Six Geese A-Slaying(26)

“She can’t get just any old person to play a wise man!” Minerva exclaimed. “For one thing, ninety percent of the people here are scared witless of those fool camels. Much too scared to even get up on one,” she added, which meant she’d figured out that her husband wasn’t deliriously happy about climbing back in the camel saddle.

From the look on the chief’s face, I could tell he thought scared witless was a sensible attitude toward dromedaries.

“And it needs to be a person of substance,” she went on. “Someone with standing in the community. Someone . . .”

“Preferably someone black,” I said. “Sorry if that sounds blunt, but in spite of that medieval tradition I mentioned to the reporter, I did some research and found out that Caerphilly’s never had a black wise man in the parade before. And some of the Town Council members put up a surprising number of objections. Of course, they pretended it was because you’ve only been in town seven years but . . .”

I shrugged and let the sentence trail off. The chief’s eyes narrowed, and he gave me a tight nod, as if to say he wasn’t all that surprised and he knew exactly which council members I was talking about.

“Of course, I pointed out that I’d been in town even less time than you had,” I added. “And I told them since they’d made me Mistress of the Revels in spite of being such a newcomer, I didn’t see the problem in the chief being a wise man.”

“I heard you’d threatened to resign if they didn’t approve Henry,” Minerva said. “We appreciate that.”

I shrugged. I’d threatened to resign at least a dozen times, usually over far more trivial matters, and wouldn’t have been all that broken up if the council had accepted any of my resignations.

“So, about that replacement wise man,” the chief said. “How about Lucas Hawes?”

“No way you’re going to take away our only half-decent baritone who’s not down sick with the flu,” Minerva countered. “What about your cousin John?”

“He’s all involved in the Kwanzaa float,” the chief said. “What about Reverend Pratt?”

I left the two of them to argue it out. I had no doubt that Minerva Burke would find an acceptable substitute wise man for me.

I saw a bigger problem headed my way. Eric and Cal Burke were peering around the corner of a nearby shed. I hurried over to head them off.





Chapter 10

“You guys shouldn’t be here,” I said. “It’s a crime scene. And you know how stern Cal’s grandfather is about letting anyone near his crime scenes.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eric said.

“Eric, dear,” my mother said. She appeared behind the boys, trailed by one of Chief Burke’s officers. The crime scene perimeter was starting to resemble a sieve.

“Sorry, Grandma,” Eric said. “I know we were supposed to wait by the float. It’s just that Cal was worried. About Santa.”

I glanced down to see that Cal was gazing up at me with huge brown eyes that looked perilously close to brimming over with tears. Mother put one hand on Eric’s shoulder and one on Cal’s. Cal just kept staring up at me.

“I heard on Deputy Shiffley’s radio that someone killed Santa,” Cal asked. “Is it true?”

“Well,” I began. I wished Chief Burke or Minerva were in sight. I didn’t know the official Burke family party line on Santa Claus. And I couldn’t count on Mother for help. When kids asked the difficult questions, like where babies came from and was there really a Santa, Mother usually managed to have someone else answer.

Cal assumed my hesitation meant the worst.

“It’s true, then,” he said. His lip was quivering slightly, and a tear started rolling down his left cheek. “Someone killed Santa Claus!”

“No, of course not!” I exclaimed. “Someone killed Mr. Dole-son. He was just pretending to be Santa, for the parade.”

“Why?” Cal asked.

Was he asking, like his grandfather, why someone had killed Mr. Doleson? Or only why Santa had picked such an unpleasant deputy?

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m sure your grandfather will. You can ask him, later, when he’s not so busy working on the case.”

“My grandpa’s helping, too,” Eric put in.

“Yes, isn’t it nice that Cal’s grandfather is letting your grandfather help with the murder,” Mother said. “I’m sure this will be the most exciting Christmas Grandpa’s ever had.”

“How remiss of us not to have arranged a Yuletide homicide long before now,” I said.