Treacherous Toys

by Joyce

  “I need your help, Sir Knight. Do you see that boy at the fence over there? Do you recognize him?”

  Dennis looked at Jolly, who was entranced as he watched the other knights put their horses through their paces. “I do not recognize him, lady. Should I?”

  My heart leapt even as my mind wondered—if not Jolly, then who? But I wanted to make sure. “You said you saw the young man who brought back the stolen horse and armor. Is he the young man?”

  “No. But now that you mention it.” He pointed behind me. “There he is now.”

  I turned and saw that Chase, Christine, and the rest of the children had decided to come up to the field. “That’s the bailiff, Sir Knight. I know you aren’t identifying him as the rogue knight.”

  He laughed. “No, my lady. The tallest in that group of children. He looks to be thirteen or fourteen, I think. That’s why I knew he was too young for the job.”

  I looked again. He was talking about Nick.

  I wanted to ask him one more time if he was absolutely sure, but by that time Christine was hugging Jolly and Chase was staring at me, probably wondering why I was talking to Dennis again.

  I excused myself from the knight and walked carefully back to the fence.

  I would’ve ducked between the rails as I had before, but Chase lifted me over with his hands on my waist. “Is that the same knight you were with outside the castle before the feast?”

  “I told you he had information,” I muttered, wishing he’d get over it. “He just identified Nick as the rogue knight.”

  That took his mind off Dennis. “Maybe he needs glasses. Nick is just a kid. Jolly, I could believe. He’s got to be lying.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  I decided that confronting Nick would best be done in more pleasant surroundings. I offered to buy everyone fudge at Frenchy’s, which was only a short walk from the field. The little sweet shop also had outside tables where we could discuss what was going on with a little privacy.

  The kids were all for it. They raced each other away from the field. Christine wasn’t sure. She had so much to do and needed time to talk with her children about what might happen next.

  “The only thing I can think to do is to send them to my sister in Des Moines. She and her husband have two children of their own. It would be hard for them, but I’ve spoken to her and she’ll take them if I have to go back to jail. Better a crowded house with family than a foster home.”

  I agreed. “But maybe you won’t need that plan. I’m still hoping we can figure out who really killed Chris.”

  “Without Edgar’s confession, I feel like my goose is cooked. I don’t see how we can prove that he did it now that he’s gone.”

  There was no doubt that it would be much harder. “It’s not impossible. We just have to figure out how all the pieces fit together.”

  Chase didn’t look very convinced either. I knew how he felt about all the evidence adding up against Christine. I hoped he wouldn’t say it out loud.

  “Anyway, we’ve got time before your trial,” I continued. “We have time.”

  “Except that I’m going to have to leave the Village,” she said. “I can’t leave Myrtle Beach, but Adventure Land doesn’t like the idea of someone charged with murder being onsite making toys. Really, I think the whole Christmas theme is a bust for the Village. You’ll never get another Santa this late in the season.”

  “I’ve heard a few rumors about that,” Chase said. “Adventure Land isn’t giving up on the project just yet.”

  “But we still have the problem with them wanting to evict Christine,” I reminded him. “You could talk to Merlin. He could change that edict.”

  “That’s true. I could ask him about that. Or you could ask him. He likes you, Jessie.”

  Christine smiled between us. “You’re both so good. I wouldn’t dream of asking either one of you to put yourselves out that way. The kids and I will manage. We always have.”

  “But, in this case, we need you here to help solve the murder.” I hoped Chase wouldn’t say anything about us not looking for Chris’s killer.

  “I’ll talk to Merlin,” he said. “I don’t like getting in the middle of things like this, but someone needs to do it.”

  I hugged him. “Thanks.”

  He whispered close to my ear, “But the first time you go off without me to interrogate someone you think might be the killer, the deal is off. I’m the bailiff. You can snoop around, but when it comes to closing the deal, I want to be there. Right?”

  “Absolutely,” I quietly agreed. If I wanted to see this through, it seemed I had no choice.

  We had finally reached the fudge shop. I felt a little guilty to have raised Christine’s spirits and expectations only to get ready to accuse Nick of something terrible. But I felt it would be better to clear the air. We could go on from there.

  True to my word, I picked out several different kinds of fudge, but before I could pay, Chase stepped in with Lady Visa. “I’ll take care of this. You get ready for the bad news.”

  Christine had waited at one of the picnic tables outside under a makeshift umbrella designed to look as though it could’ve been used during the Renaissance. During the hot summers, people needed someplace to sit where they could escape the sun. It was the best the Village could do, historically speaking.

  We took the fudge outside and divided it up among the group. As the children ate happily, I struggled to find the right moment to ask Nick about his part in the events of the past few days. A juggler came along with a distraction, and it looked like perfect timing to me.

  “Nick, a friend of mine saw you return the horse and armor you borrowed from the Field of Honor,” I said between bites of fudge. I needed chocolate, too.

  “What are you saying, Jessie?” Christine stopped watching the juggler and turned toward me.

  “Do you want to tell her, Nick?” I asked. He looked guilty enough without saying a word.

  “It wasn’t him.” Jolly stepped in. “It was me. I did it.”

  I was surprised. Jolly didn’t seem to be much of a family person. Of course, in a crunch, even Tony would come down on my side.

  “Did what?” Christine stood up and folded her arms across her chest. “Somebody better tell me what’s going on.”

  All the kids started talking at once. Apparently, they all knew about Nick’s outing on the horse. I should’ve known they’d cover for him.

  “I took the horse,” Nick finally admitted, his voice rising above the others and silencing them. “I borrowed the armor and lance. I knew what was happening, Mom. I knew you were seeing that other guy, the king. I saw you with him the first night we got here.”

  Now it was Christine’s turn to look guilty. “You should’ve said something. We could’ve talked about it.”

  “I thought you probably killed Dad so you could be with the other guy,” Nick said. “That’s why I was so angry. I didn’t really mean to hurt anyone with the horse. I just wanted to do something.”

  Christine sat back down. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry. You should know I would never have hurt your father. I loved him. I was just lonely. If you know about me, you must know about him, too.”

  Eight solemn faces nodded (though I was pretty sure the younger kids didn’t know what she was talking about).

  “I’m sorry.” Nick put his arms around his mother and cried. “I thought it was you I saw in the workshop when Dad was killed.”

  That made all of us sit up a little straighter and pay more attention. Chase started to speak, but Christine frowned at him. She tugged the teenager on her lap and held him.

  “Explain what you mean, Nick. What do you mean you saw someone in the workshop when Dad was killed?”

  I could tell it was hard for Nick to explain his actions through the grief of losing his father. “I went down from the house to get my MP3 player. Dad was in the workshop, waiting for Jessie. He was setting up to make some toys.”

  “What
did you see?” Chase asked impatiently.

  I tugged at his arm and shook my head. It wouldn’t do any good to push Nick right now. He needed to tell the story in his own way.

  “He was sitting at a worktable when the woman came into the shop. I couldn’t see what she looked like—she was wearing one of those big scarf things across her head and face. She was dressed all in black. I thought it was you, Mom. I waited by the stairs to listen to what you were talking about.”

  Nick wiped his eyes and his voice steadied. “She didn’t say anything. Dad didn’t move. He kept right on working on the toys. She walked up behind him. That’s when I heard the loud popping sound. Dad fell on the table, then on the floor. I couldn’t move. I’m sorry. I should’ve done something. I let him die. I’m sorry.”

  He broke down completely after his recollection of his father’s death. He sobbed into Christine’s arms like a baby. I wondered how he’d managed to keep it inside and quiet for the past few days. Then I realized he’d been protecting his mother.

  “It’s okay, Nicky,” Christine said, tears sliding down her face. “You couldn’t have known what was going to happen. There was nothing you could do. You did the best thing by staying hidden. Who knows what would’ve happened if she’d seen you.”

  “What happened next?” Chase looked at me and shrugged. I guess he couldn’t help himself.

  Nick wiped his nose and face on his shirt. Eww.

  “The woman looked at Dad for a minute, then threw the gun on the floor. She walked back outside. I didn’t know what to do. I went and got the gun and took it upstairs. I didn’t want the police to find it and blame you, Mom.”

  “That’s why the police found the gun in the house,” I said. “There has to be some way to prove that to Detective Almond. Maybe if Nick told the police what happened, they’d drop the charges against Christine.”

  “Not necessarily drop the charges,” Chase said. “But maybe it would give them something else to think about. That’s one less strike against her.”

  “But how in the world would we prove that what Nick described even happened? I don’t think they’ll take the word of a fourteen-year-old boy,” Christine said.

  “I’m sorry, Jessie,” Nick continued. “I thought it might be that woman again when you walked in. I got on a chair behind one of the wooden posts and whacked you as hard as I could with a piece of wood. It was too late once I realized who you were, so I ran out.”

  How could I not forgive him? Nick had been through a horrible experience. He’d been scared out of his mind. “You did what you thought you had to do. I’m not mad at you.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled at me.

  “Okay, I understand about the horse, trying to show your mother how angry you were,” Chase continued. “But what about the king? Did you push him down the stairs in the castle?”

  As Nick shook his head, he looked at Jolly.

  “He didn’t do that,” Jolly said. “I did.”

  Twenty-one

  “We know you want to take up for your brother, Jolly,” Chase said. “But we need to know who’s really responsible.”

  “I’m not taking up for anyone,” Jolly snarled. “I went to the castle to have a talk with that guy and tell him to stay away from Mom. I saw him walking around, so I followed him. I watched him go to the stairs, and I was so angry. Nick told me that he thought Mom had killed Dad, and I blamed the king for it. When he started down the stairs, I pushed him. I know I shouldn’t have, but I just did. Maybe they should put me in jail, too.”

  I could tell Chase was choosing his words carefully before he asked the next big question. It was one thing to push someone down the stairs, but stabbing them? That was something else entirely. Jolly was looking guilty of both attacks.

  “The king was stabbed, Jolly,” Chase said finally. “Were you responsible for that, too?”

  I half expected Merry Beth to admit to stabbing the king. There seemed to be a network among the children for finding things out, getting things done, and keeping secrets.

  But no one said anything until Jolly spoke up. “No, sir. I didn’t do that. I pushed him. That was all.”

  “You came back to the house late,” I added. “You were covered in blood, Jolly. Are you sure you weren’t involved? It’s better to admit it now.”

  “No! I didn’t do it. I’d tell you if I did. I don’t think anyone would blame me even if I killed the bastard.”

  “Jolly!” Christine tried to rein in his language. “There’s no reason to get vulgar about it.”

  “Sorry,” he said, although he didn’t sound sincere.

  Chase took a deep breath. “I think we’re going to have to talk with Detective Almond about this. I’m sorry. Jolly, you might get in some trouble for what you did. But in the long run, this could help your mother. I think we all want that, right? All of you understand that your mother wasn’t responsible for your father’s death.”

  They all nodded.

  “Is there anything else you recall about the woman who shot your father, Nick?” Chase asked. “I’m sorry to take you through it again, but the police will want to ask you the same question. It’s better for you to have a chance to think about your answer.”

  Nick sniffed and wiped his eyes. He got up from Christine’s lap and sat down next to Merry Beth. “She was dressed like all the other ladies here—in a big, old dress. Everything was black. I can’t think of anything else.”

  “But you’re sure she didn’t speak to your father? And he didn’t see her at all?” Chase continued.

  “No. She didn’t say anything. If he saw her, he didn’t act like it. That was another reason I thought it was Mom. You know how people act around each other when they’re used to someone being there? They kind of ignore the other person sometimes. Dad did that a lot with Mom.”

  “I know what you mean,” Chase said. “You know what to tell the police then. They might ask you to help them make a sketch of the woman.”

  “What about the note that was left at the workshop?” I asked the group in general. “Did any of you see the threatening note to your mother?”

  “I saw it,” Garland said. “But I didn’t write it.” He looked at his brothers and sisters for confirmation. All of them shook their heads. None of the others had even seen the note.

  “So the woman who killed Chris might have left that note, too,” I said.

  “If it was a woman,” Chase replied. “Just because the killer was wearing a dress, doesn’t mean it was a woman. A man can wear a dress, too. Maybe that was why he or she used the heavy black veil. There might be a way we can pick up some other details about her from Nick.”

  “How?” Christine asked.

  “We’ll have to go back into the old workshop where Chris was killed. We might be able to get a general idea as to how tall the killer was if there’s some object Nick can compare the woman’s height to. Maybe the chair Chris was sitting in or the door where she came in.”

  “Kind of like the height chart they use at fast-food places to help ID robbers?” I guessed.

  “Exactly. We might be able to determine a few other things, too.” Chase smiled at Nick. “Are you up for it?”

  Nick nodded. “Anything to help Mom.”

  Christine agreed, reluctantly, to take the other children back to the apartment in the manor house where they were staying. We all knew it would be easier for Nick to concentrate on trying to come up with more details about the killer if the other kids weren’t there.

  Maybe I should’ve volunteered to take them so she could go with Nick and Chase, but I felt that the kids needed to be with her. I knew she felt the same way. She was worried about Nick, but she also knew he was in good hands.

  I was relieved that Nick and Jolly hadn’t done anything worse than move some evidence and push Harry down the stairs. That was bad enough, but at least it wasn’t the next step up—which was how I viewed Harry getting stabbed.

  “If Jolly and Nick aren’t responsible for what
happened to Harry last night,” I asked Chase, “who do you think is? What did he say to you when you talked to him?”

  “Not much. He was kind of fuzzy about the whole thing. He didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything. The next thing he knew, there was a paring knife in his back.”

  We were standing outside the door to the workshop where Chris had been killed, waiting for Paul Miller to join us. The police had padlocked the door to be sure no one went inside. He had the key.

  Chase had already called Detective Almond. He couldn’t be there until later that day. It wasn’t going to be any fun for the kids or the rest of us when he talked to Nick and Jolly. There would definitely be consequences for their actions. I just hoped he wasn’t too hard on them, considering all they’d been through.

  It started raining as Paul Miller arrived. He was in a red vendor’s costume and was pushing a pretzel cart. He smiled and shook Chase’s hand. I ignored him when he tried to be friendly with me. I didn’t trust him.

  “So you say this young man has some information pertaining to the case?” He ignored me in return and talked to Chase, ruffling Nick’s dark hair with his hand. “How will it benefit us to go in and disturb the crime scene?”

  Chase explained that Nick had seen the killer. “I thought if he went back inside we might be able to pick up on more details. If we know the killer’s height, at least, that would give us something more to go on.”

  Miller shrugged. The rain had begun falling harder, chasing visitors and residents into shops and restaurants. Most visitors would wait to see if the sun would come back out. Tickets weren’t refundable because of bad weather. No one wanted to go halfway through the Village and have to leave. It was too expensive and annoying.

  “I think that’s possible,” he finally said. “Detective Almond called me. He said to let you have some leeway on this.”

  “Thanks,” Chase said. “Can we get out of the rain now?”

  Miller opened the door with the key on his rope belt. I was surprised to see that he was carrying a small gun in his costume, too. I would’ve thought, since there were a lot of children and other people who could get hurt, that a gun wouldn’t be allowed.