Alex Bledsoe - Dark Jenny

“Tell her it’s me,” Kay said.

“She said no one.”

“Rebecca-”

“Bob, I know it’s important. But did you see her face down there? She’s a mess. I can’t let you upset her any more, not right now.” The girl looked me up and down, taking in my cuffs. “Come back later, and I’m sure she’ll be willing to talk to you. ”

I could tell Kay was about to accept this excuse, so I said softly, “Tell the queen that if she doesn’t talk to us, we’ll let everyone downstairs, including the knights, know she wouldn’t talk to us.”

Rebecca looked at me as if she’d scraped me from her boot. “I don’t normally trouble the queen with messages from prisoners.”

“I’m sure you’re up to the challenge,” I said.

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed and she slammed the door in our faces. A few moments later she opened it all the way, curtsied and gestured that we should enter. “Her Majesty Queen Jennifer Drake will receive you now,” she recited.

Naturally, Jennifer had the swankiest digs in the palace. Huge tapestries covered the cold stone walls, and a fire blazed in a hearth roughly the size of my office. Oil lamps provided an even glow, and the furniture was heavy, luxurious, and over-ornamented. Somewhere incense burned, and one of the other maidens strummed idly on a harp, never quite hitting a tune.

The queen awaited us before the fireplace. She wore a light silk robe over her blue lounging gown, and her hair had been braided down her back. This close she was even more of a stunner, although something innately fragile about her brought up the desire to shelter and protect her from harsh things. I suspected she was well aware of this effect, perhaps even cultivated it, and probably watched to see if we fell for it. From the look on his face it was clear that Kay always did.

Rebecca, the harpist, and the two other maidens immediately withdrew to a couch in the corner as Jennifer strode to meet us. She put her left hand on her right shoulder, which caused her robe’s billowy sleeve to sweep dramatically through the air. “I assume you’ve got news for me, Sir Robert?” She looked pointedly at me.

Kay bowed just enough for it to count. “Not the news you’re hoping for, Your Majesty. We still don’t know what happened yet.”

“Yes, we do,” I said.

She looked at me, and I got the full effect of her royal charisma. If I’d been a lesser man, I’d have curled up purring at her feet. “Are you confessing?”

I bowed. I’d been taught court etiquette since before I could speak, so it was point-perfect, even with my hands cuffed. “Edward LaCrosse, Your Majesty.”

“He was the first one to reach Sam’s body,” Kay offered. “I don’t believe he’s the murderer.”

She smiled wryly. “But you’re not one hundred percent certain?”

“Not about many things, Your Majesty. But he says he’s a private soldier who knows how to investigate crimes like this, and I’ve asked him to help.”

This time she gave me a look I felt in my scabbard. “A sword jockey?” she said, with a little smile that spoke of royal treasures having nothing to do with jewelry. It was her way of asserting control in her male-dominated world. “Isn’t that the common term? I always thought they were ragged little men hiding under beds or chasing charnel wagons.”

“Not all of us,” I said. “It may be a business of lepers, but I’ve still got most of my fingers.”

“You said you knew what had happened,” she said, ignoring my humor. Most women, royal or not, did that.

“It’s not complicated. Someone wanted to kill Thomas Gillian in a very public way, which meant they had a point to make. Since you provided the murder weapon, that point may also have involved making you look bad. The victim got in the middle of it by sheer dumb luck.”

“Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with it.” It was the obligatory denial, and she was a good enough performer that it sounded genuine. Which it might have been.

“I try not to think anything,” I said. “I let the evidence think for me. Right now the evidence leads us to you. Hopefully it’ll lead us further.”

“And what ‘evidence’ might that be?”

I nodded toward the tray of apples, in plain sight on the sideboard. “The murder weapon. He wasn’t killed with a sword or knife. Mind if I look them over?”

“Certainly.”

I went to the tray. In the time she’d been alone with the apples, she could’ve done anything to them, including replace them all. But it didn’t mean an examination would tell me nothing.

I picked up a knife from a nearby place setting. Immediately Kay stiffened and moved closer. I realized he was getting into position to protect the queen and gave him a wry smile.

Unable to grasp the knife in my puffy right hand, I used my left to awkwardly turn several of the apples. I looked for any discoloration that might show where the poison had been added. I found none. The killer apparently trusted that blind luck would have Gillian pick up the lone poisoned apple. “Are they all here?” I asked.

“As far as I know.” She indicated herself and her maids. “We certainly haven’t eaten any of them.”

“Are these apples special?”

“In what way?”

“Can you find others like them anywhere besides the royal orchard?”

Surprised, she said, “I suppose one could. I’m no gardener, but I’m not aware that they’re any rare variety.”

I leaned down and sniffed. The same aroma I’d smelled from the late Sir Patrice was barely present. I looked more closely at the nearest apple and at last found what I sought: a tiny bump, easily missed, on the bottom near the calyx indention. I picked up the fruit with a napkin and said, “Look at this.”

When Jennifer started to move, Kay stepped in front of her and said, “Hand me the knife first.”

I did. Then Kay and Jennifer crowded close. “What is it?” Kay asked.

I transferred the fruit to the palm of my injured hand and tapped the bump with my fingernail. It fell off and revealed a hole no larger in diameter than a sewing needle. “A bit of wax to seal the hole. Do you still have the one that killed Patrice on you?”

Kay nodded and produced it, still wrapped in my handkerchief. I quickly found an identical wax seal in the same spot. “That’s where the poison was injected into them, and then sealed.”

Jennifer looked at me with either admiration or wariness; it was hard to tell. “So every apple was poisoned this way?”

“Let’s see.” Now that I knew what I sought, it only took moments to inspect them all. Roughly half of them were poisoned, and piled so that the lethal ones were on top.

Her breathtaking face creased with confusion. “But Mr. LaCrosse, they were with me the whole time. This could not have been done quickly; when would the killer have had an opportunity?”

I shrugged. “We’ll know that when we catch him. Or her.”

“I don’t care for your manner, sir,” the queen snapped.

“Neither do I. I grieve over it on warm summer evenings. But may I give you some advice? No one’s accused you of anything yet, and when you jump at every innuendo, it just makes you look guilty. You might want to put on a thicker skin until we get this straightened out.”

Her eyes opened wide, then narrowed, and the contempt that shot from them was enough to wither a cornfield. I understood Kay’s reluctance to confront her. She straightened her back and raised her chin, which made her seem far taller than she was. With regal disdain she told Kay, “I would appreciate it if you’d show this person out of my chambers.”

I pocketed Patrice’s apple. “I apologize if candor offends you, Your Majesty. If you think of anything that might help us, I hope your low opinion of me won’t make you keep it to yourself.” I made another perfect courtly bow. By the time I rose, Rebecca had scurried across the room and again held the door for us.