"How do we find out who did it?"
"With a little subterfuge," I said. "And a little dragon."
The boom that shook the castle was barely audible above the noise of the crowd and the musicians. I staggered out, supporting Massha. Her dress was torn and patched with black burns, and her hair was askew. Guido threaded his way ahead of us, making sure that Skeeve was nowhere in sight. We all agreed he shouldn't be bothered. I was pretty certain we could handle this by ourselves. He spotted Don Brace and his two associates, boozing it up at one of the tables near the harpist. Don Brace set down his goblet and kissed his fingers at the musician.
"Beautiful .'That boy plays beautifully." Then he turned, and spotted us. "Aahz! Massha! What has happened to you?"
"The house," Massha said, playing her part. She let go of me and threw her meaty arms around the Fairy Godfather. "My husband. Oh, I can't say."
"What happened?" the don demanded.
Massha sobbed into a handkerchief. "We only just got married!"
"Are you saying that my present killed your husband?" Don Bruce demanded, drawing himself up four feet into the air.
"If the Prada pump fits," I growled, "wear it. The news will be all over the Bazaar in an hour: Don Brace ices associates at a wedding!"
But I wasn't watching Don Brace. I had my eye on his two associates. Surleone's heavy brows drew down over his stubby nose, but he looked concerned. Don deDondon couldn't keep the glee off his weaselly face.
"I'm good with casualties," he said, starting to rise from the bench. "I'd better go and see if I can help." Suddenly, a blue, scaly face was nose to nose with his. Gleep hissed. "Help?"
The dragon bared his teeth and flicked his tail from side to side. It was all the proof I needed that Don deDondon had had his hands on the parchment I'd had Gleep sniff, but I thrust it in front of his skinny nose.