Aria in Ice (17 page)

I hid my amusement and looked staright into
those hypnotic green eyes of his. “And so… what
is
the true
story behind your felonious past?”

He shook his head. “Two-fold and all
revolving around circuses. I got into some trouble when I was
eleven down in Houston. I was hanging out at some circus musing
over a career as the Elephant Man and I ended up being friends with
Serpent Boy who was about my age. One afternoon we decided to take
a joy ride in a customer’s classic Corvette convertible while the
customer was watching the antics of fifteen clowns in a Volkswagen
towed by a sleepy elephant who had nothing to do with Elephant
Man.”

I snorted. “You desperado, you.”

“Hey! We brought it back. Absolutely intact.
Better even. We’d taken it to a car wash and got the thing cleaned
for him since we hated seeing dust on a vehicle that fine. The
customer was very understanding, especially since he’d been dumb
enough to leave the top down and the keys in the ignition. Serpent
Boy and I got the whipping of our young lives from his parents and
my mom grounded me for a year so that ended my days of benign
carjacking.”

“And the second half of that fold?” I
asked.

“I was in Montana doing summer stock when I
was still in college and I -well—I stole two lions from a different
circus touring the Western states in the U.S. Those poor beasts
were being abused beyond belief. So I snuck in and got them out
with the help of a group who ran a rescue habitat for animals. We
got caught. The owner of the circus rather gleefully pressed
charges even though it was obvious the cops were in sympathy with
all the rescuers. I refused to give up the whereabouts of Fred and
Ginger, the lions, so I was indicted with a felony charge since the
animals were considered worth in excess of $50,000. Two others
actors from the company and I spent seven nights in the clink in
Butte, where we learned of things best left forgotten. Although,
once the inmates knew why we were there they were rather nice.
Kieran always told me that other than serial killers and general
sociopaths, most guys behind bars are major softies when it comes
to kids, puppy dogs and large animals who’ve been beaten every day
since they were born.”

“Did Kieran get you and your felonious
buddies out?” Kieran, Johnny’s Dad, is Deputy District Attorney in
Manhattan.

“He made a call to a local judge he knew from
Yale.” Johnny beamed at me. “The judge happened to be president of
the local animal shelter. So I—quote unquote—did time for a whole
week. What gripes my butt is why some dimwit bimbo like Lily Lowe
is doing searching my background. I mean—why?”

I was silent for a moment, taking time to
ingest this along with my coffee and kolaches.

“Because she’s a bitch. I’m sorry, Johnny.
Really.”

“For what?”

“For not socking her in her overly-collagened
lips, then pondering not-so-great things after Lily laid her little
bombshell out last night.”

“What not-so-great thoughts were you
pondering?”

“Hmm. Now that you mention it, I wasn’t even
specific in those thoughts. My gosh, Shay comes up with scenarios
to curl your hair, yet tells me to trust and I honestly couldn’t
imagine anything bad enough to have landed you behind bars. Really.
Uh. The word ‘research.’ was my first thought as in, ‘Johnny got
himself behind bars to research something for
Endless
Time
.’” I smiled. “I did wonder if robbery was your thing.
Having seen your butt slide out of a tower window at the castle, I
could just see you sliding out of other windows. You’ll be happy to
hear I didn’t even consider murder although by rights you should be
listed with the other suspects around here for that piano tuner’s
demise.”

Johnny smiled, then reached over and added
another kolache to his plate from the dozen or so that had been
placed in a basket in the middle of the table. He carefully took a
bite, chewed and finished before he said another word. “Abby. It’s
okay. More than okay. You’d just been told by that,
saccharine-smiling, scheming—ah shit, words fail me when it comes
to Lily Lowe—anyway, you’d just learned that I had a prison record
thanks to her poisonous and mistaken mouth. Although, I guess I
am
an ex-con if you want to get literal. I should have told
you ages ago, but honestly? It’s not looming large in importance
anymore. A week spent in what was actually a very nice jail space
all for rescuing giant pussycats ten years ago doesn’t keep me
awake nights.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“For what? Going to breakfast and listening
to my side of the story instead of giving me the silent treatment
for the next week? There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“Well, I’d like to go open up a big can of
whup ass on Lily Lowe’s bimbo-headed blonde curls though. Why the
hell was she yakking about your past? And how did she find out
anything anyway?”

“Are you serious? Join the Twenty-first
Century and learn to spy on your friends and neighbors. Heck,
woman, you can get background checks of almost any kind on the
Internet for a price. Type in your credit card number and pay your
$39.95 and not only can you find out whether your new business
partner or lover is a serial child molester, if you
‘act today,
the offer of information comes with steak knives, a bamboo steamer
and a set of coasters!’
” His expression grew less cheerful.
“Now, as to why the lovely Lily Lowe decided to check on me in the
first place? That’s a question I plan to ask the next time I see
her. Which will hopefully be at the castle with a room full of
people because I’ve never yet socked a woman and I don’t want to
start now. Well, unless you count Melissa Harrigan in first grade
who refused to let me release the fireflies she was keeping in a
sealed jar.

“You’re a worse softie than I, you macho
actor, you. Fireflies and lions. Next you’ll be telling me you pick
up stray dogs and -oh my-actually keep them!”

He looked sheepish. “You know I do. Except I
can’t keep them. Someday when you’re Mrs. Gerard and we’re sharing
a big space to put the pups in, I’d love for us to have about ten.
Sadly, ‘til then, we’re both gone so much it’s not fair to the
pups.” His expression hardened again. “But Lily Lowe’s efforts to
entertain using the private life of Johnny Gerard make me feel
anything but soft.” He scowled. “Ah crap, I shouldn’t have told you
all this. I should have let you believe I was a
three-strikes-you’re-out arsonist or something even if it meant
breaking up with you for awhile.”

“What! Why?”

“I mentioned this the other night but it
bears repeating. Because I don’t want you—or Shay anywhere near
Kastle Kouzlo Noc
.”

I straightened up. “Wait. I thought you were
all set to acknowledge my place in your misbegotten life as your
best beloved. What did I do now?”

“Don’t be dense, gorgeous. You know you
haven’t done anything. It’s what’s
been
done.”

“Ah. You mean murder.”

Johnny nodded. “Yep. The big “M.”

“Wait. We talked about this before. Why run
Shay and me off now?”

“Because I learned a bit more about the
activities at the castle. Gustav was found by our favorite actor,
Franz, on a spot on the grounds that fit perfectly with having been
pushed out of the north tower window in the exact room where one
Abby Fouchet has been ghost-hunting—and nearly everyone involved
with
Kouzlo Noc
was nearby—including the latecomers to the
north wing where that one Abby Fouchet was doing that
ghost-hunting.”

“What did the police say?”

“I didn’t take the body to the little
village, remember? Franz and Corbin did. I was a latecomer to the
party. As to the police? From what Veronika has said, they’re still
holding the body, partly for identification since Veronika didn’t
have his last name and partly because they want the local coroner
to make a determination.”

“Well, that’s something anyway. Look, Johnny,
isn’t it remotely possible that he was snooping in that room and
really did lean too far out of that window and fell? I honestly
didn’t see anything in my vision other than,” I shuddered, “someone
falling. No pitching beforehand.”

“Sure. And it’s possible that he decided to
try a Superman routine and see if he could fly. Doubtful as hell
but possible. Let’s get real. Half the crowd here to do the movie
isn’t here to do the movie and the other half, which really isn’t
half since it’s just one other person—Corbin—has one damn flimsy
excuse for roaming the cemetery at all hours.”

“Well, duh.”

“Nicely stated.” Johnny grimaced.
“Interesting that out of the cast of characters assembled in Prague
and associated with
Kouzlo Noc
in some way, the only people
I’m sure did not come here to search for a certain dead musician’s
flute are you, me and Shay.”

I stayed silent for a second. “ Which begs
the question, why are
you
really here? Did Yolanda talk to
Madam Eurphoria, sense trouble then send Gregory Noble to scope
things out?”

“
Moi
? Except for current murder, which
I didn’t expect, Yolando really did just send me to the castle to
do Veronika a favor by restoring her mural. Of course, now that I
know about Ignatz and his flute, I think Yolanda had a little
hidden agenda, as in—legends and ghosts would be great for ratings
on the show. Hell, Yolanda knew with my natural curiosity,” he
grinned, “which some might call nosiness, I’d hear about Ignatz
within three minutes of knocking on those dragons at the castle.
But, now, if I should happen across a magical, legendary flute
while I’m—what’s your word? ‘Muraling’ well, I can’t say that I’d
toss it into the nearest moat. I would hand it over to—well—I’d say
Jozef Jezek is the logical choice.”

“Definitely. Now—back to Gustav.”

“Yes?”

“Who was he? Was he really here to tune the
piano? Do you know?”

“Veronika told me he showed up at the door
the other day, pulled the tapestry bell and charmed her into hiring
him to tune the piano you probably haven’t even seen since it’s in
the east wing. Apparently, he
did
do a bit of tinkering
before wandering off to take a tour of the towers.” He gave out
sort of a chortled snort. “Veronika said she heard a few nice notes
from the instrument before she and the girls went out to gather
rosebuds or something. Of course, Veronika’s ear for music is
probably as good as my lions’ ability to stand up for rescuer
Johnny in court.”

“Nice comparison.” I squinted at him. “Is
Veronika suspicious of Gustav’s death?”

Johnny shook his head. “She’s hiding any and
all sad truths from herself. She’s dealt with too much tragedy in
her life and she’s scared to admit violence is visiting
Kouzlo
Noc
again. So she’s convinced herself that a nearly anonymous
piano tuner just happened to drop dead of a heart attack under the
infamous north tower.”

“An explanation you’re obviously not wrapping
up in a bow and taking home.”

“Damn straight. I don’t believe that any of
the Duskovas climbed those stairs for a bit of pushing practice,
but I damn well do believe that someone else was wandering
Kouzlo Noc
and for whatever reason, helped the piano tuner
meet an early demise.”

I shivered. “Scary—and sad.”

We fell silent for a few moments. Finally, I
spoke up, “Gad. It just hit me. What you said about everyone of us
who ended up in that music room in the north tower that day. Anyone
could easily have gotten in without being seen, couldn’t they?”

“Ta-Da! See why I’d like you to leave? You
nailed it. Could be anyone. And how to track down a killer? Unless
your second sight kicks in with arrows pointing and DNA tested.
Seriously, it’s too easy to establish alibis and even if I could
prove that Lily Lowe, for instance, was warbling arias in the trees
across from the tower, it wouldn’t mean she’d swung over on a
branch and committed murder.”

I couldn’t restrain my laughter. “You don’t
like her much, do you?”

“I’m not fond of tellers of tales about
others’ pecadillos, unless those pecadillos include violent crime
and warnings are necessary. Speaking of which and I know I’m
sounding like the proverbial broken record, but will you and Shay
please heed my warning and find another castle to rent? Preferably
in—oh—California?”

I didn’t miss a beat. “If you believe that
Shay Martin would forego the delicious opportunity to film in a
castle that’s not only haunted but is the scene of a very recent
murder, well—let’s just say your thought processes would be as out
of tune as the Duskova harpsichord. She’s already hip deep in
atmosphere. Wouldn’t surprise me to have her decide to write in a
mad scene or something and pitch some stunt man out of the north
tower. With a trampoline below so he could spring back up of
course.”

Johnny growled, “Well, what about you? You’ve
found the damn castle—isn’t your job over?”

“A—I wouldn’t leave Shay to deal with all
these crazies and possible murderers. B—My job isn’t really done. I
have to help her choreograph two dance sequences for the film and
teach them to a dance captain who is currently, and wisely, not in
Prague. In fact, he’s onstage until next Friday—in
Oklahoma
.
The show, not the state. C.” I paused then took a deep breath.
“You’re not going to like C.”

“I’m sure I’m not. I didn’t like A or B,
either. But educate me as to C.”

“I don’t want to go. I want to find out
what’s going on with ghosts and flutes at
Kouzlo
Noc
.
And I’m not leaving you here to play hero by yourself, either.” I
gasped. “Oh my God!”

“What?”

“I bet it
wasn’t
Ignatz Jezek.”

“Who wasn’t?”