‘I –’ Ondine made a start, but she couldn’t finish.
‘She has the gift of sight, Your Grace,’ Col said. ‘She will prove very useful.’
‘Really, now?’ Pavla’s eyes widened.
Not really, she wanted to say, but Col had dropped her in it and the Duke was interested. If the Duke wanted to believe in it, then why not? What some people called psychic powers, others called ‘cold reading’ or ‘being really observant’.25 If he thought she could be useful, she’d get to stay.
‘Aw, yeas, she’s brilliant at it,’ Shambles added, climbing back on to Col’s shoulder.
The Duchess moved to stand beside her husband, placing her hand on his arm. Her knuckles turned pinky white as she squeezed him that little bit too much. Ondine thought Kerala wanted to say something, but she kept silent.
‘How very useful,’ Pavla said. In the next breath he summoned Pyotr back into his study to show him the mess. Pyotr nodded and ushered them into the anteroom while he cleaned it up.
The Duchess murmured in Pavla’s ear. Despite her low voice, Ondine heard everything she said: ‘Are you sure about this? They turn up in a storm, then it rains fish and now you have a toxic letter. It’s too much of a coincidence.’
Old Col coughed into her closed hand. ‘Please forgive my rudeness, Your Grace, but I am inclined to agree with the Duchess. This really should be a matter –’
‘For the police? Of course it is. I will put Brugel’s finest on the case. They are continuing the investigation of the attempt on my life at the railway station. But from all accounts the scallions under arrest are taking the blame upon themselves and refusing to implicate anyone further. They will, in time. Given the right motivation, everybody talks.’
A disconcerting look crossed his face. He dropped his voice low. ‘Here, among family, friends and staff, I need something . . . less overt. Men and women in uniform won’t loosen tongues. If anything, it would make the schemers behave impeccably and everyone else miserable. I need whoever is out to get me to feel as if the authorities’ attentions are otherwise . . . diverted. Are we on the same page? Good. The three of you will gather information on everyone at the palechia and report back anything you see, hear or suspect.’
‘We’ll get started right away, so we will,’ Shambles said.
With a pang of longing, Ondine looked at Shambles. As a ferret, he could slip into rooms and listen to conversations without anyone noticing. He’d be the perfect spy.
‘Do you have a list of suspects?’ Old Col asked.
‘Hand over the phone book,’ Shambles said.
Ondine clamped down a grin. This was not the time for jokes.
To their credit, the Duke and Duchess ignored the quip. Pavla said, ‘A couple come to mind. Lord Vincent is all too eager to assume the reins of power. Or should that be reigns?’
Crickets chirped in Ondine’s head, because the Duke’s pun only worked in print form.
Pyotr walked past them with a trolley full of boxes and lumpy plastic bags. Evidence, Ondine guessed, as Pyotr nodded to them that his work was done.
‘No matter,’ the Duke said as he ushered them back into his study. ‘My son and heir has learnt his lesson. His supporters, on the other hand, could well be plotting my downfall. Another I suspect is my eldest sister, Anathea.’
‘The Infanta?’ Old Col asked.
The Duchess coughed as she sipped her wine.
Looking about the study, Ondine could see no trace of their recent drama. Only a notebook lay on the table to conceal the burn in the wood. She gave a mental shudder.
Duke Pavla continued: ‘All this would have been hers, you see. But fate intervened and I was born. She begrudges me the right that is mine by birth. Words are her poison of choice. Makes mischief. Most right-thinking people take anything she says with a slice of lemon.’26
The Duchess made a moue with her mouth and wrinkled her nose at the mention of her sister-in-law.
‘Miss Romano, you and Shambles shall attend dinner tonight, ostensibly as my guest, but privately I want you to be on the alert for signs of discontent. Ondine, you will be needed in the laundry.’
Oh, thanks, I get sent to work and Col gets a free meal, Ondine thought.
‘Yes, Your Grace,’ Col said.
‘The entire family is in residence. It should provide ample opportunity to observe the various personalities at play.’
After they were ushered out, Ondine checked to make sure nobody could overhear them before she spoke. ‘I can’t believe he’s making the three of us responsible for his safety! He should bring in the experts.’
‘Thank you for your vote of confidence,’ Old Col said.
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘Of course not. What you really mean is you’re only fifteen and you have the burden of a nation on your shoulders.’
An invisible weight descended on Ondine as she let the truth of Col’s statement settle. ‘How much does he really expect us to do? We’re not trained detectives.’ What we are is a scared girl, a ferret and an old witch, she thought.
‘Ah, my dear, that is why we shall be so effective. I am the batty old lady with a pet on her shoulder, and you are an innocent girl. Nobody will suspect a thing.’
‘Right.’ Ondine mulled it over. ‘You’re being quiet, Shambles.’
‘Aye, I was thinking about Pyotr. Nothing seems to faze him.’
‘Hmmmm,’ Ondine said.
Col gave a most disarming smile. ‘You’re thinking like detectives already. Nobody should be above suspicion.’
‘In that case, Vincent is still at the top of my list,’ Ondine said. ‘Mercury’s wings, I’ve just realised something. Pavla said Vincent had learnt his lesson, past tense. Does that mean he’s not at the academy any more?’
‘Oh dear,’ Hamish said.
‘Oh double dear,’ Col said. ‘He won’t be happy that we’re here either. We’ll have to try our best not to antagonise him. Right, Ondine, you should get back to the laundry. Shambles, we need to dress for dinner.’
Shambles leant over and gave Ondine a whiskery wet smudge on the cheek, but it didn’t comfort her at all. If anything, it made her wonder when she’d next see him as proper Hamish again.
23 This kind of thinking began after the Soviet days, during the time of new freedoms and transparency, when ‘everything not expressly forbidden is permitted’. A marked change from the gruelling days of ‘anything not expressly permitted is forbidden’.
24 Jacques Delille, 1738–1813. He had loads of friends in high places, but his own father refused to acknowledge him.
25 Or watching every episode of ‘Lie to Me’ and applying it to your real life.
26 With a slice of lemon is how Bruglers traditionally take their tea. In some cultures the expression is ‘with a pinch of salt’. This makes no sense at all because tea with salt tastes awful!
Chapter Seven
Hamish wanted to be human all the time, but he knew the only way to make progress in their hunt for suspects was to remain a ferret and allow people to call him Shambles. He’d much rather be with Ondine in the laundry, but that wasn’t an option. He’d also love to be able to talk more, but he exercised extreme control and stayed mute as Pyotr announced Old Col’s arrival at dinner.
‘Your Grace, honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen, I present Miss Colette Romano.’
Perched on Col’s shoulder and blinking away tears from her strong perfume, Shambles was able to check out the room from human eye-level. Over to one side he noticed two small boys. They were well dressed for their age, wearing cut-down suits like mini-gentlemen. The boys exchanged sly looks and Shambles instinctively knew they were up to no good.
A waitress offered drinks to some adults near them. One of the boys stuck out his foot and tripped her up. She yelped in surprise, her face filled with horror. Then the most bizarre thing happened. Pyotr, who was standing close by, turned around at exactly the right moment, put his hands out and caught the falling tray.
Some of the drink sloshed out, but the glasses didn’t fall.
Everyone around them looked momentarily stunned. Pyotr kept his composure and handed the tray back to the grateful waitress. She then carried on serving guests as if nothing had happened, but Shambles could tell by her rapid breaths that she hadn’t fully recovered.
No sign of the Duke, which was odd – he’d invited them, so surely he’d be here by now? The Duchess, holding a glass of red wine, approached Col. Suddenly the world dropped from beneath Shambles, and he hung on for dear life.
What the?
Old Col was curtseying! After her graceful bob, things righted themselves and he was back to eye-level again.
‘My Lady Duchess, it is an honour,’ Col said.
The Duchess enunciated her words far too carefully as she said, ‘You. Are. Too. Kind.’
Duchess Kerala wore her dark hair in a neat helmet shape. Light bounced off her hair, it was that shiny. The hand holding the glass of wine looked soft and fleshy, as if she’d never performed a manual task in her life.
The waitress appeared and asked the Duchess, ‘Your Grace, may I offer your guest an aperitif?’27
‘Thank you, but soda water is fine,’ Old Col said.
Surprise jolted Shambles. He felt sure Col would help herself to the best of whatever was on offer. The twig snapped – Col wanted to keep a clear head.
The two young boys who had tripped up the waitress were now eyeing Shambles with undisguised glee. Thank goodness he was out of their reach. Oh great! Old Col decided to walk towards them. In the time it took the thought I’m still safe up here to travel from one side of his ferret-sized brain to the other, Col had bent down to the boys’ level.
‘Hello, there,’ Col said, ‘this is my pet ferret, Shambles. He’s very friendly. Would you like to pat him?’
Wrong on so many counts, but if he uttered a word to them it would blow his cover. He turned his head towards Col’s ear and murmured, ‘If they pull my tail, I’m out of here.’
‘He’s funny looking,’ one of the boys said.
One of the little snipes pulled his tail, while the other clonked him on the head with a forceful pat. The impact was so great his teeth crashed together.
From across the room, Duchess Kerala said, ‘Boysh, be gentle.’ She didn’t take a step closer to intervene; instead another woman stepped in and calmly directed the boys away. Shambles rummaged around in his brain: had the Duchess slurred her words? When she spoke again, he was sure of it.
‘Thank you, nanny. The boysh can have their dinnersh now,’ the Duchess said.
Looking at the boys, Shambles could see them growing into little Lord Vincents, attitude and all. He made a mental note to keep clear of every one of the Duke’s offspring, even if he was supposed to be a docile ‘pet’. He scanned the room, but saw no sign of Vincent. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. If he were here, he could keep an eye on him, but Vincent knew he was a ferret who could turn into a man, and might blow his cover.
At the other end of the room, the double doors opened. A woman wearing a starched white apron over black trousers and a black shirt nodded to the Duchess. The Duchess handed her empty wine glass to the nearest member of staff and announced to the room, ‘Dinner is sherved.’
Shambles licked his chops. Wonderful aromas of caramelised onions, roast meat and crispy potatoes wafted in.
The dining room looked decidedly blue. Blue walls, and in the middle of the room, a long table with a blue-and-white tablecloth. A swift team of waiters, all dressed in black with starched white aprons, placed several bowls of salad at intervals along the table. The bowls were filled only with green leaves, thin slices of spring onion, shavings of Parmesan cheese and white beans.
Shambles saw the table was set for eighteen. A quick headcount told him there were a couple of spare seats. Hope sprang as he wondered if he might get fed. He’d be extra nice to Col. She’d give him some food. He might even charm some of the guests into feeding him as well. With so many people, and such large silver domes over all the plates, surely there would be plenty of leftovers?
Duke Pavla entered from another set of doors. Everyone bowed their heads as he walked in. He stepped towards Kerala and kissed her tenderly on the cheek. A lump formed in Shambles’s throat. They made such a lovely couple. He hoped he and Ondine would still be as affectionate when they were that old.
They stood waiting for the Duke to be seated. To Shambles’s surprise, the Duke did not sit at the head of the table. Instead, he chose the centre of one of the long sides, opposite the Duchess. The seat beside the Duchess was empty, and Shambles wondered who would sit there, if not the Duke?
‘Good evening. As of now, fish will no longer be on the menu. Be seated.’
As soon as the Duke sat down, everyone else followed. The waiters lifted the domes off the plates to reveal the banquet beneath.
Shambles’s stomach did a double take. What tiny amounts of food!
Even for a man the size of a ferret it was a measly serving. Half a boiled egg, sliced. Two slivers of roast chicken, so thin you could see through them. A tiny clump of fried onions. Sautéed courgettes and more of those white beans. Oh yes, and three thin scallops of potato. All arranged in the middle of a large white plate with a thick band of blue around the edge.
‘This better be the entrée,’ he murmured to Col as his stomach grumbled.
Old Col coughed, then lifted him off her shoulder and placed him on her lap. It got him out of sight, so he could slip under the table, unnoticed, and report back on anything he overheard.
Despite the small portions, Old Col came through for him and let a chunk of egg fall from her fork. With a leap he met the food mid-flight and swallowed it before he landed.
Somewhat recharged, he set to work, ears on alert. Avoiding people’s feet became his main priority. Above the table, the dinner guests looked composed and serene, but underneath there was a fair amount of fidgeting and fenudging28 going on.
Heading for the end of the table, Shambles saw a pair of legs crossing nervously back and forth at the ankles. He strained his ears to snapping point.
‘Murmur, murmur, food, murmur, right, murmur, murmur, tennis.’
Not much help there, so Shambles decided to walk behind the twitching feet and sit directly under the speaker’s chair.
‘Murmur, murmur, rule out murmur the food,’ one male voice said. ‘Murmur, never enough of it.’
A person sitting beside him gave a low chuckle. ‘Murmur, murmur, Infanta.’
It sounded promising. Shambles listened some more and heard someone whisper, ‘running out of time’ and ‘need to move soon’ but nothing that made a cohesive whole. A staccato march announced the return of the waiters, who removed the empty plates. He strained to hear more conversation but the sound of feet drowned it out.
Moving about under the table, he searched and listened for more interesting conversations. Someone arrived late and took the remaining empty seat. He recognised the smarmy voice say, ‘Good evening, Mother,’ and heard him kiss her on the cheek.
Vincent! Shambles scurried back over the parquet to get away from Vincent’s heavy boots. The last thing he needed was to get too close. All the same his ears stayed on high alert as he heard the Duchess mutter to her son, ‘One day, all this will be yours.’
Really now? That was interesting!
Without warning, pain seared Shambles’s insides. Panic shot through him. He silently cried out for Ondine to take away his agony. In his mind, he fixed an image of her sweet face to help him focus. How had this come on so quickly? His black furry arms buckled and bleached and turned into skin. His legs grew and grew. Just in time he pulled himself away from someone’s twitching foot. Any moment now, Vincent might drop a fork or a napkin, reach down to get it and see him lying on the floor, bare as the day he was born.
He kept thinking of Ondine. When he angled his head so he could see through the forest of legs, he thought he’d died and gone to
heaven. There she was, standing by the door with a tray of steaming hot hand towels. Her proximity must be why he’d changed. Slapping his forehead, he felt like a silly wee daftie! He could be a ferret any time he liked, but when she came near him, he turned human. Or, if he were already human, and she walked off, he reverted to ferret. If he didn’t start controlling it soon, he’d be in serious trouble! He also knew if he wanted to do his job properly without detection, he’d have to keep away from her.
Ondine caught a glimpse of him and momentary shock played over her lovely features. Just as quickly, she reset her face, as if she hadn’t seen anything at all.
Hamish felt a fresh surge of pride at how well she handled herself, considering the crazy circumstances.
‘Your Grace,’ Ondine said, walking towards the Duke.
Galloping agony pummelled Hamish from the inside, but now his biggest worry was fear of discovery. He had to change back or he’d be exposed. All the time he said not a peep, made not a single groan or even a loud panting noise.29 Watching her feet move around the table and stop at each person was another form of torture. But the motivation to remain undetected overrode all else. Revisiting the pain, he willed his body back to ferret form.
Through blurry vision, he saw Ondine’s feet approaching the Duchess and Vincent and nearly miss a step. Oh no, this was hardly the quiet sneaky start he’d hoped they could all make. Vincent now knew Ondine was here, so they’d have to be extra careful.
Staggering on to his four paws, Shambles wobbled and hobbled back to the safety of Old Col. Lovely meaty aromas assailed his senses. When he looked up, he found a tiny lamb cutlet dangling from her fingers.
‘Aye, yer a good woman.’ He kept his voice quiet, so that only Col could hear.
He buried his face in the meat, biting off chunks and swallowing them without chewing. He heard rather than saw Ondine leave via the servant’s door. A pang gripped his heart at her departure, but he knew that she’d want to get as far away from Vincent as possible.
A furious barking sound came from the guests’ entrance. Two of the waiters opened the double doors. In stepped the Infanta Anathea holding a white ball of fluff under her arm. It barked and yapped like a lunatic. (The dog, not the Infanta.) With the frozen expression of a woman caught in a wind tunnel, the ash-blonde Infanta looked around at everyone seated at the table. For a while Shambles tried to work out what was wrong with her face. Everybody knew the Infanta was at least a decade older than the Duke, but her eyebrows were up near her hairline and her forehead looked ironing-board flat.
The Autumn Palace Page 4