Treacherous Toys

by Joyce

  At least Edgar’s hold on Livy was over. With the secret out, he had nothing left to threaten her with.

  Edgar finally calmed down enough to notice that we were all looking at something behind him. “King Harold,” he said in a much lower voice as he turned.

  Harry didn’t say anything. He just stood there, glowering at Edgar.

  Edgar grabbed his chest and made a few choking sounds, then crashed sideways to the heavily carpeted floor.

  No one moved for a brief instant. Then I grabbed the two-way radio Livy always kept on her side table and called for help. Chase responded, and I told him what had happened.

  Livy had fainted and was being attended by her stalwart ladies, Barbara and Jane. How those two managed to stay here and not run out screaming as their coworker had done was beyond me sometimes.

  Harry, still not saying a word, nodded to his gentlemen, and they escorted him from the room.

  As much as I disliked Edgar, I crushed my gown so I could get on the floor beside him. I flipped him over and began CPR. He had no pulse. His lips were faintly blue and cold to the touch. A few of the household staff took turns relieving me, but it was too late.

  Edgar was pronounced dead at the castle when the paramedics arrived a short time later. Chase got there, accompanied by Detective Almond and his officers.

  “What a surprise,” Detective Almond said when he saw me. “If I ever need to know where the trouble is, I can always look for you. You’re usually in the thick of things, aren’t you?”

  I didn’t bother responding to that, but I did accept Chase’s help getting to my feet. You can crush those skirts, but don’t try to get up in them—too stiff and thick. No wonder women spent so much time doing needlepoint and had to ride sidesaddle.

  “Does she need an ambulance?” Detective Almond asked, nodding at Livy.

  “I don’t think so. She fainted,” I answered. “A paramedic is checking her out.”

  “So what happened this time?” he asked me, glancing at Edgar as they put him on the stretcher.

  “I think he had a heart attack.” I shrugged, wishing someone else would speak up. I certainly wasn’t an authority on the subject. “I don’t know for sure. One minute he was yelling at us—the next he was on the floor. It happened really quickly.”

  The last paramedic agreed with my diagnosis before he left the room.

  “What were all of you arguing about before the man fell over?” Detective Almond glanced at the other ladies in the room. They didn’t speak.

  I looked over at Livy, who was still out of it on the sofa. No help there. My protective instincts took over again. “I think Mr. Gaskin was upset about Christine’s kids not working today. He wanted them to make toys for the workshop tour that Father Christmas is supposed to do every hour or so.”

  “And that’s why he was dressed that way,” Detective Almond said. “He thought she could fix that? Is she head of the Christmas show or something?”

  I glanced at Chase. He nodded. We both knew I might as well tell him the whole story. “He was blackmailing the queen. They’d had an affair, about a year ago, I think. He threatened her if she didn’t invite him to the Village to play Father Christmas even though Chris and Christine were already here.”

  Almond frowned. “This is the man you suspected of killing Mr. Christmas, right?”

  “I’m afraid so.” I couldn’t help but feel a little let down by the recent event.

  “Why so glum? He’s out of the way now.”

  “Because now I can’t get him to confess and we’ll never know if he killed Chris. Christine—or some other innocent person—will be blamed for it. Edgar gets away free.”

  “Not exactly free,” he reminded me. “He won’t threaten anyone else again. Do you think he could be the one who stabbed the king last night, too? Might as well pin as much as we can on him since he’s gone.”

  I realized he was making fun of me. I didn’t return his banter. Maybe he didn’t consider Edgar a suspect in Chris’s death, but I did. I had anyway.

  While everyone else in the room was being questioned by Detective Almond and his officers, Chase escorted me out into the hall. Maids, kitchen workers, and a few jesters were out there rehashing everything that had just happened. Sir Reginald, Lord Dunstable, and Esmeralda stood nearby, too. Everyone was curious. Most of them thought Livy had killed Edgar.

  “No jury would have convicted her either,” Esmeralda said. “The man was a curse upon this castle. He deserved to die.”

  At first everyone looked surprised at her words, but seconds later they started agreeing with her. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like Edgar.

  “But what will Adventure Land do without a Father Christmas for the season?” Sir Reginald asked. “I doubt we can get another one this late in the year.”

  “Especially since two of them have died here,” a chubby chambermaid added.

  “They’ll think of something,” Chase assured them. “Someone will turn up.”

  Most of the action was over, and people started moving off to wherever they should have been. I was a little worried, despite Chase’s words, that the Village would have to shut down the holiday event. No doubt that would mean a large dip in profits. No one likes that.

  “What do we do now?” I asked Chase.

  “I’m thinking about questioning Harry about the attack. Want to come with me?”

  Of course I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure if Harry would say anything after our previous conversation. I didn’t want to hamper the investigation.

  “Maybe I’ll just hang around out here. Harry might be more willing to talk to you alone—man to man—that kind of stuff.”

  “All right. I’ll meet you here in a half hour or so. What were you doing with Livy anyway—questioning her?”

  There wasn’t really time to explain. “I’ll tell you over coffee when you get done.”

  He kissed me and walked toward Harry’s chambers.

  I thought about Harry’s first accident and went to the stairs where he’d fallen. It was dark on that side of the hall. Someone needed to install more lighting over here. I went slowly down the faux stone steps, amazed that Harry had only injured his arm in the fall.

  The stairs led to the basement, which was divided into several sections. In one area was the laundry room, crowded with huge washers and dryers, steam presses, and ironing boards.

  I remembered that it was always cool down here, even in the deep heat of summer. It was also surprisingly dry considering the concrete construction and the humidity everywhere else. That made it a perfect place for storage, too.

  The storage room housed what seemed like every item that had ever been used and then taken out of service in the Village. There were parts of the original Queen’s Revenge, set ablaze by accident on her maiden voyage. (She’d been rebuilt, and the crew now took more stringent fire precautions when they used the cannons.) Worn-out signs and remnants from long-gone shops cluttered the area as well.

  I walked through the aisles of shelves stacked with memorabilia, admiring items I’d never seen before and smiling at those I remembered from previous seasons at the Village. I really missed the curly-cheese-fry vendor who had once walked the cobblestones. He’d had images of a Rapunzel-type character on his cart (long curly hair, long curly fries). He’d been closed down for health reasons, and an obvious lack of common sense. Who wanted to think about hair and food at the same time?

  It was a trip down memory lane for me. Old costumes, like the king and queen’s coronation outfits, were there. I laughed at the huge crowns first created for each of them. Neither one of them could even hold their heads up under them.

  And that’s when it hit me. There must be something here that had belonged to the first king and queen. I remembered when they’d brought in an artist to paint a portrait of Harry and Livy, which now hung in the royal hall.

  Maybe Chris and Alice had their portraits painted, too.

  I knew Chase would be w
aiting for me soon, so I hurried to the farthest corner of the storage room. The light was very dim, no windows to the outside for natural light. I was going to need a flashlight if I was going to search for anything in here.

  Costumes were heaped in piles and laid across old broken chairs. Pieces of furniture and elegant lamp shades mingled with paste diamonds and other fake jewelry. Many of Andre Hariot’s grandest hats lay atop one another, gathering dust. This corner of the storage room was like the cave in Aladdin except that none of the treasures were what they seemed to be. They were only imitations of the real thing.

  “Is someone back here?” Esmeralda’s voice reached me in the tangled recesses of the dark room.

  “It’s me,” I called back. “Just looking around.”

  “Jessie? I thought we had a mouse again. The last time, a pack of mice did a lot of damage to the old costumes. I don’t know why they don’t box up all this stuff and start a Village museum. Or better yet, burn all of it. Maybe we’d have room for more important things that we really need.”

  “It would be terrible to get rid of all of this. But I like the idea of the museum. I take it the deeper you go into the storage room, the older the stuff gets.”

  “I don’t know. It’s such a mess in there. What are you looking for?”

  “I was hoping to find some of the stuff that had belonged to the original king and queen.”

  “You’re wasting your time,” she said. “My time, too. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “Don’t you think it’s kind of sad and romantic that the first king and queen have been forgotten? We should have their portrait up with Livy and Harry’s, don’t you think?”

  “They didn’t have a portrait. Things weren’t so elaborate back then.”

  Aha! She knew something.

  I pushed through all of the garments and other items to reach the door to the storage area. Esmeralda was gone already, but I tracked her down to her domain—the laundry room.

  She was getting ready to steam press some of the ladies’ clothing hanging on large racks. “I’m busy, Jessie. I don’t have time to think about the past. Why don’t you find something else to do?”

  “You knew Chris and Alice, the first king and queen, didn’t you?”

  “I haven’t been here that long.”

  “Then how do you know there isn’t a portrait of them?”

  She sighed and put down her steamer. Her face looked tired, but I knew she had the stamina that kept this whole place going. If it wasn’t for her and Rita, the castle would’ve collapsed years ago.

  “Okay. What do you want to know?”

  “Everything! How long were they king and queen? Roger says Alice and Chris left the Village together and got divorced later. Is there a photo of them?”

  “You’re like a dog with a bone.” She took a deep breath and leaned back against the washer. “They weren’t king and queen for long. Their relationship changed as the Village got started. I don’t know if they left together or not. And if there’s a picture, I’ve never seen it. Satisfied?”

  “What was it like back then?”

  “Less dramatic, I can tell you that.”

  “But was it still as much fun? What was Alice like? Did Chris look like Santa back then?”

  “I suppose it was more fun, in its way. Things were smaller. People were friendlier. There weren’t so many lords and ladies. It was more like a fairy tale. Not so corporate. I don’t remember what Alice looked like. Chris looked like a young Santa. I guess that was what was always in his heart. He didn’t really want to be king. They found out too late that it wasn’t right for them.”

  There were so many questions I wanted to ask her, but Chase came down the stairs looking for me. Esmeralda smiled. “Thank God you’ve come for her! How do you stay sane with her asking questions all the time?”

  “I don’t ask questions all the time,” I said defensively. “I don’t know why everyone doesn’t find this fascinating.”

  Chase laughed. “She’s right. She doesn’t ask questions all the time. Just most of it. But speaking of questions, have you noticed anything unusual going on in the castle?”

  Esmeralda shook her head. “Unusual? Could you give me some idea of what that would be, Bailiff? Because I think I’ve forgotten what’s normal for most people.”

  “Unless a castle resident pushed Harry down the stairs and then stabbed him, someone is sneaking in and out of the castle. I thought you or Rita might have noticed. You notice everything.”

  “Maybe you should talk to Livy’s ghost,” she said. “She swears the place is haunted by a dead soldier. I haven’t seen it, but it wouldn’t surprise me. If you ask me, Livy probably pushed Harry and stabbed him. I’m sure if it hasn’t happened already, it will soon.”

  It wasn’t much of an answer. Chase thanked her, and we went back upstairs. I confirmed the ghost story on our way down into the Village for coffee at the Monastery Bakery.

  “Maybe she’s been seeing someone real and just thinks he’s a ghost because of her raging hormones,” I suggested.

  “Maybe. But I don’t understand why anyone besides Livy would want to hurt Harry in the first place, and do such a bad job of it in the second.”

  I gave him my knowing look. “Can’t you?”

  We ordered coffee and sat at one of the rustic tables outside.

  “Are you saying Jolly did this and he’s the ghost Livy’s been seeing?” Chase asked.

  “He has good reason. He probably knows his mother was sleeping with Harry. Add that to the rest of his teenage dynamic and he could be volatile.”

  “That would make sense, I suppose. But I hope that’s not what happened.”

  I agreed, sipping my coffee. I glanced toward the Main Gate where a pretty young flower girl was playing the lute, and saw a welcome sight.

  “Christine! Over here! I’m so glad to see you.”

  Twenty

  When you’re taking care of someone else’s children, plants, or pets, there’s nothing like that magic moment when they come home. All of the worries you might have about these people and things that don’t belong to you are magically lifted from your shoulders.

  “Jessie! Chase!” She ran to us, dressed in street clothes, and we all hugged. “Where are the children? Are they all right? I hope they’ve been good for you. Jolly can be a little hardheaded.”

  “They’ve been fine,” I assured her. “They’re all out working and playing at various sites around the Village.” I explained what had happened to Edgar and how we’d wanted to keep them out of his way. “We’ve been waiting all day to hear something about you.”

  “It sounds like you’ve been busy anyway.” She smiled, tears misting her blue eyes. “I’m back—for now at least. Harry posted bail for me. Wasn’t that wonderful, especially after someone attacked him? I know he really loves me. I understand that he can’t leave his wife, but I know he cares.”

  I couldn’t argue with that, certainly didn’t want to. What Harry felt or didn’t feel seemed like the least of her problems.

  Chase and I filled her in on everything, and she told us that her court date would be after the first of the year. But Christine’s mind was more focused on Harry and Edgar.

  “I hope Harry will be all right” she said. “I’m not sorry to see Edgar go, though I wouldn’t have wished it on him. But now we’ll never know what happened to Chris. I still feel sure Edgar killed him. I don’t know how I’ll clear my name.”

  “I think we should go and find the kids.” Chase diverted her from that topic. “I know they’ll want to see you right away.”

  We started down the cobblestones, mindful of some droppings from a reindeer that had recently passed by. The street cleaners were right behind us. It was just another day for them.

  I hadn’t realized how far Chase had scattered the kids around the Village until we started picking them up. They had started in a few places then gravitated around the Village. Nick was helping out at the Hat House.
Merry Beth was at the Romeo and Juliet Pavilion working as a stagehand. Garland was helping the clockmaker at the Hands of Time clock shop, and the four youngest were all at the Mother Goose Pavilion.

  The only one missing was Jolly. Chase had left him at the blacksmith’s shop, helping with the horses that needed to be shoed. I saw him standing by the fence at the Field of Honor again and volunteered to go and get him.

  I’d also noticed Dennis Greene on the field working on his routine. This seemed like a perfect time to ask him if he recognized Jolly as the rogue knight.

  I dreaded the answer, but we had to know. Jolly had been through a lot in the past few days. If he was responsible for some of the mayhem that had gone on, he probably needed help to get past the anger that was feeding those destructive actions. It didn’t have to ruin the rest of his life.

  I was glad Christine was there, no matter how hard this would be on her. Jolly needed her. All the kids did.

  I hailed Dennis, who smiled and rode up to me on his dashing white gelding—a hero if ever there was one. He wore only his breastplate armor over faded trousers and a plain white shirt.

  “Lady Jessie! It’s good to see you. No repercussions with the bailiff from the King’s Feast, I trust, since he hasn’t tried to take my head off. I meant no disrespect.”

  “Thanks. It’s good to be seen. And no problems with Chase. You don’t have to worry.”

  “You’re not dressed for the field,” he said.

  “That’s for sure.” I stepped carefully on the patches of thick hay, avoiding the brown places on the field. There was no one to sweep the droppings away here, as on the cobblestones. The squires raked the field several times a day and threw down more hay, which was promptly trampled by the horses.

  “Have you come alone?” He grinned at me, the breeze catching his short brown hair. “I wouldn’t like to cross swords with the bailiff—I’ve heard he’s quite good—on the field and off. Though I’d take him on, if it would win your hand.”

  His handsome face was so young, so vibrant. It was hard to ignore him, even knowing his intentions. But I thought about Chase and straightened my spine. I hadn’t spent that much time in the castle. I remembered who I’d come to the dance with.