Murderous Matrimony (Renaissance Faire Mystery) Read online

  “What’s wrong?” Chase asked. “Wanda?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  He frowned, and went to change out of his dinner finery in the bathroom.

  “For someone who doesn’t want to be sent away, you have a strange way of showing it.” I removed my veil and headpiece. “What do you want, Wanda?”

  “What everyone wants,” she snapped back. “Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

  “You’re dead. We can’t change that, but quit messing around with the people who can see you—and the animals—and you could stay.”

  A voice from the bathroom added, “And stay out of our apartment.”

  “Chase is right. You know you shouldn’t be here.”

  Wanda sobbed harder. “In other words, give up everything I enjoy about death, and I can stay. Well, where’s the fun in that? Maybe it would be better to be sent away.”

  “If that’s the way you feel.” I sat on the bed, and took off my boots.

  “Of course, you’ll have to find a sorcerer—a real sorcerer—first.” She stopped crying, put her head where it belonged, and rubbed her hands together.

  “Not just any sorcerer,” I reminded her. “The one who gave you the bracelet.”

  She was in the air the next moment. “I didn’t realize that. He would never do such a thing. He loved me. I guess all of you are quite screwed.”

  Wanda vanished. I hoped it was for the remainder of the night.

  “Is she gone?” Chase glanced around as he came out of the bathroom.

  “Right now.”

  He laughed as he came toward me. “Quick then, lady. Out of those clothes.”

  *

  It was a long, wonderful night without Wanda. The sun came out the next morning and got rid of all the creepy fog. It looked like it was going to be a nice day. For the first time in a long while, I was looking forward to it.

  Chase and I parted company after coffee and cinnamon rolls. He was off to find out what had caused a water line break that was keeping the Good Luck Fountain closed for the day.

  I was wearing my lucky pink blouse and matching long skirt with a tied black vest that made my waist look really small. My first stop was going to be the museum. I hoped it would be a busy day for us.

  Brother Carl stopped me before I could leave the Monastery Bakery. “Lady Jessie, with the ruckus outside last night, did you notice Madman Bob in the crowd?”

  “No. I didn’t notice him. But there were a lot of people out there. He could’ve been there, and I didn’t see him. Why?”

  He took two cast iron pans from behind the serving counter. “I found these outside on my morning constitutional. I’ve never seen Bob leave his pans behind. I hope nothing is wrong.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. Madman Bob may have dropped his pans and run away after all the craziness last night.

  “You should probably tell Chase if you think something has happened to Bob. I’ll keep a lookout for him. He’s probably around somewhere. You know how those madmen are.”

  Brother Carl held up one more piece of evidence. “Would he leave this behind?”

  It was Bob’s change cup. It was filled with change and dollar bills. There was a bright red stain on one side. It flared out at me from the burnished metal.

  “I’ll call Chase,” I told him. “It’s probably nothing, but let’s check it out anyway.”

  I hung around and waited until Chase arrived. Lucky he wasn’t really busy and it didn’t take long for him to get there.

  “Bob might’ve left his pans because he was scared or whatever,” I told Chase. “But he wouldn’t have left his money behind.”

  Chase held up the money cup. We’d already placed it in a plastic bag for safekeeping.

  “I hope that isn’t blood on it,” I said. “Where does Bob live?”

  Chase had a map that showed where everyone in the Village lived. He looked up Bob’s house. He lived with a group of madmen on the other side of the Village, near Wicked Weaves.

  “I’ll check it out.” He called it in to the rest of the security team. “I heard from Detective Almond this morning. He’s on his way out here. He has another suspect for Dave’s murder.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on things here if you want to go with the Bailiff,” Manny said. “Though I’m happy the madman is gone from the front of the museum, I wouldn’t wish anything bad on him.”

  I stared hard at him. “Manny, are you the sorcerer that gave Wanda Le Fey her enchanted bracelet?”

  His dark face was affronted as he straightened his red vest. “Most assuredly not! How could you even ask me such a thing?”

  I glanced at Chase and shrugged. “It was worth a shot. Let’s go.”

  We took the back way from the museum on Squire’s Lane and walked through the damp grass through the Village Green to the King’s Highway.

  Shakespeare was not at his podium, even though the Main Gate was open.

  “Adventureland isn’t going to keep Pat on if he keeps hiding out,” Chase remarked. “I know he’s scared, but the Village needs William Shakespeare.”

  “Maybe this whole thing with Wanda will be over soon. Pat created the role. I’d hate to see him lose it.”

  We passed Fabulous Funnels, where the aroma of cooking funnel cakes was enough to make my stomach gurgle. The Lovely Laundry Ladies called out to Chase and begged him to walk their way—as always—as they carried their clothes to the well. They’d gossip loudly and call out taunts to visitors all day as they pretended to wash clothes.

  The Three Chocolatiers were dashing about, waving their swords as they practiced inviting visitors in to sample their wares. Their new, plumed hats were so large that I could barely make out their faces. Their chocolate was to die for—really. One of them had died in a vat of it last year.

  We walked past the Lady Fountain where some artist had thought it would be amusing to have a fountain gushing up under the poor woman’s dress. I never liked that fountain.

  Phil Ferguson at the Sword Spotte waved and shouted at us.

  “I need to go over and get my wedding sword,” Chase remarked. “I’m sure it looks great.”

  “You get to wear a sword?” I asked. “I need a new sword too.”

  He snickered. “Girls don’t get to wear swords with their wedding dresses.”

  I bumped him with my hip and laughed as he stumbled. “I think I can wear a sword when we get married if I want to, Sir Bailiff. I may need to defend myself against Tilly and Leo.”

  I’d told him about Tilly’s threat. Between that, and last night, he’d be keeping a close eye on them. They hadn’t actually done anything wrong so he couldn’t do something official.

  He frowned. “Better make it a broad sword if you’re gonna fight that guy. He’s huge.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, and we can all be friends.”

  “I hope so, but I’m not eating at the tavern for a while.”

  I linked my arm through his. “My thoughts exactly, good sir. They are too expensive anyway.”

  We laughed together, and waved to Mary Shift. “Good morning,” she called out. “I have something for the two of you.”

  We veered off course from the madmen’s house and went to visit her shop. Hundreds of sweet grass baskets lined the walls. They were created for all types of purposes from gathering eggs to holding fruit and flowers. Some of them were so small that they could only hold a ring. A few of them were so large—a small child could’ve slept in them.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” She had a broad smile on her dark face. “I want to give you your wedding present early. There is no way to wrap it, and I don’t want to hide it.”

  She disappeared into a backroom for a moment, and came out with a small cradle made from pink-tinged sweet grass. “I know you probably aren’t ready for this yet, but I wanted you to have it. Don’t mind the pink—it used to be for boys too.”

  Tears started to my eyes. “This is beautiful. Thank you so muc
h.”

  Chase and I hugged her. We both traced the lines of the sweet grass where it formed the basket, sides, and hood of the cradle.

  “And it comes with my best wish of happiness for both of you.” She held our hands in her callused ones. “Have a good life together.”

  We all hugged again. Tears were streaming down my face by the time we left her.

  “Where are we going to put all the wedding presents?” Chase nodded at the cradle. “This probably isn’t the only big one, and I don’t know where it’s going.”

  “We might have to get a storage room. It can be like Aladdin’s treasure cave. We can visit it once in a while.”

  He shook his head. “We’re gonna have to think about a bigger place to live, Jessie, even if I have to give up being the Bailiff.”

  “Give up being Bailiff?” I couldn’t believe he’d even consider it.

  “Roger was the Bailiff, and he opened his own glass shop. Maybe we have a craft that we can do. I could see myself as a craftsman.”

  He squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. His brown braid had swung across one shoulder. He raised his left eyebrow and peered down at me.

  I laughed out loud at him. “Let’s just stay with what we know for now, huh? We can deal with that later—if we make it through the wedding.”

  He agreed, and knocked at the house next door. “Let’s hope Bob is hanging out here. I think we’ve got enough on our plates without looking for him too.”

  But none of the twenty or so madmen had seen Bob since yesterday. He’d left the house in the morning, as usual, to head over to his spot at the Village Green. There was nothing else they could tell us about his disappearance.

  We stepped back out into the sunshine—away from the smell of dirty gym socks that seemed to pervade their dwelling. It reminded me too much of a frat house.

  “Great,” Chase said. “Now Bob is missing. Anything else?”

  “Bailiff! Bailiff!” Lord Maximus called out imperiously. “I believe there’s a dead madman on the Hawk Stage. Would you please remove it? I have a show to put on in less than twenty minutes.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Now Bob the Madman was dead too. This was crazy.

  It didn’t look like an accident either. Bob was splayed out on the Hawk Stage with an bolt dead center in his chest. There was blood everywhere. Lord Maximus wasn’t putting on any show that day.

  It was terrible, but I had to admire the amazing accuracy of the shot. It wasn’t easy hitting a target that small, especially since it was probably moving. From the trajectory, I could tell it wasn’t like the killer was standing near him. This had come from up and over.

  Detective Almond was there a few minutes later with appropriate ambulance and police support. At least he didn’t have to make an extra stop since he was already on his way here.

  “Anyone recognize this bolt?” He held it up, protected in plastic, after the assistant medical examiner had removed it.

  “I recognize it, sad to say.” Grigg had gone AWOL from the Queen’s Revenge and joined us. “It’s one of Master Simmons’s bolts from the antique crossbow that used to hang on his wall at The Feathered Shaft. I’ve looked at it many a’time.”

  My heart felt like it was breaking. I recognized the bolt too. It had been straightened again, as had the first one that had killed Dave. The markings from the crossbow on it were the same too.

  Master Simmons couldn’t be the killer. I wouldn’t believe it. He was a good man. He wouldn’t have killed Bob or Dave. He just wasn’t made that way. I’d never known a kinder, more generous person.

  “Jessie, I would’ve thought you’d be the first one to speak up with your background in archery.” Detective Almond razzed me. “Not that it matters, someone else in the Village knows their stuff and didn’t mind sharing.” He took out his cell phone, and there was a picture of the missing crossbow and bolts. “I received this yesterday.”

  I defended Master Simmons. “Why would he kill Bob, or Dave? There’s no motive there.”

  “We’ve done a little checking on your Master Archer friend. He has a record for assault and battery with a lethal weapon. Want to guess what kind?” Detective Almond smiled.

  “You have the wrong person.” I wrapped my arms across my chest.

  “Let me see.” He read from a report. “Edward Simmons. He used to live at 2060 Shell Court in Myrtle Beach. He shot an arrow at a man he was having a disagreement with. The man was wounded and pressed charges. Mr. Simmons paid a fine and did community service.”

  “He was fooling around with my wife!” Master Simmons had stalked up while Detective Almond was reading. “He wouldn’t give her up. He deserved worse.”

  “Did David Olson deserve worse?” Detective Almond’s usual voice had an edge to it. “I understand there was an altercation between you because you thought he stole your antique crossbow from the weapon museum.”

  “We had words. But when I left, he was alive and healthy.” Master Simmons sounded defensive. His voice wavered a little.

  I went to stand beside him. “He didn’t kill Bob either.”

  “Are you sure about that, Jessie?” Detective Almond put away his notebook. “Because my helpful source from the Village was Robert Maxwell, our new corpse. He sent us the photo which was taken in Mr. Simmons’s apartment here at the Village.”

  “I found the crossbow,” Master Simmons admitted. “I was hiding it because I didn’t want it at the museum again. It belongs to me.”

  “Where did you find it?” Chase asked.

  “I found it at the entrance to Sherwood Forest, where the note said I would.”

  “What note?” Detective Almond demanded.

  Master Simmons shrugged. “It was just a note I found at the shop. The thief said he was returning it.”

  “Do you still have the note?”

  “No. I threw it away.”

  Chase looked grim. “What about the bolts?”

  “They weren’t with it. I didn’t say anything because I knew Dave had been killed with one.”

  It struck me that Sofie might have been able to make this shot with a crossbow. There was no motive, as far as I could see, but there was no motive for Master Simmons either.

  Sofie, Master Simmons, Phil, and Shakespeare were all out around the museum the night Dave was killed. It didn’t make sense why any of them would kill him. What was going on?

  Someone was definitely trying to set up Master Simmons. We knew the antique crossbow wouldn’t have worked to kill Dave or Bob. It had to be a new crossbow shooting the repaired bolts. The chances were good that the police wouldn’t know that. The killer seemed to be betting on that fact.

  “Betting!” I said it out loud without really meaning to. Everyone stared at me.

  “Jessie?” Chase smiled.

  “What if the bookie, John Healy, set this whole thing up? What if he hired someone in the Village to kill Dave because he owed him money?”

  “Okay.” Detective Almond shrugged. “Mostly bookies don’t kill people. They just hurt them so they pay the next time.”

  “But what if this had gone too far and Healy wanted Dave dead?”

  “I don’t know where you’re going with this, Jessie,” Detective Almond said. “Unless you’re saying Mr. Simmons is working for the bookie.”

  “Sofie. Master Simmons, Shakespeare, Phil Ferguson, and Dave were all around the museum the night Dave was killed.”

  “Are you saying one of them is working for Healy?” Chase asked.

  “Bob told me about seeing the archer at the museum the night Dave was killed. I found out it was Sofie. She and Shakespeare are having an affair. I didn’t think she killed Dave, but maybe I was wrong.”

  “At the museum? Why would anyone have an affair at a museum?” Detective Almond glanced at me. “Help me out here.”

  “Go ahead,” Wanda prompted. “Tell him that my ex-husband is afraid to leave the museum because he’s afraid of me. I dare you.”


  “Shakespeare is having some . . . issues with his own place. Sofie lives in the forest with the Merry Men. You could see why she wouldn’t want to bring him there.”

  “Of course. If I lived in the forest with the Merry Men, I wouldn’t want to bring Shakespeare home either.” Detective Almond threw up his hands. “This place is a loony bin. I’ve said it for years. Walters, Macintyre—round up Sofie, the forest lady, and bring her and Mr. Shakespeare with us. Mr. Simmons, I’d like to continue this conversation with you at the station.”

  Master Simmons hugged me. There were tears in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Jessie, everything will be fine.”

  The police took him, leaving me sobbing into Chase’s shoulder. “Robin’s going to hate me.”

  He put his arm around me. “You told him what you knew. He’ll sort it out.”

  *

  Chase stayed to help with the crime scene work at the Hawk Stage—and to deal with Lord Maximus. The police went to Master Simmons’s apartment at The Feathered Shaft and found the antique crossbow. I saw them take it out of the Village as they went.

  I took our beautiful cradle back to the Dungeon. There was a place for it if I took everything off of a shelf—which I did. I hated to think it would have to be stored somewhere away from us, but what choice did we have?

  I went on to the museum, thinking about everything that had happened the last few days. I didn’t believe the three people the police were questioning had killed Dave.

  And what about Bob? Had he mentioned seeing an archer with a long bow to the wrong person and been killed for it?

  The antique crossbow wouldn’t have worked, even with the bolts straightened. What was I missing?

  The museum was crowded with visitors. Oliver Northman had a good crowd watching him as he spoke about the history of tapestries, and his hands moved quickly on the loom. He was a natural entertainer. The visitors seemed mesmerized by him.

  “Tapestries have been used since at least Hellenistic times. Samples of Greek tapestry have been found preserved dating from the third century BC. Europe was slow to catch on.” He laughed. “It wasn’t until the fourteenth century that tapestries were made in Germany and Switzerland.