Vera finished her careful perusing of the old papers from eleven years ago and returned them neatly to the cart. Then she thanked the librarian rabbit politely and made her way back upstairs into the daylight. As she walked she gathered her thoughts and put together a game plan. She knew that Edith Von Beaverpelt would be at home, and most likely, she would find Stasia there as well. Esme, of course, would be hard at work at Joe’s Mug, pouring coffee with a smile.
Ah, coffee. Vera’s mind wandered and her brain reminded her that she had not had any coffee so far that morning. Silly librarians and their rules! She knew that things would go better for everyone if she interviewed Esme first and scored a cup of coffee (or two) while she was doing it.
Vera made a quick stop at her desk to check for any messages before she went out to conduct her interviews. Finding none, she escaped the office before anyone could rope her into a favor or some off-topic task.
She enjoyed her brisk walk from the offices of the Herald over to the coffee shop. It was a perfect autumn day. The sky was that deep blue that one only sees in the heart of fall, and the leaves were reaching their peak of color. The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and it was easy to forget that there was evil in the world.
When she arrived at Joe’s Mug, the morning rush was over, and Esme was the only waitress on duty. In fact, the café was mostly empty except for an elderly ferret reading the paper over a cup of tea. Vera nodded at the gentleman, called a good morning to Esme, and chose a table in the far corner of the restaurant.
When Esme approached Vera’s table to take her order, Vera requested a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar, and a large black coffee. Before Esme could go back to the kitchen, Vera put out her paw and touched Esme lightly.
“Could I have a quick word with you, while you’re not too busy?” Vera asked. “It’s about a robbery at your house quite a few years ago.”
The beaver looked startled, not expecting to be asked about that. But she nodded.
“Let me put your order in and get your coffee first.” She knew Vera well. “And then I can sit down for a few minutes.”
The oatmeal arrived first, andVera was pleased to see the young beaver bustling back to her table in just a few minutes with two large mugs and a full pot of coffee. Esme was really just aces at her job, Vera thought to herself. Who would have guessed that of a highborn Von Beaverpelt?
Esme poured the coffee for Vera and herself and then took a seat opposite the fox. Vera clutched her mug and took an appreciative sip. She had only ordered the oatmeal for show.
Now that Vera had some fuel in her system, she was ready to go. She opened her notebook to a fresh page and looked at Esme carefully.
“There was a robbery at your home eleven years ago,” she began. “You would have been quite young, but do you remember anything?”
Esme thought for a moment as she sipped from her mug of coffee. “I don’t remember much about the robbery itself, but I do remember how mad Mama and Papa were. There was a silver tea service missing that had belonged to Grandmama, most of the silver from when Mama and Papa got married, and lots of Mama’s jewels. She was especially upset about the loss of an emerald necklace that Papa had given her when they got engaged.”
Vera scribbled furiously in her notebook, in between large sips of coffee. She was amazed that Esme could recall so much, and said so.
“Well,” Esme said wryly, “certain events are more memorable than others. I couldn’t tell you what most of my birthday presents were from year to year, but that robbery was another matter. I couldn’t sleep for a month afterward. Every creak in the house made Stasia and me jump.”
“Did they ever catch the robber and recover the valuables?” Vera asked, pouring a second cup of coffee for herself and Esme.
“No. Not a single thing turned up,” Esme replied. “Mama was heartbroken over the loss of that necklace. It had been engraved on the back and it really meant a lot to her. The tea set was engraved too, I think. Frankly, I missed the tea set more, since I never got to wear the necklace.”
Esme finished her coffee and stood up. “I’m afraid that’s all I remember, Vera. I should get back to work, and I’m sure that your oatmeal is getting cold.”
“Thanks so much, Esme,” the reporter said, “I appreciate your time. This helps a lot.”
Vera finished her cup of coffee and forced herself to eat all of the oatmeal. She didn’t really care for oatmeal, but knew that it was good for her, and after all, a creature couldn’t live on coffee, unfortunately. She paid her bill, leaving a generous tip for Esme, and headed out toward the Von Beaverpelt mansion. If she tried to make an appointment, she feared that Edith Von Beaverpelt would make up an excuse not to see her. Vera had annoyed Edith quite a bit during the previous investigation. So, she decided to take her chances and just ring the doorbell at the stately residence.
After Reginald Von Beaverpelt had been murdered, his widow had inherited all of his business interests. Vera knew, however, that Edith left most of the day-to-day work to Howard Chitters, her husband’s second in command. The diminutive but hardworking Howard had proven himself to be a capable manager of the sawmill, which was why Vera felt confident that she would find Edith at home on a weekday morning.
Vera was a little winded as she made her way up the extremely long and curving driveway that led to the Von Beaverpelt estate. But what a view! She looked back down and saw the town of Shady Hollow in the center of the wide valley. The streets lay in tidy lines, and the millpond sparkled bright blue in the sun, while the colorful treetops spread out across the landscape. Yes, here, a creature really could feel on top of the world.
She caught her breath as she stood on the porch and rang the doorbell. A mouse answered the door, dressed in the somewhat old-fashioned uniform of a domestic servant. One of the Chitterses’ children, perhaps.
“Yes?” the mouse asked, squeakily.
Vera stepped boldly over the threshold.
“Vera Vixen to see Mrs. Von Beaverpelt,” she said briskly, hoping that the timid mouse would think that she had an appointment. “Shall I wait in the drawing room?”
The mouse hurried after her, trying to stop her, but Vera had a head start and longer legs. She opened the door to the drawing room, whatever that was, and found Edith and her daughter Stasia both drinking coffee, still in their robes, despite the advanced hour.
“Good morning, ladies!” Vera declared, though she suspected it was technically afternoon. “How nice to find you both at home. May I take a few moments of your time? I have some questions about an old story that I’m working on.”
Not waiting for an answer from the startled beavers, Vera perched on the end of a damask sofa. The maid had quite given up by this time, and left the doorway where she had been dithering. Vera hoped that she wouldn’t get in too much trouble with her mistress for letting Vera in the house.
Edith Von Beaverpelt’s eyes were wide with dismay. “This is quite irregular, Miss Vixen!”
“Forgive me, but it really won’t take long. Do you remember the night that your home was robbed? About eleven years ago?”
“Why would you care about that?” Anastasia asked. “And how did you know? You weren’t here then.”
“Esme filled me in on what she remembered,” Vera went on, ignoring Stasia’s outburst. “But I’d like to hear from both of you.”
“How can that possibly be relevant now?” Edith asked, though in a much less belligerent tone. “Has something been found? Have the police recovered something?”
“If that were true, Deputy Braun would be here asking questions,” Stasia said shrewdly. “He wouldn’t send Miss Vixen to do an errand…anymore.” Her expression turned smug and gloating as she looked at Vera.
Vera bit her tongue and jotted a note in her little book, reminding herself to discover something truly embarrassing about Anastasia and then drop it to Gladys one day. She really was the evil twin.
“I’m here for a story for the paper,” she said, trying to remain calm. “No items from the robbery were recovered, so far as I know. But what interests me is the robber. Did any of you get a glimpse of the creature who did it? Can you remember anything at all?”
“I saw him,” Edith said in a low voice. “I haven’t thought of that night for years, but now that you bring it up, it’s like it happened yesterday.”
“What did you see, Mrs. Von Beaverpelt? Please take your time,” Vera said gently. She knew how to encourage a witness.
“It was very late one night. It was midsummer, and all the windows and vents were open. It was so hot. It had been hot all week. We were desperate for a breeze. I wasn’t sleeping well, for just that reason. At around two or three in the morning, I kept hearing a rustling. At first, I thought it was wind, or even rain on the leaves. But when I sat up in bed, I saw a shadow. Something that just didn’t fit.” Edith’s expression looked hunted. Every creature of the forest, no matter how civilized, maintained a certain instinct when it came to predator and prey. Sounds, shadows…these were signs that the back of the mind paid attention to. When things didn’t fit, instinct took over. Vera had no doubt that Edith was telling the truth.
“What was it? The shadow?”
“A creature,” Edith said, shivering. “Some lanky, thin beast. Very dark—not because of the night, you know. The fur was dark, like a brown or a black. And when it moved across a little beam of moonlight from the window, I saw its eyes. Piercing. It had the sharpest teeth, you know. I remembered that, because it was smiling at me….”
“It?” Vera asked. “Before you said he. The statement to the police said it was a he as well.”
“Oh, yes.” Edith nodded. “Such height, and strength. He was carrying a big sack of the silver and the jewels with one paw, just slung over his shoulder. He seemed as if he was about to come at me, and I screamed. Reggie was sleeping right by me, and he woke up. That made the robber dash for the window and leap out, sack and all. We never saw him again, or any of the things that were stolen.”
“Why now?” Stasia asked Vera. Her mother’s chilling account of the robber’s appearance had knocked some of the wind from her sails. “Why ask about this now?”
“The robbery occurred very close to the time that Julia Elkin disappeared,” Vera said. “I think there could be a link.”
“Oh, my!” Edith gasped. “The robber must have been lurking in the woods around town, waiting for another chance to rob a house. He must have killed Julia the night she left Shady Hollow! How horrible.”
“It’s a possibility,” Vera said. “You can understand why even the tiniest detail might help me track this creature down. You say lanky and tall. What sort of beast might it have been?” A ferret or stoat was an obvious choice. But a rat was possible—a big and thin one. Or a weasel. A mink, otter, or ermine could fit too.
“I think…a weasel,” Edith said hesitantly. “I just didn’t see enough.”
“Remember the teeth—close together, like a rat’s, or farther apart? The eyes—how big were they compared to the rest of the face? How widely set? The length of the paw—short and round, or elongated? Trust your instinct.”
“Oh.” Edith sighed. “I just can’t be sure. I keep coming back to weasel.”
“Then you’re probably right.” Vera flipped the cover back over on her notebook. “Thank you. You’ve helped.”
“You think Julia was murdered by the same individual?” Stasia asked.
“I’m not sure. All I know is that she was alive when she left her home, and her body turned up in an orchard a decade later. Something terrible happened in a very short time, and everyone in Shady Hollow deserves to know what that thing was.”