The Magician's Assistant
Prologue: The Castle
Summary: When the key to a murder mystery is Effy James, an unusual six year old, Patrick Jane finds his hand full, trying to get answers out of a troubled little mind.
The mansion sat atop a high cliff above the crashing ocean waves, like something completely out of a fairytale. Or perhaps a horror movie was more appropriate, Jane reconsidered, as Lisbon drove past the wrought-iron gate and steered into the narrow dirt road leading up toward the house.
"Jesus, did you ever think a place like this existed in California? Looks like some sort of castle you'd find in the middle of a Scottish moor." Lisbon commented. Jane could see that she was impressed by the massiveness of the building- and the huge forensic investigation it would entail.
"It's built to look like one. But it's not. It's, in fact, fairly new. Somewhere between ten and twenty years, I'd say. Impressive, nonetheless."
Lisbon locked the car, heading toward the house. She ran her hand over the nearest wall.
"Feels like stone to me. Old stone. Hundred ad hundreds of years old stone."
"Oh, yes. The stone is old. The stone was shipped from Europe. Ireland, I'd say. But maybe Scotland. Expensive taste, an admiration of tradition. Who lives here?" He asked, with a tone that plainly spelled out that he had a very good theory.
"Take a guess," Lisbon challenged, knowing the answer was just too unusual to be guessed, even by a former psychic.
"Well, a woman's been murdered, so I'd guess she lived here alone. Very rich, but obviously centered her life on the home. No husband. A child, just one, about five. A girl." Lisbon opened her mouth, her look whizzical, but Jane continued. "She had a flair for theatrics, but she wasn't an actress, or the paparazzi would have swarmed this place. An heiress, I'd guess. Living off a trust fund. An impressive one." He turned to Lisbon with that smug grin.
"How's my guess?"
Lisbon rolled her eyes and began inside.
"She's not five, she's six."