Kasey Michaels: High Heels and Homicide

«I was going to,» Sir Rudy said, looking confused. «We're talking about more than two hundred years ago, remember. Uncle Willis had huge gambling debts, so he pilfered all the family jewels and hid them. But then this place flooded, and he couldn't get away…»

«That sounds familiar,» Maggie said, getting interested. Very interested.

«Yes, so he was questioned about the jewels, and his uncle had him caned—they did that back in those days. Have your servants cane someone for you, you know?»

«Know that, too. Go on, go on,» Maggie urged.

«There's not much more. Uncle Willis wouldn't give up his secret, so he was locked in that attic room so that he couldn't escape until he said where he'd hidden the family jewels—some rather lovely diamonds as well as much more. You can see most of it in the paintings of the ladies in the Long Gallery. The old lady never sold the paintings. She said they were the only way she could see the family jewels. There's one yellow diamond bigger than a goose egg, I swear.»

«Is that good?» Sterling asked.

«It's good, Sterling,» Maggie told him. «And about to get better, I think. What did Uncle Willis do, Sir Rudy? I take it he never escaped.»

Sir Rudy rubbed at his chin, one of his chins. «Well, legend has it that the beatings were kept up, but Uncle Willis wasn't budging. Went on for months. Uncle Willis went mad as a hatter, and nobody found the jewels. We heard the old boy had made a map and hidden it somewhere, but nobody ever found it. Nobody's ever found anything, not in all these years. They finally gave up and just kept Uncle Willis in the attics.»

Maggie could barely wait to tell Saint Just. «But the old lady—that is, the previous owner? The last of the line? She stuck it out here, even as the whole place started going downhill. She and the paintings of her ancestors, all wearing those jewels? Did she believe the jewels were here?»

«Everybody loves a legend. The young lads used to try to break in here and search,» Sir Rudy said, then grinned. «I was one of them. We'd break a window in the kitchens and sneak in, then think we heard Uncle Willis walking around and run back out again. The old biddy was down to living in just a couple of rooms by then, and we proba-bly drove her crazy. Chased me all the way to the end of the lane once, with a broom. But let me finish with Uncle Willis. He was mad as a hatter after a while, so they left him alone in the attics. He didn't even try to lope off. Must have been content. I read in the blue-backed book that he laughed a lot. Then one day they found him, hanging up there, in that room. More than a few slates slid off the fellow's roof before the end, I'd say.»

«And anyone who read the diaries would know all of this? How extraordinarily interesting,» Alex said from behind Maggie.

Maggie turned around quickly, and just as quickly tried to give Alex a sharp punch to the stomach, which he, naturally, adeptly sidestepped. «Don't do that. Don't sneak up on people like that.»

«A thousand apologies, my dear,» Alex said. «But think of all the time we've saved, now that you don't have to repeat the story to me. Sir Rudy? Do you believe any of it? Are you , perhaps, still looking for the stolen jewels?»

«Me? Oh, maybe at first. If I was in Scotland, I'd be keeping an eye out for that Loch Ness monster, too. But it's probably all a hum. I'll bet the jewels were found more'n a century ago and never reported. Taxes, you understand. The very devil here in England. In America, too, I suppose. No, the jewels were found, and then they disappeared, that's how I see the thing. But you did ask if I knew of anything worth stealing. You never found the blue book? Strange. Somebody must be reading it, don't you think?»

«Or has already read it,» Maggie said quietly to Alex. «Let's go somewhere and talk.»

Alex gifted Sir Rudy with a slight inclination of his head. «My profound thanks, dear sir, although I fear you are correct. The jewels are most likely long gone. Excuse us, if you please? We're off on a small excursion of our own. Fruitless, I'm already convinced, but it will keep us occupied until the constable arrives. Sterling? Perry? Do try to keep up.»

«You just love taking charge, don't you?» Maggie gritted her teeth as she climbed the main staircase alongside Alex. «But do you think that's it? One of those people back there was bored, read the blue book, and decided to wait out the monsoon by looking for the jewels?»

«And found them?»

Maggie frowned. «Right. They would have found them. In just a couple of days, when everyone else has been looking for two centuries. That seems impossible. But why else would they—I'm still thinking it was Joanne and a partner— why else would they have to kill Sam, unless he stumbled on them right as they found the jewels?»

«Or the map leading to the jewels. Sir Rudy did speak of a map, remember, although that could all be conjecture, or wishful thinking, as everyone loves a treasure map with a large X marking the spot. And I agree, the idea of both the map and the jewels being hidden for several centuries, just to be discovered by chance by a pair of half-hearted treasure seekers anxious to ease their boredom? That does not, as you Americans say, compute.»

Maggie had to half-skip to keep up with Alex's long strides as they turned into the wing holding their bedchambers. Which wasn't easy because Maggie, sadly, was one of those people who, if they can't see the floor in front of them, is of the opinion that maybe, just possibly, that floor may have disappeared and they were about to step off the end of the world.

«Slow down, will you?» Maggie grumbled, knowing full well that Alex knew of her fear of walking in the dark. «But yes, that's too many coincidences. The map or the jewels. That's one. That two of the crew would agree to work together when it's pretty clear none of them like each other. That they'd find in a day or so what nobody could find in a million years. That Sam would find them just as one of them was holding up the yellow diamond and saying, 'Eureka, we're rich!' «

«Unless Sam was one of the search party from the beginning?» Alex suggested, opening the door to Maggie's bedchamber.

«No,» Maggie said, stopping dead. «Sam? But he's the innocent victim. I mean, we cast him as the innocent victim right from the get-go. I never thought about him as one of the bad guys.»

«Yes, I do remember your feelings about the man. You were about to nominate the fellow for sainthood, I believe.»

«Bite me. So I didn't like him. But you shouldn't speak ill of the dead, and all that bilge. I just assumed—»

«Shhh, we'll leave it at that and spare your blushes.»

«Oh, yeah, right. You thought he was an innocent victim, too, right up until the Uncle Willis part. Admit it.»

«If it will make you happy, I'll admit to anything,» he said, then turned to address Perry. «You'll come with me, if you please, while Sterling and Maggie remain here. Safety in numbers.»

«Where are you going?»

«Upstairs, to Uncle Willis's bedchamber-cum-prison, of course. I would like you to count to sixty and then begin to speak with Sterling here. Stand in front of the fireplace, if you would, and talk.»

«About what?»

«My dear, must I do everything? Very well. May I suggest you begin with 'Into the valley of death rode the six hundred'?»

«Smartass,» Maggie said, but she was beginning to understand. «You're thinking about those vents in Uncle Willis's room, aren't you? The ones that come off one of the fireplaces? You think they come off this fireplace? And that anything said in here can be heard upstairs?»

«That's part of it, yes, although that is not the be-all and end-all of my hopes. Perry? Shall we?»