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Finally, gravity took over. Crust and cinnamon-infused apple smeared the noble chest on the way to the floor.
The prince had tried to jump backward, as though he thought he could outrun the pie on its flight path towardhim.Vancounteditasonemorewaytheman wasshowingaratherremarkabledegreeofstupidity.
Perhaps he hadn’t realized Lancelot was standing right behind him, perfectly placed to catch His Purloining Princeship at the knees and send him on a trajectory into the pool.
Lancelot, however, didn’t have the stature to send him on a really good trajectory.
Guinevere did, on the other hand. She had crouched behind her beloved mate. She stood up at the perfect time for her ponderous bulk to catch and lift the airborne prince into a backward somersault and spectacular belly flop into the pool.
Lancelot and Guinevere exchanged downright smug glances of congratulations to each other for their teamwork.
The man landed with a magnificent splash. Van didn’t mind wiping water off his face and brushing at his jacket. It was worth it to see such justice done right here, right now, instead of waiting months for the courts.
Mrs. Kazinski, face also dripping a little water, like everyone else’s within yards of the pool, applauded with quite unladylike enthusiasm. Van smiled his approval, half bowed and handed Mrs. Kazinski his backup handkerchief. She accepted it graciously, dried her face and patted him on the cheek with it. “The dastardly fellow is coming up for air,” Mr. Kazinski said. He tottered closer to the pool, but his wife stopped him. “Now, Inge, let me go. My cane applied forcefully to his head will make sure he stays down there in the pool where he belongs, preferably below water.”
Mrs. Kazinski muttered a word Van would have sworn she didn’t know, much less use. “Your cane applied forcefully to his head will make sure you fall over and fall in to join him.”
“Tall?” asked Mr. Kazinski as his hearing had betrayed him again. “I don’t think he’s too tall for me to take care of.”
“Help,” the prince gurgled. “Help me. I can’t swim.”
Mary’s Uncle Brock strode toward the edge of the pool and took a stance that was commanding, from head to somewhat portly belly to toe. He stared balefully down at Prince Tomas. Van watched in anticipation. Afraid of missing one bit of the action, the Kazinskis edged closer.
“Let’s see what you have in your pockets first.” Brock raised the sparkling necklace in his hand to dangle in the light. “I saw your pockets bulging when you tried to sneak out of here and look what popped out when I grabbed you.”
Brock shook the necklace in his fist, but lowered his voice into fake reasonable calm. “I think you have more in your pockets. I think they’re weighing you down. I think it would be dangerous for anyone to rescue you while you have things weighing you down.”
“No!” the prince shrieked as his flailing kept his mouth barely above water. “You have to help me!”Brockshookhishead.Theprincewentdown.Finally, he struggled back to the surface, coughing and spitting.
“I’ll do it,” he shouted. “Here they are!” He heaved a necklace, three bracelets, and a brooch toward the pool deck. He missed with one, but it fell into the gutter on the side of the pool.
Van muttered under his breath and walked over to join Brock in staring down at the panicking prince.
“He has confessed his crime and given up his ill-gotten gains,” Van said.
“So?”
“I guess we should throw in a life ring.”
“I suppose,” Brock said as though the words were being dragged out of him by wild hyenas.
“I guess we can’t throw in a life ring unless one of us walks over there to get it.”
“I suppose.”
“I don’t want to do it either, you know,” Van said. “What if we ask Mr. Kazinski to get the life ring?”
Brock brightened. “The jerk might drown in the meantime.”
“Do you think ‘might’ is good enough? While Mr. Kazinski is taking half a lifetime to get the life ring, I could get that pole hanging on the wall. We could use it to push the prince here under the water again if it looked as though he needed help to sink.”
Brock smiled beatifically.
Van wanted to do the honors with the pole himself, but decided after a little reflection that Brock’s performance tonight must mean he’d come to his senses about Aunt Cynthia. If so, the kitchen genius deserved the pole.
Van decided to take it on faith and handed the pole over.
Brock did a splendid job too. With the first new near-drowning, the Prince of No Principles disgorged another brooch from the back of his cummerbund. On the second, a tiara came out of a clever secret pocket inside his jacket. This thief had come well prepared.
