Aria in Ice (19 page)

A minute later, Johnny and Corbin made a
grand entrance into the ballroom with Marta. The men did not look
happy. They were both shaking snow from bare heads and light
jackets. Wet gloves were peeled off and tossed without formalities
onto the marble coffin. Just looking at the pair was making me
freeze. I tried to forget what had sailed into my mind.

Johnny took a few large strides to end up
next to me and the harpischord. I pounded on the top and Fritz and
Shay poked their heads out. I performed the introductions bit for
Fritz, then asked, quietly, if Johnny and Corbin had been
arguing.

“No. Why?”

“Well, y’all looked less than pleased when
you arrived.”

“Oh. It’s not him. It’s Mother Nature. How
long have you been here?”

“Four hours. What’s up?”

“Not up. Down. As in falling. As in snow.
Lots of snow. Can we say ‘blizzard’?”

“You’re kidding. It was just a few breezy
flakes when Shay and I ventured out from Prague but not blizzard
conditions. This is weird. But kinda cool.”

“More than cool. Downright cold. The
temperature has probably dropped a good sixty degrees since this
morning. Corbin can’t work outside anymore so he’s ticked. I don’t
really care since the mural is upstairs, but he was suggesting that
we form a grave- digging detail to help him today—which I’m
extremely
not
into.”

Fritz was following this with a rapt, but
concerned, expression on his face. “Grave digging? Is that not
against the law?”

Johnny leaned down to add, “Not positive but
I hear it’s okay if you’re digging on your property and not opening
the last homes of the departed—which he isn’t—he’s mainly looking
at headstones and foot markers.”

Fritz nodded, then ducked back underneath the
musical instrument. So did Shay.

Johnny muttered. “No need to check
graves—they’ve all been razed so many times in that cemetery I’m
surprised they don’t have W-D 40 to make the hinges open more
smoothly.”

I winced. “Ouch. That’s a gross thought.”

“Sorry, Hon. Hell. That cemetery is gross. I
love the Duskova sisters, but the Duskovas from the last hundred
years or so were not exactly shy when it came to unearthing the
dead.”

Johnny’s volume dropped. “Who’s the kid I’ve
just been conversing with? Other than someone named Fritz who seems
to be bonding rather nicely with Shay.”

I kept mine low as well. “New piano tuner.
Not to sound cynical but thankfully he’s lasted longer than the
last. I’m assuming he’s a total innocent and no one has reason to
pitch his body because he’s clueless as to
Kouzlo Noc’s
history.”

Wrong on that. Fritz ooched out from under
the harpsichord again and stated, “The grave robbers are looking
for the body of the flute player who lived here in the summer of
1792. He was murdered, you see, and his flute never found.”

I sighed and appealed to Johnny. “Why are we
trying to keep this a secret when it seems clear the legend of
Ignatz Jezek and his flute has gotten more coverage in the world
than a pop singer’s sex change?”

Johnny nodded. “Someone needs to tell
Veronika that everyone and his brother knows. Keep her from having
a heart attack whenever the words Mozart or flute are
mentioned.”

“What did you say?”

Veronika stood behind Johnny. She looked like
our friend Bambi in the headlights staring into the oncoming car.
“Johnny? Iss this true? Who knows about Ignatz Jezek and his
flute?”

He patted her shoulder. “Well, truth is—who
doesn’t? It’s a given everyone here is well aware of the whole
treasure hunting past of
Kouzlo Noc
.”

She evenly stated, “Achh, perhaps that is
best. If something iss not so secret perhaps truth will finally
emerge and Ignatz will be at peace. But I feel evil, here in my
heart.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Someone in this time
wants to find the flute and use it for bad purpose. Jozef tells me
this last night when he brings books and I believe this. I am
ashamed to admit I now belief Gustav died because of this, although
I do not understand how or why.”

I took her hand in mine. “Perhaps if we work
together to find out what happened to Ignatz and his flute we can
prevent another century of grave robbing and despair here?”

She smiled. “You are nice. I am sorry I was
cold to you when you explore north wing. I was afraid you would not
like us and not want to use
Kouzlo Noc
because of that mens
haf been murdered there. And iss not safe.”

Johnny inhaled. “Say what? Are you telling us
that Ignatz was murdered there? In the north wing?”

She looked horrified. “Oh no! No. Iss not
Ignatz I am speaking of although I fear he too wass murdered. I am
speaking off stories from centuries. Iss someone who came searching
for the flute many many years ago. Before I was born. Before my
mother was born. I hear story that soldier came looting through
Kouzlo Noc
for the treasure. He iss found here—found in
north wing. So he destroys room and he was killed by being pushed
down stairs. In north wing. But no one in my family says they did
it. Iss mystery who kills him. But his body was buried in the old
cemetery—the place Corbin works in. He wass given Christian burial
by my great-grandfather even though the soldier had come to do
evil.” She paused. “And then of course, there wass the tuning
man—no—I hope, that is I thought, that wass accident—but I am
afraid.”

Johnny and I exchanged a quick look. Shay was
oblivious since she was too entranced watching Fritz play with a
tuning fork. I tried to see if anyone else had noticed Veronika’s
comment about Gustav, but everyone seemed lost in thoughts of past
centuries.

Any further revelations came to a quick halt
when Jozef Jezek suddenly appeared in the ballroom dressed in a
wool cape covered with snow.

Johnny checked his watch. It was close to
four-thirty in the afternoon. “Durn. Jozef was supposed to be up at
the castle no later than three today. The roads must be awful.”

Jozef was clearly distressed. The man with
the perfect English kept shouting in Czech, letting Veronika
translate for him. “We are in snowstorm! That iss very bad.” Her
eyes widened in horror as she screamed the rest of his words. “But
snow does not matter! There iss body in moat! He says he sees white
on body—but moat is blackness! Hear me? There iss body!”

It was shaping up to be an interesting
afternoon at the castle.

Jozef, having shocked everyone in the
ballroom, immediately turned and ran toward the hallway which led
to the back entrance. Johnny and I took off after the bookseller.
Fritz, pale behind his wire-rim specs, held onto the shaking
Veronika. Shay, Franz, Corbin and Mitchell sprinted behind Johnny
and me. Lily walked quickly over to a stunned Marta, who’d just
come in from the kitchen with a huge plate of goodies. She calmly
took the tray out the woman’s arms and placed it on the marble
coffin. Not the best choice perhaps, but secure and the closest
available piece of furniture.

Jozef had pushed open the huge doors. An
incredible whiteness met our eyes. Those tiny flakes from this
morning had indeed had become a blinding blizzard. Our coats had
been placed neatly on a rack as each person had arrived at various
times during the day, but it was obvious that the spring-weight
hoodie I’d worn when Shay and I had first arrived this morning was
no match for the elements outside. She’d been right. We should have
headed back to Prague when we first saw the light fall of snow on
our way to the castle.

Johnny barred Shay and me from trying to join
the rescue—or recovery—group. I knew he was shielding us from both
the cold and the sight that doubtless awaited outside, but I
resented not being able to help. Completely illogical, since aside
from dealing with blizzard conditions, I didn’t really want to test
my bravery—which currently felt non-existent.

“Guys, we don’t need the girls to freeze to
death. Jozef will guide us and Corbin and Franz and are better
equipped to deal with this—and better clothed too. Abby, Shay—just
hang tough in here. We’ll get back as fast as we can. Lily, you
stay, too.”

I lost any desire to argue. Shay and Lily
nodded in agreement. If we forced our way into joining the guys
we’d only end up frozen, useless and a hindrance to the whole
operation. So we stayed huddled in our flimsy jackets by the open
door and tried to see any movement other than swirls of snow and
ice pellets. I kept quiet. I already knew what was about to
happen.

It took them less than two minutes to follow
Jozef to the moat and return with the cold lifeless body of Trina
Duskova.

An agonized scream rang out behind us. “Oh,
God, no! No! My baby sister. Trina. No! This iss wrong, so wrong!”
Fritz hadn’t managed to keep Veronika in the ballroom and she stood
by the door staring as Franz and Johnny bullied their way through
the snow and gently carried her sister into the castle. Corbin
walked beside them, holding what appeared to be a frozen scarf of
Trina’s. Marta joined Veronika and the pair clung to each other and
sobbed with such despair I felt daggers pierce my heart.

The men took Trina’s body into the ballroom.
The rest of us followed. I held my breath for a moment wondering if
they would be crass enough to use the coffin for a resting place.
For an instant in my awful imagination I could see teacups swept
off in one motion to make room for Trina. I shut my eyes to the
vision and was pleased to see that Johnny and Franz were carefully
placing the corpse on the sofa. Veronika wouldn’t care about snow
melting onto the fragile fabric.

For a moment we all stood silent, unsure of
what to say, or even where to look. I’ve never been around someone
who’s just died. Never seen a body that didn’t pass away in a bed
surrounded by loved ones. Trina had died, not from illness, but
from—what? Drowning? Hypothermia? Alone and doubtless
terrified.

Veronika, Marta and Jozef knelt by the sofa
and began to pray. Johnny crossed the room to where Shay and I
stood.

“Johnny? Any idea about what happened? Did
she faint? Why on earth was she outside in this storm?”

He sounded tired. “No clue. She had a light
coat on—like she went out much earlier today. Bet Veronika can tell
us why. But how she ended up in the moat is anyone’s guess right
now.” He gestured toward my bag, sitting snugly next to the
harpsichord. “Do you have your cell? We need to call the Prague
police.”

“What’s wrong with the landline? Is the power
out?”

“Apparently. I tried making a call before
Jozef came in and I got nothing.”

I hurried over to my bag, took out the cell,
turned the power on and handed it over. “Looks like the cell towers
are working either. My battery is good but I’m not getting a
signal.”

“Great. A stinking snowstorm, a dead body and
no communication. It’s going to be a rough night.”

Corbin and Franz joined us. Corbin pulled a
cap off his head and dusted off the flakes of snow as though he
were blaming them for Trina’s death. “I’m at a loss here. Such a
crazy, freak accident. I’ve known the Duskovas for five years and
they’re so close. What on earth was Trina doing outside in this
mess?”

I tapped Johnny’s shoulder. “Guys, I’m going
to head up to one of the bedrooms and find something to cover her
with. She just looks so… cold there. That can’t be good for
Veronika and Marta to see.”

“I’ll come with you.” This from Shay.

We took off for the rooms Veronika had shown
me only a few days ago. The sweet wedding-patterned quilt I’d seen
in one of the bedrooms we’d planned to use for
Silhouette
Tower
would be better served to lay over Trina than as a pretty
background piece for the film. I stopped. I’d seen that quilt in my
vision only hours before. The damn thing had come true.

Shay and I managed to stay silent until we
hit the bedroom. Then the floodgates opened.

“Oh damn, Shay. Gothic atmosphere is one
thing. Hearing a ghost is cool. But another murder?”

“Wait! You just jumped a damn large water
hole there. Trina was
murdered
?”

“I’d give that a yes. With what happened to
Gustav? I mean, what is a seventy-odd-year old woman doing
wandering out in a snowstorm, in less than warm clothes, near a
moat that hasn’t been utilized in the last hundred years or
so?”

Shay tried to smile; failed. “Well, when you
put it that way.” She shivered. “Abby, that storm is bad. I wonder
when Trina actually died? That’s important.”

“You’re right. If she died after the blizzard
started that’s a good indication that the only suspects are folks
inhabiting
Kouzlo Noc
at this very moment since not even a
chipmunk could navigate in that storm.”

We stared at each other. I sat down on the
quilted spread and started to shake. “Shit. Can we not slide down
that hill? At least not yet? My acting skills are not up to
pretending to one and all that I’m not petrified to get snowbound
in a castle with a killer. The other death didn’t feel like this. I
mean Gustav’s. It seemed removed from all of us even though Johnny
believed that someone here was involved. But this? It’s close. Way
too close.”

She grimaced. “Are we rushing to conclusions?
I mean, who’s to say that Trina didn’t go out to get the mail or
something, and suddenly see a—uh,—a stray cat. And try and get the
kitty indoors before the cold hit. And wandered too far and
couldn’t see in the storm and just fell. It’s a theory, right?”

I nodded. “I like it a hell of a lot better
than imagining someone sneaking up behind her and tossing her into
the moat. And for what reason?”

Shay sat down next to me. “I’m stunned.
Trina. Sweet, fantastic chef Trina. Who had about three words of
English on a good day. ‘Hello’, ‘pretty’, and ‘do you want more
pastries’?”