Drowning Pool (Miss Henry Mysteries) Read Online Free Page B

itself.
    The artists around her seemed to have been struck dumb, perhaps overwhelmed b y the art from another era. Or perhaps they also sensed the building’s hostile nature. More likely they were trying hard to think up something admiring to say in case their opinions were asked. Juliet had already decided on “not my field” as her answer should anyone seek her opinion of the architecture.
    If Juliet ha d ever been rapturous of castles, she had gotten over it after working in one where she found a body bricked up in the fireplace. All other considerations aside, they were uncomfortable and inconvenient for modern living. She appreciated the engineering in a clinical way since it could not have been easy to glue all those disparate styles together, but was not at all inclined to fantasize romantically about Rupert of Hentzau or the Count of Monte Cristo. Especially not there where Rupert and Montezuma would have been alike offended and bewildered by the structure.
    “Home , sweet home. I wonder where they keep the monster,” Juliet muttered and got a quick smile of understanding from Raphael, who was a bit of an artistic purist and did not like mixing cultural messages in his art. The castle had to offend him too on an aesthetic level though he would never let anyone see it. He had an excellent game face.
    Footmen dressed a bit like bellboys in a Hollywood film swarmed out to deal with the luggage. They were all locals from the look of them, which should not have surprised her but somehow it did. Perhaps she was thinking of matters too historically. Relations had been rather sticky back in the day when East had met West, with the descendants of Alexander the Great and Caesar Augustus doing their level best to exterminate the children of Montezuma and steal their gold.
    But that was long ago and these impoverished lands were probably glad to get some of that stolen gold back in the form of wages.
    The thick wooden doors which might have come off a cathedral were standing wide so that they could enter the great hall, which was as architecturally confusing as the exterior.
    They were greeted by Henrik von Hayek , who welcomed them with formal words and explained that his father was resting but would be joining them at dinner. Their host looked like he had entered the final stages of consumption, and in spite of his pleasant voice his cold eyes did not seem to regard his guests with favor. Juliet did not think that he had contracted anything fatal though, unless wealth could be considered a chronic problem. He was just very lean and his yellowed fingers suggested an addiction to nicotine.
    No mention was made of Mrs. Hayek or any little von Hayeks, and they were quickly handed off to a housekeeper in traditional black who was not identified by name, being a servant and therefore a nonhuman. Their luggage was once again lifted by uniformed footmen who loaded it into an elevator concealed behind a tapestry mounted on a swinging arm. Henrik most graciously suggested that he and Raphael should also travel up in the elevator, and since Raphael did not care to be carried in his chair if there was any other option, he agreed equally graciously. Von Hayek shook hands with Raphael and he showed none of the usual emotions by those confronted with a wheelchair. That might have been because his immobile face could not express repulsion, curiosity, or pity. Juliet found she liked him just a little for managing the moment graciously. But then Raphael, with his slightly haggard beauty, still had the gift of charisma and when he chose to use it, he could be as riveting as Rasputin or Elvis. Juliet admired the public Raphael and understood the construct and why it was needed, but she greatly preferred to spend time with the private person who was her neighbor in Bartholomew’s Wood.
    The rest of them mounted the massive stair so that they could be browbeaten by the display of wealth and power that at first glance was witheringly