Murderous Matrimony(37)

The Main Gate opened at ten, and visitors began to pile into the already crowded room. It didn’t take long before the coffee and cinnamon rolls were gone. They had only been planned for the opening ceremonies, so it was okay. I thanked the two brothers who’d brought the coffee from the bakery. They bowed and left.

Susan Halifax and the flute players left with the Adventureland board members and the guild masters. Queen Olivia and King Harold departed the museum after allowing photos from the first visitors to arrive.

Oliver took a break after the first hour. The king had given him a park pass for the day so he could wander at will between his times working on the loom.

“That was quite a crowd,” he said with a smile. “I’ve never used the loom in front of royalty before. That’s something to write home about. I hope there were pictures.”

“I saw the Adventureland publicist here taking pictures. I’m sure she’ll send you some. Otherwise, you should be all over Facebook and other social media already.”

“Odds bodkins! I’m famous! I think I’ll see if that will buy me a cup of ale at the local pub.”

Obviously, he was enjoying his time at the museum. I’d hoped he would be a good sport about being at the Village for the day. You never knew about people. Some just didn’t understand, or like it.

“I missed everything, didn’t I?”

I heard Manny’s voice behind me and ran to hug him. “You’re not in jail! I’m so glad to see you.”

He adjusted his vest and jacket, smoothed his hair and checked his watch fob. “No, I’m not in jail. My lawyer proved who I was to the satisfaction of the police. I will pay for it later, no doubt. But for now I’m a free man.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t happen in time for the opening, but everything went beautifully.”

“Where’s our loom master?” He glanced at the old loom with the start of a new tapestry on it.

“He’s taking a break. He’ll be back soon.”

“And what of the person who killed Dave the Madman? Has the Bailiff had any luck locating that person?”

“No.” I told him what Madman Bob had said, as well as recounting what I’d gleaned from Master Simmons. “I don’t know if that will matter, especially since he may be a criminal himself.”

Manny had a look of complete shock on his face. “I thought there were background checks here. How could such a man come to work outside our door?”

I laughed at him. “The same way you did, I guess. Adventureland’s background checks must not be worth much.”

“Are you comparing me to a killer archer?” He looked at his shiny shoes and perfectly creased Victorian clothes.

“No. Not at all. Come on. Let me show you the work Oliver did this morning.”

*

When Oliver came back from his break, I left Manny in charge at the museum.

I believed Madman Bob. He probably saw something important the night Dave was killed. Whether it would be helpful or not, was another story. It was a piece of the whole puzzle. I needed to find what went with it.

I walked down to see Roger Trent at the Glass Gryphon. He was working on a large flying horse he was creating from iridescent glass. It was an incredible piece. I couldn’t wait until it was his turn at the museum to show off.

“I don’t need to ask why you’re here.” Roger put the piece aside. “You want to know about Dave, right? I’ve been waiting for Chase, or the police, to realize that I had valuable information. I should’ve known it would be you!”

We sat down together with his wife, Gullah basket weaver, Mary Shift. Both of their shops were slow for the moment.

I’d apprenticed with both of them. Everyone was always so busy, it was hard to find time just to sit and catch up. I enjoyed seeing them.

But Roger wasn’t interested in a tea party where we could gossip and talk about what we’d been doing.

“He’s in one of his moods,” Mary told me as she worked on a sweet grass basket.

“They don’t appreciate me, Mary,” he complained. “They send Jessie to ask me questions. Here I am—an experienced, retired police officer. They ignore me.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing personal.” She looped the grass together with her fingers, barely looking at it.

Mary was a slight, black woman with an interesting face and hands that were never still. She was dressed in a long purple cotton skirt and matching blouse that was tied in the front.

“You know I’m naturally nosy,” I told him. “Tell me about Dave. I know that you had problems with him gambling.”

He nodded, apparently willing to overlook my menial status in order to talk about what he knew best. “I had to roust him several times. The man didn’t know how to win, but he was obsessed with trying. A bookie once paid someone in the Village to break his legs because he owed so much money.”