Murder at the Cosmopolitan
Part 6. Felicidad's Story
Thaumont 9, Paparazzi Glantri Headquarters, Glantri City.
“But that can’t be! That’s all wrong!” cried Felicidad.
Beatriz had just finished reading Olga’s letter. The other sheets were spread about the table, showing some Flaemish genealogical charts, lists of rulers of Fenswick, and a passage from a history about the Flaems.
“What do you mean, Felicidad? I think Olga has provided a clear solution to our mystery.”
“But you see, it wasn’t Baldewijn de Woens ‘o was playing Volospin that night. They found ‘is body floating in the canals beneath the theatre today. ‘E was murdered and then replaced on stage by the assassin, which gave the assassin a chance to fly up to Princess Dolores’ box and shoot ‘er with a lightning bolt.”
Felicidad’s revelation shocked her audience to silence, except for Gaston was laughing drunkenly.
“I could’ve told you zat! I saw ‘im dump ze body into ze canals. Eh-eh-eh!”
Kassar turned to Gaston sternly, “Why didn’t you tell us that earlier? Did you see who it was?”
“Eh-eh-eh!” replied Gaston, taking a drink from his bottle, “It was Volospin alright! Dressed up in blue, ‘air all wind-blown, face like a madman! Eh-eh-eh!”
“The assassin must have dressed up in character before he got rid of the body,” Kassar concluded. “It was a good twenty minutes between the last scene with Volospin and the climax of Act Two. Enough time for a murder and a quick change.”
“Specially if you’re ‘asted! Eh-eh-eh!” added Gaston.
Kassar remembered the potion of speed that was missing that night, after some of it had been used on the prima donna Catalya Larkstryll.
The Paparazzi Glantri were all lost in their own thoughts.
“How did you learn of this, Felicidad?” asked Beatriz.
“I met an old friend tonight, ‘o told me about it.”
Kassar shot an accusatory glance at Felicidad, “Is your friend working for the Constabulary?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Felicidad replied, obviously annoyed. “The Constabulary won’t release this information until next week, when they can be sure it was Baldewijn de Woens.”
Kassar continued to pry, “And you ended your evening with your friend early, just to share with us this juicy bit of information?”
Felicidad glared at Kassar. She had turned from amorous to icy in that glance. Kassar was just happy she quit making advances at him.
Beatriz took control of the conversation, saying, “So, who was the assassin then?”
“Did he belong to the assassins’ guild?” asked Kassar.
“No,” said Beatriz with a finality that the others did not question her. Beatriz was pleased to keep privileged knowledge to herself, until Gaston simply blurted out in the next sentence.
“Eh-eh-eh! It wasn’t ze Unseen Hand who did it, ‘cuz if it was, zen Dolores would know from ‘er new Caurenzan friend, an’ she wudden’ be botherin’ us Paparazzi, eh, Beatriz?” Gaston said from the couch.
Beatriz shot Gaston a murderous gaze. The others knew that if Gaston continued such indiscretions about the leader of the Unseen Hand, it would be no surprise Felicidad’s friend would discover Gaston’s body sharing the same fate as Baldewijn de Woen’s—face down in a canal.
“We don’t know anything about the assassin, since ‘e was disintegrated by John Beaumarys-Moorkroft.” Felicidad stated.
“Which is quite convenient in itself, wouldn’t you say?” added Kassar.
“But we already know the Archduke and Princess Dolores don’t get along. I just don’t think it’s Lord John’s style to be so roundabout in getting rid of any enemy,” said Felicidad.
“What about Dolores’ other enemies? Jaggar? Malachie?”
“Maybe Malachie wanted to be rid of Noussoir as well.” Felicidad suggested.
“Princess Dolores has many enemies,” Beatriz said with authority. “Any one of them could have hired an assassin. Even people who are not her enemies could, just to implicate her real enemies. My primary concern is what the Paparazzi will report to Princess Dolores, when she asks what we have learned about her assassination.”
Kassar said, trying to ease the tension, “I think Olga’s report is quite complete in itself. Fully documented. Well researched. And highly plausible. We should submit it to the Princess. And if she doesn’t believe us—or if the Paparazzi Glantri is proven wrong later on—well, it will not be the first time.”
Beatriz, Kassar and Felicidad looked at each other in agreement. Gaston took a generous swill of his drink and gave a merry little laugh.
This time, Felicidad was the one to react.
“What are you laughing at now, Gaston?”
“I was just thinkin’... I wonder wha’ Dolores felt... when she saw ze face of ‘er dead father Volospin... flyin’ towards ‘er... shootin’ ‘em lightnin’ bolts at ‘er... It must ‘ave scared ‘er to ze bone!”
