Top O' The Mournin' - Part 25
Library

Part 25

"Nice try," I said, dismissing her with a look. "I'm really afraid. You should consider chain-smoking. It kills people, you know." The operator answered. "This is Em--"

CHOOOOUNG!.

I dropped the phone and hit the floor as a bullet zinged past my head and thunked into the wall. Okay. Now I was afraid.

"Do I have your attention, Emily? Be a good girl now. Hang up the phone and come on back over here."

I juggled the receiver onto its cradle and took hesitant steps back toward Ashley, my gaze riveted on the pistol in her hand.

"So what am I going to do with you, sugar? Too bad you know so much. That's gonna make it hard for me to let y'all live."

This might be a good time to reconsider my habit of screaming "It's you!" when I figure out the killer's ident.i.ty. Something to think about. If I lived that long.

Knock knock knock.

I looked expectantly at Ashley. "It could be the ambulance."

"It's Ireland, sugar. Don't hold your breath. WHO IS IT?" she yelled at the door. "It's Nana, dear."

She motioned me to a chair with her gun. "Sit down and don't move a muscle. If you try anything--anything at all--your granny's going to end up looking like a hunk of Swiss cheese. Understand?"

I nodded. "Did you know there's no such thing as Swiss cheese? It's called Emmen--"

"Shut up, Emily."

"Okay."

I sat worrying my lip and scratching my arms and neck as Ashley opened the door. "Mrs. Sippel. Ms. Hovick. Why, come right on in. Emily's a little tied up at the moment, but I know she'll welcome y'all's company."

"We're here about Bernice," I heard Nana say as she crossed the threshold. She looked like a Concord grape in her Minnesota Vikings warm-up suit. Tilly followed close behind, dressed in her standard pleated skirt and leaning heavily on her walking stick. Nana waved across the room when she saw me. "h.e.l.lo, dear. I just wanted to let you know that Tilly and me are takin' a taxi to Letterkenny to bail Bernice outta jail. Don't know why they decided to go to Letterkenny instead of Derry, but she got picked up for pa.s.sin' bad money. Alice just called from the police station. She wanted to talk to you, but your line was busy, so she talked to us instead."

"Okay. That's great. You better wait out in the lobby for the taxi," I said, hoping to rush them out the door. "Be careful. Bye."

"She talked to Ashley earlier," Nana went on, giving Ashley a stern look, "but Ashley's only advice to her was to b.u.g.g.e.r off."

"You told Alice to b.u.g.g.e.r off?" I gasped at Ashley. "But she needed your help!"

"Hel-looo? Golden Irish Vacations guests aren't asked to fill out evaluation forms for the tour leader, so I can say anything I want."

"You're a poor amba.s.sador of Southern hospitality," Tilly scolded.

Ashley shrugged. "I'll fill you in on a little secret. Southern hospitality? It's all smoke and mirrors. Pure hog-wash. All right, ladies, I'm getting real tired of the small talk, so why don't we save some time here and cut to the chase." She played a little peekaboo with her gun, waving it at them with a theatrical flourish. Nana reacted by nearly choking on her breath. Tilly remained calm. Tilly had probably fended off hordes of flesh-eating cannibals in New Guinea, so this was no big deal.

"I'm not sure I understand what this is all about," Nana complained as Ashley herded them in my direction.

"Meet the Ballybantry ghost," I informed them.

"You're the ghost?" Nana exclaimed.

"Ta-da!" chimed Ashley.

"Is that gun loaded?" Tilly asked.

"It's loaded," I warned. "So, please, do what she says."

"You're the ghost," Nana repeated. "Oh, my word. OH, MY WORD," she cried when she saw Etienne. "What happened? He's not dead, is he?"

"The portrait fell on him. He's not dead, but he's bleeding badly."

"Did you call an ambulance?" she asked.

I nodded.

"What's that thing between his legs?"

"It's a cross between a G-string and a thong," I explained.

"It's his p.e.n.i.s," said Tilly. "Although it's more typical in our culture to refer to it by its various euphemisms. d.i.c.k. p.r.i.c.k. Peter. p.e.c.k.e.r. Mickey. Roger."

"I didn't know they could grow to that size," Nana said in awe. "You suppose it's real?"

"Of course it's real! Why does everyone think it's not real?"

"Have you looked?"

"I don't need to look!"

Nana gave a little suck on her teeth. "I'd look."

Tap tap tap.

"Kee-REIST!" screamed Ashley, glaring at the door.

"What are we having in here? A freaking convention?"

"That'll be George," said Nana. "He'll be wantin' to let us know when to expect the cab. He made the phone call for us. He's such a gentleman."

Ashley jabbed her gun at the two empty chairs near me. "Sit," she instructed Nana and Tilly. "And no funny stuff. Or else what happens, Emily?"

"Swiss cheese," I droned.

Nana furrowed her brow at me. "I thought there was no such thing as Swiss cheese."

Ashley thumped to the door. Nana angled her head to observe Etienne from another perspective. "I don't recollect your grampa's bein' that big. You s'pose your young man takes vitamins? Do you have any idea what kind?"

"Well, if it isn't George," Ashley enthused. "Come on in. Join the crowd."

"I just wanted to give Marion a message," he said as he crossed into the room. "The taxi will be here in--Is that a gun?"

"Bingo." She poked it in his face and motioned him toward us.

He raised his hands in the air like a nabbed TV bad guy and marched in our direction. "Does this mean we won't be needing the cab? I should probably call them back to cancel. I mean, that would be the polite thing to do. Holy cow!" he blurted when he saw Etienne. "What happened to him?"

"Picture fell on his head," said Nana.

"No. I mean about his roger."

"IT'S REAL ALREADY!" I shrieked.

George nodded matter-of-factly. "Looks like the trend to downsize is affecting more than just the Hershey bar these days."

We all stared at George with eyes as round as teacups. Nana's mouth contorted into an O of surprise before sliding into a euphoric smile. She caught my eye. "You can forget about those vitamins, dear."

Ashley stood to the side of George, panning her gun from left to right at all of us. "Well, are we all here? Or are we expecting more guests?"

"It would be nice if Jackie and Tom stopped by," Nana suggested. "They're a real interestin' couple."

"The ambulance should be arriving shortly," I reminded Ashley. "Are you planning to hold the paramedics at gun-point too?"

"That pistol of hers only holds six bullets," George observed.

"And she's spent one already," I said. "So that leaves five. If you're hoping to kill all of us, you better hope there's only one paramedic, else you're going to be a few bullets short."

From a great distance, we heard a faint whir of a far-off siren. I c.o.c.ked my head, straining to hear, then smiled. "I'd guess that's the ambulance now. Luck of the Irish. They're early."

She did a shifty thing with her eyes, looking a bit indecisive, before bolstering herself up on her crutches. "All right, y'all. Everybody up." She urged us to our feet with her gun. "Form a line now. Short people in front. And no arguing! It's not an exact science."

Nana took her place at the front of the line, followed by George, me, then Tilly. "I'd like to be at the back a the line once," said Nana, "just to get a different perspective."

"Very good," Ashley complimented us. "Now, very slowly, walk toward the closet."

"What are we gonna do once we're there?" asked Nana.

"You're going inside," said Ashley.

I saw Nana shake her head. "Tilly just come out of the closet. I'm not sure she's keen on headin' back in again."

Ashley shadowed along beside us as we marched to the deep-set mirrored closet that flanked the bathroom door. "Stop right there," she directed when we were about five feet away. "Don't anyone move." She hobbled around us, slid open the closet door, backed inside, switched her gun to her left hand, then with her right, pressed something near the hanging rod that caused the wall behind her to glide open, revealing a hidden pa.s.sageway of dark, unlit stone and a smell of dankness that hit us full in the face.

"Well, would you lookit that," Nana marveled.

"Secret pa.s.sages," I muttered. That's how they'd been able to leave their b.l.o.o.d.y footprints, and rearrange furniture, and steal personal items, and scare people to death. They could come in through the closet and leave again without ever being seen. I wondered if the pa.s.sages had shown up on the detailed map I'd seen in Ashley's tour bag. Duh! Why hadn't I been more curious?

"The whole castle is a maze of hidden pa.s.sageways," Ashley explained as she hobbled back into the room. "Of course, no one knew that until we did the renovations. They're great to creep around in, but I think their real beauty is you can hide lots of bodies in there without anyone ever finding them." She brandished her pistol at us. "Poof! All gone." She motioned Nana into the closet. "Go ahead, sugar. Time's a wastin'."

This gave a whole new meaning to the term "walk-in closet." Nana poked her head inside the enclosure, gave it the once-over, and popped inside. George followed close on her heels. I knew if I stepped inside that closet, it would be all over, and I wasn't ready for it to be over. I didn't want to die! I needed a plan!

Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.

Ashley focused her pistol on me. "Stop that scratching."

"But I itch!" I felt a slight movement behind me. From the corner of my eye I saw Tilly's walking stick swing suddenly upward and drive hard into Ashley's wrist. Wump! Wump! The pistol flew out of Ashley's hand and dive-bombed onto the floor. "Get her gun!" I screamed, lunging onto the floor to grab it. The pistol flew out of Ashley's hand and dive-bombed onto the floor. "Get her gun!" I screamed, lunging onto the floor to grab it.

Ashley knocked it away with her crutch. It skidded across the carpet. I scrambled to my feet. Ashley thump-hopped across the room after it, then whipped around, standing guard over it. Letting one crutch fall to the floor, she balanced herself on her good foot and cast and seized her remaining crutch as if it were a Medieval battering ram. "Stay where you are," she threatened, swinging the crutch by its footpiece in a broad arc. Whoosh Whoosh to the right. to the right. Whoosh Whoosh to the left. "I can decapitate someone with this thing!" to the left. "I can decapitate someone with this thing!"

Standing a safe distance away from her crutch, I took my shoe off and gunned it at her. She whacked it with the crutch and sent it high-flying into the window. "Give it up," I warned, chucking my other shoe at her. She caught it on the fly and whacked it into foul territory in the other direction. She might be a miserable failure as a person, but she was an excellent hitter. "Did you play a lot of softball in Georgia?"

"Debutante's League. I had a four-oh-six lifetime batting average."

"Somebody throw me a weapon!" I cried.

I heard a flurry of activity behind me. A rush of footsteps. Tilly shoved a clothes hanger into my hand. I gauged the size of the hanger. I gauged the size of the crutch. I tossed the hanger aside. "I need something heavier!"

I glared at Ashley, trying to psyche her out. When she inched to her right, I inched to my left. When she inched to her left, I inched to my right. "Go for the gun and I'll be on you like green on a leprechaun," I taunted.

"Here you go, dear," said Nana, handing me the crystal paperweight with the colorful kites.

"Eh! I can't use that," I gasped, handing it back to her. "Etienne gave that to me. I think it's Waterford."

Nana checked the bottom. "Waterford. You're right. I wouldn't mind buyin' some Waterford while we're here."

More footsteps. The echo of sirens was getting louder, and closer. Ashley slanted a look at the window, then with an air of defiance, took aim at her gun with her crutch and batted it under the bed. "You want it?" she said, grinning at me. "Go get it." She cleared a path for herself with vicious swings of her crutch and limped toward the one escape route that was still open to her--the closet.

"Emily!" I turned toward the sound of George's voice and yelped as his artificial leg came rainbowing through the air at me. "Try that!"

Eh! I caught it against my chest with an I caught it against my chest with an "Oof," "Oof," then hefted it slightly to test its weight. Alone, it might have been too light, but with the steel-toed boot, it was perfect. I chased after Ashley, swinging the leg like a club. "Stop where you are!" I yelled at her. then hefted it slightly to test its weight. Alone, it might have been too light, but with the steel-toed boot, it was perfect. I chased after Ashley, swinging the leg like a club. "Stop where you are!" I yelled at her.

She stopped and planted her feet. Whoosh! Whoosh! She swung the crutch at me, just missing my head. BOOM! I slugged the crutch pad and arm piece with George's leg, sending shock waves up her arms. She swung the crutch at me, just missing my head. BOOM! I slugged the crutch pad and arm piece with George's leg, sending shock waves up her arms.

"Ow!" she whined. She jabbed the crutch at me again. I backhanded another powerful blow to the arm piece. CLONK! Crrrrack. Crrrrack.

"Hit her again," George yelled, balancing one-legged behind me.

"b.i.t.c.h!" she shrieked at me, staring at the splintered wood. "OoohhhHHHH!" She launched herself at me, swinging the crutch berserkly. I ducked. George didn't. The crutch caught him with an uppercut to his jaw. THUNK! He looked dazed for a millisecond, crossed his eyes, then collapsed to the floor like a ton of bricks. Well, maybe half a ton, what with his leg detached and all. she shrieked at me, staring at the splintered wood. "OoohhhHHHH!" She launched herself at me, swinging the crutch berserkly. I ducked. George didn't. The crutch caught him with an uppercut to his jaw. THUNK! He looked dazed for a millisecond, crossed his eyes, then collapsed to the floor like a ton of bricks. Well, maybe half a ton, what with his leg detached and all.

"George!" screamed Nana. "You killed him! You killed George."

Ashley regarded him without remorse. "I hope he is dead. I'm so sick of all you helpless old people."

An odd look crossed Nana's face. She narrowed her eyes at Ashley, made a wavy gesture with her hands, then crying, "EEEEEYAAAA!" she executed four quick skips across the floor and--BAM!--snapped her leg out and kicked the crutch out of Ashley's hands.

Ashley's mouth fell open. My mouth fell open. "EEEEEYAAAA!" Nana raised her knee and with a rapidfire thrust--WOOF!--drove the ball of her foot into Ashley's gut. Ashley doubled over, gasping for air, clutching her stomach. "EEEEEYAAAA!" Nana jumped straight up in the air, spun around like a top, then with her knee up and leg straight--WHAM!--smacked the top of her foot into Ashley's cheek.

BOOM! Ashley slumped to the floor in a lifeless heap.

I stared at Nana, agog. "What was that?" that?"

"A spinning roundhouse kick."