Free Murder Goes Mumming by Charlotte MacLeod Page B

trimmings?”
    “Yes, no problem. They were all stacked just where we left them last year. I’ve left them stacked at the foot of the attic stairs. You know this stupid arm of mine when it comes to carrying things. Maybe Franny and Winny can bring them down. Hello, Janet, Madoc. I think I’ll have another cup of coffee and perhaps just a bite of that finnan haddie if you promise not to tell Donald I sneaked a second breakfast. It’s freezing in that attic.”
    Babs fixed herself a plate and sat down next to Squire. “Getting back to your question, Herbert, I can’t say that I ever have known Aunt Addie to miss the mark. You’re around her a lot more than I am, of course, so I shouldn’t presume to contradict you in any case.”
    “Tell that to Her Highness, will you? See, May, Babs appreciates me even if you don’t.”
    “I want to hear more about your aunt,” Janet insisted. “Can she do it all the time, or just now and then?”
    “That depends,” said Herbert. “The weather’s her big thing. She feels that in her bones, she says. Remarkably sensitive bones Auntie has. Sometimes she’ll tell you right to the minute, almost, when a storm’s coming and when it’s going to stop. But if she doesn’t get a feel for it, she won’t predict. The fire ship she hears, though don’t ask me how. Of course the ship doesn’t come along very often, so you couldn’t count that as one of her major effects, but it’s a whizzer when she brings it off. Weren’t you scared stiff last night, Janet?”
    “No, why should I have been?” Janet spread the last bit of her marmalade thriftily on her last corner of toast. Trust Janet to make things come out right.
    “I was thrilled to pieces, naturally, because I’d never seen a fire ship and always wanted to. The ship was an eerie thing to watch, but I didn’t think it was going to sail in through the window and get me or anything. My sister-in-law’s mother came from Restigouche County and she said the Phantom Ship usually meant a storm coming. I knew we were in for one anyway because I could smell snow in the air last night when we got out of the helicopter. So I just thought that was why it showed up.”
    For some reason, all the Condryckes present thought that was a scream. “What have we got here?” cried Herbert. “A second Aunt Addie?”
    Janet shrugged. “What’s so remarkable about being able to smell snow in the air? I thought everybody could.”
    “All right, then, tell us when it’s going to stop. Within the hour, mind you.”
    “Four o’clock. But I’m not saying morning or afternoon, or which day.” Janet laid down her napkin. “I’ll be glad to carry down some of those Christmas trimmings if you’ll tell me where to find them, Babs. Squire said I might help to decorate the tree.”
    “Janet, how sweet of you. Just let me finish this coffee and I’ll show you. This house is a jigsaw puzzle to find your way around in.”
    “It’s fascinating. Do you ever give guided tours?”
    “You’ll get one tonight. We go trooping all through the place scaring the bogles away. That reminds me, we must see about costumes for you two. There’s sure to be something in the attic.”
    “Why don’t we tie a couple of eggbeaters to their legs and let them go as a twin-screw motor?” Herbert suggested suggestively. “Any more tea in the pot, May?”
    “Give me some while you’re slopping the hogs,” said Cyril, joining the breakfast party without ceremony. “Where’s Don? Off plotting the murder of the reigning heir, namely me? One step nearer the throne, eh, Squire?”
    “Here, have a kidney to stop your mouth.”
    May slammed a plate down in front of her brother without, for once, trying to make a joke about it. “Donald’s helping Baptiste set up the Christmas tree in the Great Hall.”
    “Energetic of him.” Cyril eyed the kidney and took a piece of toast instead. “I hope they get it straight for once.”
    “How would you know? You’re