“Oh, no! It’s for another story entirely. I’m always on the lookout for a crime to report.”
“You’ll have to go somewhere other than Mirror Lake then. Rats are too sensible for senseless violence.”
She covered her suspicions with a blank gaze. Surely he knew that some creature had busted the lamp and escaped through the window. Or did Edward truly think it was the wind, or something like that? In any case, he didn’t want the idea of crime brought up. Perhaps that was understandable, considering Dotty’s accusation of the worst crime imaginable.
“If that’s all,” Edward said, still scrupulously polite but pretty clearly wanting to get rid of Vera, “I have some documents to look over regarding the mine, and I need to talk to the foreman….”
Vera stood up, busily gathering her things. “Of course, I’ve taken up far too much of your time. Thank you for speaking with me. I’ve got plenty of good information for the obituary, and once again, I want to extend my condolences on the loss of your mother.”
He smiled sadly. “Thank you. I always knew this day would come, but that doesn’t make it any easier.” In Edward’s eyes, Vera caught the hint of deep sorrow, the sort of pain that a typically rational rat would deny feeling.
As she walked briskly out of the parlor, she nearly collided with a badger who was waiting in the foyer, sitting awkwardly in a chair that was much fancier than the creature’s outfit.
“Sorry!” Vera yelped, dancing sideways to avoid tripping over the badger’s big paws.
He retracted his legs as quickly as he could, and tried to stand up at the same time, which resulted in an odd ballet of movements that threatened to go badly, though at the end, the badger managed to not only stand but also doff his hat.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said. “I was just waiting for Mr. Springfield, and I nodded off.”
“You must be the mine’s foreman,” she guessed, remembering Edward’s earlier words.
“That’s right. Clarence Hobbs, at your service.” He gave a polite bob of the head.
“Pleasure, Mr. Hobbs. I’m Vera Vixen.” He didn’t seem to recognize her name, which was a bit of a relief. She went on, “Do you always come here to talk to Mr. Springfield? It must be quite a journey.” From all her research, she’d learned that there were several mines, all located in the hills to the northwest, a distance that would take a full day’s travel for a land-bound creature.
The badger shook his head. “No, that’d be impractical. Normally, I just message the daily reports and Mr. Springfield messages back. Ira—he’s a hawk—is employed full-time as courier. But what with the funeral and all, I guess Mr. Springfield was too distracted to keep to the schedule.”
Before Vera could say anything else, a voice came from behind her. “Ah, Mr. Hobbs, of course! Come in, come in!”
She turned to see Edward standing in the doorway, a broad smile on his face as though he had no cares in the world. The façade was not convincing, and Vera felt another pang of sympathy for the poor creature. Perhaps the reason he didn’t report any break-in was simply because he was overwhelmed. After all, only the lamp was damaged, and nothing was actually stolen. What if Edward just couldn’t face the paperwork?
Hobbs went in and closed the door behind him. Vera stood alone in the foyer, and she looked down at the beautiful crimson rug covering the center of the floor. Without waiting a moment longer, she knelt and flicked the corner of the rug back, then rolled several feet of it into a tube to expose the floor underneath.
The wide oak floorboards were the same as the rest of the room’s…except for the slightly faded appearance and the dulled finish, unlike the shiny, waxed coating of the floor everywhere else. Back in the city, Vera had once needed to clean her own home and left it too late, so she figured that a strong blend of bleach in the wash water would clean everything twice as fast. Instead, she’d discovered that the chemical interaction with the wax gave her floor a milky, cloudy coating that never came out.
These floors looked just the same, and Dot had been adamant that she never used bleach. Vera put her nose down to the floor and sniffed, recoiling at the sharp odor of bleach. Yes, someone had definitely done a hasty cleaning job here. If there was ever blood on the floor, it wasn’t there any longer.
She rose and started to kick the rug back into place…the lovely crimson wool rug with a deep pile.
Crimson, Vera mused. Seized by that thought, she knelt once more and peered more closely at the rug. Seeing a slight change in the hue near the right corner, she touched the woolen tufts and felt a slight crustiness, as if something dried there. And when she pulled her paw away and sniffed, she caught the unmistakable scent of dried blood.
* * * *
Vera hurried out of the Springfield house, disturbed by the discovery. It lent much more weight to Dot’s accusation…but even if there was blood, what did it mean? There was still no body, and if Edward was there in the house and Dot was at Bramblebriar, who could have been killed?
Vera thought it would be prudent to visit the Mirror Lake branch of the Shady Hollow Public Library for a few more details of the family. Although she considered it important to support Lenore’s bookstore, she was also a regular patron of the library. She used its facilities for much of her research, and for some of the many books that she read. If she purchased every single book that she read from Nevermore, she