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Authors: Melanie Jackson

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BOOK: 4 Impression of Bones
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“There are limits to what Dolph can do,” Raphael said,
amused.

“I don’t think Dolph knows that and I would rather not deal
with a pissed-off policeman.”

Juliet started down the curving stairs. She was glad that
she didn’t have arthritic knees because the constant corkscrew was harder on
the legs than a regular flight of steps would be. The steps were also grooved
in the center, worn down by thousands of feet that had used them through the
centuries. It made them historically interesting but a little uneven for safe
descent, especially if one were burdened with anything heavy.

She heard the lamp chains creaking before she saw them. The
giant colored vessels that held ten-pound candles and oil chambers were
arranged as a sort of chandelier in the great hall. Something had set them to
swaying. They sounded like a burdened gallows.

Wind.
It had to be the wind that
moved them. There was no reason for the hairs on her arms to be standing on
end.

“Lieutenant Manoogin?” Juliet asked, stepping into the hall
as the stranger strode through the open doors and looked about impatiently. Juliet
was a little surprised to find the castle open when everyone had gone to lunch.
Usually the castle portals were kept closed because of the marauding yellow jackets,
but perhaps the workmen were getting ready to unload furniture or some piece of
large equipment and it was easier to have the doors open.

“Vince Manoogin,” he confirmed in a low, rumbling voice, coming
forward and offering his hand. The lieutenant was tall and looked a bit like an
Old Testament prophet, albeit before he had reached the silvery beard stage. His
expression was watchful but curious. “And you would be Juliet Henry?”

Juliet had more or less gotten used to the casualness of
Californians in using first names on short acquaintance, but wasn’t sure if she
was going to be able to call this man
Vince
.

“Yes,” she said, shaking once and then letting go. “And who
is this?”

“This is Hannah. She’s in training. We’re still working on
the appropriate demeanor for her serious calling.”

“Hullo, Hannah,” Juliet said kneeling down to greet the
spaniel whose stumpy tail wagged enthusiastically. “Well, you had best come up.
I’m sorry, but the … problem is in the room at the top of the tower. Raphael
and I were working up there when we … found her.”

“It would be at the top,” Vince said without perturbation.
He certainly didn’t look like a few flights of stairs would trouble him unduly.

“Murphy’s Law applies everywhere,” Juliet agreed.

“Raphael James is with you?” he asked, showing that Garret
had taken the time to fill in a few details with a second phone call.

“Yes, he’s waiting for us,” Juliet said, mounting the
stairs. The narrow slits in the wall let in just enough light to see where they
were going. Clever lighting had been installed in a groove cut in the wall but
Juliet didn’t know where the switch was.

“He’s guarding the body?” Vince suggested.

Juliet looked back and smiled a little as Hannah rushed past
her and galloped up the stairs.

“Not an art fan, are you?” Juliet asked, wondering why
Garret hadn’t mentioned Raphael’s wheelchair.

“No, not really,” Vince admitted. “Does it matter?”

“No, not at all.”
Juliet thought about
explaining the wheelchair but decided not to.
Then changed
her mind.
It would be better not to spring too many things on the
surprisingly agreeable officer of the law. “Mr. James is in a wheelchair.
Otherwise he would have come down to meet you too.”

“How the heck did he get up here?” Manoogin asked after he
had digested this news. He kept one hand on the wall while climbing since there
was no railing.

“I’m a lot more worried about how he’s going to get down. I
think we’re stuck until people come back from lunch. They just went off and
left him.”

“No elevator?”

“Nope.
Not yet. Dolph says one is
coming though I doubt it will reach the tower.”

“That would be Randolph Kingman?”

“The Third, yes.”

Juliet felt Manoogin’s stare and wondered what had crept into
her voice.
Probably nothing good.

“Did I see a fire escape outside the tower?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s from the forties when this was a reform school.”

“But there don’t seem to be any rooms or doors along here.
What would anyone be escaping from?”

“There is an external exit from the roof which had been
turned into some kind of garden. That would probably be the fastest way out of
the tower room I’m remodeling if there was an emergency.”

The lieutenant gave a soft grunt.

“So, how does this remodel work? I gather from the article
in the paper that there are lots of interior decorators working on it at the
same time?”

“Yes. Each team of an artist and an interior decorator is
given a budget for their part of the remodel. In theory we work together as a
design team. In reality some teams are closer than others. Artists are
notorious loners and some designers are divas enough to feel threatened.”

“And what will your room be?” he asked politely.

“A sort of yoga-exercise-meditation room.
No one else is doing one and I figure who else but a fitness nut or a teenager
trying to get as far from his parents as possible is going to want to cope with
these stairs? It used to be a private chapel, I’m told, but I’m betting it
didn’t get much use. Anyway, there isn’t much call for an in-house church these
days.”

Manoogin may have laughed, or he might just have been
gasping for air. It was getting warmer and steeper as the tower narrowed.

They reached the turret’s only room before Juliet started obvious
panting. Hannah had gotten there before them and was busy getting pets from
Raphael who was looking like a medieval lord on a throne, backlit by a finger
of sun coming through the arrow slit and giving him a lovely halo. The dog
hadn’t climbed all the way into his lap but was up on her back feet, making it
easy for him to caress her. She didn’t seem very interested in the bones in the
fireplace though the unpleasant odor was strong inside the room.

“Lieutenant Vince Manoogin, this is Raphael James. Raphael,
I see you have already introduced yourself to Hannah.”

Vince came forward quickly so that Raphael would not have to
move through the debris to meet him.

“A pleasure,” he said, confirming Juliet’s suspicion that
this was a very unusual policeman. Most cops would have started asking for
facts and statements long before this, especially when they caught a whiff of
the body.

“The pleasure is mine,” Raphael said formally though his
dignity was a little impaired by a lap full of wiggling dog.

“The body is over there?” Manoogin finally asked.

“The skeleton, yes,” Juliet said. “There isn’t much else
left.
Just hair, bone, and some clothing.”

“If you don’t mind, I am going to put Hannah through her
paces though it is quite obvious where the body is.”

“Hannah’s still in training,” Juliet explained and Raphael’s
lips twitched. “Please go ahead. I would enjoy seeing her work.”

“Hannah,” Vince said in a serious voice and Hannah
immediately got down and stopped wiggling though she still had a slight tremor
in her body. Her eyes were fixed on Manoogin. He didn’t give any more verbal
instruction, just gestured with his hand.

The spaniel got right down to business and trotted to the
fireplace where she scratched once on the rock and then sat at attention.

“Good girl,” Vince said and patted her head. “Okay, you can
go play.”

Hannah barked once and then headed right back for Raphael.
Her paws had mortar dust on them which was instantly transferred to Raphael’s linen
slacks. If the great man minded, it didn’t show.

Vince knelt and shone his flashlight around the hole.

“It’s a skeleton alright.
Probably female.
Sorry, I’ll have to call it in and make it official. Garret mentioned that some
toes might be getting stepped on because of this?”

“I fear so. The castle remodel is a project for charity and
there are tight deadlines. Mr. Kingman is obviously concerned about staying on
schedule.”

And avoiding any gossip that might interfere with the eventual
sale of the castle, Juliet added to herself.

“This shouldn’t delay him much. We will have to open the
chimney up a bit more to remove the remains,” he warned. “We’ll try not to make
it look like Godzilla has been visiting.”

“Please, tear it to rubble. It needs to come out,” Juliet
said decisively. “By the way, I’ve done a bit of research about the castle and
ran across a story about a head nurse disappearing back in the twenties when
the hospital was closed down. I don’t know that it’s her in there, but she
seems to be wearing a uniform of some kind.”

“Thanks. That gives us a place to start.” He stood and
pulled out a phone. “Can I get reception up here?”

“Yes, it’s best by the east windows.” Juliet pointed.

“By the way, are there usually guards at the gatehouse?”

“Yes. From seven to seven and then they lock the gates for
the night.”

“Well, no one is there now.”

“Oh really?”
Juliet and Raphael
exchanged glances. “That’s odd.”

 
 
Chapter 3
 

Lieutenant
Manoogin
had just
finished calling for the forensic team when they heard a screech of lamentation
from below. It sounded like: “My table! Oh God! Who did this? Where is everyone?”

“I’ll go,” Juliet said, recognizing Sandra’s voice. “Miss
Kane is a little … high-strung.”

“I better come too,” Manoogin said. “I need to meet the
others and guide them up.”

Juliet smiled a quick apology to Raphael for their
abandonment and got a wave of his hand in return.

Hannah barked and then, apparently happy with the echo, she
barked again. Manoogin said her name, reminding her of her professional
dignity. Torn between following her boss, who sounded exasperated and who
wasn’t ordering her to heel, and staying with Raphael in the smelly, echoing
room, she opted for the tower and ear rubs.

They were a little slower going down the stairs than up
them, but no more than two minutes had passed before they reached the dining
room where Sandra was crying hysterically, her harsh sobs echoing off the hard
metal surfaces of her custom table and eight electric chairs. Her short hair
looked like an abused hedgehog and her face was flushed an ugly ham color that
Juliet associated with coronary problems. There was no blood on her, but Juliet
assumed from the strength of her crying that she was somehow injured.

“Sandra,” Juliet exclaimed, starting forward and then
stopping when she got a look at what was beyond the low arch. It would be hard
not to see it. The lighting in the dining room was as subtle as a sonic boom
and bounced blindingly off the white marble floor. The whole place looked like
an abandoned skating rink.
One with a body in it.

“Oh damn.
Lieutenant?”

“I see him,” Manoogin said grimly from right behind her.
“Who is it?”

“I—I think
it’s
Randolph Kingman.”

“Of course it’s Dolph—and he’s dead!” the hedgehog shrieked.
“And someone has dented my table! Oh God! I’m going to be sick!” And with this
prediction, Sandra bolted for the half bath down the corridor that led to the
kitchen.

Vince Manoogin didn’t try to stop her. He went to the body
and tried for a pulse. No rigor, Juliet noted. But there wouldn’t be. Dolph had
been alive only … she consulted her watch. Forty minutes ago.

Unwillingly she noticed that there was a bit of red-hued
sawdust on his pant legs. That might or might not mean anything. There was
sawdust in the courtyard from the carpenters and some of the artists who worked
in wood. It could have been picked up at any time if Dolph had walked through
the worksite.

“Well, I guess
it’s
good you called
for a forensic team already,” Juliet said, then wished she had kept quiet. It
would be more normal to scream or faint or start crying. And here she was
trying to make Manoogin think that she was some normal person.

Esteban walked in just then. He didn’t gasp at the sight of
the body but Juliet could see he was taken aback by the tableau. It wasn’t
every day you found a corpse spread-eagled with its head turned around
backward. Lying stretched on the stainless steel table, Randolph Kingman looked
like he was already laid out in a morgue and awaiting embalming.

“Thank goodness you’ve come,” Juliet said, moving toward
Esteban before the lieutenant could speak. “I’m afraid Raphael is stuck in the
tower and I’ll need help getting him down.”

Esteban pulled his eyes away from the corpse and focused on
Juliet.

“How the hell did he get up in the tower?” Esteban didn’t
wait for an answer. He turned to Vince Manoogin and, recognizing him as a
member of law enforcement, offered his hand. “Esteban Rodriguez,” he
volunteered.

The men shook but she could tell that Manoogin’s antennae
had just picked up on the fact that Esteban was not some average Joe. It was
some variation of deep calling unto deep. Or maybe more like two alpha dogs
sizing up each other.

“Esteban is also an artist and a neighbor. He isn’t working
on the castle though. We called him for help with Raphael after we found the
others had gone to lunch without us,” Juliet added. “Esteban, this is Lieutenant
Vince Manoogin. He’s here about the other body.
The one in
the chimney.”

Sounds of retching came from behind the bathroom door. They
echoed unpleasantly in the mostly empty room.

“You’ve had a busy day,
bella
. Two in one morning must be
a new record.”

BOOK: 4 Impression of Bones
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