Okay, I know it's kind of long, but give it a chance. Wrote this about four years ago, premise seems a little passe now that Jasper Fforde has started the Nursery Crimes series, but I still like it. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!
Beth :)
I knew it was going to be a hell of a day when I walked into my office and saw a dame lying on my desk in what appeared to be a glass box.
"Gift wrapped and all," I muttered, loosening my already too-tight tie. I put my cheap leatherette briefcase on the filing cabinet nearby and knocked on the glass. "Office hours are ten to three, sweetheart. No exceptions."
She didn't move, didn't even flutter her eyelashes, which should have been my second clue, but I knocked on the glass again. She was a pretty little thing, fair skin and long coal-black hair. Still, she was blocking my desk, and I had some important papers to go over for a case I was working on. I started to unlatch the hooks holding the lid down to try and shake her awake when I heard a gruff voice say, "She can't hear you, Mister."
"Who's there?" I asked, looking around the room, my eyes wild with anticipation. I didn't see anyone, but I wasn't going to take any chances. "Look out! I have a weapon!" My hand was already reaching for my gun when I felt a tug on my trousers and looked down. Standing around my legs were seven of the smallest, hairiest gents I had ever encountered, and I had worked on some pretty strange cases.
"She can't hear you," one of the little guys said. He appeared to be the leader of the group, and wore little round glasses and a black leather trench coat.
I kept my hand on my gun. "Why not?"
"She's dead," he said as the others nodded, their heads bent. I looked at her again, and saw that her fair skin had assumed the pallor of death. I noticed the bluing of her cheeks and lips, and shivered.
"How did she die?" I asked. Another of the men spoke up.
"We were hoping you could tell us, Mr. Galloway. We came home and found her lying on the kitchen floor."
"You disturbed the crime scene?" I asked. "You may have destroyed any evidence that could help with the case."
"Well, we didn't want to, but Tenderheart here insisted." He jabbed his thumb at another of his companions, who blushed a deep red and looked away. "He had a soft spot for the girl and didn't want her to be manhandled by a bunch of rookie cops." He scratched his beard, which was trimmed into a fashionable goatee, and smiled. "To be honest, we were all a little in love with her."
Tenderheart fell to his knees, roughly about the level of my shin, and began weeping. "Please, Mr. Galloway, you're the only one who can help us. Please say you'll take our case." I looked at him making a fool of himself in front of his friends, risking what little machismo he possessed for a girl who probably wouldn't look his way twice, and I couldn't tell him no.
"Fine, but on one condition."
"Name it," Trenchcoat said.
"I want the money up front. I know what it's like working with you types. Last month I helped a leprechaun find a stolen pot of gold, and he paid me with the recovered goods. I didn't know at the time that leprechauns' gold disappears, and by the time I figured it out I was in deep with a pair of lady trolls and that little bastard was halfway to Killarney."
"No problem," he said, and whistled. The remaining four, all wearing identical black double-breasted suits and dark sunglasses, walked forward and set four burlap sacks at my feet. I looked at Trenchcoat, who motioned for me to open one, and reached for a sack. It was incredibly heavy, and peering inside I saw a wealth of jewels.
"I trust that this will cover your fee, Mr. Galloway," he said.
"And then some," I replied, a little agog. Recovering quickly, I put the sacks in my safe. "Now, let's get started. You'll have to take me out to the scene of the crime, and once we're finished there I'll have to interrogate you. Separately," I added, and thought I noticed a few nervous glances.
"No problem," Trenchcoat said. "I'll drive."
An hour later I was sitting in the back of a small van, cramped and crowded behind the seven seats. I'd had to climb in through the hatchback and have the door shut on me, and I was beginning to get a little stir-crazy.
"How much longer am I going to have to sit like this, Trenchcoat?" I asked, trying to feel my legs.
He laughed. "Not much, Mr. Galloway. And please, call me Bruno. I'm not the kind of guy who goes by a nickname."
"Sure thing, Bruno." I tried hard to hold in a snicker. "Do the rest of you have names, or should I just refer to you by number?"
"I'm Mack," the one with the goatee said. He pointed to the one he had called Tenderheart. "That's Gary, and those four," he said, pointing to the suited men, "are Rex, Angus, Alfie, and Phil." He must have seen me smile, because he got a little huffy. "What's so funny?"
"I'm sorry, Mack. It's just that…your names…"
"Listen, Galloway, just because we're small doesn't mean we're going to have names like Skippy or Ralph. That's a misconception perpetrated by the media, and I for one am sick of it."
"I apologize, sirs," I said, and made sure to turn my face away before I smiled again.
After about another twenty minutes the van stopped, and Mack hopped out to open the hatchback. I practically fell to the ground, and just stood there a moment to regain the feeling in my arms and legs. When I finally looked around, I saw that we were parked in front of a lovely little cottage, looking like something you might see in a theme park. It was quite a pastoral setting, but just the same you could sense that something horrible had taken place there.
"Come on," Bruno said, and started walking toward the cottage. I followed him, and the others followed me. They were creeping me out a little, to be honest, what with the suits and the tight-lipped henchmen, but I allowed myself to trust them.
Bruno opened the door and I walked inside. There was nothing there that lent itself to a crime scene. The place was spotless, not even a hint of dust. Nothing had been knocked over or broken, and there was absolutely no trace of blood. It was more than a little unnerving.
"Who found her?" I asked, walking in further.
"I did," Mack said.
"Where was the body?" Gary cringed a bit at the word.
"Over by the kitchen window," Mack said, and I got on my hands and knees and crawled over toward the area he had indicated, willing my bloodhound streak to show itself. There was no trace of anything on the floor, and nothing--wait! I crawled over to the sink and saw an apple lying on the floor, hidden by the lip of the cabinets. I put on a rubber glove I took from my pocket and picked it up, noticing it had a bite missing from it.
"Does this belong to any of you?" I asked, standing.
"No," they chorused. "We didn't keep fruit in the house. Sonora hated fruit, so when she moved in, we stopped eating it," Angus said, speaking for the first time.
"Was that her name, Sonora?" I asked. "It's very nice."
"That was what we called her," Bruno said, shrugging.
"So we've got a Jane Doe on our hands then? This could be a very interesting case, gentlemen. Very interesting." I put the apple in a plastic bag taken from the other pocket and removed the glove. "I think I've seen all I need to see here for now," I said. "Let's go to my office for some questioning." I didn't relish the ride back.
Back at my office, I decided to bring in some help. If my suspicions were correct, I knew how the girl died, but it seemed too easy. I picked up the phone and dialed the only person I knew could help me. It rang several times and I was about to hang up when I heard a voice calling "Hello? Hello?"
"Need a challenge?" I asked, tossing the bagged apple in the air and catching it.
"Are you kidding? How's it going, Nick?"
"Fine, fine. Listen, Rox, I've got a helluva case here. Think you can help me out? I'd make it worth your while."
"Dinner and dancing at The Four and Twenty Blackbirds?" she asked, and laughed halfheartedly.
"Better," I said.
"I'm always at your beck and call, Nick. Anything for a friend."
"I'll be at the lab in twenty minutes or so with the evidence. Oh, and Rox, do you have a room I can use for interrogation purposes?" I asked, knowing the answer. "My office is always open," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
"Rox, you're too good to me."
"Cut the small talk and get over here, Galloway." She hung up and I smiled, though it was slightly bitter. Roxanne de Milo was a great woman, both professionally and personally. However, she had gotten married years before we met, and though it wasn't a happy marriage she was standing by him, especially now that he had been indicted as the mastermind of a large pig-stealing syndicate.
"Well boys, let's get the lady out to the van. She's taking a little trip." They looked at each other again, seemingly nervous, but each picked up a handle on the box and carried her toward the door. They were obviously straining under the weight, but not one of them made a noise as they went down the steps.
One of the seats in the van had to be removed to accommodate the box, so I offered Gary a ride in my car. If I was going to get anything from these guys, I had a feeling he might be the key. He looked to Mack and Bruno as if for permission, and they nodded.
"Great! Gary, you get in the back and the rest of you can follow me," I said, opening the door.
"Why the back, Mr. Galloway?" he asked, his tiny red brows furrowed.
"Safety laws, Gary, safety laws." The truth was that I wanted to see his face as I asked him about the girl, but the fact that there was all that stuff about shorter people riding in the back in the event of an accident made a nice cover. I got in the front, buckled my seat belt, and we were off.
I turned on the radio. "Any preference of music, Gary?"
"Anything with harps or lutes is fine," he said, wiping a fine sheen of sweat from his brow.
"This will do nicely," I said, stopping the dial on a classic rock station. He raised a finely shaped eyebrow and looked out the window. "So Gary, where did you meet this girl?"
"I know why you're doing this," he said, sounding annoyed.
"Oh yeah? Why is that?" I looked at him in the mirror.
"You're trying to get me to crack, to tell you something that I know nothing of."
"Well actually, Gary, I'm trying to solve this case for you and I think it would probably be much easier if we knew who she was. But if you want to crack, feel free." He appeared to think it over and decided maybe I was telling the truth. I wasn't.
"We didn't really meet her, so to speak. She came to us."
"What do you mean by 'came to us'? Was she in a package? Was she delivered in that box?"
"Funny, Mr. Galloway, but no. We came home from work one day and there she was, cleaning the house, making the beds…all that domestic stuff you don't really have time to do when you're digging in a mine ten hours a day. We didn't know who she was or where she came from, but we weren't about to turn her away."
"Not when you're getting free maid service, right?" I winked at him in the mirror and he thrust forward, pulling tight against the seatbelt.
"That wasn't it at all. She was so nice, and so pretty…we weren't going to send her out into the woods alone. There are wild animals out there, and she didn't know a thing about nature. She could have stumbled across a wolf's lair, or poisonous berries, or-"
"Or your precious mines," I interrupted.
"Well yes, I suppose so. But we never kept what we did a secret, and she didn't seem to care." He took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. "Hope you don't mind." I shook my head and cracked the window.
"So this girl, she never told you her name? Not once? It never slipped out in conversation?"
"What don't you understand? Not once. It was like she couldn't remember…or she wanted to forget. When we would ask her about her life before she came to live with us, she would always get this blank look on her face. Eventually she would come out of it and tell us that it didn't matter who she was before, she was happy being our Sonora."
"That was a sweet thing to say."
"You don't know the half of it, honey," he said, flicking his ash for emphasis. I decided to let that one go and we rode in silence for a few blocks. "She used to talk in her sleep, though," he finally said.
"Anything intelligible?"
"Something about 'the fairest of them all'. I never understood what that meant, but she would start thrashing and kicking after she said it. One of us usually had to stand guard by her bed every night, just to make sure she didn't hurt herself."
"I bet you liked that job, eh?" I winked again.
"I got a lot of reading done," he replied, and looked out the window again. It seemed I had misjudged Gary after all. 'Tenderheart' was a misnomer.
We pulled up in front of Rox's office and I stopped the car. "Thanks for the chat, Galloway," he said, unbuckling his belt. "Hope it helped." He hopped out of the car and threw his cigarette on the ground before walking back to help his friends get the girl from the van. I had a feeling this had been the easy interrogation, and all I could hope for was that Rox could work her magic.
We were greeted by no small amount of stares and gasps as we walked through the building, a low-slung one-level that encompassed an entire city block. Lucky for the guys, Rox's lab was only a few doors down from the entrance.
The door was, as she said, open, and we started straight in. As they guided the box through the doorway, however, Phil dropped his handle. Apparently he had been toting much of the weight himself, because the back end fell to the floor. I waited for the box to shatter and its contents to be sliced to ribbons, but the glass was extraordinarily resilient. One of the latches popped open though, and her hand slipped out. Gary nearly choked and turned his head away as Phil pushed it back inside. Rox walked out of her office as he latched it tight, her expression difficult to read.
"What the hell do we have here, a china doll?" she asked, peering closely at the glass.
"Cute," Bruno said, his nostrils flaring.
"Bring her over here," she said, walking toward an exam table. "I'm going to have to take her out of that case if that's all right." The guys looked at each other and finally Bruno and Mack nodded their assent. "Do you boys know what an autopsy is?"
"You're not cutting her up!" Gary yelled, lunging toward the box. I put a hand on his shoulder.
"That's enough, Roxanne." She narrowed her eyes at my use of her formal name, and I countered with a stern expression. "Just get a blood sample, fingerprints, dental x-rays, anything we can use to identify her." The girl was, as I said, very pretty, and I didn't want to think about her being hacked to bits, internal organs in a cold metal scale.
"Okay, Nick. No problem." Her sudden coolness told me we would be having a major 'discussion' later, wherein I would accuse her of being childish and cruel, and she would call me an overly sensitive jerk and tell me to take some hormones. Good times.
I tossed her the bag containing the apple. "See what you can find out from this, too. I'm going to start my interrogations." She caught the apple and jerked her thumb at the office. I rolled my eyes and looked at the guys. "Well Phil, it looks like today is your lucky day. Please make your way to that office over there, and the rest of you can have a seat out there." I pointed to a bench in the hallway outside the lab. "I'll call you when I want you."
"Don't you dare cut her while I'm gone, lady, or you'll wish you hadn't."
"Enough, Gary. Get out there on that bench or I'll pick you up by that fancy collar of yours and put you on it." His shoulders slumped and he followed the others out to the hallway. I closed the door behind them and looked back to Rox, who was trying to suppress a laugh.
"Don't let them see you doing that," I said. "She means a lot to them."
"As you wish, my most beloved king of Fairyland." She bowed low and giggled, like she was one to talk.
"Hey Rox."
"Yes, my liege?"
"Stuff it." I made a very crude hand gesture and walked into her office. Phil was sitting behind the desk with his feet up, grinning.
"Feet down, other chair. Move it." The smile quickly faded from his lips, replaced by a scowl.
"You're wasting your time with me, Galloway. I don't know anything about the girl." He straightened his cufflinks as he sat, jeweled of course.
"Well, maybe that's true, Phil. But you're going to have to prove it by me." I paused for effect. "Or don't you think Mack and Bruno would approve?" I raised an eyebrow and gave him what I hoped was a smarmy grin. "They are the leaders of this little outfit, are they not?" He shrugged his shoulders and looked away. I decided to go for it--it was probably the only method he understood.
"I want you to tell me everything you know about the girl. Everything from the day she showed up to the day she croaked." I let that sink in for a bit and then added, "I hope we understand each other."
"Perfectly, Mr. Galloway." He cleared his throat, and rubbing his left cufflink, began to speak.
"It was the middle of the week, Thursday, I think, and we had been in the mines for a few extra hours that day. Rex and Angus had discovered a trove of diamonds, almost like a wall, really, and we had been trying to decide the best method for mining them. Gary had gotten his masters in engineering a few years back and was talking about building some kind of steel excavating contraption, but Alfie and Angus, both expert geologists, disagreed. They also shot down Mack and Bruno's suggestion of blasting the wall into fragments, though diamond dust is becoming a hot commodity with the younger set.
"We had arrived at an impasse, so we decided to go home, have some dinner, and sleep on it. I was going to pop a couple of TV dinners in the oven, and we were going to settle down in front of the tube. There was an episode of 'When Ogres Attack' on that night, and we knew a guy who was going to be featured. Gary, Rex and I usually called him for a game of doubles tennis a couple times a month, lovely fellow. Portrayed as a monster he was, and he only killed a handful of tourists--"
"Phil." He laughed.
"Sorry. Anyway, when we walked in there was a home-cooked meal on the table and some strange girl ironing our jockey shorts. We were a little nervous at first, but she seemed harmless. Strange, maybe, but harmless.
"We accepted her because she had nowhere to go, and I won't lie--it was nice to have a woman around the house. She cooked for us, cleaned, did our laundry…it was nice. Sometimes she acted strangely, and she would often cry out and thrash in her sleep, but a few torn coverlets are nothing when compared to the value of a good woman. Every day was the same: we woke to breakfast, she packed our lunches and sent us to work, and we came home to a clean house and dinner on the table. Then a few days ago we came home and the breakfast dishes weren't cleared, a sure sign that something was wrong. We walked in a little further and there she was, lying face-down on the floor. We tried to revive her, but she was unresponsive…" he trailed off. "Eventually we just gave up. She was gone, and after so brief a time with us."
"She's incredibly well-preserved for a days-old corpse," I said, and wished I hadn't.
"It's the coffin, sir. That's the secret." I nodded, but didn't press the issue.
"Can you tell me anything she said in her sleep? Anything at all?"
"It was mostly unintelligible, but I often heard her say 'Raoul'. I don't know what it meant, and I never ventured to ask her, but that's certainly no lady's name."
"No lady I've met," I agreed. "Have you ever heard her say the phrase 'the fairest of them all'?"
"Once. The night she shattered the wall mirror. Her hands were cut so badly…we removed all the mirrors in the house after that."
"Did you ever ask her about it? Ever try to contact anyone about her?"
"Mr. Galloway, if you had lived your life in hard loneliness like we have, would you want to give up the best thing that ever walked into it?" His eyes shone in earnest, and he swallowed hard.
"I guess not, Phil." I looked down at the desk. "I think we're finished here. Send in Angus when you walk out."
"Mr. Galloway, even if you can't help us, thank you for trying."
I spent the next hour and a half interrogating the rest of the men, and they all gave me pretty much the same story, though I tried to trip them up. I didn't think they were lying, but I wanted to be sure. At the end of my last interview, I followed Bruno into the lab. Rox was standing there amidst the guys with some printouts in her hand, and as I walked closer, she held one up. It was a picture of the girl, and no mistake.
"Gentlemen," she said, "this is no ordinary runaway. We have a dead princess on our hands."
"A princess?" we said, a sad and surprised chorus.
"Her Royal Highness Amandie, Princess of Baix, affectionately known as Snow White due to her fair complexion."
"Are you sure?" I asked, looking down at the body.
"I've run both her fingerprints and her dental x-rays, Nick. Both came back positive, especially since it seems the future queen had a serious overbite which required several orthodontic treatments to transform her into the cold blue beauty before us."
"Rox, don't be crude," I said, giving her a sharp look.
"Sorry," she said. "Sick sense of humor."
"I guess we should contact her family," I said, and started toward the door. "Wait--what about the apple?"
She held up a brown slimy chunk with a pair of tweezers. "I removed this from the vic's throat. Now here's where it gets interesting. At first glance it appeared she had just choked on it. However, when I analyzed the bite I found a trace of poison. The apple itself had more than just a trace--the damn thing was shot full. Poison, narcotics, and preservatives. Someone wanted to make sure she was dead."
There were a few gasps of horror. I looked at the guys, who put their hands up. "We had nothing to do with this, Mr. Galloway. You know that," Phil said.
"Maybe you should talk to her family, Nick. They may have some insight, know of any enemies, that sort of thing." Rox looked down into the box and shook her head.
"All she has left is that stepmother, right? Didn't the king die a few years back?"
"Yes, but I think the queen had a kid or two. I don't really keep up with current events of the royal nature." She ran her hand over the glass. "So young." There was an awkward moment of silence, and I had to break it.
"Well kids, I guess it's off to the palace then. You guys stay here with Rox and I'll be back in a little while." She furrowed her brows, but I gave her a pleading look. The last thing I needed was a bunch of emotional dwarves on hand when I was trying to question someone.
"I'll walk you out then, Nick," Rox said, and put the apple down. I held out my arm and we walked into the hall.
"What's on your mind?" I asked once we were a safe distance away.
"I had a look at the coffin."
"It's a box," I said, and was bewildered by my sudden need to remove the association of death.
"Coffin, box, whatever. What I'm trying to say is that it's priceless."
"Because of its anti-decay powers?" I was confused. "If you want you can ask the guys how they made it while I'm gone. Maybe you could go into business together, quit the lab, become a rich recluse. Might be good for your marriage."
"Don't be smart, Nick."
"What is it then?"
"Have you ever heard the phrase 'Diamonds are a girl's best friend'?"
I looked at her, eyes wide. "Are you telling me…" She nodded and I had to clutch at the wall. "No wonder the damn thing didn't shatter when they dumped it. God, I wonder how many carats it is?"
"I think what you should be thinking is that there is no way they can be tied to this, Nick. You don't kill someone and put them in a trillion-dollar casket. I think this completely eliminates them."
"They were already clear in my book anyway, Rox." I shook my head. "Damn." An appropriate pause later I was in the car headed for Baix Palace.
It had been an uneventful drive out of the city toward the kingdom of Baix, but as I drew closer I noticed a definite change in the atmosphere. People stared at me as I drove by, their eyes empty. They looked like prisoners, devoid of all hope or happiness. Not a single one of them smiled, not even the children. Baix was not looking to be the 'Happiness Kingdom of the World' as was so often advertised in the weeklies.
As I reached the palace I noticed the front gate was made of reinforced steel, and the perimeter of the castle yard was heavily fortified with barbed wire and thick cement block walls. There was a team of guards in flak jackets standing in front of that, and one of them, a big burly thug, stopped me as I pulled up and demanded my name.
"Officer Nick Galloway." I flashed my old police badge. "I'm here to speak to the queen about her stepdaughter, Amandie." I gave him the badge and smiled, getting a smirk in return. He spoke briefly into a walkie-talkie and then nodded to the man inside the gatehouse. The steel door opened, and as I eased my car inside I saw the inner wall was as heavily guarded as the outer wall, unease mushrooming in my stomach. I pulled into one of the parking lots, where I was quickly met by an escort.
"Hello, Mr. Galloway, I'm Raoul. Queen Graziela asked me to meet you and bring you before the court."
"Usually I'm the one who does that," I joked, hoping for a laugh. "What did you say your name was?"
"Raoul, sir. Raoul de Montaillon." He put his hand on my back and smiled again. "Come with me."
I stepped away from his touch, but followed easily enough. As I watched the muscles ripple on his back while we walked, I thought of Amandie. Phil had told me she often cried a name in her sleep. His name. Raoul.
The castle was sumptuous, decorated with lush fabrics and rich wood furniture. Paintings and tapestries practically polka-dotted the walls, and the floors were maple with a mahogany inlay. Interior decorators everywhere would have been wetting their pants at the sight of such opulence.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Raoul asked, seeing my awe.
"Yes, certainly a contrast to the queen's taste in landscaping."
"That is a necessity, sir, not a choice," he grumbled as he thrust open a set of double doors lavishly embellished with serpents. I followed him inside and found myself immediately in front of the queen and her court.
"Mr. Galloway, I presume," she said, and her voice was like cold fire. The queen's long red hair was coiled, nestling in the center of her gilded crown, and her green eyes glinted with malicious intent, full red lips curled in a sneer. Graziela was a beautiful woman, and any man could have seen why the king had been so taken by her. Only some could see the venomous snake within.
"In the flesh," I said, not bothering to scrape and bow.
"Charming. To what does my court owe the pleasure of your visit?" She gestured to the others sitting at each side of her throne, a young woman with her mother's coloring and a dark-haired young man, possibly a year or two older than Amandie. He wore his mother's same smug expression, and I returned it with equal fervor.
"I am here to inquire about your stepdaughter Amandie, the royal princess of Baix." Her face briefly ran red at the mention, but she resumed her coolness with the speed of a cheetah.
"What of her?"
"For starters, I was wondering why you hadn't reported her missing. There have been reports that she hasn't been seen in Baix for nearly three months."
The queen laughed. "I wasn't aware that she was missing, Mr. Galloway. She came to me one day, we had a fight, and she left. There was a letter on her bed, and I haven't seen her since. I guess that would have been about three months ago, in keeping with the stories."
"May I see this letter?"
"Certainly. Raoul?" He was standing behind me, ready to strike of necessary. "Please retrieve the note from my bureau."
"Yes, your majesty." He bowed and walked away, and I noticed a slight tremble in his strong shoulders.
"May I take private counsel with you, Queen Graziela?" I asked, this time forcing a bow.
"You mean may you question me? Of course, Mr. Galloway. I have nothing to hide." She motioned to her children and they approached her. She kissed them both on their foreheads, and as they walked away the boy gave me a look that chilled me to the bone. Raoul quickly returned with the note, and the queen dismissed him as well, though he looked at her with some concern as he left.
"May I take this back to the lab?" I asked, half-expecting her to say no.
"Of course. I told you I have nothing to hide." She patted the throne vacated by her son. "Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?"
I could sense her trying to draw me closer to her, but I remained fixed in my place. "What was your relationship with Princess Amandie, Queen Graziela?"
"Well to be honest, Nick--may I call you Nick?"
"I would prefer you didn't," I replied, and her color rose again.
"As I was saying, to be honest, Amandie and I never got along. I married her father when she was still young, but she still resented me. I often told her that I could never take the place in her heart that was reserved for her mother, but that I hoped to fill a new place."
"That was very sweet of you," I said, and fought the urge to gag.
"I can be such when the mood strikes me, or when I feel something strongly. I cared deeply for Amandie, as much as I care for Mireille and Lucas." She touched her hand to her breast in a gesture of sincerity. I felt it was only just.
"What did her father think of this?"
"Bertrand often counseled his daughter, begging her to accept me in the role of if not mother, at least friend and mentor. It was I who would have to instruct her in the customs and rituals of court life, and he saw it better to have a friend than an enemy in such close quarters."
"How did Amandie react?"
"She was clearly upset, and accused me of brainwashing him. She told Bertrand that I had enchanted him somehow, as if such a thing could be true. I mean, do I look like a witch?" She laughed, but it died upon her lips when I didn't join her.
"I'm here to find facts, not make assumptions, Queen."
"It seems you already have, sir." We eyed each other for a moment before I proceeded.
"On the day you say Amandie left home, you had a fight. What was this fight about?"
"Oh, one of those silly things mothers and stepdaughters fight about. She wanted to have more control over the running of the kingdom and I told her that she wasn't ready yet, that the court advisors recommended she wait one more year. She accused me of trying to set the throne aside for Lucas, or better yet, to usurp it myself."
"And?"
"That was just not the case, sir. To entrust the running of an entire kingdom to a girl of barely twenty years? Madness!" She slammed a fist on the arm of her throne.
"There have been greater kingdoms given to the rule of less," I said, and she eyed me with contempt.
"Do not underestimate the power of Baix, Mr. Galloway. It could be a sad mistake."
"Are you threatening me, Queen Graziela?" I gave her my own icy stare.
"I'm just advising you, Mr. Galloway. I can make it very uncomfortable for you on the police force." Her face seemed to shift a bit, so I changed the subject.
"I didn't come here for a show of power, your majesty. Now, in this note it says that Amandie was heading for Ivy Glen. Where is that located?"
"It is the home of her aunt, Bertrand's sister. Ivy Glen is about twenty miles east of here, give or take."
"You never received correspondence from her? Never sent a messenger to see if she arrived safely?"
"The thought of her safety never crossed my mind," she said. "Are you quite finished yet? I'm growing tired." She did in fact look more worn than she had when I came in, but I wasn't sure whether it was from physical exhaustion or fatigue brought on from keeping her story straight.
"One more question and I shall go. How was the relationship between Amandie and your own children?"
"She adored Mireille. They were as close as if they had shared the same womb. However, Amandie and Lucas never got along from the moment they met. She thought him spoiled, hard, and selfish, and he thought the same of her. Their personalities were just too different."
"Interesting," I said, scratching my chin while trying to assume a pose of reverence. "Queen Graziela, thank you for your time. The force appreciates it." I gave her a bright smile and bowed again.
"I am happy to help. You may see your own way out." She stood, waved her hand, and walked out through a side door.
"Scurry off to your hole, you rat," I muttered, and turned to exit.
"You leave my mother alone, sir." I was face to face with Lucas, all six feet five inches of him. "Leave her alone or I will make sure you do."
"It's not smart to threaten a police officer, Lucas."
"Or to impersonate one," he said, and stalked away. Damn.
I walked to my car without my bulky shadow and drove through the gate. They waved me through, smiles on their faces, and I was sure Graziela had told them to give me every courtesy in hopes that it might cover the sinister feeling of the court. I waved back as I drove away, and it was a few miles before I felt like I could breathe again. Until something huge popped up in my backseat and nearly ran me off the road, anyway.
"Raoul!"
"Relax, Mr. Galloway, I'm not here to hurt you. Please, I must see my Amandie."
"Your Amandie?" I asked, and was suddenly afraid to answer for fear he might decide to wreak his vengeance on me. "If I tell you, do you promise not to hurt me?" I finally said, hunching down in the seat to avoid a possible blow.
"I promise. I just want to know where she is, if she's safe. I want to see her."
I took a deep breath. "Raoul, Amandie…she never made it to Ivy Glen. She's dead." The look on his face nearly rent my battle-scarred heart to shreds, and he began weeping.
"That bitch!" he screamed, causing me and the car to jump again. "She told me no harm would come to her, that Amandie would be safe as long as I…that bitch!" I could only assume he meant Graziela.
"Is there something you need to tell me?" I asked when he had calmed down a bit.
"You're damn right there is. That bitch Graziela killed her! She wanted me to do it, but I wouldn't. I couldn't, I loved her. Graziela wanted me, she was tired of being second-best. She had this mirror…every day she asked it who the prettiest woman in all the land was, and every day the same answer came: Amandie." He wiped his eyes and nose with his sleeve and sniffed.
"Graziela couldn't stand that her stepdaughter had me, and especially that she had the beauty. She ordered me to take her deep into the woods and kill her, or she would have me on the rack."
"They still make those?" I asked, thinking aloud, and he looked at me with flared nostrils. "Sorry, bad timing."
"I figured out a way to save us both--I would take Amandie to the woods near a cottage so she could find help and a home, and I would suffer as the lover of her stepmother, yet revel in the knowledge that she was safe."
"You don't even see this kind of stuff on TV," I said, the brain-mouth connection not quite working as I wanted it to. "Then what?"
"I thought I took her far enough, but when Graziela asked that damned mirror who the fairest in the land was, it answered Amandie. Instead of killing me, Graziela told me she was going to kill Amandie and bring back her heart as proof that she had finished the job I couldn't do. She put me in a cell and had guards stand outside with orders to kill me if I tried to escape."
"But Amandie was found intact, Raoul."
"She told me she was interrupted, so she brought me a lock of her hair instead." He sighed. "Mr. Galloway, Graziela…she's a witch. She can change at will, she has an extensive knowledge of poisons. She changed into an old peddler woman and set off with an apple loaded like a time bomb." I slammed on the brakes and he smashed into the back seat.
"She did kill her! I knew it!" I honked the horn with joy. "But how are we going to prove it?" Sudden happiness lapsed into defeat.
"Will you take me to her?" he asked. "All I care about right now is seeing her face."
"As you wish, I replied, and pulled back into traffic. "But be warned, Raoul. She won't look the same in death as she did in life." 'And you may have to fight off a small army,' I said to myself.
We practically ran into the building after I parked the car, and I stopped him short of Rox's door. "Remember what I said, Raoul. She won't be the same."
"I'm ready, Nick." He took a deep breath and I opened the door. Rox and the guys were playing poker, and it looked like she had fleeced them out of several of their jewels. She looked at me as if to ask who the big guy was, and I held up a hand. Raoul finally saw the box and walked over to it. His step was measured, careful, and when he put his hand upon the lid he began crying, huge wrenching sobs that shook his whole body.
I walked over to where Rox and the guys were sitting. "Her boyfriend," I whispered, and while a few of them bristled, they remained silent. They knew what it was like to love her.
Suddenly Raoul began opening all the latches. "Raoul, don't!" I ran to stop him and he pushed me away.
"I want to kiss her one more time, Nick. Please." Hesitating a bit, I backed off, and he opened the lid. He bent down slowly, tears streaming down his face. "Oh, Amandie. I loved you." His lips touched hers, and he pulled away slowly. I put my hand upon his shoulder, and we both stood there looking down upon her beautiful face. For a minute, I thought I saw her move, but knew it was only my foolish hopefulness as we turned away.
"Take me to the police, Nick. I want to tell them everything." I looked from him to Rox, knowing he would probably do time himself as an accomplice, and saw her eyes were wide in shock.
"What?" I asked, afraid that Graziela or Lucas had followed us, and she pointed behind us. Great. Raoul and I turned in one swift motion and saw Amandie sitting up in the box, her eyes wide open and smiling.
"I knew you would find me, my love," she said, and Raoul ran to her, lifting her from the box and kissing her, his tears suddenly of joy. It was the third time that day I was nearly reduced to tears. I really had to cut that out.
Amandie noticed then that the little guys were there, and stepping away from Raoul held out her arms. All of them, as tough as they made themselves out to be, ran to her embrace, and it reminded me of a mother with her children. I gave everyone a few happy moments, even clasping Roxanne around the waist, and then snapped them back to reality.
"Who wants to help me catch Graziela?" The offers were resounding, but fate had one more surprise to deal us. I called my office to get my messages, having been short of money for a secretary for almost a decade, and Graziela's voice was on my machine.
"Mr. Galloway, I've come across some evidence that will help point you to my stepdaughter's whereabouts. Call again, this evening would be best." Short, but not now as sweet. I was sure she knew that I was aware she was lying, and by now had probably learned of Raoul's desertion, but she hadn't counted on one thing: I had Amandie.
I called the palace and made my appointment with the queen, but told her I would come on one condition: she allow my partner to accompany me. I knew she would have no problem with it, after all she practically had an army to protect her alone, not to mention Lucas shooting daggers at every man to enter the throne room. Rox, who had been a makeup artist before she got her degree in forensics, took Amandie into her office and helped her with a disguise while the boys and I rounded up some extra weapons, just in case.
The guys gave me some special silver and titanium hybrid bullets as well as some diamond-tipped arrows and a pocket crossbow. "You guys should get out of mining and go into the arms industry," I joked.
Gary looked at me, his expression grave. "Our weapons are for protection, Mr. Galloway, nothing more. It is only because of the girl we give them to you now."
"Bad time for jokes, eh?" The silence was deafening. "Okay then. I'll go see if Amandie is ready." I walked back inside and found Rox sitting on a table swinging her legs.
"So, where's the princess?"
"I am the princess," she said, and smiled. Rox stood up from behind the table and there was an audible gasp. Amandie was almost her exact double. Had it not been for the leathers and the bitch boots, I'd never have known it wasn't her. This was going to be fun.
I was granted immediate access to the castle upon my return, all burly thugs hidden from view. I took it as a bad sign, but Amandie walked right into the palace, all trepidation washed away.
Graziela sat once again on the throne, her children flanking her. Lucas eyed me coldly, but I ignored him. "We meet once again," Graziela said, smiling her serpent's smile.
"So we do. This is my partner, Roxanne de Milo. You said you had some evidence to present me with?"
"You certainly aren't beating around the bush, are you?" she said, and flashed teeth. "I haven't even spoken to your lovely partner yet."
"Good afternoon, your majesty. I trust you are well," Amandie said, her voice low and throaty.
"Thank you, my dear, yes. I swear, these men folk have no idea how to have a proper conversation. Why--"
"The evidence, your majesty." Her eyes narrowed slightly, but her expression remained jolly.
"Of course. Follow me." She stood and began walking toward the side door.
"Only if these two stay here," I said, indicating Mireille and Lucas.
"Indeed," she said, and nodded her head. I could have sworn Lucas' lip curled, but he and his sister remained seated. I didn't fear Mireille--she seemed innocent enough--but Lucas was another story. Amandie followed the queen through the door, and I could feel his eyes burning a hole in my back.
The room beyond the throne room was revealed to be a laboratory of sorts. There were several suspicious-looking vials and contraptions lying on the tables, and shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls.
"Where's her grimoire?" I whispered to Amandie, and she grinned.
"Here," Graziela said, turning to us. She held out a piece of paper that looked to be another note.
" 'Dear Graziela, Lucas, and Mireille: I am well here in Ivy Glen. Aunt Belis has asked me to stay for some time, and I am enjoying myself so much that I cannot resist her offer. Please send the following things…'." I trailed off, reading the rest of the forgery in silence.
"She sent this as well." Graziela held out what appeared to be a photograph of a blurry dark-haired person with another blurry person in front of a blurry building that might have been a house but looked more like a privy.
"Ah yes, I can see how this proves she is there," I said, just a hint below sarcasm. I only stopped myself because I saw something behind Graziela on the wall: a mirror with a face that wasn't one of ours. "That's an interesting piece."
She turned, surprised. "Oh, that? It's a family heirloom. It's supposed to be a magic mirror, but I've never known it to do anything as such." She strained her voice, and if I hadn't already known, I'd have known then that she was lying.
"Can I try it?" Amandie asked, cutting in.
"You can talk to it till you're blue in the face, dearie," Graziela said. "It only provides cheap flattery."
"A girl can use that now and then," she said, and stepped forward. "Do I have to say anything special?"
"No, whatever you want." Graziela tried to act nonchalant, but I could see she was struggling. There was a chance the girl wouldn't say anything remotely close to the right words, but there was also the slightest chance that she might.
Amandie took a deep breath. "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" Graziela immediately blanched, but still had that one hidden bit of knowledge: the girl was dead.
"As time is measured by grains of sand, Amandie de Baix is fairest in the land," the mirror face said. The queen's eyes nearly popped from her head and she ran to the mirror, shoving the girl out of the way.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" Her voice was a mixture of anger and agony.
"I just told you, Queenie. Amandie is a babe." The mirror winked at her.
"That's impossible! Are you sure?"
"Quite," the mirror said.
"No, the girl is dead! I killed her myself!" Graziela took the mirror from the wall and threw it to the floor. Her hair was in wild disarray, she was heaving and panting, and as I watched, her face shifted into its true form. Haggard and drawn, the queen stood before us in all her glory.
"Where is she?" she hissed, clutching my arm. "I killed her, Galloway. I watched the poison seep into her veins and kill her."
A bright light filled the room, and shielding my eyes, I watched as Amandie returned to her former radiance by the grace of something more than witchery. Her hair grew long and black, her blue eyes shone with the light of a million stars, and when she smiled it was with a radiance I had never seen. Graziela screamed as of in agony and charged toward the girl. I tackled her, landing amidst the shards of broken glass as the door came crashing in and half of the police force stood there with weapons drawn.
"On time as usual," I muttered, but breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Another happy ending on the books.
The next morning I woke early and went straight to my office. I still hadn't gone over anything for that case I had been working on, and this was not the type of client you wanted to piss off: large with sharp, pointy teeth. I opened the door and started to walk in.
"Hello, Mr. Galloway. I've heard from some friends of mine that you might be able to help me find someone." It was a tall, handsome boy, quite charming, actually.
"What do you need?"
He held up a shoe. "I need to find the girl who owns this."
I smiled. "Well, I do love a challenge."