinks, what a failure. He's afraid of her, and really, she doesn't even want to be a vampire. She does want to be Raven's friend.
Back at home, in her father's office Jessica crys in fits with her feet up on a chaise chair, holding tissue to her nose occassionally wailing, "O Father!"
She stops crying to blow her nose, then asks, "When does it stop? When does it stop hurting?"
"I'll give it to you like this, darling, it doesn't."
"No!” she protests, and then cries again, “O, father!".
"Don't you know I'd change it for you if I could? Jess, I can't." He sits down next to her and holds out a glass.
"Try to have a drink of water."
Working on solving the case with Ickabod becomes Jessica's relief to the loss of her friendship and the fact that Raven just can't be consoled. At Ikabod's, Jessica talks with Date and the three men who had inspected the artwork and found it a fake. Ickabod is on an important phone call with the detective. After he hangs up the phone, he looks around the room of assembled helpers.
"It is, not only authentic," he says loudly, "but it was sold to the cathedral exactly 4 days after my party and shipped on the 5th!" Several people in the room utter sounds of astonishment.
"That's it!" Date concludes.
"I knew it all along," Jessica tells her.
"Well, not all... along, but at least the last couple of days." She smiles.
One of the three men as Ickabod, "What would you like us to do, now?" Ickabod pats him on the back, smiling for the first time in several days.
"I think you're off the case," he says. "Appreciated your help, certainly."
"You can prove that the statue was yours, first, can't you?"
"That's quite a question, but yes."
"All to the good... or as vampires say it, All to the salubrious... that mean's good, in a nourishing way. I must be going! I'd like to see it safely home, I'll be in your service should you need me."
"And I could say the same to you, girl, save wickedness, should you need me. Don't forget to call your driver," Ickabod reminds.
Jessica whines, "O, Date, could you take me? I'm so beginning to loathe the fuss over me by that... that... staff!"
Date giggles, "Not used to the attention?"
Jessica shakes her head, "No."
"Sure, I'll undertake the responsibility," she says.
"I've been meaning to stop in and see your father afterall..." Ickabod groans.
Date looks at him, "What?"
Ickabod carries on, "Yes, what?... Do go, then, both of you, but remember where you left me. A tout a l'heure!"
"Toodles!" Jessica teases. She likes Date and is glad she has forgiven (or forgotten, as most mortal don't know they do) her and her father. She doesn't care that Ickabod thinks Date is barking up the wrong tree. She only hopes that one day Raven will be as forgiving.
But secretly, she wonders, “Was he right?”
She insists, after arriving back home that her driver take her where Raven refused to go. Could the calling be that strong, was she out to prove to herself it had nothing to do with the viciousness that Raven had accused her that lurked inside her soul - just the day before? Jessica decides it could help her win back his friendship, and hopefully, also, curtail the thirst she has been feeling ever since this whole statue bit began.
Wearing a disguise, Jessica enters a large door under the moniker: St. Barthalemew's Cathedral. Jessica enters into the open room of high ceilings, colorful windows, lit candles, narrow pews and the smell of parchment and oil. In the quiet, Jess can hear her own footsteps as she walks, looking at each statue that lines the walls and covets of the wide, open room. Jessica's breath seems loud in the stillness. The room is cold. She folds her arms around her and walks holding onto herself. A monk walks quietly up beside her. Jessica is caught off guard.
"O! Hello! Ummm..." the monk drums his fingertips against each other. He makes a meekly smile and tilts his head looking into her eyes. He doesn't say anything to her, so she continues walking. He continues walking next to her for a while. She walks looking from statue to statue and back to the odd acting monk beside her, not knowing what to make of his strange behavior and the look of the church.
"Yes, can I help you with anything in particular today?" Quickly and to the point, she asks about
the distinct reason she has come.
"I'm looking for the statue of the Saint of Nostramadeus." The monk's mood suddenly changes. He becomes agitated.
"O, hold on a minute, now... wh-who told you about that... statue? I've only had that statue a couple weeks, now. Wai -wait... back up... you didn't call, first. I can't just have you stopping in here unannounced."
"Sorry," Jessica says. She does not want to make any trouble.
"I would've liked to call first, but I didn't know the number." The monk calms himself.
Less agitated he explains, "Well, see," again, he drums his fingertips together and looks side to side, "this isn't a good time, you can't just stop by..."
"Did I do something wrong?" Jessica asks innocently.
"Again, sorry. But, please forgive me. I have come here to see the statue, sent by the crating company... a follow-up, to see what I did, make sure it wasn't... lost, stolen, damaged... switched?..." She giggles nervously. "I have come to make a report, fill out the papers, you know, tell them it's good, I got here in one piece - that sort of thing. Okay?"
At that, the monk drums his fingertips together until they fumble to twiddling fingers and then he drops his arms to his sides, his fingers still twitching.
"Yes, well..." he practically yells, "O alright!" He points out the side door near the rectory, "It's out there... in the chapel."
He pauses, then tell her, "Go ahead."
Jessica tells him quietly, "Thanks."
She turns and walks toward the sunlight stream through the open door. She follows a cobbled path to a smaller building with many windows. She opens the door and nearly hears angels singing as the sunlight catches the statue, illuminating the darkest corner where the statue stands, in the chapel all alone. Stands, quietly, looking at it. The monk steps into the doorway. He is humming; his arms full of roses. A tear forms in his eye, and he rubs his hand down his left eye. The pale, whiteness of the statue shines as he steps back out of the doorway and the stream of sunlight re-enters the room. Jessica steps up to the statue and looks for the missing part. She pulls out the photo from her pocket, looks at it, and then looks at the statue. Their on her finger is a delicate, intricately carved ring.
"Good," she says, "it is authentic."
Jessica walks out to look for the monk and ask him some questions. She traipses down the cobbled path around the side of the chapel and stops short as she looks up and sees a field. She stares a while. She realizes it is the same field she has seen in her dream. Then she hears the monk humming a strange m-mm-mm sort of hum. She turns her head and sees him in the garden cutting roses. She looks again at the field. Her eyes grow more wide open realizing the pieces of the dream, and she feels a desire to be, again, in the room with the statue, but she does not wish to stay here long. She spies a wheelbarrow just to the side of the cobbled path. Before she can stop herself, Jessica hurries into the garden to bother the monk and ask him some questions.
M. Ghoul, the same who had followed Jessica to the coffee shop, silently appears around the corner of the chapel. He stealthfully commandeers the wheelbarrow and then disappears into the chapel. In the chapel, he grabs a cloth from a table wraps it around the statue, then lowers it into the wheelbarrow. He puffs and pants as he lowers it in, then turns and runs out with the wheelbarrow, heading quickly for the high grasses of the field.
Jessica asks the monk, worried about its immediate effect on her, "Have you noticed anything strange about the statue?" the monk looks up. He stops humming the strange tune. Jessica continues.
"Have you heard, um, any rumor? The legend?" The monk shakes his head yes, up and down. Quickly, without looking up from his rose cutting.
Jessica says aloud what she thinks he is telling her, "Yes, exactly." The monk, again, shakes his head 'yes', up and down. This time he looks at her quickly, and then again looks down and continues clipping roses. Jessica begins to ask another question, but then stops herself as she is not sure how to explain - to a monk – what she is asking.
"Has it?..." the monk again shakes his head 'yes', up and down, without looking up, and without waiting for her to finish her question. He seems to understand that she is not sure how to say what she is asking.
She continues on, "At night?..." the monk shakes his head 'yes', up and down. Again, not, looking up, and continuing with what he is doing.
"Does it seem to have a pattern to it?" Jessica asks and notices the monk fanatically shaking his head no, side to side, before she has finished asking the question.
"You can't talk about it?" Jessica asks. Again, the monk shakes his head.
"You won't talk about it?" He agrees.
"You aren't talking? Are you?" He shakes his head in agreement, up and down.
"But you spoke, in there, in the cathedral." He nods, again, in agreement.
"You talk in the cathedral, but not out here?" He nods-in-agreement.
"Have you taken to silence, outside the church?" He nods-in-agreement, smiling that she understands his predicament.
"Over this?" Jessica points toward the statue. He nods-in-agreement.
"O..." She looks back toward the chapel.
"Do you like..." He is already fervently shaking his head 'no', from side to side, by the time she says, "the statue?"
"Ahh," she says as he begins to dig vegetables, now, with new fervor. She takes a few steps backward and then quietly walks back up the pathway. Jessica walks slowly, looking down at the cobbled walkway, as her driver approaches.
"You ready, ma'am?" he asks.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so," she says. She turns to look toward the chapel.
"Although, I'd kind of like to say goodbye." Just then the monk comes running toward Jessica. Motioning toward the chapel, hysterically.
"In there? the chapel?" Jessica asks. The monk, out of breath from running, nods once again in agreement. Jessica and her driver hurry toward the chapel.
The ghoul who has once again stolen the statue hurries along the sidewalk of the metropolis. The statue, barely covered, lies awkwardly in the wheelbarrow. He is hurrying, weaving in and out of people. A woman in a wheelchair with a little dog riding with his legs on her thighs and his front paws up on the arm of the wheelchair begins to approach. Ghoul is hurrying, he motions, with his head for her to get over. Her eyes widen with fervor and she speeds up the chair without swerving. He, in turn, picks up his pace and they begin to stubbornly play chicken, both insisting the other must move over for they were there, on the sidewalk, first. Just then, a shop owner lunges out his door sending the old lady toppling over and the wheelbarrow, unable to swerve at the last minute runs right into the wheels of the chair and topples, the statue falling out and breaking the glass of the store window. The shop owner grabs a nearby security guard who reprimands Ghoul and begins to question him.
The Quill Pen Killer
Chapter Ten:Not Every Girl Gives Up The Ghost– That Easily
Jessica consoles the monk, now standing with her in the chapel, where the statue once stood as Date takes photos and Ickabod paces, nearly in fits.
"Dreadful! Just dreadful!" he exclaims.
"Did you see anyone?" Date asks the two of them.
"No. Just my driver," Jessica tells her. Date glances at him standing, hands crossed in front, near the doorway.
"Felons!" Ickabod swears.
Date looks directly at the monk, "Did you? See anyone?"
He timidly shakes his head, from side to side, "No," while putting his nose in the tissues that Jessica keeps handing him. Date looks toward Ickabod.
"I'll call the newspaper. We'll find this guy," she tells him.
Ickabod spits out, "Lowlifes!"
Jessica says out loud, while looking where the statue once stood, "It feels like, and this may sound strange, like a part of me is missing... Automatically, I had such a personal attachment to this artwork, you know?"
Ickabod blurts out, "Ruffians!"
Date puts a hand on her shoulder, "Yes, honey, I know," she
says. Jessica grabs a few tissues for herself and walks toward the driver.
"I think I'm ready to go home, now," she tells him, blotting her nose with the tissue. She says her good-byes to the group and then walks out into the sunlight, entering the back seat of the car, as the door is opened for her.
"Thanks," she tells him. "It was really a difficult day; so close to her, and then losing her again," she writes in her notebook. "Solving a case, really shouldn't be this hard. I guess the people who solve them aren't attached to them," she thinks. "I guess this is what sleuthing is about." And for the tenth time that day, she misses talking with Raven. Instead of sulking, she watches out the window as the car winds along the roads home, and then, up the long, winding avenue to the mansion she calls 'home'.
Inside the DeAngeliuson's Mansion, she is consoled by the company of Mattressa in the library, dusting book shelves. Jessica joins in, to help her, so she can talk with Mattressa. She doesn't want to be alone right now.
"All I know," she tells her, "is that I've cried about it as much as I can cry."
"You're taking this awfully personally, Miss, Jessica," Mattressa says.
"Won't want to be slurping a pint of regret, now, misses. You've been too wrapped up in that statue. Why don't you do something to try to get the disappearance off your mind?"
"Mattressa, that photo, from the old ornaments box... Where did you get those?"
"From the attic apartment, dear." Jessica asks her, "Can I have the key?" Mattressa takes the keys out from her apron pocket.
"Here," she says, "it's one of these." Jingling the keys, Jessica ascends the winding staircase up to the attic.
She pauses. "Wow!" she thinks, "Again, an image that looks like my dream."
At the top of the attic stairs, in the darkness, Jessica searches out a light. As she turns it on, and her eyes adjust, she notices the light reflecting off of a something that is half-covered with red cloth. Jessica breaths in heavy and then removes the cloth.
The Quill Pen Killer (Vampire DeAngeliuson Book 1) Page 9