Death in Castle Dark, page 7
I moved back to the sidewalk and ran into Renata, who rounded a wall of the south wing, walking briskly. “Oh—be careful,” I said. “There’s some broken glass around here.”
“Glass?” she said. “Where?”
I pointed to the area. “It was there. I think I got it all.”
She glanced where I was pointing, then shrugged. “A broken window, perhaps? I think there was a brief storm last night.”
“Maybe.” I took note of her neat bun, her T-shirt and shorts, her sturdy shoes. “Have you been hiking?”
“Yes.” She stretched her arms behind her back. “I like to get in a mile or so before breakfast. Get the blood flowing.”
“Yeah, I had the same idea. Something about the view makes me want to always be in it.”
Renata moved a bit closer, seemingly willing to talk. “You have an ingenuous look about you, like a girl in a fairy tale. Gretel about to get lost in the woods, or Red Riding Hood off to meet the wolf.” She smiled at the final image, and I laughed.
“No, the fairy-tale girl would be Connie, who looks like a perpetual ingenue. My dark hair often gets me cast as a villainous woman.”
Renata’s face grew serious. “I don’t see anything of the villain in you.”
“I’m glad,” I said, grinning. “Have you eaten? There are delicious pancakes in the dining room.”
She gave me another small smile, then bowed at me. “I will seek them out. Thank you, Nora.” She swept past me, smelling of roses, and dug out her key to let herself back into the building. Derek kept the doors locked at all times. For everyone’s security, he said. He had issued us all numbered keys.
I moved down the walkway and headed across a clearing toward a cluster of woods I had not yet investigated. Something in my peripheral vision caught my attention, and I turned to see a girl coming toward me, holding a wicker basket. She was a teenager, perhaps the age of my brothers or even a bit younger. She had reddish hair and dark-rimmed glasses; she wore an orange romper and brown sandals. The basket seemed to be full of motion. I squinted and saw that her little hamper was filled with—animals. By the time she reached me I could tell that they were kittens.
In a surreal taking-stock moment, I thought, The illusion of Castle Dark continues. A girl with a basket of kittens has wandered across the lawn as though cued by a director.
“Hey,” said the girl.
“Hey. What have you got there?”
She held it up. “Three left. I’m hoping to unload them here so I don’t have to consign them to life in a cage at the Humane Society. Want one?”
She swung the basket up toward me and one of the kittens, perched halfway on the edge of the basket, almost fell out onto the ground.
“Oh—careful!” I said. I lifted the kitten in question, a solid-gray animal with a sweet and inquisitive expression, and snuggled it against my chest, where it began to purr. “Hey, little guy,” I said to its fluffy face.
“Actually, that’s a girl. All three of them are. I had some boys, but people took those. That’s patriarchy for you,” she said with a shrug.
I laughed. “I would love a kitten,” I said. “I really, really would. But I don’t know if they’re allowed in my apartment.”
She pointed at the giant castle behind us. “You live there? Old Derek wouldn’t mind; he’s a softie.”
“You know Derek?”
“Yeah, sure. He’s part of our Wood Glen Community Theater. He directs some of the productions, and he acts in them, too. He directed me in School of Rock. I’m hoping he’ll cast me in A Christmas Carol this winter.”
“Oh, a fellow thespian,” I said, extending my hand. “I’m Nora.”
She shook it with her free one. “I’m Jade.” She studied my face; the remaining kittens were looking dangerously interested in jumping out.
“You’re about to lose them,” I said.
“I’ll just set them down. They can’t go far before I catch them. As you can see, they have very short legs.”
I laughed. The kittens were adorable: all three were grays, but only the one in my arms was solid gray. One had a white bib and white paws, and the other had a white ear and white chops, along with a white tip on her tail. “I’ve always loved cats,” I murmured. “We still have two family cats at home. My little brothers named them Woody and Buzz.”
“See, males again,” she said with a contemptuous curl of her lip. “The females get neglected. Maybe because their recovery time is longer after a spaying.” She pointed at the two who were climbing out of the basket. “These ladies are already spayed, by the way. So no expense to you.”
“Where did you get them?”
She shrugged. “My dumb neighbor didn’t spay his cat, and she got pregnant. He didn’t want the kittens, so I took them after they were weaned. The vet at our shelter spayed them for free because she knows me. My mom kept one of the boys, and my acting coach took two more. I figured I’d see if some other actors wanted one.”
The two escapees had suddenly lost their sense of adventure, and sat very close together in the grass, their heads turning rapidly with each new sound. The one on my chest had gone to sleep.
“I’ll take them,” my voice said.
We stared at each other in surprise. I could hear my sister saying, You are such a creature of impulse! It’s going to get you in trouble.
Jade blinked at me. “You’ll take all of them?”
“Yes, all three. They are obviously already bonded.”
She threw a dramatic fist in the air. “Well, all right! Women supporting women.”
“The feminism is strong with this one,” I said in my best Yoda voice.
“You bet,” she said. “I’m president of the Feminist Lens club at my school. We’ve recruited lots of male members to support our cause.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah. Well, this gives me more time in my morning, so I’m going to go bug my mom at work and mooch lots of food.” She knelt down and tucked the two kittens back in the basket.
“Your mom works around food?”
She squinted up at me, tucking a red strand behind her ear. “She owns the Balfour Bakery. I’m Jade Balfour, heiress to the donuts.”
A laugh burst out of me. “You crack me up,” I said.
She stood up and handed me the basket, grinning. “Tell Zana I said hi. She used to work at the bakery till Derek stole her.”
She spoke of Derek with the easy familiarity of an adult. I had seen that before with young actors—the world of the stage was egalitarian, and it ended up shaping the way that they lived in the real world, as well.
“I’ve been enjoying Zana’s food very much,” I said, carefully putting the kitten I was holding back with her sisters.
“Yeah, she’s great. Her daughter is in my homeroom. We hang out together a lot.”
“Oh?” I had forgotten that Zana was married, much less that she had a daughter in high school. Zana looked about thirty to me.
“Yeah. Her name is Eriza. Because Zana’s husband is named Eric, and they combined their names to make hers.”
“Oh, that is lovely.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m going to bolt. Take good care of the girls. I might come and visit them.”
“You’d be more than welcome.”
“I need to visit Hamlet again soon, anyway. Be sure to ask Derek about how he got Hamlet. It’s a funny story.”
That was interesting. “I will!”
“Nice to meet you, Nora.”
“You, too, Jade.” I waved as she made her way back toward the main path. She bent to pick something off the ground and I realized it was a bicycle. I gaped at her as she rode away. How had she gotten three kittens here in an open basket while riding a bicycle?
The kittens had nestled together; perhaps the fresh air had made them tired. “I am very glad I rescued you before you had to ride home that way,” I said.
The fully gray one looked up at me with her wise eyes; her sisters tucked against her, their eyes closed. “I forgot to ask her if you had names,” I said. “Never mind. I want to name you, anyway. Now, how to get you inside?”
I wasn’t sure how Derek would feel about the actors having pets in their rooms, and my sister’s ghostly voice was being proved correct as I considered the various obstacles of suddenly owning three cats. With instinctively surreptitious movements, I walked around to the back of the castle. That distance in itself was a fair morning jaunt. Connie had shown me the “back lawn” on my third day. The gray-brick patio contained a stone fountain, presided over by a naiad carved from white marble. I crept past the trickling water and exchanged a glance with the nymph before I went to the back entrance, an unobtrusive door in the gray edifice. My key would not open this door, but Connie had confided something in me on that day: Derek says he understands people get locked out sometimes. So he hides a key at the back entrance. This is top secret, Nora! No one is to know but castle staff.
She had showed me the loose brickwork at the bottom of the back wall and how one of the bricks had a false bottom in which resided the back door key. I found the key now, unlocked the slightly rusty lock, and put the key back in place. I grabbed my basket of sleeping kittens (even the gray had finally succumbed) and eased my way into the back hall. I flipped the dead bolt behind me, then moved through the shadowy hallway and up some steps to another door, which led to a large foyer, a match to the foyer that stood opposite the front door, which was flanked, in a mirror image of the north entrance, by two stairways that led to the portrait gallery. From this vantage point, it was possible to glimpse the long carpeted hallway that connected the front entrance to the rear one. I heard someone’s footsteps descending from the third floor and voices talking loudly; I assumed the speakers were members of the police. I darted to my right, through a doorway into what Derek called the sunroom, which was essentially a wide porch that curved around with a view of both the east and south lawns. The room was indeed full of morning sun. I realized I could traverse this veranda all the way to its other entrance, in the middle of the main hall, after which I could dart up the middle stairs to my room. Pleased with this plan, I walked past several chaise longues, where suddenly a figure unfolded itself from one of them and loomed before me, making me shout in surprise.
“Hello, Nora.” It was Detective Dashiell, holding one of Zana’s coffee cups.
“Oh, hi. I didn’t think anyone was in here.” I slung the basket to my left side, away from him, and he noted the movement.
“Obviously. And you have a guilty look on your face. What’s in the basket?” His face was neither friendly nor unfriendly; I couldn’t gauge his mood.
“Do you suspect me of something illegal, Detective Dashiell? Do you think this is a basket full of drugs?”
“Dash. Or John.”
“Same question, Dash.” I was glaring a little. My hair had fallen into my face and I brushed it aside with my free hand, impatient.
“I suspect nothing; I am merely curious. I thought this room was a quiet place to have my morning coffee, and instead a woman has burst upon the scene with a mysterious parcel, looking rather desperate.”
“Desperate” was the word. What if the kittens woke up and started mewing? Would it echo through the whole castle, betraying my actions? “Okay, fine. I am guilty. I don’t even know if this is allowed.” I slung the basket forward, almost as careless as Jade had been, and revealed my pile of gray kittens.
Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t that. First he looked utterly blank, then surprised, then almost joyful. “Well, what do you know?” he said. He bent in half to study them more closely and said, “How did you end up with a basket of cats?”
I sighed. “I went out for a walk. There was a girl out there holding the basket, saying she wanted to see if anyone in the castle wanted a kitten. I felt like she was being a little . . . reckless with them. So I took them.”
“Impulsive,” he said, his eyes meeting mine.
“Yes, yes. I always have been. Now I don’t even know what Derek would say. So if it’s not against the law or anything, I am hoping to hide them in my room until I have a plan.”
“Would you like a police escort?” he asked, taking a final gulp of his coffee and putting the cup aside on one of Derek’s antique tables.
“That’s not necessary,” I said. My face grew hot. “I’m sure you have things to do.”
“Yes. And one of them is to ask you a couple of questions about your arrival in this room.”
“What?”
“Let’s walk.” He gestured toward the door, and I strode to it with him close behind. We went back to the main hallway, and I moved to the foot of the stairs.
He pointed down the hall. “My crew has blocked off the hall down there,” he said, gesturing toward the front entrance, “which means that somehow you came in from outdoors and got here without them knowing. How did you do that?”
I felt ridiculously guilty despite my innocence. “Um—I came in the back.”
“I was given to understand that no one has a key to that door except Derek.”
Guilt again. I was not supposed to reveal the location of the hidden key. Connie had practically made me take a blood oath. “Um—”
“Nora?”
The kittens were beginning to wiggle. “I have to get upstairs,” I said. “Let’s keep walking.”
“Fine.”
He marched alongside me, and we began to ascend the first staircase. I said, “When Connie gave me the tour of this place, she said that Derek had a fail-safe for any staff who might inadvertently be locked out.”
“Ah. And what is that method?”
“Under Derek’s instructions, she made me swear not to tell. You would have to ask Derek. But let’s just say that I used that fail-safe to get in with my kittens, in hopes of being undetected. Instead I got nailed by the fuzz.”
His lip twitched, and we turned to climb the third staircase. Finally he said, “That’s pretty old-fashioned slang. Nowadays they call us the heat. Among other things.”
“Duly noted, Detective.”
We were quiet for a while. I peered at the kittens, two of whom were watching us with sage expressions.
My eyes returned to my companion and I saw that he remained in cop mode. He said, “Did you happen to see anyone else use that entrance?”
I shrugged. “No one at the south entrance, no. I came out of the east entrance, and there I just saw Renata taking a morning walk like me.”
“But she had no kittens?” There was a glimmer of humor in his eyes now.
“No. She was free of encumbrances. I told her to be careful—” We reached the top of the stairs and began to walk down the dormitory hallway.
“Careful of what?”
“I had noticed some broken glass on the ground. I meant to bring it in and throw it away, but then I got sidetracked and had to come up with this devious—and exhausting—plan,” I said, winded from our climb. “Anyway, I left it on the windowsill.” I pointed eastward, down the hall. “Huh.”
“What?”
“It’s just—my room looks out onto the woods, but directly under my window is the south lawn. Somewhere down there is the fountain and the back door.”
“Yes.”
“But Garrett’s room down there—” I pointed. “It’s at the end of our hall, and his windows actually face two different lawns—the south and the east. You saw it. He mentioned his amazing view once.”
“Okay. Why is that significant?”
I handed him the basket and dug in my pocket for my key. “I don’t know if it’s significant. I’m just thinking out loud. But remember that his window was open? And I found broken glass on the east lawn. What if it’s right under Garrett’s window? I found some metal, too, or something like silver. Just a piece.”
“So you think it’s a piece of the window?” he asked, scratching the ears of an appreciative kitten. Her purr was still a kitten purr, shaky and uneven.
“The window seemed intact. And the glass that fell was too thin to be window glass. What if someone threw something out of the window? Something that shattered?”
He was interested in this. He pointed the basket at me. “If someone wanted to get rid of something in the room, why not just take it with them? They were gone before you got there, right?”
“Hang on.” I opened my door, took the basket from him, and went into my room. I walked swiftly to the elevated platform and set the basket on the bed. The kittens peered over the side, curious.
Returning to Dashiell, I said, “The thing is—it was very dark. We turned on a light in Garrett’s dorm, but we didn’t walk around. We were nervous, and we went back to Connie’s room to call you.” I pointed at my west wall. “I have that little bathroom and that little kitchenette. I guess Garrett does, too, although I didn’t really study the layout of his space. Someone could have been there.” I shivered and rubbed my arms. “They could have left while we were in Connie’s room.”
He thought about this, staring at his shoes. “Assuming they were downstairs with the rest of you while Derek briefed you, they had very little time to get to Garrett’s room and do their ransacking.”
“They had about ten minutes. Connie and I were talking to Derek, asking if he was okay. Connie was doing most of the talking; I was just standing there.”
He looked up at me. “You were in shock. How are you doing today?” He had a way of focusing on a person when he talked that was both gratifying and discomfiting. He had tamed his hair, and he had shaved, as well, although I noted a spot that he had missed, right near his ear.
“Better,” I said. “Thank you.” I looked back at my bed, where the kittens had found their way out of the basket and walked around on the comforter as though they were exploring the surface of the moon. “Those three will be a nice distraction.”
