A Real Pickle

by Jessica Beck

  “I’m not thrilled about splitting up from the very start,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “Moose, we’re going to be asking someone who is probably a killer if he murdered our friend.”

  “Not that openly, I hope,” my grandfather said.

  “Of course not, but it doesn’t mean that the murderer isn’t dangerous. Someone killed our friend, and he’s asked us to find out who did it.”

  “We will, Victoria, but I’m not sure how much good it’s going to do us to try to plan this. We’re going to have to just play it by ear.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said.

  “Come on. It’s always worked out in the past,” he said with the hint of a smile.

  I just wished that I could share it. “All it takes is one bad experience to ruin it all though, isn’t that right?”

  “You worry too much,” Moose said as he looked out the limo window like a little kid.

  “Funny, but I think I worry exactly the right amount.”

  “This is an adventure. Let’s not forget that,” he said.

  “It’s a job. Let’s not forget that,” I answered.

  He turned to me from the window. “You’re right. I just don’t get enough chances to ride in limousines these days.”

  As we drove on, I couldn’t help wondering who on Curtis’s list had the nerve to come into my diner and kill him right under my nose. I had the feeling that my grandfather was whistling past the graveyard. I knew better than to be fooled by his eager demeanor. We’d both been too close to murderers in the past, so we knew what we were getting ourselves into.

  At least I hoped we did.

  It would be nice having an ally in Jeffrey close by, but I knew that when it came right down to it, Moose and I wouldn’t be able to depend on anyone but each other. That was fine with me, though. I knew my grandfather to be a good man when things got dicey, and he knew that he could count on me as well. Since we’d started digging into murder cases that touched our lives, our relationship had changed from family to colleagues. We each had our own strengths that complemented each other, and there was no one else I’d rather be embarking on this quest with but him.

  I just hoped that we found Curtis’s killer in the time we had allotted to us.

  Chapter 4

  “Why are we stopping?” I asked Jeffrey half an hour later.

  “We’re here. Welcome to the Pickle Palace,” he said as he paused before driving down the long gravel driveway. The mansion was enormous, and it reminded me more of a European castle than it did a personal residence. There was even a turret on the right edge of the place. The exterior was stone, weathered to a gray patina over the years, and I could see two dozen windows as I looked at the place. The grounds were well kept, which didn’t surprise me at all. I couldn’t imagine how much money it took to keep this place up, but I had a feeling one month’s bill would be more than my total net worth.

  “Do you really call it that?” Moose asked as he looked out the window toward the mansion.

  “No, its official name is Trane Manor. Pickle Palace is just something the staff calls it. Curtis liked the name himself, but no one else in the family does. He thought that it was a healthy reminder to them all that their fortune was built on pickles. That’s why he enjoyed leaving those little plastic pickles everywhere he went.”

  “So, are we dealing with a bunch of snobs?” I asked.

  “On the whole, I’d have to say yes,” Jeffrey said. “Are you ready for the grand inquisition?”

  “I don’t think we’ll be that pushy,” I said.

  “I meant what you are about to get from them. While no one can dispute Curtis’s orders to open his home to you, they’re all going to want to know more details about your lives than you’re probably willing to share. Would you like some free advice worth exactly what it costs?”

  “Always,” I said.

  “If you hear a question that you don’t want to answer, just ignore it.”

  “I do that anyway,” Moose said with a smile.

  “It’s not easy for everybody to do it, but in general, it’s a sound policy. If you think of every conversation that you’re about to have as a newspaper interview with someone who doesn’t believe any comment is off the record, then you’ll probably be fine.”

  I had to laugh. “You paint a rather unflattering picture of them, Jeffrey.”

  The chauffeur pulled out and started down the long drive. “Just wait. You’ll see how right I am.”

  “How do they feel about you?” I asked.

  Jeffrey laughed. “They are mystified as to why a lowly chauffeur has been named executor for Curtis’s estate. I’ve already gotten three bribe attempts to defer the job to one of them.”

  “Care to share which three offered?” Moose asked.

  “If it’s all the same to you, I won’t. I wouldn’t want to see your investigation tainted by any outside sources.”

  “Fair enough,” Moose said.

  As we got out of the limo, Moose headed straight for the trunk. “No nonsense from you, Jeffrey. I’ll get our bags.”

  “It’s just my job to deliver you here. You’ll have to deal with one of the servants about your bags now.”

  “How many people work here?” I asked as I looked up at the stone columns in front. They were massive, and I wondered how long it must have taken to build the place.

  “At last count, there were fourteen,” he said, “but that’s low. When everyone is in residence, we’ve had twice that in the past before Curtis got sick.”

  I couldn’t imagine. “Do they all live on-site?”

  “They used to, but the only ones here now around the clock are Cassidy, the chef; Humphries, the butler, and me. It’s a skeleton crew, but that’s the way Curtis wanted it.”

  The massive front door opened and a dapper older man in a suit walked out to greet us. I was wondering which relative it was when he said, “I’m Humphries. Welcome. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

  “Should I get our bags?” Moose asked.

  “Stevens will take care of them,” Humphries said dismissively. He glanced at Jeffrey, but that was all the acknowledgment that the chauffeur got from the butler. I supposed that being a driver meant that he wasn’t worthy of anything more. It felt as though my grandfather and I had just stepped into a Victorian novel. I wasn’t at all certain that I’d be able to keep my mouth shut, but then I reminded myself that Moose and I were there for a job, not a party.

  “That will be fine,” I said as I grabbed Moose’s arm and winked at Jeffrey at the same time.

  “I’ll be around if you need me,” Jeffrey said.

  “Good,” Moose said. “Don’t wander off too far.”

  “I won’t,” he said.

  An older man came out and grabbed the bags, and I worried that he might topple over carrying both of them, though neither Moose nor I had packed all that much. He made it past us with the bags, and Jeffrey closed the trunk before he got in and drove off.

  “If you’ll both come this way,” Humphries said, so we did.

  The grand hall was something to see, with dark wood everywhere, broken up only by the paintings, tapestries, fancy rugs, and a frescoed ceiling that was a good twenty feet in the air. It would have made a great basketball court, and I had to wonder what else was in store for us.

  As we followed Humphries up the wide staircase to the second floor, I whispered to Moose, “What do you think?”

  “I’ve seen better,” he said with a smile.

  “Where? At the Biltmore House?” It was a mansion in Asheville built by the Vanderbilts, and Moose and Martha had taken me there for Christmas one year when I’d been a little girl. There were dozens of decorated trees spread throughout the largest private residence in the United States, and I could still remember the splendor of those furnishings. This wasn’t on a par with that, but it wasn’t all that far behind, either.

  At the top of the stairs w
e made a left, and a little down the hallway, Humphries showed us two rooms side by side. “Mr. Nelson, you’re here. Ms. Nelson, you’re in the next suite.”

  “I’m Moose, and this is Victoria,” Moose said with a smile as he offered his hand.

  Humphries didn’t take it, and I had to suppress a grin of my own. If the butler was going to try to outwait my grandfather, he’d better make himself comfortable. After thirty seconds, Humphries looked around surreptitiously, and then he took Moose’s hand. “I’m Martin,” he said.

  “Good to meet you, Martin.”

  “Sir, you understand that certain things are expected of me,” Humphries said.

  “I understand, but you also need to know that I’m uncomfortable with anyone waiting on me, and I won’t tolerate a deferential attitude.”

  “In front of the family, I behave as I’ve been trained to.”

  “Fair enough, Martin. But when it’s just the three of us, I expect you to treat me as an equal.”

  “I can only do what I can do,” Humphries said. I just couldn’t bring myself to call him Martin, though Moose didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

  “Can I call you Marty?” my grandfather asked.

  “You may, but don’t expect me to answer,” the butler said with a smile.

  “Got it. Martin, what’s the story here?”

  “I am not at liberty to discuss my employers, or anything that occurs at Trane Manor.” It was clear that Moose had overstepped his bounds.

  “I understand, and I won’t ask again. Thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome.” Humphries showed Moose to his room, and then we went next door to mine. As we did, I said, “I hope you can forgive my grandfather. He doesn’t recognize other people’s boundaries, nor does the filter between his mouth and his brain always work.”

  “It’s fine,” Humphries said. As he opened the door to my room, I was amazed by how opulent it was. A large four-poster bed was the main focus of the room if you discounted the fireplace, loaded with wood and ready to be lit. There was a thick rug on the stone floor, and a comfortable sitting chair perched beside the broad window that looked over the grounds. “Is there an en suite?” I asked.

  “Let me show you,” Humphries said as he walked to one of the walls and pressed the center of a wooden panel. The door popped open and revealed a lovely guest bath. “Lark Trane, the founder of the Trane family, loved secret passageways and hidden doorways. This place is riddled with them.”

  “It must have been a fun place for Curtis to grow up in,” I said.

  “Actually, Mr. Trane was an unusually serious young man as a youth,” Humphries said. I couldn’t tell if he approved of his late boss or not.

  “Well, I can testify that he turned out to be a warm and welcoming man in the end,” I said. “I’m proud to have called him my friend.”

  “You were lucky to be able to,” Humphries said softly. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”

  I’d never been dismissed by a butler before, but hey, there was a first time for everything.

  After Humphries was gone, I walked out into the hallway and over to Moose’s door. When I tapped lightly on it, he opened it with a smile, and I could see the kid’s grin on his face. “Did you ask him about the bathroom?”

  “Is yours hidden behind a secret panel, too?” I asked with a grin.

  “It’s all pretty amazing,” Moose said. “I wonder how much this place is worth?”

  “Thinking of making an offer?” I asked him, grinning.

  “The foyer alone is too rich for my blood,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m a little hungry. What say we sneak downstairs and see if we can find the kitchen?”

  “Shouldn’t we ring for Humphries or something?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for this place, but I had a hunch that us wandering around the kitchen and servants’ quarters wasn’t on the list of things we were allowed to do.

  “My, you’ve become pretty comfortable with calling them servants, haven’t you?”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” I said.

  “Take it easy. I was just teasing. Victoria, their rules don’t apply to us here. Think about the freedom we have. Curtis gave us the run of the place. We don’t have to ask anyone’s permission or forgiveness. We’re here to find his killer, and if that means ignoring the status quo, then so be it.”

  “You’re right,” I said with the hint of a laugh. To my surprise, I found that I’d actually been whispering. “I know this isn’t a church, or even a library, so why am I acting like it is?”

  “It can be overwhelming if you’re not used to it,” Moose admitted.

  “You don’t seem to be affected by any of this,” I said.

  “That’s because I’ve had a great many more years than you have had to learn to laugh at other people’s rules. Now let’s grab a snack and see if we can do a little investigating while we’re at it.”

  “Lead the way, and I’ll follow,” I said.

  As Moose and I made our way back down the grand staircase, I realized that my grandfather was right. I had to treat this as though it were a regular murder investigation and not some kind of play. Chances were good that someone at the manor had stabbed Curtis right in front of me, robbing him of the last days of his life that he’d been clinging so desperately to. I was glad Moose was with me, for more reasons than I could count.

  This was for our friend, and if we ended up upsetting everyone at the Pickle Palace, then so be it. As long as we uncovered Curtis’s murderer, I’d be happy with the end results.

  Moose was right about something else, too.

  I could use a bite to eat myself.

  There was some chatter going on in the kitchen when Moose and I finally found it. We should have been issued maps when we got to the house, and honestly, if we hadn’t followed our noses, I doubt that we would have found the kitchen at all. The chatting stopped abruptly as the staff noticed us, and it was an uncomfortable silence until Moose asked, “Is there any chance we could get a bite to eat?”

  The chef stepped forward. “Dinner will be served promptly at eight.”

  I glanced at my watch and saw that we had ninety minutes until then. “Is there any way that we could get something to tide us over until then?” I asked.

  The chef looked uneasy about how to answer my request. Moose suggested, “We’ll take some cheese and crackers if that’s all you’ve got, but seriously, it’s not that big a deal.”

  I didn’t know if someone called Humphries, or perhaps there was a secret way to summon the butler, but he hurried into the kitchen before anyone could respond to Moose’s request. “If you’ll join me outside in the hallway, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

  I could see that Moose was about to protest, but I didn’t want to get any of these people in trouble. “Come on, Moose.”

  “Victoria, you know how I get when I’m hungry. I’m liable to snap at anyone in sight.”

  I knew that it was true enough.

  Once we were out of the kitchen, I asked, “Humphries, what are the chances we can get something light to snack on?”

  “You can have whatever you’d like,” the man said. “I need you to go through me, though. We have a specific regimen here, and it would make all of our lives easier if you’d adhere to it.”

  “Fine,” Moose said. “I know when I’m beaten. I’ll have a cheese sandwich and a glass of milk.”

  “What would you like on your sandwich?”

  “Cheese and bread,” Moose said, and then my grandfather looked at me and asked, “How about you, Victoria?”

  “That sounds good to me,” I said.

  “Very well. If you’ll wait in the dining hall, I’ll see that you’re served immediately.”

  “I’d be happy to,” Moose said with a hint of exasperation in his voice. “If I only knew where exactly it was, or anywhere else in this forsaken place.”

  We really did need to get some
food into him. “Don’t worry about us. We can find it,” I said. “You take care of the food.”

  Humphries nodded, and then he pointed to the right. “Keep going ten feet, and then take a right. You can’t miss it.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” I added with a smile. “We’ve gotten lost before.”

  “You get used to it after awhile,” the chief butler said.

  “I don’t think we’ll have enough of an opportunity to do that,” I said. “After all, we’ll be gone again in three days.”

  “True. I’ll rejoin you shortly,” Humphries said.

  Moose started walking, following the directions we’d just gotten, and sure enough, we took the suggested turn and entered the grand dining hall. There were chairs enough for forty diners, and I wondered how often the table was filled with guests since Curtis had taken over. As it was, Moose took a seat at the head of the large, dark oak table, and I grabbed a seat beside him. Place settings had already been set, and I wondered if Moose and I were about to eat cheese sandwiches on the finest china I’d ever seen in my life. A pretty young brunette came a minute later and cleared our settings away, replacing them with less ornate dishes and silverware. It wasn’t that the new things weren’t fancy; they just weren’t as elegant as what had been there before.

  Soon enough, our sandwiches and glasses of milk appeared in another minute, and Moose and I shared a bite together in the silence of the large dining room. I was going to have a hard time breaking myself of whispering in the manor. There was just something about the cavernous rooms that suggested I should constantly be aware of the volume of my voice.

  “Pretty fancy,” I said as I took a bite of my sandwich.

  “I don’t know. I’ve had better.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the food. These settings are ritzy.”

  Moose shrugged. “I don’t care if they brought our sandwiches wrapped up in paper towels.” He took another big bite and then chased it with a large gulp of milk. “At least the milk’s cold.”