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Lancelot’s attitude confirmed it. He was holding the prince at bay, not Brock.
Life since Van had met Mary sure had become interesting.
Brock’s weapon wasn’t a cream pie, Van noted. It wouldn’t be. Cliché food of any kind, even if it was ammunition, was not Brock’s style.
Van sniffed. The pie was apple, if he was any judge of the wafting aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg and a secret ingredient Brock had never revealed even to Mary. Van’s mouth watered. He wouldn’t mind mashing a pie into the prince’s face himself, even though he had invited the man here.
“I presume you’ve figured out who really is the thief,” a voice at Van’s elbow said.
He half-turned to see Mrs. Kazinski. He got ready to duck.
“I’m glad to see you here,” she said. “Not that we really need you, you understand. But it can’t hurt to have a strong young man like you standing by while we take care of this varmint who has been trying to bring his nasty tricks and wicked crimes into your neighborhood.”
Van’sfirstimpulseafterduckinghadbeentothrow up his arm to shield his face from any lethal purse Mrs. Kazinski might launch his way. Even though he was fairly sure he didn’t look guilty of anything this time.
“Ma’am,” he said to Mrs. Kazinski.
Mr. Kazinski hobbled over to join them. “Sir,” Van added. He wanted to grab the elderly gentleman to help keep him upright, but he probably wouldn’t like it, and the Kazinskis might be Van’s best bet for finding out exactly what was going on around here.
“Mrs. Kazinski, do I understand you correctly that Prince Whoopdeedoozit is — er — a dastardly varmint? I’ve ended up not too fond of him myself, but — ”
“We know why he’s here,” Mr. Kazinski trumpeted at a volume loud enough to hear himself speak. That made it three times as loud as anyone else would need to know what he was saying. “Mrs. Smythe has a fool for a nephew, that’s why. To suggest a fine woman of her stature could possibly be interested in — ”
“I think what my husband is trying to say is it’s unfortunateyouthoughtyourauntmightwanttomarry this varmint,” Mrs. Kazinski said much more quietly. “I’m afraid he has proved to be quite unworthy of any affection she might have bestowed on him.”
“How did you know — No, never mind right now. Tell me about this — er — varmint. He is a thief, I take it.”
“Oh,yes,”Mrs.Kazinskisaid.“ThatnecklaceBrock is holding dropped out of the prince’s pocket when Brock first grabbed him. That pie,” she added with satisfaction, “is our doing.”
Van looked back at the pie, still perfectly balanced on Brock’s hand as he circled the prince with a grace worthy of Saturday Night at Wrestling or Boxing or Whatever. “Your doing?”
“Oh, I don’t mean I baked it,” Mrs. Kazinski said. “I makeamudpiethat’stodiefor,butlookatthatwork of art in Brock’s hand. It’s beyond my capabilities. We just smuggled it in for him.”
“Smuggled it in?”
“Well, you don’t think Cynthia — I should say Cyn. She has asked us to call her that, and I think it suits her new aura perfectly, don’t you? Or at least it did beforeBrockdidthemostidioticthinghe’severdone in his entire life. Why, to think he’d walk out — ”
“I don’t think — I mean, you don’t think — ” Van stuttered.
“There, there, young man.” Mrs. Kazinski patted Van on the arm. “I’m getting used to how confused you can get. Don’t give it a thought. I’ll catch you up slowly on what we’ve been trying to tell you when we need your input. Meanwhile, it would help if you didn’t keep interrupting me.”
Van doggedly tried again. “You were saying you didn’t think Cynthia, or Cyn — ”
“As I was saying,” Mrs. Kazinski interrupted emphatically,“Cynwouldn’thaveletBrockwaltzinhere carrying an apple pie when her new boyfriend would be here. I’m sure she wouldn’t have let him get anywhere near her unless he was groveling on his knees.”
“Well, uhh — ”
“I packed it in my purse.”
Van eyed the one she was carrying and decided, yes, it was big enough to carry the apple pie. He shuddered at the thought of how many rocks the purse could hold as well, and what kind of damage it could do to the next varmint she ran across. On the other hand, as long as she was after the prince —
“We helped Brock get in too,” Mrs. Kazinski said with a triumphant smile. “When Brock got here, my Seymour pretended to lose his balance. It created quiteasatisfactorydiversionattheopportunetime.”
And speaking of diversions …
Brock at last found the perfect opening. His apple pie scored a bull’s eye on the prince’s face.
Van flicked at a speck of pie crust that landed on him during the impact. He smiled as the pie bent,crumpledandconformedtothecontoursofthe prince’s face.
