When the tour was finished and they had returned, Ichabod met Katrina in front of the hotel. She was sitting on the grass, pretty as a picture, her sketch book on her lap. As he came closer he could see her drawing, it was of the hotel.
The details of the cobblestone structure were beautifully captured in the lines of her work. Each window and doorway and portion of the thatched roof was careful accounted for, drawn with confident pulls of the pencil. It was quite lovely. There was however, something sincere in the way the sun threw a long, deep shadow of the building.
There was also something strange about the portrait that had caught Ichabod eye. It must have also come to the attention of the hotel manager, who had appeared behind them, because he said; "You've made a mistake."
There was a middle-aged couple and a young woman of about Katrina's age, sitting together on a bench in front of the hotel.
The older woman called out; "Don't you be so rude Mr White!"
"Yes," added the young woman. "We've all taken a look at it and think it's simply wonderful."
It was the man's turn to have his say; "Don't you listen to him Katrina, he's an old fool!"
Mr White's cheeks turned scarlet.
"I didn't say it wasn't a good drawing," he grumbled. "I said she's made a mistake."
"Show me," Katrina said in interest, holding the picture up so that her error could be pointed out.
"It's nothing really," Ichabod assured her. "Not worth mentioning at all."
The manager gave a grunt.
"Show me, Ichabod," Katrina pressed, her voice light and even.
Clearly she had taken no offence to what Mr White had said, and so Ichabod decided not to either.
He knelt on the grass beside her and indicated with a long, slender finger.
"Just here dear," he said. "See? You've drawn some kind of a hatch, or a trap door, but there isn't one."
He pointed to the hotel, to the place where the opening should have been, but instead there was only solid stone.
"Oh," Katrina said, her eyes narrowing as she looked. "I was sure… I must have made a mistake after all; how strange."
"It's still a beautiful drawing," the young woman on the bench said.
"Yes, it artist license," the man added. "Sometimes the imagination takes over and changes reality for the better."
Mr White rolled his eyes, he had clearly had enough.
"Thank you Mr Robinson," he said. "Thank you for enlightening us all. Now you," he turned to Ichabod, "I want a word with you."
Mr White stomped back into the hotel and Ichabod followed.
"Where's your son?" Mr White asked.
"He's not my son," Ichabod replied. "He's Masbeth, my trusted apprentice, and he went with horseman to tie up the horses. I would have helped, but I'm not good with them."
"Not good with sons or with horses?" Mr White asked.
Ichabod resisted the urge to roll his eyes and said; "What is it you wanted to speak to me about?"
"Some sliver's gone missing from the dining room," Mr White replied.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Did you take it?" Mr White stepped towards Ichabod, jabbing him several times in the chest, with an old bony finger.
"No!" Ichabod was astonished by the accusation. "Don't be ridiculous. I haven't even been here," he added.
"I can check that, with the horseman," Mr White said, taking another step forward, giving Ichabod a sharp shove.
"Please do," Ichabod countered, straightening up.
"Okay," Mr White replied, obviously satisfied that Ichabod was telling the truth. "You weren't here, but your wife was."
Something snapped inside Ichabod; how dare this awful little man accuse Katrina of such a thing.
"Look here," Ichabod snapped, knocking Mr White's hands away, and stepping towards him, his own finger wagging in the man's face.
"Oh thank goodness!" Mr White suddenly wailed.
Ichabod jumped when he noticed Katrina and the others, including Masbeth, standing in the doorway.
"He turned on me," the old man said, faking a tearful tone, "Like a madman!"
"Ichabod!" Katrina said in shock.
Ichabod swiftly retracted his finger and backed away from Mr White, embarrassed. Mr White turned and left the room without a word.
"You should have knocked his block off," the man from on the bench said. He stepped forwards to shake Ichabod's hand; "I'm Frank. And this is my wife Eleanor."
"Hello," Ichabod greeted them.
"And I'm Rebecca Green," the young woman said, "And Katrina, what ever was going on, I'm sure Mr White started it."
"We're just about to go for a drink," Eleanor said. "Perhaps you would like to join us."
"Yes, thank-you," Ichabod replied.
"I'll just go and put my sketchbook away," Katrina said, and both she and Rebecca headed for the staircase.
"Rebecca won't be joining us," Frank explained. "Her husband's unwell and in bed, and she worries if she's away from him for too long. We somehow managed to drag her away for a walk today, and we met your lovely wife on our return."
"What bad luck to fall ill while on holiday," Ichabod said.
"They are not on holiday as such," Eleanor said. "They were passing by this way when he had a fall and broke his leg. They were forced to stay here while he recovered. Poor lamb's been laid up for weeks, can barely sit up in bed to take meals."
"How long have you been here," Masbeth asked.
Frank and Eleanor let out a laugh.
"We've lost count of the months," Frank chuckled.
"It's the sea air," Eleanor added, "One breath and you're hooked!"
Katrina returned from upstairs and the group went into the hotel's tavern. There was a young man with thick, curly brown hair serving behind the bar.
"This is Ted," Frank said. "He's the hotel's barkeep, luggage handler, maid," Frank laughed, "Did I miss anything out Ted my boy?"
"No, I think you mentioned it all," Ted replied with a good-hearted chuckle. "Mr White likes to keep me busy."
"Ted and a young lady called Alice - sweet girl - are the only employees of Mr White," Eleanor explained.
"He wouldn't like to fork out for any more wages than that," Frank added with a wink.
"And he's given her the heave-ho," Ted said.
"Alice? Why?"
"Caught her stealing," Ted explained, shaking his head, "Money missing out of his room, jewellery missing from another room; terrible business. And he's been on the rampages today on account of some sliver's gone missing out of the dining room. But he can't pin that on Alice, she's been gone since yesterday."
"He, um, tried to 'pin it' on me," Ichabod said.
"Yes," Ted said with a small nod. "I understood he was going to have a word."
"How ridiculous," Katrina said, "Ichabod's a man of the law. Besides he hasn't been here."
"I'm sorry about that," Ted said. "But Mr White got it into his head that you arrived today and the silver disappeared today, and so the two must be connected. He's probably misled it somewhere himself and is too embarrassed to admit it."