4 Impression of Bones (10 page)

“I’ll have
someone take a look for clues out here. Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone will
have lost a wallet or a monogrammed handkerchief in the bushes.” He didn’t
sound like he believed evidence would be forthcoming.

Manoogin
headed back for the tunnel, stopping to offer Juliet a hand as they pushed past
the thorny shrub and back into the oppressive corridor.

“So, what
brought you out here today, Miss Henry?” Manoogin asked. “I should have
enquired before co-opting you in our search. I hope that I’m not keeping you
from your work.”

“Shelves.
I need the space in my studio to
finish the last tapestry, so I decided to ditch the shelves in the courtyard.
If the room has been processed and cleared, Esteban will install them this
afternoon. Frankly, the sooner I can wrap this project up the better.”

“I couldn’t
agree more.” Whether he was speaking of her presence or his own was up for
debate.

It was a relief
to see the light from the wine cellar up ahead. The gloomy tunnel made her feel
a bit claustrophobic. She didn’t know it for a fact, but her intuition said
that it was in this tunnel that the body had been lost for all those years. A
certain psychic gloom lingered.

“The tower room
has been cleared for use. It’s even had the worst of the masonry removed. We
had to search the old chimney for evidence and it was impossibly dark in that
room after nightfall, so I had the scrap carried down to the courtyard for
detailed examination. Unfortunately, it didn’t help much.”

That was a partial
lie, or at least an improbable excuse. The police have floodlights that could
light up Mars. Manoogin had probably had the debris removed to please her.
Juliet didn’t smile particularly brightly because it might make the trailing Weston
suspicious, but she held Manoogin’s sidelong glance long enough to say thanks
with her eyes.

“The walls are
four feet thick in the tower. The sun has to travel a ways to make it inside.
Until I install those mirrors, it’s going to stay gloomy.”

Once Weston
was through the cellar door, they moved the wine rack back into place. Weston
started up the stairs immediately, leaving them to follow at a more leisurely
pace. He might have been bothered by underground spaces, but Juliet was sure it
was her presence that had driven him away.

“I miss Hannah,”
Juliet murmured. “She had better manners and is probably better at finding
things.”

“Juliet—and
please don’t take this as anything except admiration—but you have a stare that
would make the average criminal cower under a chair. I can’t blame Weston for
beating a retreat.”

Juliet had to
choke down a sudden giggle. It wouldn’t go well with her fearsome professional
reputation.

“Only those
who are soft in the head would be afraid of little ole me. And would that
include our friend, Detective Weston?”

“Yes, it
would,” he agreed immediately. “There is mainly pickled pulp where there should
be brains. It’s a case of nepotism though, so there’s no hope of getting rid of
him.”

“A
pity.
So who did
you piss off to get saddled with him?”

It was
Manoogin’s turn to stifle laughter.

“It turns out
my new captain has literary ambitions. He gave me a manuscript to read,
claiming it was from a friend who wanted a big city policeman to be a kind of fact
checker on procedural matters. I guess I shouldn’t have been completely honest
about all the errors.”

“Was it a good
read?”

“No. And I
shouldn’t have been frank about that either.”

They parted
ways in the kitchen and Juliet headed for the courtyard, watched by Weston with
suspicious and baffled eyes.

The corridors
on the ground floor were nice and cool, and dark without being gloomy, and
Juliet was in no hurry to go up to her tower, though she did want to see how it
looked with the impromptu crypt cleared away.

“The boss man
didn’t care, but I’m just
sayin
’ that I like the rugs
and drapes to match,” a male voice said before she could step outside. Given
the laughter that followed, Juliet doubted the men were discussing the design
theme of the library.

Men
, she thought with a sigh and changed her mind about checking on the
shelving.

Juliet liked
Manoogin
though, and hoped that their paths would cross
again someday when there weren’t bodies around. But Weston and the other
roughnecks were another matter. This project—and the murder—needed to be
cleared up immediately so she could have a clear autumn calendar and be able to
enjoy undistracted the commerce of the fall festivals which were her meat and
potatoes.

In fact, if
Esteban was willing to be a beast of burden…. Juliet got out her phone.

“
Bella
?”

“Yes, it’s me.
We’re on for this afternoon. And, if you are willing, could you stop by my
place first and pick up the mirrors for the windows. They are all strapped into
cardboard flats and there shouldn’t be any trouble with transportation.”

“Of
course.”
He paused.
“More ghosts in the tower?”

“No, a cop
named Weston who isn’t fond of civilians and especially women who can think.”

“Ah. Well, be
patient. I shall be there around one.
Adios
.”

“
Ciao
.”

So, perhaps
she wasn’t ready to write off the entire gender. She actually knew a number of
men who were perfectly lovely. It was simply unfortunate that they weren’t
working at Barclay.

Juliet found
her way to the library blocked by a collection of wrought-iron pickets and had
to return through the kitchen. On the way she passed the small half bath and
found Julia Mannering on her hands and knees, groping behind the toilet. There
was reddish sawdust stuck on the bottom of her muddied running shoes.

It would have
been easy to miss her in her peacock sweater among all the birds. The room had
an avian theme. Any object—including the toilet—that was large enough to bear
the imprint of a bird had one.
Hummingbirds, parrots,
flamingoes, and ravens.
The mini awning over the sink had been painted
with tropical plants and trimmed in ostrich feathers.

“Julia? Are
you alright?” Juliet forced herself to ask though she was annoyed by the
distraction.

“Dropped a
contact,” the woman said, scrambling to her feet. Her face was flushed and her
eyes suspiciously red.

There had been
some talk about Dolph being involved with her last spring when he sponsored a
show for her. Perhaps the poor creature had still had feelings for the man. It
wasn’t something she could ask.

“I didn’t know
you wore them. Did you find it?” Juliet asked. Hoping her answer was in the
affirmative.

“Yes. I’m fine
now.”

That was a
big, fat lie, but Juliet let it pass.

“Good,” she
said and smiled politely as she moved on toward the kitchen.

Myra Wicks,
Dolph’s
secretary, was already there and Juliet hesitated
in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt if she wanted privacy for the
conversation with Lieutenant Manoogin. It was apparent that Myra was stressed,
but nothing about her suggested that she was wrestling with overwhelming grief
at the loss of her employer.

“Sandra asked
me to give you this,” she said without preamble, thrusting a watch at a weary-looking
Manoogin
. Her voice denied all responsibility for the
watch and the artist.

Juliet had
only a glimpse of it but recognized Dolph’s expensive Piaget. With Myra’s
fingerprints all over it, and now Manoogin’s too.

Was that
deliberate?

“Where did
Sandra find it?” Manoogin asked in a level voice that somehow did not quite
conceal his annoyance. With Juliet he had shown no teeth, so she knew that he
could keep his lips from curling back from his fangs when he wished.

“How should I
know?” Myra snapped, turning away.

“She didn’t
tell you?”

“Sandra is
upset. She isn’t very coherent. None of the artists are behaving normally.”

“I know. Murder
is upsetting. But it would be a very good thing for her to let me know where
this was found since it is an item that went missing from a crime scene. That
should have occurred to her.”

Myra glared.

“In
the small bathroom down the hall.”
Myra jerked her head. “She said she knocked it in the toilet on
accident yesterday after she found the body. She stuck it in her pocket and forgot
about it when she got sick.”

Juliet didn’t
say anything as she glanced back at the bathroom and saw Julia’s retreating
form. It wasn’t unusual for someone to be in that bathroom. It was the nearest
to the courtyard and all the workmen used it. Still, could she have had some
other reason for being in there besides the call of nature?

“If
that’s all?”
Myra
asked sarcastically and Juliet turned back.

“For now,”
Manoogin said coldly.

After Myra
left the room on clicking heels that expressed her annoyance, Manoogin turned
the watch over and read the back.

“There’s an
inscription?” Juliet asked, coming all the way into the kitchen, and he handed
the watch to her without comment. She took it reluctantly.

Love, Rose by another
name

“You know anyone named Eglantine or Floribunda?” Juliet
asked.

Manoogin blinked.

“Those are other names for roses,” she explained. “I wonder
if it’s anything that literal.”

“Let me guess, you are also a botanist in your spare time.”
His voice had warmed up several degrees but he still looked tired.

“No, but I have a neighbor who is always trying to educate
me about plants. It’s a struggle not to kill them, even with help.”

“Are you off to your tower?” Manoogin asked.

“I should be. It’s going to take several trips to get the
shelving upstairs.”

“But?”

“But nothing,” Juliet said. “It’s just hot and …
unpleasant.”

“The body is gone,” Manoogin said kindly. “It doesn’t even
smell. The crew was getting sick so they sprayed with some enzyme that kills germs
and odors. Things should be a lot better now.”

They should, but she bet they wouldn’t be. There was more
wrong with that room than bad odors. However that was a conversation beyond her
limitations of weirdness, so she didn’t try to explain.

“Thanks.”

Ashamed at her lingering nerves, Juliet turned around once
again and marched back for the courtyard and her shelving.

Juliet was taking a breather. It had taken three trips to
get all the shelves upstairs and then a fourth trip for a broom. The worst of
the mortar had been cleaned up, but she hated the reminder of the impromptu
crypt crunching underfoot when she walked. It carried the residue of death even
if she could no longer smell it.

The human bones were gone but the detritus contained what
looked like ancient birds’ nests, owl pellets, and a piece of dried bat wing.
The repellant debris had to go.

Behind where the chimney had been there was one stone that
looked slightly off color, though it was hard to tell since the wall was
lightly
sooted
and would have to be cleaned or else
hidden
under
one of her tapestries. Juliet made a
mental note to find out if the local hardware store carried soot sponges. They
stank to high heaven, being impregnated with dry-cleaning solvents, but it was
impossible to get soot off with soap and water. All that did was set and spread
the carbon stain. She told herself that there wasn’t the ghostly outline of the
poor woman’s body cast into the wall.

Curious and needing a breath of air, Juliet ventured up to
the top of the tower to have another look for a chimney stack or pot. The
trapdoor was heavy and she was careful not to let it fall back on her.

No chimney flue was to be discovered, perhaps because some
of the containers had been built over the hole? Certainly there was no detectable
current coming into the room. Wherever the chimney vent had been, it was open
no longer. None of the hot winds of summer entered the chamber.

She could see from her perch that the workmen were on the
job, but the main parking lot was almost empty. None of the interior decorators
were around and other than Julia Mannering, none of the artists. Were they
showing respect by staying away? She didn’t blame them for avoiding the media
and the police. One didn’t want notoriety because of proximity to murder.

A glance out of the tower window showed her that the mass
media vultures were still gathering at the gates. Hopefully they would leave
after their newscasts. There really wasn’t much to see. The bodies were gone
and the castle view was static. All work was being done on the inside or on the
far side of the castle. There was nothing to look at but squared-off rocks
baking in the sun.