"You've had two turns with him, so now we'll take ours!" Miss Pink exclaimed.
And before I could lower my skirt, to keep Virgil from gawking at my wet, bare backside, I was hoisted by superhuman hands. They tossed me into Billy's cell with a heave-ho that sent me skittering backwards against the wall. Before the sickening clank of the cell door died away, those three bitches had disappeared into thin air.
Gripped by an invisible hand, the key twisted in the lock. Then it, too, flew from the room.
Chapter 5: A Woman With Wicked Intent
"Furmeister!" a familiar voice called from the front office. "The crew's here to construct the gallows for Tripplehorn, so-"
His Honor, Harold Legg, gaped at us from the doorway. "What the hell kind of game is this, Virgil? You're supposed to be supervising-I have a funeral to-"
He stared at me, his face growing paler. Without his powdered wig and billowing black robe, Harry looked old and ordinary: his black suit hung limply on his frame, and a halo of fuzz, like the down on a baby duck, framed his pate. The lines on his face were etched more deeply today.
His large hands gripped and released at his sides…hands that had encircled his daughter's neck? I had a vision of Lucy's body being shaken until it hung limp like a rag doll-but that didn't explain the tooth marks. Harold Legg had indeed sucked the lifeblood from many a petty criminal's career, but he'd done it in broad daylight, with the power of his position.
"I don't have time for these shenanigans, Deputy," he snapped. "Where's Billy?"
Our situation wasn't funny, but I swallowed a laugh. The potbellied lawman had fastened his fly and prepared his story for this moment of truth. But how could he explain that three Gypsies had charmed the pants off him, locked him in his own jail, and then spirited his prisoner away? The truth, no matter how plainly and sincerely told, would never convince the magistrate who grew more irate by the second.
"The Gypsies took him, Your Honor."
"Gypsies? What the hell did Etta put in your coffee?" When the judge stepped closer, his eyes looked bloodshot and I heard a slight waver in his voice. "For chrissakes, Virgil, this is no time for-"
"With all due respect, sir," Furmeister blustered, wiping his brow with his shirt sleeve, "I'm tellin' ya three purty ladies-wearin' nothin' but see-through suits-come in here durin' the wee hours, and they-well, I hate to say it, but you would've fallen for the same-"
"Cut the crap! You can't tell me three women bamboozled you into that cell and then made off with Tripplehorn!" Legg turned sharply on his heel. "I'm going to fetch the key-"
"They took that, too, Your Honor."
Virgil Furmeister made a sorry sight, shaking like an overgrown rabbit in a blue uniform. His Adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow when his boss wheeled around again in disbelief.
"They WHAT? Why do you think for one FUCKING minute that I'll believe-"
When the agitated magistrate broke off for air, I cleared my throat. "Incredible as it sounds, Mr. Furmeister's telling you exactly what happened. I saw it all myself! And I certainly didn't intend to get locked up as part of their escapade!"
The Judge's face lengthened into the weasel mask he wore when he was sorely displeased…or rendering a creative interpretation of the law. "And who might you be, Miss-?"
I glanced at the floor, feigning humility. "It's been years, Your Honor, so I can understand why you don't remember me as one of Miss Lucy's first nannies. When I heard she was dead, I hurried in here to see if the rumor was true-to get a good look at the man you had locked up. But three women had turned the front room into a-a circus!"
Legg crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. "And what exactly were they doing to my deputy?"
I glanced furtively at Virgil, whose expression now resembled the grey-green clouds that precede a tornado. Since I couldn't show myself as Alex Moore in the immediate future, I had to keep a few secrets for Furmeister, in hopes he'd do the same for me. "They were dancing, Your Honor-with such lewd and promiscuous moves that I believe they drugged his coffee! That must be how they were able to roll him back here on his chair, snatch his keys, and escape before he could overpower them. They say Gypsies know a thousand ways to distract a victim while taking advantage of him!"
The magistrate rolled his eyes. From outside came the ominous pounding of nails into lumber…the scaffolding and gallows designed to bring Billy Tripplehorn to swift justice and stand as an example to Redemption's other errant souls.
"Your story's no better than his, but that doesn't unlock these cells, does it?" he said peevishly. "I'm already late for my dear Lucy's funeral, so I'll just have to leave you two locked-"
I was rummaging in my reticule, to remedy this very predicament. "Try this, Your Honor. I have a buttonhook…and…a long, sturdy hairpin. Perhaps one of them will trip the locks."
He didn't ask how I might know this-so I didn't have to lie about my tiptoed trip into the front office, about an hour ago, when Furmeister finally dozed off. As I'd anticipated, I found a signed statement of Billy's guilt in the murder of Lucinda Legg on the deputy's messy desk-a document so falsified, the lawyer in me couldn't walk away without it. I could say those obnoxious Gypsies had made off with that, too, of course. Women so intent on rescuing the town stud would leave no evidence behind.
Legg was feverishly poking the buttonhook into the keyhole of his deputy's cell, twisting and lifting for the give of the tumbler. I watched him from between my iron bars, keeping an intense innocence on my face. After all, I'd jimmied the lock much faster myself while standing behind it! Finally we heard a dull click, and the two men exhaled their relief.
"Now, get your ass outside and be sure they tie that noose right!" the magistrate rasped. "No more mistakes! And not a word about Billy being gone, for God's sake! Just FIND him!"
Out the door he strode, my buttonhook in his hand. A nervous Virgil Furmeister followed him like a puppy, yapping about tracing the Gypsies' trail in the snow and other such nonsense. The only trail that overblown oaf could follow was the aroma of fresh pie coming from Etta's oven. Never mind about the bereaved nanny still stuck in the other damn cell!
I was smiling, however. Just waiting for their voices to fade through the front entrance…waiting for the stuffy little jailhouse to ring with silence after a night that defied description for all of us. Then I slipped through the cell door I'd left unlocked, careful not to let its hinges squeal on me.
I could only hope I'd learned enough by staying behind, risking my own future credibility, to clear Billy's name. As I blended with the back alley's shadows to reach my office again, the sight of that noose was a bleak reminder that, like the card in Pandora's tarot deck, Lady Justice balanced her scales in one hand-but wielded a terrible, swift sword with the other.
I had to do the prudent thing, before Billy and I got slashed with that weapon.
For nearly three hours I worked on files in my office with the lights off-long enough to watch from behind my closed curtains as Judge Legg and Nathaniel Dammet left the cemetery, but not long enough for the magistrate to start after Billy Tripplehorn. Quietly, still dressed in Andrea's dress and heavy cloak, I drove the buggy down the back alleys to the other side of town. I coaxed Dory into a canter when we reached the road.
Bless the little mare, she understood the urgency of my mission. We followed the meandering road through a countryside still dusted with snow, beneath a leaden sky that promised more by day's end. I shivered beneath my cloak, but as the orphanage and ivy-covered mansion came into view, it was more than mere weather chilling me to the core.
Had Pandora, Pink, and Perfidia spared Billy-three playful pusses toying with a new mouse? Or had they converged on him without mercy, to enslave him with their deadly passions? They would remind him, of course, that his eternal devotion was the least he owed them, for saving him from Judge Legg's noose-or even from the stranglehold Lucy would've caught him with, had she lived. They were a special, splendid trio of queens, but they expected a man's all in return for their favors!