Murderous Matrimony (Renaissance Faire Mystery) Read online

  Again, it was promo, and included a mention of the great wedding day.

  “More than two hundred and fifty couples will be married right here at the Village,” he said to the reporters. “Another possible two thousand couples will be married with a live feed which is going to Renaissance Faires and Festivals throughout the world. Guinness believes this may be the largest wedding day in history.”

  “It’s weird seeing him that way.” Chase surprised me, coming up from behind.

  I looked at Merlin in his pinstripe, three-piece blue suit—one hand casually in his pocket. His crazy hair was smoothed back on his head. He’d even shaved for the occasion. He was every inch a successful CEO.

  “I’ll say.” I took Chase’s hand and smiled at him. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “I wouldn’t miss this moment. You’ve worked really hard for it, Jessie. I know the museum is going to do well.”

  “Thanks. I wish Manny was here to enjoy this too.”

  “He has only himself to blame,” Chase reminded me.

  “Maybe.”

  Merlin finished his speech to a round of applause from the other board members, and high ranking officials from Adventureland and the Village.

  All of the guild masters were also present, and dressed in their finest—except for the Knaves, Varlets, and Madmen’s Guild. They looked as they always did in torn dresses, shirts, and britches. Most were barefoot. They carried their trademark pots and pans with them as though they were scepters.

  Madman Bob, who spent most of his time banging his pans together at the Village Green, was dressed as he always was in torn shirt and britches. He had thrown on an old brown hat that lent him an air of sophistication.

  He bowed low and gracefully to me as we met. “My Lady Jessie. May I have words with you?”

  “So good to see you, Madman Bob. I am a trifle busy at the moment. Could it wait?”

  He lowered his voice. “Perhaps not, my lady. It involves the night a murder happened right here at this museum.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I glanced at Chase. “Perhaps you could speak to the Bailiff, sir. He is directly involved in the matter.”

  “I shall only speak with you, lady. None other will do.”

  With Madman Bob insistent that he had to speak with me, I had no choice but to lead him into one of the secondary rooms.

  Chase was equally insistent that he was going to be there. Bob wasn’t happy about it, but he finally gave in.

  A dozen beautiful tapestries were hanging here, but the crowd was still enjoying food and music in the main area. Oliver Northman was setting up his loom.

  “What’s so important that you have to bother Jessie today?” Chase took a slightly belligerent tone with Bob. He stood, glaring down at him, his arms folded across his chest.

  “I will speak to Lady Jessie, Sir Bailiff, if you don’t mind.”

  I didn’t have time for a staring match. “What is it, Bob?”

  “You have been asking around the Village for anyone to come forward who had knowledge of the night Dave was killed. I was afraid to say anything, but decided I must gird my loins and tell you what I know.”

  “What did you see?” Chase asked.

  I put my hand on his arm. “What was it, Bob?”

  “I think I saw the silhouette of the killer. It was tall, though not as tall as the bailiff. There was a cloak, but I also saw a quiver of arrows on the back, and the outline of a tall bow. The person walked up the stairs to the museum. The shadow lingered for a minute. I’m not sure if it was a man or a woman. ”

  Chase got out his pencil and paper. “What time was that?”

  Madman Bob gave up the demand to speak only to me. “It was near midnight.”

  “What were you doing out here at that hour?” Chase asked.

  “I was going to see Madame Lucinda.” Bob smiled. “She is helping me with an affair of the heart.”

  “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” I wondered.

  “I was afraid, my lady. In my former life, I did some things I’m not proud of. These things could still have outstanding warrants. I don’t want to talk to the police.”

  “There’s nothing I can do about that,” Chase said.

  “Unless we can find a way around it.” I gave Chase a hard look. We obviously needed Bob’s information. We didn’t want him to run away.

  “Unless we can find a way around it,” Chase agreed with a sigh. “But I need you to write this down and sign it with your real name. I won’t use it unless I have to.”

  Bob seemed okay with that. “Thank you, my lady. I knew you would protect me.”

  “You are quite welcome, Bob. Thank you for coming forward.”

  People from the party in the big room began drifting our way. Bob took his leave of us.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Chase demanded. “Why did he think you could protect him, Jessie?”

  “I don’t know—except sometimes you come on a little mean and grumpy.”

  “Mean? I’m the Bailiff. I’m supposed to be tough . . . and grumpy . . . when it calls for it.” He grimaced. “Whatever. I have to go. It looks like your opening event is turning out okay. I love you. I’ll see you later.”

  The next hour or so was spent with Oliver Northman’s talented hands on the big loom. He was not only an expert at creating beautiful tapestries as they had hundreds of years before—he was also entertaining. He told jokes about the history of weaving, and his great-great grandfather who’d built the loom where he worked.

  The Main Gate opened at ten, and visitors began to pile into the already crowded room. It didn’t take long before the coffee and cinnamon rolls were gone. They had only been planned for the opening ceremonies, so it was okay. I thanked the two brothers who’d brought the coffee from the bakery. They bowed and left.

  Susan Halifax and the flute players left with the Adventureland board members and the guild masters. Queen Olivia and King Harold departed the museum after allowing photos from the first visitors to arrive.

  Oliver took a break after the first hour. The king had given him a park pass for the day so he could wander at will between his times working on the loom.

  “That was quite a crowd,” he said with a smile. “I’ve never used the loom in front of royalty before. That’s something to write home about. I hope there were pictures.”

  “I saw the Adventureland publicist here taking pictures. I’m sure she’ll send you some. Otherwise, you should be all over Facebook and other social media already.”

  “Odds bodkins! I’m famous! I think I’ll see if that will buy me a cup of ale at the local pub.”

  Obviously, he was enjoying his time at the museum. I’d hoped he would be a good sport about being at the Village for the day. You never knew about people. Some just didn’t understand, or like it.

  “I missed everything, didn’t I?”

  I heard Manny’s voice behind me and ran to hug him. “You’re not in jail! I’m so glad to see you.”

  He adjusted his vest and jacket, smoothed his hair and checked his watch fob. “No, I’m not in jail. My lawyer proved who I was to the satisfaction of the police. I will pay for it later, no doubt. But for now I’m a free man.”

  “I’m sorry it didn’t happen in time for the opening, but everything went beautifully.”

  “Where’s our loom master?” He glanced at the old loom with the start of a new tapestry on it.

  “He’s taking a break. He’ll be back soon.”

  “And what of the person who killed Dave the Madman? Has the Bailiff had any luck locating that person?”

  “No.” I told him what Madman Bob had said, as well as recounting what I’d gleaned from Master Simmons. “I don’t know if that will matter, especially since he may be a criminal himself.”

  Manny had a look of complete shock on his face. “I thought there were background checks here. How could such a man come to work outside our door?”

  I laughed at him. �
��The same way you did, I guess. Adventureland’s background checks must not be worth much.”

  “Are you comparing me to a killer archer?” He looked at his shiny shoes and perfectly creased Victorian clothes.

  “No. Not at all. Come on. Let me show you the work Oliver did this morning.”

  *

  When Oliver came back from his break, I left Manny in charge at the museum.

  I believed Madman Bob. He probably saw something important the night Dave was killed. Whether it would be helpful or not, was another story. It was a piece of the whole puzzle. I needed to find what went with it.

  I walked down to see Roger Trent at the Glass Gryphon. He was working on a large flying horse he was creating from iridescent glass. It was an incredible piece. I couldn’t wait until it was his turn at the museum to show off.

  “I don’t need to ask why you’re here.” Roger put the piece aside. “You want to know about Dave, right? I’ve been waiting for Chase, or the police, to realize that I had valuable information. I should’ve known it would be you!”

  We sat down together with his wife, Gullah basket weaver, Mary Shift. Both of their shops were slow for the moment.

  I’d apprenticed with both of them. Everyone was always so busy, it was hard to find time just to sit and catch up. I enjoyed seeing them.

  But Roger wasn’t interested in a tea party where we could gossip and talk about what we’d been doing.

  “He’s in one of his moods,” Mary told me as she worked on a sweet grass basket.

  “They don’t appreciate me, Mary,” he complained. “They send Jessie to ask me questions. Here I am—an experienced, retired police officer. They ignore me.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing personal.” She looped the grass together with her fingers, barely looking at it.

  Mary was a slight, black woman with an interesting face and hands that were never still. She was dressed in a long purple cotton skirt and matching blouse that was tied in the front.

  “You know I’m naturally nosy,” I told him. “Tell me about Dave. I know that you had problems with him gambling.”

  He nodded, apparently willing to overlook my menial status in order to talk about what he knew best. “I had to roust him several times. The man didn’t know how to win, but he was obsessed with trying. A bookie once paid someone in the Village to break his legs because he owed so much money.”

  “Did that happen? Did you catch who was responsible?”

  He grinned. “Ever hear of Zachary the Giant in the Village?”

  “No. Is that who broke Dave’s legs?”

  “That’s right. I was an excellent Bailiff in my day.”

  “Was the bookie named John Healy?”

  “I don’t think that was him. But this was a few years back. There’s probably someone new in town now.”

  “Have you heard anything that could tie into this?” I told him what Bob had said about seeing the figure at the museum the night Dave was killed.

  “The only thing we hear about every day is the ghost, the Blue Lady.” Mary crossed herself. “I haven’t seen her yet—they say it’s Wanda Le Fey.”

  “Yes. It’s Wanda. I’ve seen a lot of her lately.”

  Roger got up and went back to his glass work.

  “He doesn’t believe,” Mary said. “If he can’t touch it, he doesn’t think it’s real. Why did I fall in love with a man like him, Jessie?”

  I laughed. “It seemed to me at the time that you couldn’t help yourself!”

  “That’s true enough.” She smiled, and never lost track of the grass she was weaving. “How is it with you and Chase?”

  “It’s good. It’s a little weird right now with the wedding, and the ghost. But we’re okay.”

  “Good. I can’t wait until the wedding, you know. I love a good wedding.”

  We talked for a while longer about her family, and Tony. I finally had to say goodbye, and took my nugget of information with me. So this had happened before, when Roger was the Bailiff. A bookie didn’t come into the Village—he hired someone already here.

  What if that was what had happened to Dave?

  It was still drizzling a little outside. The cloud layer above me looked heavy and ready to pour down again at any moment. I went back to the museum and checked in with Manny. After the initial visitor rush, things were quiet. He and Oliver were heading out for lunch. I sighed as we closed the museum, adding the Gone to Lunch sign at the door.

  There were going to be bad days, I reminded myself. When it rained, people didn’t come to the Village. It didn’t mean my museum was going to fail. I had a great line up of craftsmen and artisans coming for the Thanksgiving and Christmas seasons, which were always busy. It would be all right.

  As I hit the cobblestones, I saw something I’d hoped never to see again—Morgan Stanley Manhattan, Chase’s brother.

  I knew Chase’s family was coming for the wedding. Morgan was as handsome as Chase, but devious and underhanded. He’d brought Chase’s former fiancée to try and lure him away from me on a previous visit. The results had been catastrophic.

  Long story short: Chase and I had survived and Morgan had gone away.

  I supposed the handsome older gentleman with Morgan was their father. I hadn’t met him yet. He’d been in prison for a short while for insider trading. Not surprising with children named for financial institutions.

  The older woman, blond and blue eyed with the best tan ever, was probably Chase’s mother. I hadn’t met her yet either. According to Morgan, she thought I wasn’t good enough for Chase. That was why she’d sent Morgan to get rid of me.

  They were walking along in that manner that people have when they don’t know where they’re going.

  “Are you sure Chase said he lives in a Dungeon?” Mrs. Manhattan questioned.

  “I’ve been here before, Mother. Chase and Jessie live over there.” Morgan seemed already bored with the whole ordeal. “They call it the Dungeon.”

  “If the boy wants to live in the Dungeon, who are we to interfere?” Mr. Manhattan declared.

  “That’s why our brilliant son lives in this place,” Mrs. Manhattan accused. She got her six-inch heel caught between the cobblestones, and had to be extricated by her son and husband.

  I quickly and carefully moved away from them before Morgan noticed me. I was in no mood to deal with Chase’s family. I knew I wouldn’t have any choice at some point, but not now.

  “Want me to do something particularly nasty to them?” Wanda watched them with me. “I could throw something at them, or put them on top of the castle. I’m getting quite good at wreaking havoc.”

  I knew it was too good to last. Wanda wasn’t completely gone yet.

  “That’s okay. Not that you listen to me.”

  “I want us to be friends since we’re going to be together for the whole rest of your life.” She laughed.

  “I’m not kidding about giving you to someone else,” I threatened. “I’ll do it.”

  “You’re far too squeamish, sweetie. You can’t stand the thought of hurting someone’s feelings. You wouldn’t banish me that way.”

  She was probably right, though I didn’t want to admit it. Otherwise I would have already done it. How could I give the plague that was Wanda to someone else? It wouldn’t be fair. At least I kind of deserved it.

  After they were gone, I sneaked back to the Dungeon and changed clothes. It had occurred to me that I was leaving one stone unturned—I hadn’t been to Sherwood Forest yet. Someone there might be able to identify the late night archer Bob had seen at the museum.

  I had a man’s ragged shirt and britches that I wore when I helped Chase with Vegetable Justice—that wild throwing of squishy vegetables and fruit at wrong doers. I slipped those on and put on my boots. I didn’t want to run into the Manhattan clan again without some kind of disguise. Besides, the forest was bound to be muddy after the rain.

  I looked at my dresser. My cell phone stared back at me.

  Tech
nically, employees weren’t supposed to have cell phones on them while the Village was open. Of course, many violated this rule. Getting caught could mean a stint in the castle kitchen washing dishes, unless you were willing to be terminated.

  I didn’t plan to get caught. I shoved my cell phone into a small cloth bag that I could tie to my belt. Normally, I abided by the rules, but there had been some occasions that I’d wished I had some way to get in touch with Chase, or the police.

  I wasn’t going looking for a killer without my cell phone.

  I also picked up my quiver of arrows that I’d made myself. I slung that over my shoulder with my bow—also handmade under Master Simmons tutelage.

  There were two boys in the dungeon when I went back out. They looked like they were nine or ten. They were closely investigating the fake prisoners who called out to them. They jumped, startled, when they saw me as I was locking the door to the apartment.

  “It’s all right,” I said. “Just watch out for that one in the last cell. He bites.”

  They looked uncertain at that, and I laughed as I was walking out the door. That was one of the things I loved most about the Renaissance Faire. There was always surprise and uncertainty about the things people saw. Not just kids either. I’d seen adults so involved in a joust that they fell off of the bench where they’d been sitting.

  I ducked behind The Jolly Pipemaker’s shop to make sure the coast was clear. I called Chase while I was back there to let him know that his family had arrived.

  “Are you out in the Village on your cell phone?” he asked, no doubt hearing the music from the Dutchman’s Stage next door.

  “Of course not. Love you. Gotta go.” I turned off my phone and put it back in the bag.

  I stayed off the cobblestones until I got to Sherwood Forest. The forest practically empties out in front of the museum. If the archer wasn’t one of Robin’s men, or women, it was likely that someone saw him or her. There was usually a guard from the forest at the gate all night.