To the Rescue

by Jean Barrett

  She didn’t name it. She said hurriedly, “That’s all I can tell you. It isn’t worth anything, and that’s why an investigation is necessary.”

  They weren’t satisfied, of course. But Jennifer had had enough of their emotional fireworks and was relieved to get away from them when she and Leo finally managed an escape from the dining parlor.

  He was quiet on the way back to their quarters, both before and after a stop at the bathroom along the route. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t share it with her. But this time he didn’t part from her when they reached their doors, as he had done so abruptly that afternoon. He strode into her room ahead of her, sweeping his gaze rapidly from side to side.

  What was he doing? she wondered, shutting the door behind them. Making sure no menace was lurking in the shadows?

  Apparently satisfied, he rounded on her with a brusque “All right, let’s have it.”

  The man was a menace himself when he was like this with his brash, take-charge attitude. “Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?”

  “You remembered something about the killer there at the table.”

  “How could you know that?”

  “The way you hesitated, the look you had on your face. And if I could see it…”

  Jennifer must have had another look on her face now, one of pure anxiety, because Leo nodded impatiently.

  “Uh-huh, that’s right. The killer, assuming he is one of us, could have guessed you’d suddenly gone and realized something that gives him a reason to be a little worried about you.”

  “But I couldn’t have been that obvious.” All right, she tried to reassure herself, so Leo seemed to have this maddening talent for knowing what she was thinking. But that didn’t mean any of the others were anywhere near that perceptive. “And, anyway, what I realized amounts to nothing really. It couldn’t possibly reveal Brother Anthony’s killer.”

  “But he doesn’t know that. Okay, so maybe I’m the only one at the table who noticed anything. Maybe I’m exaggerating a threat here. So are you going to tell me?”

  “Yes, for what it’s worth. It was simply that Brother Anthony was very stoop-shouldered. I noticed that this morning when Brother Timothy pointed him out in the courtyard on our way to breakfast, although I forgot all about it until just now at dinner.”

  “And?”

  “The figure I saw later in the courtyard when I was on my way to find Brother Anthony had an erect posture.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “It’s the only thing I am sure about. Well, fairly sure, anyway. Remember, it was just a quick glimpse through all that snow, but that little bit did somehow register in the back of my mind. You see, it isn’t anything that matters. It could have been anybody. All it proves is that it wasn’t Brother Anthony in my line of sight.”

  “But if the killer thought it was more than that, then you’re a danger to him.”

  “Providing he was able to tell I’d remembered something.” Jennifer was still far from convinced any of the others at the table could possibly have realized that, even if Leo had. Not that she didn’t plan to be cautious from now on.

  “Yeah, providing…” His gaze looked beyond her in the direction of the hall door. She heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded like an obscenity.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Just remembering that our doors don’t have locks on them.”

  Oh, great. Now he was making her nervous. “You don’t think…”

  “What I think is we need to be careful. Put a chair over there against the door before you go to bed. It won’t keep anyone out who wants to get in, but it will make a noise if they try. And,” he added, nodding in the direction of the connecting door between their rooms, “you leave that door cracked. You hear anything, anything at all, then you holler and I’ll be here. Okay?”

  “If you say.”

  “I do say.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “You gonna be all right?”

  “I can take care of myself, you know. I’ve been doing just that ever since a mugger and I came to an understanding on the Boston Common that didn’t include his getting away with my purse.”

  “Sure. Better not just crack the door, though. Leave it open a good few inches. I’ll see you in the morning then.”

  He started for the connecting door, but Jennifer had no intention of letting him get away from her this time.

  “Whoa, detective.”

  He turned back, a dark eyebrow lifted in question. “Something?”

  “Plenty. You don’t walk out again until we’ve talked about what we found in those rooms this afternoon. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

  One of his big hands came up to stroke the pugnacious jaw on that chiseled face. “What’s to think. Like you said yourself, we didn’t find anything to tell us who killed Brother Anthony and why.”

  Or to connect his murder with Guy’s or the missing Warley Madonna, she thought. Which meant that, as far as what had happened back in London, she couldn’t be eliminated as a suspect. It was a depressing realization, one that she knew must still be lingering in Leo’s mind.

  “All the same,” she insisted, “we did turn up a few things that…well, if not downright suspicious, were at least puzzling. Like those letters in Harry Ireland’s suitcase.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I keep remembering how his girlfriend wrote about needing a lot of money and where was it to come from. Then I think about the Warley Madonna and what it’s worth.”

  “Right.”

  “And then there’s that photograph the Brashers have of Patrick and the argument we overheard outside the dining parlor and the connection the three of them have that they’re being secretive about. Why? Are they involved in some kind of conspiracy?”

  “Might be.”

  “And why would Patrick keep his door locked and have a knife hidden in his luggage? That’s a mystery right there.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “And we’ve got Geoffrey, who doesn’t seem to like Patrick. Maybe just because he resents having to babysit him, which I assume is why he has to take all of his meals with us, though I imagine he’s quartered with the brothers.”

  “Probably.”

  “Father Stephen said he can account for all of the brothers at the time of the murder. But, technically, Geoffrey isn’t a monk yet. I wonder where he was when Brother Anthony was killed. I suppose we ought to check with Father Stephen about that.”

  “Sure.”

  Jennifer stopped to catch her breath. She gazed at Leo in frustration. What was the matter with him? His responses to all of her speculations had amounted to little more than monosyllables. With a tone of disinterest at that.

  “Well?” she demanded.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t you think that these are all things that need explaining?”

  “I never said they didn’t. You got any idea how we go about getting those explanations?”

  “You’re the detective. Why don’t we just ask them?”

  “We could do that. Think they’d tell us the truth? There are reasons why people have secrets, Jenny. That’s why they’re called secrets and why they hang on to them.”

  “Then where do we go from here?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I intend to sleep on it. Always good for fresh inspiration. Don’t forget that chair.”

  Tossing her a careless salute, he turned and went into his room, leaving the connecting door several inches ajar.

  She hated that he had walked out on her again like that. As if he didn’t trust himself to be alone with her. Not that it wasn’t a wise action for both of them, of course, but still…

  All right, it was foolish of her to mind being left on her own when he was right next door, when he would be here in an instant if she called out to him. Just the same, she was very aware of actually missing him.

  And there was something else. A feeling of desperation because she wasn’t gett
ing the answers she needed. A sense that time was running out on her.

  HERE WE GO AGAIN.

  Like the night before, Jennifer found herself awake in the middle of the night with a need to relieve herself.

  Come on, it isn’t that bad. You can wait until daylight.

  Wrong. The longer she lay there, trying to will herself back to sleep, the more urgent that need became. In the end, realizing it wasn’t going to quit, she surrendered to the call.

  Leaving the cocoon of her warm covers was bad enough. But not as shocking as her bare feet meeting the icy floor when she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She quickly slid her feet into her slippers.

  Better, but she was still cold in her sleepshirt. And the cold wasn’t helping her bladder. Where was her robe? Right. In the wardrobe, just where it shouldn’t be.

  The door of the tall cupboard creaked softly when she crossed the room and opened it. Her gaze went immediately to the connecting door. No light flared in the gap. It remained dark and the room beyond silent. The only sound was the ceaseless lament of the wind over the moors.

  Grabbing her robe from a hook, she bundled into its thickness. Her attention was still fixed on the connecting door to Leo’s room as she tied the belt around her waist.

  There was no question of it. She would have to rouse him. After all his warnings, he would have a fit if she went off to the loo without him. Uh-huh, and she could also hear him complain about the necessity of the visit when, after all, they had stopped to use the bathroom on the way back to their rooms.

  Well, maybe not. Maybe he would be very understanding about it. But why bother him when she could look out for herself. How much risk could there be in a quick trip down the hall and back? If she was in any danger from the killer, and that was only a possibility, she couldn’t imagine him hanging around the corridors on the remote chance of catching her there. He’d have tried to get into her room by now.

  Jennifer crept to the hall door and removed the chair that was blocking it. As careful as she was, the legs scraped a bit on the floor when she drew it back. She paused to listen. Nothing stirred from the direction of Leo’s room.

  Satisfied, she eased the door back just far enough to squeeze through the opening. And almost collided with the tall figure waiting for her out in the corridor.

  “And just where do you think you’re going?”

  Jennifer swallowed a startled yelp and glared at him. Damn. All her cautious maneuvers had been for nothing.

  “To the bathroom, and I don’t need you to—”

  “Oh, yes, you do. Or have you forgotten there’s a killer loose in the castle?”

  “How did you know I—”

  “I would have had to be comatose not to hear you moving around in there.”

  “So, instead of just knocking on the connecting door, you go and ambush me out here in the hall.”

  “Didn’t want to listen to some song and dance about you not being able to sleep, and why didn’t I just go back to bed. Okay?”

  No, it wasn’t okay. He had not only scared her, he was now assaulting her senses. The sight of him in those pajama bottoms was devastating. Unlike last night, he’d had the sense to dig his feet into a pair of loafers and to shrug into his coat. But the leather coat gaped open, revealing the sleek muscles of his naked chest. That, plus sleep-tousled hair and a stubble on his jaw, contributed to his tantalizing image.

  The sexual tension that had been smoldering between them since their first encounter was not just as strong as ever, it had shot to a new level. The problem was it was accompanied by her need for the bathroom, which had also reached a new level. One that was just short of an emergency.

  “Uh, can we please not stand around arguing about this? I kind of have another priority here.”

  “In that case, you won’t mind if I—”

  “Fine, you can play bodyguard. Let’s just move.”

  The trip down the dimly lighted passage and around a corner into another corridor where the bathroom was located had never seemed so long to Jennifer. Nor her relief greater when, reaching their destination, she dashed inside, leaving Leo on guard out in the passage.

  “Thank you,” she said, feeling more benevolent toward him when she emerged a few moments later from the facility, her desperation remedied.

  He stood away from the wall against which he had been leaning, eyeing the antique plumbing behind her. “Might as well take advantage of it while I’m here.”

  Jennifer stood aside. “Be my guest.”

  “You gonna be okay while I—”

  “I will wait right here,” she promised him with an exagger ated emphasis on every word. “I will not move. I will keep a careful watch. Go.”

  He went, closing the door behind him.

  Left alone, she thought longingly about the warmth of her bed. It was cold out here, with currents of glacial air stirring along the passage. As quiet as it was frigid. Here in the heart of the castle, a series of thick stone walls silenced the storm outside.

  It was also far too gloomy for comfort. Blame the power outage for that. As she’d been told last night, the castle’s generator permitted a minimum of lamps, and then only at essential intervals. The corridors were like sinister tunnels without the aid of daylight.

  All right, so she was glad about Leo’s presence on the other side of this door, though she would never have admitted it to him.

  Obeying her promise to keep vigilant, she looked to the left down the long corridor that stretched away into the darkness. Nothing moved. Nor was there anything but the stillness when she turned her gaze to the right in the direction they had come.

  Silly to be nervous like this, checking the shadows for bogeymen when—

  Something registered in her peripheral vision. Swinging her attention to the left again, Jennifer saw it emerging from the blackness at the far end of the passage. The same pale, robed figure she had sighted last night!

  It drifted to a halt and stood there, swaying slightly like a reed in a gentle breeze. She could swear it pulsed with a faint glow. But the nimbus had to be an illusion, a trick of the light. Didn’t it?

  She was dragging in a mouthful of air, making an effort to steady herself, when the bathroom door opened and Leo reappeared. The expression she was wearing as she turned to face him must have been all too evident.

  “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a—”

  “Don’t say it,” she said in an anxious whisper, “because I think I have seen one. I think I’m still seeing it!”

  Her gaze swiveled in the direction of the distant apparition. Leo followed it with a scowl on his face.

  “Jenny, it’s only one of the monks.”

  “I know that. I just don’t think this one is alive.”

  “Come on, you can’t believe in ghosts.”

  “Logic says I don’t. My eyes tell me something else. Look at him. He’s floating!”

  Leo scoffed at her assertion. “He’s not floating. He’s simply standing there.”

  “What for? And if he’s not a ghost, then what’s he doing wandering around the castle in the middle of the night?”

  “Maybe for the same reason you’re out here.” Leo lifted his voice, hailing the figure. “Yo, friar, if you’re waiting for a turn in the loo, it’s free now.”

  There was no response, no indication that whatever it was was even capable of hearing a human shout. The form wavered for a few seconds more, turned slowly and glided away, melting into the wall.

  “What did I tell you? People don’t walk through walls. Ghosts do. He has to be a ghost.”

  “And I’m Prince Charming. Come on, Snow White, we’re going after your ghost. I want to see what he’s haunting and why.”

  Before she could object, Leo grabbed her by the hand and rushed her along the corridor. They reached the spot where the wraith had vanished. And found, not a solid wall, but a narrow archway into a cross passage.

  “So much for his disappearing act,” Leo
said.

  “All right, but then where is he?” she asked, peering down the cross passage. “There’s no one in sight.”

  “Doors, Jenny. People use them to go places. And that one down there at the end is still stirring on its hinges.”

  She found herself being hurried in the direction of the cracked door. And without a defense when the door, once fully opened, disclosed a flight of stairs winding down through the gloom. How could she go on arguing in favor of a ghost now that she could hear the sound of sandals on flesh-and-blood feet slapping softly on the stone treads somewhere below them?

  The stairway carried them to the ground floor and into a broad gallery that stretched away on both sides. Jennifer realized she had been here before but by another route, one somewhere off to the right where the offices and chapel were located. And in the other direction…

  “There’s your spook,” Leo said, indicating the robed figure moving away from them on the left. “The one you were making such a mystery about this morning with Brother Timothy.”

  The light was a little better here. Strong enough to tell her that the monk was no specter, even if he was behaving like one. The light-colored robe, the pale complexion, the fair hair…they had all contributed to the illusion.

  Leo was going to gloat about this, wasn’t he? She just knew he—

  It struck her then. Pale complexion. Fair hair. No tonsure.

  “Leo, it’s Geoffrey!”

  “Yeah.” He had also recognized the young novice.

  “But why doesn’t he know we’re here? It’s like we don’t exist for him.”

  “I don’t think we do.”

  Was that supposed to make sense? Before she had a chance to figure it out, Leo was urging her forward again in pursuit of the novice.

  “I don’t want to lose him. He’s after something, and I mean to know what it is.”

  Closed doors flew past them as they raced along the gallery. Behind one of them Jennifer heard the low throbbing of machinery at work.

  “Think it must be the generator in there,” Leo said before she could ask him.

  Geoffrey was no longer in sight.

  “He’s turned a corner up there,” she said.

  They headed toward the corner. But before they could overtake the novice, the gallery was plunged into a sudden blackness. And a silence that was absolute.