Castle Deadly, Castle Deep, page 4
4
Rising Action
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, I woke to the sight of frost on my window. It was October first, and with the change of months had come a greeting etched in ice. The previous October had been unusually warm. I had been an actress in Chicago then, doing nightly performances of a play that had lasted for two months. The theater had not been air-conditioned, and the hot stage lights had made my makeup run, creating a clownish effect by the end of the evening.
And now, a year later, frost on the window of a castle. A very different October indeed.
My phone rang; I picked it up to examine the screen. Dash. Butterflies fluttered around in my abdomen while I swiped the phone on.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” His voice caused an intensifying of the butterflies.
“Hi. How are you?”
He cleared his throat. It sounded as though he had just awakened. “I’m sorry I missed your text. I fell asleep on the couch watching some stupid movie.”
“That’s okay. I just wanted you to know I was thinking of you.”
“I appreciate that.”
We were both friendly and polite, but a bit too stiff for my liking. “Do you work today?”
“Yeah. In fact I’d better get moving. I’ve got an early meeting. I was thinking I’d be getting your voice mail.” So he hadn’t wanted to talk to me.
“Oh, well, it’s lucky I picked up, huh?”
A pause. “Nora,” he said, and my phone buzzed in my hand.
“I’m getting another call. Looks like it’s from my brothers.”
Dash’s voice lost some of its formality. “The twins! Tell them I say hey.”
“I will. Have a good day. Do you think you’ll—”
“Oh, shoot. Gotta go—work call.”
He said goodbye and ended the call.
With a weary sigh, I answered Jay’s call and got both brothers on speakerphone.
“Hey, Nor,” said Luke and Jay in unison.
“Hey, guys. How’s school going? Does it feel great to be seniors?”
I could practically hear them shrugging. “It’s okay,” Luke said.
“It’s already boring,” Jay said.
It sounded like he was eating cereal. I had a sudden image of them as toddlers, eating their Cheerios with tiny spoons.
“But we’re not calling about school.”
“Oh?” I got out of bed, depositing a clinging kitten on the floor. “What can I do for you at”—I consulted my clock—“seven ten in the morning?”
“We have great news,” Luke said. “All of our weekends are free in October.”
“How nice for you,” I murmured, heading toward my little bathroom.
Jay slurped some milk in my ear. “He means that we are free to come out to the castle for a visit. Sample the charms of a castle in autumn, chat with the locals, get into some kind of awesome trouble. Stuff like that.”
“We’re pretty busy around here right now,” I said. “I’m in two plays, remember? And Mom said you’ll all be coming out to see the show in town.”
“Boring,” said Jay.
Luke was slightly more diplomatic. “We want to see your show and everything, but Derek said we could come out for some castle fun.”
“When did he say that?” Derek was busier than anyone, and the last thing he needed was two extremely intrusive teens hanging around.
“Recently,” Jay hedged.
“I don’t know. I would like to see you guys again, but I don’t want you to wear out your welcome.”
I could picture Jay’s indignant face. “We’ve only been there one other time, and that was months ago! We were texting Renata.”
“What? You’ve been bothering Renata?”
Luke sighed patiently. “We were not bothering her. She likes us. We mostly just send her GIFs. They crack her up. And then she sends us these puzzles we have to solve. Sometimes they’re in German; those are more challenging.”
Renata really did love those two. “And why does she send you puzzles?”
Jay cleared his throat. “If we solve them, she sends us little gift certificates and stuff.”
“Do not take money from my friends!” I said.
“She’s our friend, too,” Jay countered. “She loves to lavish us with gifts because we’re so adorable.”
I sighed.
“Anyway, Nor, back to the subject at hand.”
“Stop crunching cereal in my ear.”
The crunching became louder. “We can come as early as this weekend,” Jay said.
“Say the word and we’ll pencil you in,” Luke said, riffling some papers.
“Don’t make it sound like I’m requesting a visit,” I said. But my lips were curling upward of their own volition.
“Just talk to King Derek,” Luke wheedled. “Tell him we shall be his jesters.”
“That’s for sure,” I said. “A couple of clowns. Or oafs, maybe.”
Jay’s voice was bland. “We know you miss us, Nor, so don’t even pretend.”
He was right. I did miss them, especially the way they made me laugh.
“Okay, I’ll talk to Derek today. You persuaded me.”
My brothers yelled, “Huzzah,” over and over in my ear.
* * *
* * *
BY THE TIME I emerged from the shower and donned a black sweater and jeans, I had received a text from Derek, sent to all actors in the castle.
Check the costume room schedule. Elspeth is doing final fittings today and dress rehearsal is tomorrow.
“Ah,” I told the cats, who were waiting for their food. “The busy day begins.”
I fed my sweet kittens, locked them safely in my room, and walked swiftly down the hall to the south stairs, where the costume room sat across from Miranda’s room.
A schedule was taped on the door, and I saw that I was second in line, after Connie. I wandered into the room and saw Elspeth assessing Connie’s outfit as she turned around. We were supposed to be a sophisticated French-American family of the mid-twentieth century, and Elspeth had made Connie a white silk suit with palazzo pants. It looked amazing, especially with high-heeled gray-white shoes with rhinestone straps. Elspeth had tucked Connie’s blond hair up in a sophisticated twist.
“Wow,” I said. “That is absolutely perfect.”
“Great timing, Nora,” Elspeth said. “Connie, you can take that with you now; I’m finished with the hemming.”
Connie spun around, admiring the suit in Elspeth’s long mirror. “You really are a genius, El,” she said. “Derek is going to love this.”
“Nora’s turn,” Elspeth said.
Connie obediently stepped down from the little round platform, and Elspeth handed me my outfit. Connie was the dead patriarch’s legitimate and favorite daughter, while I was a child of his mistress, never quite welcomed into the family. Elspeth had put me into a maxi dress with a black bodice and a black-and-white-checked skirt. My grandmother had worn a dress like it once; I had seen pictures.
I slipped into the gown and took my place on the platform while Elspeth’s big marmalade cat, Ollie, watched from atop a nearby shelf.
“Yes,” Elspeth murmured.
“Nora, you look so dramatic!” Connie said. “That black velvet with your dark hair . . .”
“I have a chignon for your hair,” Elspeth said. “Used to be all the rage back in the day. Let’s have a look.”
She climbed on the platform with me, holding something that looked like a soft slinky. She made some deft movements with her hands, and then with a hair pick, and then she turned me to the mirror. I had a perfectly round bun on the top of my head, but two long dramatic strands of hair hung down on either side of my face.
“I like it,” I said.
“I love costume day,” Connie said. “The clothing always makes me feel so much more ready for the performance. Like girding for battle.”
“Agreed,” I said.
Miranda appeared in the doorway. “Knock, knock,” she said in her soft voice. “Should I come back?”
“No, come on in. I just finished with your daughter,” Elspeth said with a wink.
Despite the fact that Miranda wasn’t much older than Connie and me, she had been cast as my mother, the patriarch’s mistress. To her credit, Miranda did a great job with the role; she appropriately captured the weary patience of a long-neglected woman.
“Have fun.” I waved at Miranda and Elspeth, and Connie and I floated out of the room in our fancy attire, holding our casual clothes.
“Let’s change and grab some breakfast before rehearsal. Derek makes them last so long that I always end up starving if I miss my morning meal.”
“Sounds good—meet you in the hall in five minutes.”
* * *
* * *
ON SOME DAYS I still felt like a child on Christmas Day when I wandered around the castle, and I felt that magic now, too, as Connie and I descended the large staircase and saw the poetic etchings of frost on the landing window. How had I ended up in this place? How had this place ended up in the world? The castle was a carefully constructed illusion, neither historical nor relevant to anything else. It was one man’s vision, and now I got to enjoy it.
I was still feeling dreamy when we entered the kitchen and saw Zana filling the chafing dish on the sideboard with fluffy scrambled eggs. Suddenly I was very hungry.
“Thank you, Zana. You’re an angel,” I said. “My brothers are threatening to come and visit again, so I’m warning you in advance: they will try to consume your stores.”
Zana brightened. “The twins? Oh, my gosh, they were so fun. Eriza friended them on Facebook and they joke around all the time. She wants to meet them.”
“Yes, yes, everyone loves them,” I said, pretending to be annoyed. “Meanwhile I’ve spent eighteen years trying to get them out of my hair.”
Zana shook her head. “Girl, you can’t even hide how much you dote on those boys.”
Connie had already filled a plate and taken a bite of toast. “It’s true, Nora. You’re always talking about them with this soft look on your face. Clearly they are your little babies.”
An unbidden memory: of my parents bringing the twins home in matching carriers. Even as infants Jay and Luke had looked calculating. My mother had set them down on the floor, and Luke immediately made a gigantic sound in his diaper. Jay actually turned and looked at him, and my mother swore that he was laughing.
* * *
* * *
LATER THAT MORNING, we found ourselves in the large drawing room, rehearsing our lines. The castle’s first show would be the following evening. And then the busy fall season would be upon us.
Derek stood with his hands on his hips, ever the director, Hamlet sitting near him like a codirector. Derek made sure to point out to us that our paying guests were the actual detectives and that we had to be ready for their questions.
“Remember that depending on what the Inspectors say, our dialogue might start with different people. We have to be flexible. Let’s start this one with Nora.”
I stepped forward in my flowing dress, trying to project fury and hurt feelings. “Oh, what a surprise to find you all here together! I guess my invitation got lost in the mail. All talking about Dad’s will, are we? Wondering who’s going to get the lion’s share? Well, guess what. He loved my mother and me far more than he loved that grasping woman who measures love by price tags—”
“I assume you are referring to me,” Renata said grandly, emerging from one corner in an expensive-looking wool dress. “And I suppose you feel no shame about making such insulting comments in my house. But of course, neither you nor your mother has any shame. If she did, you wouldn’t exist.”
I moved forward, intent on slapping her, but Dorian caught my arm. “That’s not going to happen, spitfire. You’re right. We should have invited you, but you can’t possibly think our dad would leave you anything. You or your mother. You can tell her that she has no right—”
“Tell her yourself,” said Miranda, stepping out of the shadows behind me. Elspeth had made her up to look middle-aged, and she wore such a weary expression that I actually felt sorry for her.
Dorian was not embarrassed. “Hello, Miranda. Does the house look different since you were a kitchen maid here?”
Miranda’s lips curled. “Not much has changed. You were a rude little boy, and you’re a rude man.”
Connie swirled wine in her glass. “That seems a bit hypocritical, Miranda, since you bore my father’s illegitimate child and now have the gall to show up here to see if he left you money. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Inspector here told me that you killed him.”
Miranda was trembling with emotion. “I loved that man. Thank God he had someone in his life who loved him. His spoiled children and his mercenary wife brought him little joy. And where were all of you when he died? At least my daughter was willing to sit by his side, reading from the poetry books he loved.”
Derek clapped his hands. “Oh, yes, the sainted Miranda. And I don’t suppose that you used that time at his bedside to ingratiate yourself with him, right? You were too busy making sure he was happy.”
“Yes. Like any decent human being, I wanted to bring him comfort and happiness.”
“Enough of this,” Renata said sharply. “The lawyer will be here soon to read the will, and then we will never see these two women again, and I will be quite glad.”
Elspeth wandered in and joined her “siblings” Derek, Dorian, and Connie. “What did I miss? I was talking to the cook.”
“Nothing worth repeating,” said Renata coldly. “The will shall reveal everything.”
I turned to an imaginary guest. “Inspector, you might want to know that there was another will.”
“What?” yelled several voices together.
“My father told me that he’d been having second thoughts about the will and the disbursement of his money. He said he wished he had never been rich at all—that the money spoiled the natures of his wife and children, and he felt guilty about it.”
“That’s a lie!” shouted Dorian. His eyes sparked with fury.
“Is it?” I met Miranda’s eyes. “My mother and I are here because we know where he put the new will. He said it’s in the catacombs.”
A gasp from everyone in the room,
I spoke again to the imaginary guest. “Inspector, if you’ll lead us downstairs, I think I know just where he hid it.”
“You wrote it yourself!” Derek cried.
Miranda smiled. “No one could possibly duplicate Pierre’s handwriting. You know how eccentric it was.”
“Besides,” I said, “he told me it was witnessed by someone he did not name.”
Renata and her children looked frozen. Derek recovered first. “Well, then, to the catacombs it is!”
We all stood still, and Derek said, “Great job, everyone. Then we go down to the catacombs and I have my argument with Dorian, Miranda tries to break us up, and we accidentally stab her.”
“Very Shakespearean,” Renata said approvingly.
“Connie should be skulking around, looking nervous, so I assume by that time one of the Inspectors will accuse her, and we can go have wine and cheese.”
“A good wine always helps to cleanse the palate after a murder,” Renata said.
We laughed. Paul came in, smiling. “Sounded good,” he said. “And I just booked two more events. You’ll all be very busy actors.”
* * *
* * *
PAUL WAS RIGHT. The first castle show happened the following day; it went quite well, even though Elspeth forgot to plant one of her clues, and Dorian almost laughed out loud when I tripped over a carpet flap in the main hallway. I glared at him, and we played it off as part of our general antagonism.
Even though the castle shows had begun, our rehearsals at Blue Curtain continued, and it was an exhausting time. On Thursday afternoon Derek reminded us that after rehearsals we would be doing a special castle show that evening for the Wood Glen Thespian Society. We all knew this, but it was a bit daunting to consider it, since we had hours of rehearsal left and most of us longed for a nap.
By five o’clock, Derek said, “All right, we want to try Act Three. Kristine and Krogstad, let’s get you onstage. Nora and Torvald, be ready in the wings.”
Dorian and I climbed onto the stage. No matter how tired I might be, I never ceased to feel a thrill when I stood in the footlights and looked out at an audience (though the audience in this case consisted of a couple of understudies and Derek). There was a magic in it, and in the connection between performer and audience, that was impossible to explain. It was energy generated by art, and it was real. I looked forward to opening night with low-grade excitement that was growing each day. It had been quite a while since I’d been on a stage, and the BC, though small, was a pretty little theater.
I walked across the stage and sat down at a table. Dorian came in, frowning in his role as Krogstad. He demanded to know why I had summoned him and curled his lip at the idea that we just had to meet in the Helmers’ house.
I waited for him to vent his irritation, and then I said, “All right, Krogstad, let’s talk.” I loved the directness of the line, of Kristine’s refusal to let Krogstad assume things when she could simply communicate with him directly.
And so, leaning forward with an earnest expression, my hands close to his, I told him why I had left him a decade ago. That I felt proud to have married a man who could provide for my mother and my two little brothers even though I had not loved him.
Krogstad continued to snap at me, hurling barely concealed accusations.
