Jane Fairfax 3 - Jane Vows Vengeance

by Michael Thomas Ford

  “I don’t kill them,” Jane protested. “I just drink from them a little.”

  Squish spat on the floor. “What good are ya then?” he asked.

  Jane pointed at the painting. “I take it that’s Fiona,” she said.

  Squish nodded.

  “Then the stories are true,” said Jane. “About her being a witch.”

  Squish snorted. “She weren’t nae witch,” he said. “Joost had second sight is all. Could see those of us from the other side, so to speak.”

  He jumped down from the bed and walked over to where Jane stood. His pointed hat reached just above her knee. It was very red, and Jane wondered how recently it had been dyed. Squish looked up at the painting and sighed deeply. “I dae miss her,” he said. Then he turned his gaze to Jane. “I still da nae know what you’re doin’ here, though.”

  “I was looking for the bathroom. I came in here by mistake.”

  “No one comes in here by mistake. There’s a spell on this room. Only ones who find it are ones what get stuck in the enchantment, and them’s the ones whose heads I stave in.”

  “Well, I certainly hope that won’t be the case,” said Jane. “But honestly, I don’t know why I’m here.”

  Squish stared at her for a long time. “Said yer a vampire, did ya?”

  She nodded.

  “Nae a very good one, I don’t think.”

  “Why do you say that?” Jane asked, wounded.

  “The other ones that come through here, they knew just what they wanted.”

  “Other ones,” said Jane. “What other ones?”

  “The three,” said Squish. “Can nae recall their names. Very tiresome, they were.”

  “Tedious,” Jane said.

  “Whit?” asked Squish.

  “They were tedious. The Tedious Three. At least, I’m guessing they were. Were they looking for Crispin’s Needle?”

  The red cap brightened. “That was it!” he said. “Mibbie yer lookin’ for the same thing?”

  “Actually, I am,” said Jane. “Did you give it to them?”

  Squish shook his head. “Could nae give them what I do nae have,” he replied. “Naw idea what they were talkin’ aboot. Care to fill me in?”

  Jane explained what the Needle did, or was supposed to do. When she was done Squish nodded. “Now I see,” he said. “Fiona, she knew a lot of strange folk. Vampires, some of ’em. Probably these three thought one of them may have given it to her or told her where ’twas.”

  “But she never mentioned it to you?” Jane asked.

  “Nae that I can recall,” said Squish. “And I ken recall a lot.”

  Jane sighed. “Well then, I guess there’s nothing you can do for me either.”

  “Who said I was goin’ to do anything for ye? Yer lucky I did nae bash yer head with a rock. I think that’s doin’ enough.”

  “Yes, you would,” said Jane irritably. “But it seems to me that if there’s a spell on this room and only people who have second sight can find it, there should be some reason. Do you see what I mean?”

  Squish rubbed his chin. “Ye may have a point. Almost makes me feel bad for bashin’ in the heads of so many what come here.”

  “You didn’t bash the heads of the Tedious Three, did you?” Jane asked.

  “That I did nae,” said Squish. He reached in his pocket. “Nicked this from one of them, though,” he said, pulling out a gold key about four inches long.

  “What’s it for?” she asked.

  “I’ve nae idea,” said Squish. “I joost like stealin’ things. Think it might be important?”

  “I don’t know,” Jane said. “It looks like an ordinary old-fashioned door key. It could be to anything really.”

  “Then ye might as well have it,” he said, holding it out to Jane.

  “What will I do with it?”

  “How am I supposed to know that? Yer the one goin’ on aboot there bein’ some reason ye came here, and I’ve got nothin’ to give ye save this key or a rock to yer head, so choose which it’ll be.”

  “I choose the key,” Jane said, taking it from him and slipping it into her pocket.

  “I thought ye might,” said the red cap, sounding disappointed.

  Jane turned and put her hand on the doorknob. Then she looked at Squish, who was once again sitting on the bed, staring at the painting of Fiona.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Squish looked at her and frowned. “Be gone with ye,” he said. “I’ve no time for foolishness.” He hesitated. “But mibbie if that key turns out to be somethin’, ye kin come back and tell me aboot it. If ye can find yer way, that is, and not get lost in a toilet.”

  Jane smiled, but just a little. “I’ll do my best,” she said, and opened the door.

  Friday: Edinburgh

  AS THE PLANE BOUNCED AROUND, FIRST DROPPING AND THEN RISING as the winds carried it like a leaf, Jane fingered the key in her hand and wondered what it would be like to die in a crash. Would the plane drop out of the sky like a stone, or would it somehow glide down before eventually landing in the sea and coming apart? She considered asking Walter to explain to her once more the principles of flight. Walter, however, was too busy throwing up into an airsickness bag to answer any questions.

  “First the ferry, now the plane,” he said as he rested his head against the back of the seat in front of him. “I hate traveling. I’m never leaving home again.”

  The plane dipped precipitously. A collective groan went up from the passengers, and Walter added to the contents of the bag. Jane took the bag from her seat pocket and handed it to him. He took it without comment, rolling up the full one and placing it on the floor between his feet.

  Just in case, Jane looked at the laminated safety card helpfully provided to each passenger. The nearest exit was a few rows ahead of her, and in the event of a water landing she was fairly confident that she could get to the door without too much bother. And my seat cushion becomes a flotation device, she noted. How clever. Although I would be more impressed if the plane could become a ship.

  She tucked the card back into the seat pocket, put her hand on Walter’s back, and went back to wondering what the key Squish had given her might be for. The fact was, she had absolutely no idea, and any guess she might make would be just that, a guess. But she supposed that should she ever come across the door or chest or gigantic egg to which the key fit, she would know to use it. That’s always how it is in the fairy tales, she thought.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Edinburgh,” a pleasant woman’s voice came over the PA system, her calmness belying the shaking of the plane. “Please be sure your seatbelts are fastened securely and that all carry-on items are stored to prevent them from flying about.”

  The plane’s nose dipped noticeably and Walter wailed. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” he asked Jane, squeezing her hand.

  “We’re fine,” Jane said. “Just keep breathing.”

  Ten minutes later, as the plane taxied to the gate, Walter gratefully accepted the bottle of water Jane handed him and drank deeply. Outside the storm continued, and when a flash of lightning lit up the sky Walter gave a little shriek. Jane pulled the plastic window shield down so that he wouldn’t see any further bolts.

  “Have I mentioned how much I hate airplanes?” Walter asked.

  “And boats,” Jane said.

  “Trains are fine, though,” said Walter. “We can take as many trains as we have to. As long as they don’t go in the air or in the water.”

  Jane refrained from reminding him that they were now in Scotland, and that should they want to reach any of the remaining destinations on their tour they would have to once again board one or the other of his despised forms of transport. Instead, she helped him locate their carry-on bags and line up to disembark, a process that was slowed considerably by the fact that most of the plane’s occupants were trying very hard not to throw up.

  The requisite post-flight bathroom visits took a bit l
onger than usual. But eventually they all were gathered together again and Enid led them through baggage claim to a waiting bus. Perhaps because she was in her homeland, Enid seemed even more efficient than usual, and Jane watched from the bus window as bags were located and loaded into the hold with impressive quickness. The storm showed no sign of letting up, and in fact the rain fell more fiercely now. Walter, curled up in the seat beside Jane, had closed his eyes and was breathing evenly.

  To Jane’s surprise they were taken not to some quaint inn housed in a centuries-old building, but to a sleek, modern hotel in the city’s downtown. It was all glass and sparkle and sophistication, and although she was slightly disappointed that they weren’t staying somewhere more atmospheric, Jane had to admit that it was nice to stay in a place that didn’t smell quite so much of cabbage and Persil.

  Because the plane had arrived rather late, it was now past ten o’clock. Walter, his stomach still unsettled from the turbulent flight, was in no state to go out to dinner. Ben and Lucy were content to perhaps just order something from room service and go to bed, and when Miriam announced that she was going to take Lilith for a walk and then settle in with a book and a can of sugared almonds from the minibar, Jane was relieved. She told Walter that she would come back with something for him to eat, then rode the elevator down to the hotel’s restaurant level.

  She was pleased to discover that the restaurant served until eleven. After looking over the menu, she ordered a roast beef sandwich for herself and a chicken Caesar salad for Walter. Then she sat down at the bar to wait. The nightly news was showing on the television and she watched as the headlines scrolled by, pleased to see that apart from the occasional natural disaster and spot of political upheaval, the world was fairly peaceful.

  “May I join you?”

  She turned to see Orsino Castano standing beside her. He was dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt with the Rugby Viadana emblem on it.

  “I won’t be here long,” Jane said. “I’m just ordering food to take back to the room.”

  “I’m doing the same,” said Orsino. “It seems no one is in the mood for socializing tonight.”

  “I think the flight was a little rough for most of them,” Jane said.

  Orsino took a peanut from the bowl on the counter and popped it into his mouth. “Understandable,” he said. “Fortunately, I have never suffered from airsickness.”

  “Neither have I,” said Jane. “Although I admit that when I was on top of the keep at Swichninny Castle I had a moment when I felt a little dizzy while looking down.”

  There was an awkward silence as Jane realized what she’d said. “That probably sounds very cold of me,” she said.

  To her surprise, Orsino chuckled. “It sounds very truthful to me,” he said. “Hardly the thing one would say if one had thrown a man off that tower, am I right?”

  Jane smiled. “Yes,” she said. “You’re right.”

  “Besides, I do not think any of them seriously believe that you are responsible for McGuinness’s death.”

  “Now that I’m not so sure about,” Jane said. “I think Enid might have a few opinions on the matter that aren’t quite so favorable.”

  “Enid,” Orsino said, snorting. “What does she know? Please, the woman can’t even buy a pair of shoes that don’t look like orthopedic devices.”

  Jane giggled. “They really are awful,” she agreed. “I must say, I don’t see how she managed to attract not one, but two men.”

  Orsino ate another peanut. “She was not so unattractive when she was young,” he said. “I’ve seen pictures. Not that I’m saying she was a beauty, but she had a certain rough appeal. Also, I believe her talent was very attractive to Chumsley.”

  “What about McGuinness?” Jane said. “How do you explain that?”

  Orsino was quiet, watching the television as he ate some more peanuts. Jane thought perhaps he hadn’t heard her question, and was about to repeat it when Orsino spoke. “Ryan McGuinness was a man of opportunity,” he said. “And he did not care who offered the opportunity.”

  “You mean he was using Enid?” said Jane.

  “They were using each other,” Orsino said. “Ryan was using her for his career, and Enid was using him for, let us say, entertainment.”

  “A familiar story,” said Jane. “Although usually it’s the man bedding the beautiful girl who hopes he’ll make her a star.”

  “Enid is many things,” Orsino said. “Stupid is not one of them. Ryan too was many things. Honorable was not one of them.”

  “You didn’t like him much, did you?” said Jane.

  “On the contrary,” Orsino replied. “I loved him very much. When I found out he was leaving me for Enid, I could have killed them both.”

  Jane, surprised, wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “You and Ryan were lovers?” she said.

  Orsino nodded. “Briefly,” he said. “Less than a year. Then I found out about Enid. Even then I begged him to stay with me.” He waved his hand. “It’s all in the past.”

  “Does Enid know?” Jane asked him.

  Orsino shrugged. “Who knows? Ryan was very secretive. And an exquisite liar. He could make Satan himself believe that he was in love with him.”

  Jane hesitated before speaking again. “Enid didn’t seem all that distraught over Ryan’s death,” she said.

  Orsino shrugged. “I think things were mostly over between them,” he said. “There were rumors that he’d found someone else.”

  Suddenly Jane remembered something. “A man, or a woman?”

  “I don’t know,” said Orsino. “I didn’t care enough to find out.” He spoke brusquely, but Jane sensed a note of untruth in his voice.

  Before she could ask any additional questions, the waiter arrived with Orsino’s food. He accepted it and stood up.

  “Good night,” he said. “I hope you will excuse me, but there’s a game I would like to watch.”

  “Football?” Jane asked, knowing the Italians’ fondness for the game.

  “Rugby,” said Orsino, pointing at his shirt with his free hand. “I played at university. It was one time when being heavy and low to the ground was an advantage. Now I just watch.”

  Jane bid him good night. As he walked away, Jane imagined him on a rugby pitch. She knew a bit about the game, at least enough to know that a man built like Orsino would likely be very good at hitting his opponents. Or tossing them, she thought.

  Yes, it was entirely possible that Orsino, if so moved, could lift a man off his feet and throw him some distance. Over a wall, for example. True, Orsino had not been seen on top of the keep, but could he not have very quickly run down the stairs and pretended to have been on the ground all along?

  It was possible, but unlikely. Still, he had reason to want Ryan McGuinness dead. Their relationship might have been brief and ended years earlier, but revenge, as was so often said, was a dish best served cold. Perhaps Orsino had waited for the occasion. Or perhaps seeing Ryan with Enid had been too much to take. Although I think it would be harder on Chumsley, she thought.

  This brought her back to the question she’d been about to ask Orsino. Chumsley. The night she’d seen him coming out of Ryan’s compartment, she’d assumed that Chumsley was angry with McGuinness because of his relationship with Enid. But was it possible that something else was going on? Was it possible that Chumsley too had fallen for Ryan, and had been threatening to reveal their affair to Enid?

  The more she discovered about the members of the party, the more questions she had. So far there were at least four people who might have wanted Ryan dead. In fact, the only person she could think of who might have cared if he remained alive was McGuinness himself.

  “Here’s your dinner, miss,” said the waiter, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Thank you,” Jane said, taking the bag with the food in it. As she walked back to the elevator and rode it up to her floor, she reflected some more on her situation. Truthfully, the death of Ryan McGuinness was the least o
f her concerns. She was far more interested in finding Crispin’s Needle and in marrying Walter. But she could do nothing about either of those things at the moment, and so the mystery occupied her thoughts.

  She was passing the twenty-first floor and on her way to the twenty-second when the elevator suddenly came to a stop. No alarm went off, so she assumed there was nothing to worry about and that the elevator would begin working again in a moment. When it didn’t, she told herself not to panic. Instead she pressed the button for her floor again, even though it was still lit. When nothing happened, she pressed it again several more times, with the same result.

  “That’s not going to work,” came a voice from the speaker on the elevator’s panel. “So you might as well stop.”

  Jane stared at the speaker. “Who is this?” she asked. “Are you a custodian? Is there something wrong with the lift?”

  The voice laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with the lift,” it said. “I just want to have a word with you.”

  Jane couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female. This was disconcerting, but not as much as the fact that whoever the voice belonged to was able to stop the elevator at will.

  “Don’t worry,” the voice said. “I’m a friend.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me who you are?” Jane asked.

  “Because it’s not important,” said the voice. “I have just one thing to say, and not a lot of time.”

  “Which is?” Jane said.

  “The Needle is real. And it works.”

  “How do you know this?” said Jane, her heart beginning to race.

  A kind of static burst from the speaker, as if someone was trying to talk. The fuzzy words were indecipherable.

  “What?” Jane said, leaning down and putting her ear next to the speaker.

  “Find … key … choice.” The words were faint beneath the buzzing.

  “Find what?” Jane cried. “Where?”

  The speaker went silent. A moment later the elevator began rising. Then she was on the twenty-second floor and the doors opened, revealing two elderly women.

  “Thank heavens,” one of them said. “We thought it would never come.”