Murder of the Belvedere Eye
Chapter 8, the Final Chapter
8- The Snap of Rope
The snap of the ropes cracked like the breaking of a tree branch. Belham, Pollick, and Lady Harlen all twisted and choked, clawing at their hemp necklaces, dangling from the belvedere. The estate guests sat at round tables, breaking their fasts in the garden, watching the spectacle. I shared a table with Doctor Pagus, Glastius, and Lord Harlen. Pagas kept asking me about the robes. I had to keep slapping his hands away. Glastius was snoring with his eyes open. Lord Harlen’s jaw was set hard, his teeth grinding into one another. Glastius had delivered the silver from the front gate in a grain bag. Harlen held it in his lap and stroked it as if it were a puppy.
On the road in front of the mansion, bodyguards, servants, and handmaidens were scrambling to ready their caravans.
“Most of my order left,” Pagus said. “When they heard that the eyes were never found, they realized they were needed elsewhere.”
“I’ll be on my way as well,” I said to the lord.
He looked at me sideways.
“I have half a mind to offer you adoption,” the lord said.
“I am no ruler, Harlen. I sulk in the shadows.”
“Your wit is fine and your sense of purpose is sharp as a blade, Rummy. You would do well to lead.”
“In another life,” I said, waving it off. “Perhaps-” I looked at the sleeping commander.
“Glastius?” Harlen asked.
“He is not perfect, but who is? He knows honor from pride. You could do much worse for an heir.”
“And I’d have a grandchild as well,” Lord Harlen said, stroking his chin.
“What you need is a dog, not a cat.”
“Very well. I’ll have my steward take care of it.”
I slid the keeper’s necklace across the table.
The lord lifted the chain around his neck. Then he took out a purse and placed it on the table. I lifted the bag and was surprised at the weight. It weighed of gold.
I stood.
“Take care, Harlen. Doctor.”
I left the garden and the bodies hanging in it. I looked up at the ravens that circled above.
#
When I was a good distance from the iron wall, in a wide-open field of rock, I pulled out the small jewelry box from Lady Harlen’s room. Inside the box was a glass jar, just large enough to hold two eyeballs. It smelled of cat. I shut the box, thinking about southern rum.
The road welcomed me as I headed out beneath the midday sun.
My next story, City Lady Country Killer, will be coming out next week!