Chapter 18 Sinclair
Before we hopped on the Segways, I sent my dad a quick text to check in and tell him about the tickets. Then Jayne and I were off to the archives.
We passed some staff in the halls, but as soon as we were in an empty one, Jayne slowed and came alongside me.
“We can’t talk about you-know-who in front of Crispin.”
“Okay, right. We should probably have a code name for her. Instead of using her name at all.”
“Good point. What should we call her?”
“Something that only we’ll understand, obviously.”
Jayne nodded. “How about … Snowflake?”
I laughed. “Yeah, I like that. Snowflake it is.”
We parked our Segways in the hall, and I checked my phone. My dad had responded saying they’d love the tickets and it sounded like a fun evening. Also that JJ was sleeping, Spider and Sugar had been played with, and we were nearly out of treats.
I showed the screen to Jayne. “Are we really nearly out of treats? That’s not going to go over well with the cats.”
She grimaced. “I’ve been a little busy having a baby. I don’t remember the last time we bought treats, and the North Pole doesn’t have that brand, so they’ll have to be ordered. I bet there’s some in the RV, though. Up in that one cabinet.”
“I know where you mean. After we get back, I’ll go have a look.” The RV was currently at the transportation department, where it was getting a refit with the idea that when we did eventually get back on the road, something Jayne insisted would happen, we’d need a place for JJ to sleep.
How they worked that out, I was interested to see. I couldn’t really picture it, but thankfully, that wasn’t my job.
I put my phone away, got my crutches situated, and we went into the archives. It was as dimly lit as the last time. Why were the lights never all on? I guessed it had to do with preserving the books. Unlike that previous visit, there was someone at the desk. Crispin Vale.
He looked up from a sheaf of paperwork. “Your highnesses.” He got to his feet. “Hello.”
“Hello,” Jayne said. “I guess that means you remember us?”
He laughed. “You’re Princess Jayne and Prince Consort Sinclair. How could I not remember you?”
“Well, just checking. How are you doing?”
He arched one brow, high enough that it extended over the rim of his glasses. “You mean how am I doing now that my mentor has been murdered? How am I doing now that I’ve left school to work here full-time? How do you think I’m doing?”
She shot me a look.
It appeared Crispin had picked up crankiness from his mentor, if nothing else.
He sighed, a big, deep, full-body sigh, then shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m not doing so great, as you have probably figured out. I thought he’d be here for years to come. He had so much more to teach me and now …”
He swallowed and sniffed, digging into the pocket of his tweed trousers for a handkerchief. He wiped at his nose.
“It’s all right,” Jayne said. “It’s a terribly upsetting thing to lose someone so close to you. Someone you obviously looked up to.”
Crispin nodded. “It is. I’m running this place now. Can you believe that? I haven’t even been here a year. He left enormous shoes to fill. I have so much to do. So much to live up to.”
I got it, but at the same time, this was the archives. It wasn’t exactly a hotbed of activity. He was looking after records. How hard could it be?
“I understand,” Jayne said. “If you’d like, I could talk to my father about getting you some help.”
“No.” Crispin cleared his throat. “That is, no, thank you. Delton believed in me. He knew I could do this job, and I’m not about to let him down. I don’t need help. I just need some time.”
“Of course,” Jayne said. “But you should at least have a new apprentice. Someone to fill the position you used to hold.”
His eyes widened. “Why? Do you think I could be in danger? Do you think someone will come after me?”
“No, not at all,” Jayne said. “Just thinking it would lighten your load but never mind.” She changed gears. “Would it be all right if we asked you some questions?”
“About the archives?”
“Yes, and about the people who’ve come here.”
He seemed puzzled. “What about them?”
“Well,” I said, interjecting. “Has anyone been in to visit Delton more frequently than usual?”
Crispin thought a moment. “That’s hard for me to say. I’m only here in the afternoon. If someone came to see him during the morning, I’d have no way of knowing.”
“What if they requested something?” Jayne asked. “Wouldn’t there be some kind of work order or something?”
“Hmm.” Crispin nodded. “That’s true. There would be. Good thought. Let me go check in the office and see what’s on his book.” He slid off the chair. “I’ll just go grab it and bring it back. Won’t be too long.”
“Thank you,” Jayne said.
As he left, I leaned in toward her. “My guess is he’s suffering from a bit of imposter syndrome. He wasn’t meant to take over this place for quite a while yet, and now here he is, in charge of the whole thing. It’s got to be daunting. Not to mention, he seems to have been close to Delton.”
“I know. It’s sad.” She shook her head. “He’s obviously grieving, but who else could run this place? I don’t think it would be such a big deal to close for a few days, though. He ought to have some time off.”
“I agree. Who’s in charge of that?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure Ezreal would know.”
Crispin was on his way back, a tattered book in one hand, the yellowed pages visible as he waved it at us. “I’ve got his logbook.” He set it down on the desk. “I suppose it’s my logbook now.”
With a sigh, he opened it and paged to the beginning of the week. He flipped through, carefully running his finger down the names. “Looks like lots of teachers, a few reporters from the paper, and someone named Flora Merriweather.”
“She’s the royal event planner,” Jayne said. “She’s planning the Naming Day ceremony.”
“I’ve never met her,” Crispin said. “She must come in the morning.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know the other names are teachers and reporters then? Did they all come in the afternoon?”
“No.” Crispin stared at me. “You’re right. I don’t know that’s what they are, but Delton said a lot of teachers and reporters were coming in, so I just assumed. But based on the documents they’ve asked for, I’m guessing that’s who they are.”
But that just raised another question. “And you think for some reason Flora Merriweather isn’t a teacher or reporter?”
He went back to the book and pointed to her name. “See that star by her name? Delton only used that for someone of great importance. No one else has it. So I figured she must not be like the rest. Makes sense she got a star because she works for the crown.”
“I see.” Good to know Delton had some kind of system. Might prove useful.
Next, Crispin tapped the notation next to her name. “She’s asked for the recorded histories of past naming days, so she must be researching how they were handled. She wants to be sure the big day is done right.”
“What about the teachers and reporters?” I asked. “What were they looking for?”
“Same thing, really,” Crispin answered. “They’re all after the history of Naming Days, the meanings of things done in the ceremony, all the details that make for a good story. Or in the case of the teachers, an interesting class lesson.”
“So have all the archives about Naming Day been lent out?”
Crispin looked up. “I’d have to check them against this list, see what’s waiting to be delivered, see if any of them have been returned … it’s really not something I can answer without some research of my own.”
“Would you do that for us?” Jayne asked. “And can we get a list of all those people who’ve been in researching Naming Day?”
He sighed, a bit like someone who really did not want another task on his to-do list.
Leaning on the desk, I whipped out my phone. “I have a better idea. I’ll just take a picture of these pages, then we’ll have the names.”
Crispin seemed startled by that. “I don’t know if that’s allowed.”
Jayne put her hand on his arm and gave him a kilowatt smile. “As the Winter Princess, I will take full responsibility if it isn’t, but as it would be a tremendous help to us while also saving you additional work, I’m sure it would be fine.”
He stared at her, although the glare on his glasses made his eyes hard to see. “All right.”
“Thank you,” she said, still smiling. “Were you studying archiving at school?”
While she engaged him, I went through the book and snapped pictures of all the pages from the last week. I did my best to be thorough, taking extra pictures, zooming in to be sure the names were clear, whatever I thought would get the best results.
When I was done, I slid the book back toward him and gave Jayne a nod. She was in the middle of promising him some of her Aunt Martha’s eggnog fudge.
“I’ll get some sent to you, Crispin. I’ll have it delivered here. You’ll love it.”
“Thank you.” He glanced at me.
“I’m all done. Thanks.”
Jayne, still smiling, squeezed his arm. “You’ve been so helpful. If you think of anything else, let us know.”
“I, uh, okay, I will.” He closed the logbook and hugged it to his chest. “I could check to see if any of those Naming Day resources are still here. If you want.”
“That would be great,” Jayne said. “Send us a message if they are. We really have to get going now.”
“I could check for the first one at least,” Crispin offered.
I knew she wanted to get back to JJ. “It’s all right. Just let us know. I need to get to transportation. We left something in our RV.”
“Oh. Okay.” Crispin looked … I wasn’t sure. Relieved? Disappointed? He was an odd one.
We left, getting back on our Segways without saying a word to each other until we were in a different hallway.
“That guy really needs some time off.”
Jayne nodded. “I’m going to talk to Ezreal about that when I call him to ask for the citizen registry. That will help us research the names from that logbook. Anyway, if he can’t get Crispin a few days off, he’ll at least know someone who can.”