“What’s the point of all this?” said Fiona. “Why are we listening to you ramble on as if you were in the front of a classroom? I think we should put a stop to this and have something to eat. What say you, milords and miladies?”
“I think it’s interesting,” said William. “And the point of it, Fiona, is to determine who killed Salvador and this woman. By the way, are you knocked up?”
“William!” Glynnis gasped.
Julius stood up. “No, she is not. We are both saving ourselves for our wedding night.”
The silence this time was profound. Not even Glynnis dared to sniffle. Teeth clamped down on lips. The rough floor seemed to fascinate everyone except Julius, who remained on his feet, his fists on his hips. He reminded me of a grumpy troll defending a flower bed (or a deflowered bed, anyway).
“Julius,” Fiona said at last, “we need to talk. Why don’t we go out to the front porch?”
“Everyone needs to stay in this room,” Peter said. “It’s ... ah, safer.”
“I wasn’t suggesting we go into the woods to hunt for witches,” she said in a voice that was likely to be effective with boisterous teenagers.
Peter was not cowed. “Please remain here.”
Fiona looked as though she wanted to fling her wine at him, but regained enough composure to grab Julius’s hand and pull him back onto his chair.
I tried to collect my thoughts. “Salvador was finally successful, although he was reticent to elaborate on his source of income. He went into seclusion to work on his latest project, and felt no need to discuss the true nature of it. You all tolerated his eccentricities. It was going smoothly when waves from two directions rocked his yacht, both superficially positive. The foremost was the arrival of Edward, the son he never knew he had. Salvador was stunned. He called me more than a week ago to talk about it, but changed his mind. He managed to resolve his feelings and decide how to deal with the news.”
“I told you he was pleased,” Edward said. “He felt guilty about deserting my mother and me, and never bothering to find out if we were okay. He was going to make it up to me. I didn’t ask him for anything; he offered.”
“And very generously, according to your version,” I said. “Sadly, it’s the only version we have. You lied when you told me that you didn’t approach Salvador until the day before the Renaissance Fair; he called me almost a week before that. I have to admit I have some reservations about you, Edward. You manipulated me without a qualm, even though you knew I was frantic with worry. The only reason I can come up with is pure malice. It’s intriguing that you chose to be a jester, a naïve fool whom no one takes seriously. Your mother hid her identity, too. You might want to take this up with a psychiatrist one of these days.”
“Leave her out of this,” he said. His eyes narrowed as he noticed Fiona staring over her shoulder at him. “It’s a bunch of crap. If you were all that frantic, it was your own fault. All I ever did was confide in you because I was apprehensive and didn’t have anyone else to talk to.” His lip curled for a second, although I suspected I was the only one who caught it. It did not seem like the moment to mention that he needed to find a psychiatrist from the Freudian school of thought.
“Are we going to eat soon?” asked Glynnis.
William leaned across Peter to poke her. “Quiet, dear. I’m still waiting to hear if Fiona’s really a virgin. Highly unlikely in this day and age, if you ask me.”
“Nobody asked you,” Julius said huffily.
I smiled at Glynnis. “I hope we’ll all be eating soon, wherever we may be. After this conversation with Edward, Salvador knew he was going to have to deal with the situation. He may have felt unsure what a DNA comparison would produce, but he had to face the possibility that it might be conclusive evidence of his paternity. Did he talk to you about it, Benny?”
Benny was startled by my question. After a moment, he said, “Not the fatherhood thing. He asked for my advice about finances. I don’t know anything about corporations and trusts, so I told him to call a financial advisor. He wanted to make sure all his money was inaccessible if he was sued down the road. All his millions tied up in neat little packages, wrapped in legal jargon.”
“He asked me that stuff, too. I told him to consult a lawyer,” Anderson said. “This is getting tedious. I agree with Glynnis that it would be nice to eat before midnight. Could you speed it up, Claire? Lanya’s steak and kidney pie is bad enough when it’s hot, but unpalatable when it’s congealed.”
I caught Lanya before she could swoop down on him and add his entrails to her dish. “I’m doing my best,” I said. “Salvador intended to prepare himself for paternity by protecting his assets. He also felt like he needed to tell you, Fiona.”
Fiona glanced at Julius, then said, “We had a discussion during the Renaissance Fair. I merely pointed out that he had an obligation to our child to provide for its upbringing and future welfare.”
Julius’s face mottled with angry splotches. “Then you are pregnant! Was I going to be the fallback if Salvador didn’t believe you? Were you planning to hastily consummate our relationship and pretend the child was premature? I am not a fool, Fiona. I tried to be tolerant when you flirted with other men, and I never questioned you when you went home early because you said you had a headache. But what about the promise we made to each other?”
Fiona shrugged. “It was your idea, not mine. Since Claire is probably going to drag Edward into this, you might as well know that he and I reached an agreement in bed. We’re getting married, and will sign a prénuptial so that when he inherits Salvador’s estate, we can split it without additional taxes. The marriage may not last long, but it’s much more convenient than contesting the division of the estate. Unlike Salvador, I went to the trouble of speaking with a lawyer. I hope you’re not too upset.”
Julius pulled back his arm to slap her. Anderson grabbed his wrist and growled, “Don’t make me drag you outside and beat you to a bloody pulp, Squire Squarepockets.”
“Don’t be preposterous,” Julius squeaked, relaxing his arm. “I was going to stand up and leave, that’s all. Let go of me.” After Anderson obliged, Julius cradled his wrist and whimpered, while the rest of us exhaled.
William waggled his finger at Julius. “We do not tolerate that sort of thing here in Avalon. If you feel the need for violence, then train to become a knight. I understand it’s very cathartic.”
“Try it again and I’ll arrest you for attempted assault,” Peter said coldly.
Julius mumbled something, but it was just as well none of us could understand him. Fiona rose and joined Edward in the corner. Benny took her seat, managing to bump Julius’s shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise.
Lanya went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of wine in one hand and a jar of mead in the other. “Refills, anyone?”
Glynnis held out her cup. “How thoughtful of you. Lady Clarissa, you said earlier that two things had happened to Salvador. We know more than we wanted about Edward and his mother. What is the second? Would you like us to guess?”
“The second,” I said, “was good news. Salvador was informed that he’d won an award, the Gryphon, for his most recent graphic novel. It comes with a hefty sum of money.”
“Oh, yes,” Lanya said. “That drunken man from Australia mentioned it, didn’t he? A black-tie ceremony in Paris. Salvador was too modest to talk about it.”
“Or embarrassed.” Benny gulped down his wine and wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “An award that no one’s heard of, presented by publishers of friggin’ comic books! Not on the same level with the Nobel in literature. All he could have looked forward to was seeing Zormurd on lunch boxes and Lego boxes.”
My stomach growled (in French, no less). “Then perhaps we should wind this up. First, I believe that Angie, or whatever we choose to call her, set fire to the house herself. She’d hired an innocent woman of a similar build and age as a housekeeper. That might have been a coincidence, but Angie must have used whatever savings she had to rent the house. She couldn’t have paid a salary for very long. As much as I hate to even consider it, it suggests some degree of premeditation.”
Fiona turned to Edward. “Your mother hired a woman in order to fake her own death? That’s monstrous. Swear you didn’t know anything about it.”
He shook his head. “Of course I didn’t. I mean, she was my mother. Sometimes she was kind of crazy, but I always thought it was because of the drugs and booze.”
“Kind of crazy?” Benny snorted
ģ
“Kind of sociopathic is more like it.”
“How ghastly.” Lanya shivered as if a blast of cold air had blown through the screen. “Why would she want to ... do that?”
“In case her son found out she was in Farberville,” I said. “When she arrived, she was obsessed with Salvador. She’d done some research and come up with a scheme to get close to him without revealing her identity. He bought it and she began to model for him. She overheard remarks about the Renaissance Fair and wanted to find out more about it. What better way than to call and offer to help? She may not have known Edward was in town until then. At that point, she needed to avoid him, but he came to her house and threw a fit.”
“I didn’t throw a fit,” Edward said. “I just told her to leave.”
“I think you were more adamant than that. Did you threaten to tell Salvador if she didn’t leave town immediately? She was fixated on revenge, and you could have ruined everything. She faked her death, although she chose a cruel, heartless way. That’s when she moved into Salvador’s house.”
“Without asking his permission?” asked Glynnis, enthralled. “How delicious. Some of our friends in Connecticut had a hermit living in their garden shed. He was perfectly harmless, and it amused them to point him out to their guests when he prowled in the back of the garden. Percival was beside himself with excitement the first time we spotted him. Don’t you remember, William?”
“Shush,” he said. “You’re interrupting this fascinating story. Please go on, Clarissa.”
I glanced at Peter, who was doing his best to remain expressionless. The corners of his mouth were twitching, however. “Thank you, William,” I said primly. “Now let’s move on to the day of the Renaissance Fair. Salvador has been hit with the news that he is a father, and has reached some sort of decision. I don’t think we’ll ever know what he intended to do in the future, but that’s not relevant. The beehive has been poked, and its inhabitants are irrate. Salvador is at the archery range, located behind the row of booths and tents and therefore not visible from the main walkway. Visitors find him, some to shoot arrows at a bale of hay, others to speak privately to him. The various stages offer music, dancing, comedy, and skits. It’s a sunny day, and the attendees are in a jovial mood. Food, drink, entertainment, and souvenirs are there for all. At five o’clock, when the ARSE members retire to the farmhouse, Salvador does not appear, nor does he appear at the banquet at six. Edward sings the ballad, causing a certain amount of consternation. The announcement of Salvador’s death overrides it.”
“We were all there,” Anderson said, yawning.
“Yes, we were, and so was Edward’s mother.”
I had their attention. Peter was the only one who wasn’t gaping at me, but he was clearly surprised. I didn’t know how to elaborate without tipping off my prime suspect. That, and the fact that I had not one iota of proof. I needed it to be true because it was the key to her murder, as well as Salvador’s. I had no choice but to trust my instincts, if I wanted to get the matter resolved before the charming country inn flipped off its lights.
“Yes,” I continued with an admirable display of confidence, “she dressed as a medieval bag lady. The allure of the Renaissance Fair was too strong for her to resist, and she knew she would never be recognized. I can’t say for sure how she got there, but I think if the police want to interview their two hundred and something witnesses, they’ll find someone who saw a perfectly normal woman walking along the road and gave her a ride. Once there, she dressed in garb. She was then free to stroll around the fair.”
“That was my mother?” Edward said. “I saw her, and I guess everybody else did, too. A lot of people dress up in weird outfits for these things. I just assumed she was ...”
I gave him a chance to complete his sentence, but he looked away. “We saw her, but more importantly, she saw the person who took the battle-ax to the archery range to murder Salvador.”
“None of the witnesses saw anybody carrying a battle-ax,” Peter said.
I tried not to sound condescending, although I may have not been entirely successful. “No one would if the guilty party took the ax from the Royal Pavilion and went behind the tents to the edge of the woods. The scrub pines and brush would provide cover until the person reached the bales of hay. Then it was just a matter of waiting until Salvador took a break to collect stray arrows. Angie was likely to have been lurking nearby, spying on Salvador.”
“And just watched when…?” said Fiona.
“Let’s say she chose not to intervene. She may have been eavesdropping when Salvador asked some of you about burying his assets in trusts and corporations. She couldn’t count on his generosity toward Edward or even a lawsuit for back child support, but it was probable that Edward would inherit. Until the estate was put through probate, collecting blackmail from the murderer would provide a steady income. She met her victim in Salvador’s studio on Sunday night around midnight. Her proposal was not well received, shall we say.”
“This is speculation,” Fiona said. “You don’t know what she saw—or who. How long do we have to put up with this farce, Lieutenant Rosen? I’ve lost my appetite and would prefer to leave.”
“No, no, no,” said William. “I’m on the edge of my seat. This is quite as exciting as a mystery novel, although in this situation, the culprit is more likely to be a page than a butler. Do go on, Clarissa.”
“Are you implicated, Fiona?” asked Glynnis, peering hopefully at her.
“Of course not!” she snapped.
Benny looked back at her. “It makes sense. You didn’t know what you could count on from Salvador after you had the baby. Being the legal guardian of what you thought was his only issue would allow you to get your hands on his estate, once he was dead. Edward’s announcement ruined that, but you didn’t waste much time coming up with an alternative scheme.”