Diane Davidson - Sticks & Scones

What? What did I just say to myself?

I pushed into the Great Hall and was thinking so hard I almost upended the Jerk, plate and all. He cursed under his breath. I sincerely hoped he’d served himself lots of molded salad. He was allergic to strawberries.

I sandwiched the ice cream cartons between the ice cubes in the cooler, then began to cut the plum tarts. The castles were self-sufficient. All of the needs of the courtiers and servants were met within the walls: food, water, entertainment, and, oh Lord, forgive me for not thinking of it before now: worship.

Every castle had a chapel, of course it did. But where was the chapel in this castle? I’d been so focused on the Gothic structure down the road, Hyde Chapel, I’d forgotten to ask the question. Andy had written to Tom, The stamps are in the Hydes’ chapel. Could there be more than one? And which one had he been talking about?

Folks were already clustered back at the buffet line for seconds. One of the team moms zipped to my side and gushed that she had to have my recipes for potato casserole and shrimp curry. I told her no problem. The buffet line did not need my attention. So, acting as if I had business there I strode over to the rack of pamphlets Eliot had set up by the east door.

The only two pamphlets on display both looked newly printed: Hide Away at Hyde Castle! and A History of Hyde Castle. I glanced quickly through both of them. The second had a current floor plan, but no indication of how the spaces of the castle had been used in the Middle Ages, when the building had been constructed. The living room, for example, was designated by Eliot as “The Grand Parlor,” when Sukie herself had told me it once stabled the horses. The playroom I’d discovered was labeled “Moat Pump Room.” Why would Eliot, with all his concern for casting out historical tidbits, not tell how the spaces were originally used?

And then I remembered the pamphlets in Eliot’s study. I’d grabbed one entitled Medieval Castles and Their Secrets, as well as Have Your Wedding at Hyde Chapel! But hadn’t I taken another old one, one on taking a tour of the historic castle? Where was that thing?

Out of habit, I patted my pockets. Nothing in my apron. I prayed and felt inside my sweater pockets. Ah: paper. I pulled out all three pamphlets that I’d picked up in Eliot’s office. As the guests had no immediate food needs, I quickly opened A Tour of Hyde Castle and pored over it.

It contained a historic floor plan. I ran my finger across the space allotted to the stables, the old kitchen next to the Great Hall - now the bedroom suite where Julian and Arch were quartered - the duke’s bedroom, now the new kitchen, and, in the area marked Moat Pump Room in the new floor plan, next to what was now Eliot’s study on the west range: Chapel. But I hadn’t seen a pump, broken or no. I’d seen games and toys and kiddie-style furniture. I’d also seen a new lock, a lot of spilled paint, and a Wet Paint sign.

Plus, I’d asked both Michaela and Eliot about the current uses of that room. They’d both either lied or been evasive.

So what did all this tell me? I wasn’t sure. And I didn’t have time to think about it, because at that moment the second mom who’d helped me came trundling up.

“Goldy? What are you doing? Several of the guests have asked what you were reading so intently. Mr. Hyde said it was an old map of the castle.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Well, the Lauderdales want the nondairy dessert for Howie now. They said they asked you to buy lime sorbet.”

I stuffed the pamphlet back into my pocket. “I haven’t started to serve dessert yet.” My voice was stiff with anger. After what the Lauderdales had put Arch through, they had some nerve demanding early dessert service.

“I told Buddy that,” the mom explained, “but he said he wants to get Howie home, in case he was hurt in the collision. I‘11 serve him his special dessert, if you want. Just tell me where it is. The Lauderdales are very anxious. Chardé says she wants to get her money’s worth from the banquet, and neither she nor Buddy are having any of the plum tart.”

Oh, man, would these people never stop? “All right. Howie’s sorbet is resting on ice in the cooler. If they must have it now, you can serve it to them. Eliot wants to say a few words about the jewels in the plum tart, so I’m not going to start with the whole dessert service yet.”

“Okay. Except here’s the thing. I thought the sorbet was in the cooler, too,” she explained. “At least, I thought I saw it there. But now it’s gone.”

Clearly, this evening was not going to rank among my Top Ten Easily Catered Affairs. I stopped arguing with Team Mom Number Two and strode over to the cooler.

My heart sank. The sorbet was gone. No carton. No telltale drips. I counted the bowls. None missing. No missing spoons, either. So, someone had come along, swiped the sorbet, taken the box into a bathroom, then eaten the contents with their fingers?

I sighed. I missed having Julian to help. Among other things, we managed to keep a close eye on the food, because people do steal at catered events, and not just because they want to take something home to Fido.

Thank heaven I’d bought two containers of sorbet! I asked the team moms to signal Eliot to start his discourse on How English Nobility Loved Hidden Treasure in Dessert. The women enthusiastically agreed to serve up tart slices with scoops of vanilla ice cream. If anyone asked, I told them, I was going back for sorbet for a demanding guest, and would return soon. They smiled in sympathy.

I sailed out of the Great Hall door, intent on my dessert-retrieval mission. But in the hallway between the Great Hall and Arch and Julian’s bedroom door, I came face-to-face with one of those ubiquitous Wet Paint signs. We’d been here four days. The mistress of the castle, Sukie Hyde, was the neatest neatnik I’d ever met. So how come these signs were still up?

Was any real painting going on? If you were trying to conceal something with a Wet Paint sign, wouldn’t you put up lots of Wet Paint signs, to confuse the issue?

My curiosity got the better of me. Eliot wouldn’t have left all the alarms on, would he? Especially since he had promised to take the guests on a tour later? I raced down the stairs to the ground floor and crossed the courtyard. The door to the hall leading to the “Moat Pump Room” opened easily. I wanted another look at the entry to that room, which had actually been filled with toys, and which had formerly served as the castle’s chapel.

-26-

The hallway glowed from the same overhead crystal fixtures and flickering wall sconces that were everywhere in the castle. Eliot had left on all the lights, probably because of the promised post-dessert tour. After his lengthy discourses and Arch’s accident, however, I thought it unlikely anyone would stick around to explore.

Unlikely for anyone except me, that is. By the entrance to the old chapel, I removed the Wet Paint sign and scraped the wall with my fingernail. Underneath the new splotch of paint was a dark spot. What was I looking for? Blood? If I found it, what would I do? And would the police accuse me of destroying evidence?

All right, think, I ordered myself as I studied the empty hallway. What exactly was I looking for? When Andy Balachek had been getting antsy, I was willing to bet, his partner-in-crime had strung him along with the information that the precious stamps were in the Hydes’ chapel.

Andy’s father Peter had worked on the west range after the flood of ‘82. According to Michaela, Andy had explored this side of the castle extensively as a child. So maybe Andy had figured in the Hydes’ chapel meant in the castle chapel. Say he had broken into the castle looking for those stamps. What was the one thing that had most haunted Tom and me since the discovery of Andy Balachek?