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Was it the perfect plan? No. Was it good enough to convince enough people that the Guilderians had committed an act of war? Humperdinck thought so. Tensions were so high between Florian and Guilder that it would take only the tiniest spark to set everything in motion.
Well, at least that was what he had thought the first time. He had thought he planned the perfect scapegoat murder, and he had planned the perfect scapegoat murder. Even with his superior intellect, he never could have predicted that Buttercup’s loverboy would appear out of nowhere to foil his best laid plans. It still filled him with burning rage to remember how he had been outwitted by a mere peasant farm boy. He yearned for revenge every day, but Buttercup and her stable boy were long gone. Not a soul in the kingdom knew where they had gone.
Things would be different this time.
Luckily word of his first attempt to incite a war hadn’t gotten around. It gave him the opportunity to try again. His new plan wasn’t much different from his first one. In fact, it was precisely the same. There was no point in improving on perfection. His mistake last time had not been in the plan itself, but in his failure to recognize all the pieces on the board. This time, he made sure the only pieces in play were ones he was aware of.
He had found the perfect girl to play her part: the young, fair Daffodil. He supposed he had an affinity for girls named after flowers, even when they were only pawns to be sacrificed. She was from a small family who kept to themselves, and with no long-lost lover to speak of, supposedly dead or otherwise. It would be a good, clean kill, no suffering. He wasn’t a total monster. It wasn’t her fault she was the perfect, expendable candidate to help spark a war between nations. There was no one who would come to her rescue mid plot, and they would be at war with the Guilderians within the week.
Everything was in place. This time, there was no one who could stop him.
Last time, he had been far too sure of himself. He had let himself get cocky. This time, he just hoped it would work.
It worked.
The bandits he hired executed their task without any conscience. Hiring rogues with a heart had been part of his miscalculation last time. This time, he made sure they were ruthless at their job, though they were actually quite nice fellows in their personal lives.
They agreed to leave ample clues for him to track, none he knew about beforehand, of course. That would have spoiled the chase.
And what a chase it was. Humperdinck followed their trail all over Florin and straight into Guilder. They took a much more direct route than the Sicilian and his band of fools. Straight through the Florin Channel and through the great Oak Forest. The Prince and his procession found Daffodil right at the outskirts of Guilder. He would have preferred they found her within the borders proper, but this was close enough for there to be no doubt it was the work of Guilderian forces.
Fortunately they found the girl dead this time, but the prince pretended it was the most unfortunate tragedy to befall their kingdom. He gave a grave speech to his procession, lamenting the loss of his fiancé and vowing revenge on the Guilderian scum that had done this to his dear Daffodil.
When he felt his people were properly roused against Guilder, Humperdinck ordered his men to wrap her up and load her into the cart, and they made the long trip back to Florin. It was a pretty somber trip back, but the prince was mighty pleased with himself.
Back at the castle, they placed Daffodil’s covered body in an inner courtyard, so that the many courtiers, nobles and soldiers at court could pay their respects and see what had befallen her. She was placed on a raised platform, her body covered with a sheet, except for her face, pallid with death.
A large crowd gathered at the courtyard, everyone who lived and worked at the castle came to see her. His King father and Queen mother stood beside him looking somber with bowed heads.
“A pity, such a pity,” the king muttered. He bounced back and forth between deeply saddened and looking quite content, but whenever he caught a look at Daffodil, he would bow his head again. “A pity, such a pity.”
Doubtless they would all be chomping at the bit for war after seeing what Guilder had done to sweet Daffodil. There would be no miracle man to ruin his plans this time.
“Excuse me, pardon me.”
There was a shuffling commotion near the entrance as the crowd tried to make sense of the sudden loud, nasally voice that rang around the courtyard. The crowd of courtiers, nobles, and soldiers parted to reveal a short, disheveled man wearing an official looking tunic and a rumpled raincoat (this was after raincoats were invented but before pressed suits, although even if this had been after pressed suits, this particular man’s suit would have still been wrinkled). In one of his hands he held a smoking cigar, which definitely hadn’t been invented yet, and yet it existed by the man’s sheer force of will.
“Who the devil are you?” Humperdinck demanded.
“I’m awfully sorry for the interruption, but I was wondering if anyone could point me to the courtyard where we can pay our respects to the princess?” The crowd stared at him in stunned, silent disbelief. He seemed unfazed as he gazed around at them. “Anybody?” he asked, holding his hands out.
Humperdinck stepped aside to reveal the platform where poor Daffidil lay covered. “You’re standing in it. Now, who. The devil. Are you?”
“Oh! Oh, your highness, I’m terribly sorry, sir. I didn’t realize…just a second.” He began to rummage through the pockets of his raincoat, chuckling softly to himself. “To think the prince of the whole kingdom was standing right in front of me and I didn’t even recognize him. Do you know how many times I must have seen your portrait? I can’t believe myself.”
The strange man finally found what he was looking for in a pocket Humperdinck was certain he had checked three times already. It was a flat, metal card that showed the crest of the next town over and a barely recognizable carving of his face. “My name is Constable Columbo. I was called here to investigate the murder of Princess Daffodil."
“Constable?” A slight panic formed in the pit of the prince’s stomach. He didn’t need a constable poking his nose into the details of Daffodil’s death. “I didn’t call for a constable.”
“I did,” the King said.
Humperdink whirled to face his father. “You did?” he asked with what he hoped was contained rage. If it was anyone other than his haggardly, addle-brained father, he would have throttled him on the spot.
“I called for him as soon as we got word of her murder. I thought it would be best to call a constable, don’t you think?”
Humperdinck realized that the whole court was looking to him for his decision. Perhaps it would seem suspicious if he outright threw the constable out, which he wanted to do with every fiber of his being.
“Yes, I suppose it would be wise to accept his help.”
Columbo reached out to shake Humperdinck’s hand. “I do appreciate this opportunity, your highness. It’s a great honor to work for the royal family, but I do wish the circumstances were less tragic.”
“Indeed,” Humperdinck said as icily as he could muster.
Columbo continued to be unfazed. “I was hoping we could talk, maybe establish a timeline of events.”
“I was in the middle of paying my respects to the princess when you so…discretely made your way in.”
“Say no more, prince,” Columbo said, holding his hand up. “I’ll see myself out. We’ll be in contact soon.”
With that, Columbo raised his cigar in a gesture of farewell and walked out past the bewildered crowd.
Humperdinck pretended to go back to paying his respects to dear Daffodil, but his mind was racing with thoughts of that blasted constable.
Why did there always have to be unexpected pieces on the board? Couldn’t he start a war with Guilder in peace without people showing up out of the woodworks to foil him?
At least he felt some consolation in knowing that Columbo was clearly an idiot. He would never figure out what had truly happened. At best, this Columbo would be an annoyance. Everything would go according to his plan.
When Humperdinck was finished paying his respects, he half expected Columbo to be outside the courtyard waiting for him, but was relieved to see he was nowhere to be found.
When he returned to his study, he found Columbo sitting in his chair, reading the book he had left open on his desk. He looked up when Humperdinck entered.
“Afternoon, your highness. I figured you wouldn’t mind if I waited for you in here.”
Humperdinck tried very hard to quell his shock and rage. “And exactly how on earth did you get in here?”
“I asked the captain of the guard if there was anywhere I could wait for you, and he escorted me here. Yellin, was it? Nice fellow.”
“I see.” He would have to give Yellin a serious talking to later.
“He seems real broken up about the princess’s passing. To tell you the truth, I’m broken up about it too. To have the princess be kidnapped again so soon after the last one. And after Princess Buttercup disappeared? It’s tragic. Tragic stuff.”
A very, very serious talking to.
“Columbo, my chair…”
“Oh, pardon my manners, sir,” Columbo said, quickly rising out of the chair. “I forget where I am sometimes. I’ll just pull up a chair.”
Humperdinck seriously considered throwing Columbo out as he pulled one of the reading chairs to the front of the desk, but he decided it was best to play along. No one would be able to say he hadn’t exhausted every resource to find out what had happened to the princess. Working with Columbo would only make him look better, even if Columbo was a fool.
“Boy, this is some library you got here,” Columbo said. “Have you read all of these?”
There were shelves and shelves of books in the prince’s library, many of which he had read, but most of which were just for show.
“Most of them,” Humperdinck said. “Some of them are my father’s.”
“At home, all I have is a little shelf next to my bed. Nothing like this.”
Frankly, the prince was surprised Columbo could even read. “Columbo, what was it you wanted to speak with me about?”
“First off, your highness, I want to apologize. I can tell I’ve offended you, showing up out of the blue like this, but when your father’s people contacted me and told me what happened to the princess, I came straight down. I hope you can forgive me.”
“I can assure you I’m not offended, but I might be if you don’t get to the point of why you’re here.”
“Understood, Prince. Like I said earlier, I think it’s best if we start by establishing a timeline of events. When did you first discover Princess Daffodil had been kidnapped?”
“Yesterday morning. Captain Yellin informed me she wasn’t in her quarters, and she hadn’t returned from her morning walk. We found her ribbons in the tree outside her bedroom, and that was when we knew something awful had happened to her. She never goes anywhere without her precious ribbons.”
“Yeah, Yellin told me about that. So you’re a great tracker?”
“Of course. I’m a hunter, Columbo.” It was known throughout the kingdom that the prince was an expert hunter. Did he really not know? “I can track anyone and anything. I followed the princess’ trail all the way to Guiider. Everything points to them, the scum.”
“Hold on there, your highness, I think we would be jumping to conclusions if we pinned this on Guilder right away.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t you think it’s a little odd that Guilder would kidnap the princess and lead you straight to her?”
“It does appear they wanted her to be found,” Humperdinck admitted, growing apprehensive of Columbo’s line of thinking. “Perhaps they wanted to start a war.”
“That’s the thing, why would Guilder want to start a war with us? Florin clearly has the superior military. Guilder would lose for sure. No, I don’t think it was them who kidnapped the princess.”
“Then who was it, pray tell?”
Columbo leaned forward as he said, “I think the kidnappers came from within Florin. I think they only want us to think it was Guilder.”
It took all of Humperdinck’s effort to keep the shock from his face. “From…within Florin?”
“Yes, your highness. I know it’s hard to believe, but I think there’s someone in Florin who very badly wants a war with Guilder.”
Humperdinck paused for a long moment. “Do you know what you’re implying, constable?”
“I know, prince,” Columbo said, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to believe it either, but I think it would be very dangerous to assume Guilder did this, at least not until we have more evidence.”
“And how do you intend to find this evidence?”
“I’ll ask around, see what I can find.” Columbo stood up from the chair. “I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome. I don’t want to take up any more of your time, your highness. You’ve been a big help.”
The price didn’t say a thing as Columbo made to leave.
“You have nothing to worry about, your highness. Whoever murdered your wife—”
“Fiancé.”
“Fiancé? Are you sure?”
“Am I sure? Of course I’m sure. What sort of man doesn’t know whether he’s engaged or married?”
“Huh. I could have sworn…”
Columbo rummaged through his pockets until he found a small, battered notebook.
“Ah, here it is. ‘Daffodil, age 19, fiancé of the Prince.’ I got all of this information from Yellin. I could have sworn he said you were married.”
“You were saying, Columbo?” Humperdinck said, growing increasingly irritated by the second.
“Right, I’ll get to the bottom of this. Whoever murdered your fiancé, I’ll find them. I’ll keep you updated on anything I find.”
Columbo raised his cigar in farewell and left, leaving the prince alone. The prince sat gravely at his desk for a good long while. He had thought he crafted a foolproof plan, but clearly he was mistaken.
This Columbo would be a problem.