Title: Who Is Killing the Brandybucks?
Author: Kathryn Ramage 
Email: kramage@erols.com
Code: Frodo/Merry, Frodo/Sam, Merry/Pippin
Rated: PG13

Summary: After another of Frodo's Brandybuck cousins is killed, Frodo believes 
that someone bears a grudge against the family and must find out who it is 
before any more Brandybucks die. The case also brings about a reunion between 
Merry and Pippin as well as Frodo and Sam.

Notes: This story makes frequent reference to events in the very first 
Frodo Investigates! mystery, "Death on the Brandywine," in which Frodo 
investigated the murder of his cousin, Berilac Brandybuck. If you haven't read 
it, or would like to refresh your memory of what happened then, you can find 
this story on the Library of Moria at 
http://www.libraryofmoria.com/frodoinvestigates/deathonthebrandywine.txt

Notes: This story takes place in the spring of 1423 (S.R.).

Like my previous mysteries, this story takes elements from the book, but also 
uses two key points from the film version of LOTR: the Shire is untouched, and 
the four main hobbits are all around the same age.

Many of the names used in this story are taken from the Brandybuck family tree 
in Appendix C, but the characterizations are my own.

Disclaimer: The characters and overall storyline are certainly not mine. They 
belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate, and I'm just playing with them to entertain 
myself and anyone else who likes this kind of thing.

December 2006

!~|i|~!

Since returning home last autumn following his father's death, Merry Brandybuck 
had assumed his place as Master of Brandy Hall and was adjusting to the 
increased responsibilities that came with it. It wasn't an easy transition for 
the formerly carefree young hobbit, but he left much of the business of managing 
Buckland to his Uncle Merimac, as his father had done, and when his burdens were 
too much for him, he slipped away to visit Frodo, who was living in the cottage 
at Crickhollow. 

Frodo had been living in Buckland since their return from Gondor to be near 
Merry during this difficult time, and to finish his book in peace. The 
Brandybucks would have been happy to welcome him at Brandy Hall, but like other 
members of the family, Frodo preferred the quiet of the cottages on the property 
to the crowd and noise of the enormous smial. Crickhollow was at the farthest 
end of the lane, about a mile from the Hall.

When Merry came to visit that spring day, Milliflora, the maidservant who looked 
after Frodo, answered the door and informed him, "Mr. Frodo's at his writing, 
Master Merry," then pointed to the smaller of the two bedrooms, which had been 
converted into a study. 

Merry went in to find Frodo seated at the table that served as his desk. The Red 
Book lay open and the tip of his pen was black with fresh ink. Frodo was 
frowning intently at the half-filled page before him, but didn't appear to be 
actually writing anything down. 

Merry spoke his name softly, and Frodo looked up from his book and smiled. 
"Merry, hello! I didn't hear you come in."

"You were off in another world. I've brought you your letters." Merry stepped 
into the room and placed two letters on the table. "One's from Sam and the 
other's from Melly. How is the book coming along?" Now that he was closer, Merry 
could see by the wet ink on the page that Frodo had only written a few lines.

"I'm afraid I haven't done much lately. I've come to the difficult part." Frodo 
sighed and set his pen down. "Mordor." 

"That must be most painful part of the story for you," Merry said 
sympathetically.

"It would be," agreed Frodo, "if my memories of it weren't so vague. It's more 
like a nightmare to me than something real. I'll have to ask Sam to tell me what 
happened. He remembers it all."

"Why don't you? You can ride over to stay at Bag End for a day or two, or ask 
him to come visit you here if Rose will let him."

"I'll go to Bag End," said Frodo. "Sam's far too busy these days with his own 
family and his new job to come all this way to see me." 

That 'new job' had come as a surprise when Pippin had first told them about it: 
When the Chief Shirriff in Bywater had retired last summer, Mayor Whitfoot 
offered the position to Sam in light of his investigations with Frodo. In one of 
his letters, Sam had told Frodo that he'd accepted the job with the provision 
that it didn't interfere with his gardening--and so far, it hadn't. With his 
usual self-effacement, Sam also wrote that the Mayor had only offered _him_ the 
job because Frodo had been away, but Frodo thought the appointment was well 
deserved. He was enormously pleased and proud. 

Sam wrote him once a week faithfully, and through those letters as well as less 
frequent correspondence from Peony and Angelica, Frodo could see how much of a 
life Sam had gained since he'd gone. Sam's appointment as Chief Shirriff had 
made him a prominent person in his own right, and he and Rose had come up 
socially in consequence. Lad Whitfoot, the Mayor's son, and Lad's wife Angelica 
had befriended the Gamgees; whenever Sam went to Michel Delving on business, he 
had dinner with Lad and Angelica or at the Mayor's Hall. Sam had also been 
invited by Lad and Milo Burrows to attend the pony races with them this coming 
season, and Frodo's cousins were becoming regular visitors to tea at Bag End--it 
seemed to Frodo that they visited more often now than when _he_ had lived there.

Frodo had only seen Sam once since his return to the Shire, when he'd gone to 
Bag End immediately after coming home to see the new baby and gather some of his 
belongings. He'd intended to tell Sam how his relationship with Merry had 
changed while they were away, but when it had come to the point, he'd lost his 
nerve. After Sam had awaited his return so eagerly, Frodo couldn't bear to hurt 
him more than was necessary. He only told Sam that he would be staying in 
Buckland while his cousin needed him.

Even so blunted, this news had been a great disappointment to Sam, but he'd 
accepted it. He understood the obligations of family. 

Frodo spent two nights in his bedroom at Bag End, alone, and during the day 
between, he packed the personal possessions he'd left behind when he'd gone to 
Minas Tirith and made arrangements to have some of his books and heavier items 
carted to Brandy Hall. The Crickhollow cottage had been sitting empty since 
Merry and Pippin had vacated it nearly three years ago and it was in need of 
repair before it could be made livable. Frodo stayed at the Hall until the end 
of September, and moved into the cottage just after his 38th birthday.

As he read Sam's letters, Frodo was convinced that he'd done the right thing by 
removing himself from Sam Gamgee's life. His friend had gained so much in this 
past year. Since they'd been separated so long, their final parting when he went 
to the Undying Lands and be healed would be easier for them both. 

It was better too, that he spend the time he had left, however long it might be, 
with his family here in Buckland. Frodo had relatives from one end of the Shire 
to the other, but the Brandybucks were 'family' in a special way. Brandy Hall 
was his first home: he'd been born there and brought up in the nursery with the 
Brandybuck children; they were the closest he had to siblings. Saradoc and 
Esmeralda, Merry's parents, had cared for him after his own mother and father 
had drowned. And while none of the Bagginses except for Bilbo and Dora 
considered him a true and proper Baggins, the Brandybucks thought of him as one 
of their own.

He picked up his letters and broke the wax seal on Sam's. "I'll have to read 
these before dinner. You're staying for dinner, aren't you, Merry?"

Merry grinned. "Of course I'm staying, if Milli's made enough for two."

Frodo returned the smile. "She always does."

He and Merry had their dinner and, afterwards, while the maid was washing up, 
went out to sit on the grassy slope of the cottage. It was early March, and the 
first profusion of fresh green leaves were sprouting on the trees and daffodils 
were coming up in golden clumps all over. 

As he stood on top of the cottage, Frodo looked out over the hedge that 
encircled his garden. "Did you come up the lane past the other cottages?" he 
asked.

"No," said Merry, who was seated at his feet, patting his pockets for a pipe. "I 
came across the fields by way of Bucklebury. Why?"

"Celie and Merimas were quarreling earlier when I was at Uncle Dino's. He's 
teaching me how to play golf."

Since the first spring rains had abated and the days had begun to be warm, 
they'd been practicing in the mowed field behind Dinodas' cottage. His aged 
uncle used a great deal of obscure jargon, but Frodo gathered that point of the 
game was to hit little wooden balls with a hooked club, then spend the rest of 
the afternoon hunting them down in the grass. Some little red flags had been set 
up near holes around the field, but Frodo hadn't gotten anywhere near one so 
far, and Uncle Dinodas seemed to enjoy whacking his golf-balls vigorously in any 
direction, as if he didn't care where they went.

This afternoon, the search for lost balls had taken Frodo into the meadow behind 
Celie's and Merimas's cottage, which was just down the lane from Dinodas'. 
There, he had overheard Merimas berating his wife. Dinodas, who was hard of 
hearing, didn't seem to notice, but Frodo had been horribly embarrassed at his 
accidental eavesdropping. He'd left as quickly as he could, but from the shouted 
words he couldn't help overhearing, it sounded as if Merimas thought Celie was 
spending too much time with her friends, or one friend in particular. 

Celie, along with her brothers Dodi and Ilbie, went around with a set of jolly 
and noisy young hobbits, distant cousins from the cadet branch of the Brandybuck 
family in Bucklebury, and other Buckland gentry. Frodo could sometimes hear the 
parties that went on at Ivysmial since Dodi and his wife Isalda had moved in, 
and he knew that Merimas didn't approve of such festivities.

Frodo felt sorry for Celie. He wasn't as close to her as he was to Merry and 
Melilot, for Celie was much younger than he and only a baby when he'd left the 
Brandybuck nursery, but he was fond of her. She was a lively, sweet-tempered 
girl who had unfortunately taken too much interest in boys too early for her 
family's comfort, and had been married off as soon as possible to the most 
respectable, eligible young hobbit available, her eldest cousin Merimas. Merimas 
was not a lively hobbit. Frodo wasn't on bad terms with Merimas, even though 
Merimas didn't entirely approve of _him_, but he hated the way Merimas spoke so 
sharply to Celie and always seemed to imply that her natural high spirits were 
something less reputable.

"Quarreling? Again?"

Frodo nodded. "I wondered if they were still at it." He sat down beside his 
cousin and took out his own pipe.

"What's the news from Sam and Melly?" Merry asked as they lay down on the grass 
to smoke. "Anything interesting?"

"Sam's letter was mostly about the baby." Many of Sam's letters were about 
little Elanor and what a remarkable infant she was. "Oh, and did I tell you 
Rosie's expecting again?"

"You did, after Sam's last letter. So is Estella, by the by. She told everyone 
this morning, when the aunties noticed how she didn't want any breakfast. 
They've been suspecting it the last couple of weeks. Everybody's having babies, 
except for us--thank goodness! And how's Melly?"

"She and Ev and their little boy are well, and so is the rest of the family. 
Peri and Ferdi are back from their honeymoon..." Frodo hesitated, then told 
Merry, "Pippin's home."

"Is he?" Merry examined his pipe and spoke with studied casualness, as if he 
weren't keenly interested in this news. "He couldn't have gone all the way to 
Dale and back since he left us."

"The troupe was going to spend the winter in Minas Tirith," said Frodo, knowing 
that Merry knew this as well as he did. 

"Yes, that's right. I wonder if Strider was surprised to see him back again so 
soon. What about Pimmy? Did she come home too?"

"Melly says not."

"I suppose she's going to marry that acrobat she was sweet on." Merry laughed. 
"Can you imagine how Aunt Eggie will welcome a rope-walking circus performer as 
a son-in-law?" 

"Maybe she won't mind it so much," said Frodo. "After all, all three of her 
daughters will have been married off successfully." 

"And that just leaves Pip to find a wife for. The Tooks won't have given up on 
that plan, especially not now that I'm out of the way. Maybe Pip won't put up a 
fight this time." Merry turned his head to look at Frodo. "The aunties still 
haven't given up hope that _I'll_ be getting married someday, and Uncle Merry 
keeps hinting that now that I'm Master of the Hall, I have duties to the family 
I mustn't forget. As if I could forget my duties now! At least he doesn't push 
girls at me the way Father used to. Mother, thank goodness, seems to 
understand."

"She knows about us, you know."

Merry's eyebrows shot up. "Does she?" 

Frodo nodded. "She told me so one night after dinner. She said she'd guessed it 
when we first came home, but realized we were trying to be discreet and didn't 
want to embarrass us." He smiled. "She said she was surprised it should be _me_, 
but I'd always been another son to her, and always would be." 

"Mother's wonderful," said Merry. "It's a pity I can't marry _you_, Frodo." 

"I'd do it if you asked me nicely," Frodo responded, "but I don't think the 
family would see it as a step in the right direction."

Merry laughed. "If it weren't for the unlikelihood of us producing a Brandybuck 
heir together, I expect they'd say I'd made a very good match and was lucky to 
get you." He cast one arm out over the grass toward Frodo, hand spread to reach 
for him; Frodo extended his own hand to clasp it.

"Maybe I will marry someday, for duty's sake," Merry went on thoughtfully. "But 
if I ever do, I'll tell the girl about my past--Pip and you and the rest of it. 
The gossip's been all over the Shire, so she surely must have heard something 
about me already. I mean for her, whoever she is, to understand what sort of 
husband she'll have. I don't expect it to shock her. Girls aren't the innocent 
little lambikins we're told they are. Most of `em know what's what even if they 
haven't had a chance to try it out for themselves. I wouldn't like to marry 
anybody who was _too_ innocent. I've corrupted enough innocents. I wouldn't 
expect her to have as much experience as me-"

"I don't see how she _could_," Frodo murmured, teasing. 

Merry pulled up a handful of grass and threw it at him. "Well, why shouldn't a 
girl have love affairs?" he asked. "Jelly did, and that was with the boy she 
wanted to--and did!--marry, and yet people whisper about it as if she'd done 
something awful. Or look at poor little Celie and the way Merimas carries on 
because she might've had a bit of fun with a boy or two before she married him. 
She certainly never did anything worse than _I_ did, but they matched her with 
that stick-in-the-mud while she was too young to stand up for herself. They 
wouldn't have tried that with me!"

"What if they'd tried to marry _you_ to Celie?" asked Frodo.

"I'm sure I'd be a disappointing husband to a girl who likes boys as much as I 
do, but at least I wouldn't nag her about having her own fun if she didn't 
trouble me about mine."

Below them, the kitchen door opened. "I'm going now, Mr. Frodo, if there's 
nothing else," the maid called out, unseen around the curve of the cottage.

"No, Milli, nothing," Frodo called back. "Thank you."

After a moment's pause, Milli asked delicately, "Will Master Merry be here for 
breakfast?"

Merry grinned at Frodo and answered, "Yes, Milli."

"I'll bring in extra eggs and milk tomorrow then. G'night t'ye both!"

"Good night!" they called after her. The gate creaked as she went out.

Frodo laughed. "I'm sure she knows just what goes on here whenever you visit."

"I'm sure of it myself," Merry agreed, "but she won't carry tales. That's why I 
engaged Milli particularly. She's had her fill of gossip."

Frodo wondered what he meant by this, but before he could ask, Merry pounced and 
rolled him onto the grass for some kissing.

They stayed lying out in the grass until dusk, when it began to grow chilly. 
While Merry never fussed over Frodo's health as much as Sam had, he suggested 
that it was time they went in. As they came down the slope by the cottage's 
brick front, they heard Celie shouting in the distance--"Merimas!"--and then saw 
a dark-headed figure, presumably Merimas, go swiftly past Crickhollow's gate a 
minute later. 

"Still at it," murmured Frodo. "Poor Celie." 

They went inside. In the sitting-room, he knelt on the hearthrug to make up the 
fire. Merry stood over him, watching him thoughtfully.

"You are happy here, aren't you, Frodo?" he asked. "It's wonderful having you 
nearby, but you needn't stay just on my account. You can go back to Bag End any 
time you like. I wouldn't try to stop you."

"I know, but I _am_ happy." Frodo turned his attention to the fire, feeding the 
tiny blaze twigs and scraps of loose bark to make it grow. "I miss Sam, and Bag 
End, but when I was there last, I felt as if they weren't _mine_ anymore. I'd 
been gone so long. I felt like an intruder. Bag End is Sam's and Rosie's home 
now. It's just as it would've been if I'd never altered the natural course of 
his life."

"Except they'd be living with the Cottons, or with the Gaffer in Bagshot Row or 
in some other tiny bungalow," said Merry, "and _not_ in one of the pleasantest 
houses in Hobbiton. You don't even make them pay rent for it, do you?"

"The house will be theirs by rights anyway, after I'm gone. For the present, I 
prefer living here at Crickhollow. It's private. I can do as I please, have 
whatever visitors I please, without worrying about what the nosy neighbors will 
say." Frodo smiled, and Merry grinned in response and crouched down onto the 
hearthrug beside him. He put one hand on Frodo's cheek and they leaned in toward 
each other for a soft kiss. "Besides," Frodo added when their mouths parted, "I 
like living alone."

"You aren't lonely? You could come to stay at the Hall for awhile if you are," 
Merry offered. "Hardly anyone's there these days--only Mother and the aunties, 
Uncle Merry, Ilbie and Estella. The place feels quite empty."

"That's because they all come to visit me nearly as often as you do," Frodo 
rejoined. "You mustn't worry that I'm ever lonely, Merry. Your mother sees that 
I'm asked to tea and dinner often enough that I'm no stranger to the Hall. Ilbie 
and `Stella, and Dodi and Isalda, come to call at least once a week, and Fatty 
and Flora drop by whenever they're in Buckland to visit their sisters. Celie 
sometimes brings her little boys to play with Milli's Jem. And you know about 
Uncle Dino and the golf lessons. When I don't want company, it's quiet here--no 
excitement except for a party down the lane or a domestic squabble once in 
awhile. Not like those days when we were professional investigators and it 
seemed like everyone in the Shire was knocking on the door and asking for my 
help."

"But don't you miss detecting, Frodo, at least a little?"

"A little," Frodo admitted. "It was gratifying to be able to help people when 
they were in trouble, but it was sometimes very hard to see their trouble and 
the ugly secrets that turned up when we looked too closely. All those things I 
still don't like to believe hobbits are capable of." Also, the extent of his 
reputation as the Great Investigator had begun to alarm him. He'd never wanted 
that kind of fame, nor the burden of responsibility for the lives and deaths of 
other people. It was all right, even fun, to have a curious puzzle to solve, but 
so many of his cases involved real people--hobbits, Men, Elves--in real pain. "I 
may take it up again one day, if it's a special case, but until then, I'm not 
sorry I've retired. I have what I've wanted since my quest was ended--a peaceful 
life with someone I love." 

He leaned in to kiss Merry again. True, Merry wasn't the person he'd envisioned 
this peaceful life with, but he was content. Sam was always in his thoughts, as 
he knew Pippin was in Merry's, but they had found a measure of happiness with 
each other.

!~|ii|~!

They were at breakfast the next morning when there was a knock on the door. 
Milli went to answer it. Seated in the kitchen, Frodo and Merry could hear the 
exchange of feminine voices in the front hall:

"Milli, good morning. Is Frodo up? May I speak to him, please?"

"Of course, Missus Celie. Mr. Frodo's at breakfast. Come in."

A moment later, the maidservant returned with Celie. Celie Brandybuck was a 
pretty young hobbit of thirty, small and plump, with a profusion of brown curls. 
Celie hesitated at the kitchen doorway, but did not look surprised, when she saw 
that Merry was having breakfast with Frodo. Most of the family was aware that 
Merry frequently spent his nights at the Crickhollow cottage and, knowing Merry 
as they did, must guess the reason why. "I'm not- ah- interrupting?" 

"No, not at all. What's wrong?" Since she appeared rather anxious, Frodo invited 
her to sit down and poured a cup of tea for her while she told them.

"It's Merimas," Celie explained. "Have you seen him? He left me last night. We- 
ah- quarreled. You must've heard." She glanced from one cousin to the other, and 
both nodded. "He went off down the lane in a fit of temper. I ran after him a 
ways, but he was walking too fast and I didn't want to leave the babies alone to 
chase him. I waited up for him, but he never came home." 

"We saw him go past the gate at sunset," said Frodo, "but he didn't come in."

"Could he have gone the long way `round, past Bucklebury, to the Hall?" asked 
Merry. "If he didn't want to go home, he might've spent the night there."

"Yes, that's possible," Celie agreed, but sounded doubtful.

"I'm sure it's all right, Ceel. He's only gone off to sulk. Why don't I walk 
back to the Hall with you to see if he's there? I ought to return soon anyway." 
While Merry could, and often did, spend the night away from the Hall, he had to 
return for the day. "Uncle Merry will be expecting me."

!~|*|~!

After Celie and Merry had gone, Frodo spent the rest of the morning quietly and 
gave Merimas's flight little more thought. Like Merry, Frodo assumed that 
Merimas was off sulking somewhere and would return when he thought his wife had 
been sufficiently punished by his absence. 

He tried to work on his book, but wrote little. Whenever he tried to remember 
Mordor, he saw it only in brief, vivid flashes: the tower rising between the 
cleft in the rocks at the end of the passage at Cirith Ungol; the sharp stab of 
pain that struck him unaware; the red-lit room at the tower's top, and the soul-
shrinking horror he'd felt when he realized that the Ring was gone; orc faces 
looming at him, leering; Sam kneeling over him, smiling; the endless fields of 
soot and ash and the choking, poisonous fumes; the weight of the terrible burden 
about his neck like a millstone; the circle of fire that grew in his mind until 
it consumed all else; the mountain and the rocky outcropping over the pit of 
molten lava where he'd stood with the Ring in his hand... When he tried to put 
it all down on paper, he found he couldn't form a coherent sentence. These were 
fragments of memories, no more. Not a story.

He would have to write to Sam and say he was coming for a visit. It was only 
fair to let the Gamgees know in advance, rather than simply go and show up 
unexpectedly at Bag End when they weren't prepared for a guest.

After lunch, he gave Milli the afternoon off and went to call on Uncle Dinodas 
for their regular golfing session. From the lane before Dinodas's cottage, he 
could see that no one was home at Celie's and Merimas's cottage next door. 

At tea-time, he went to Brandy Hall. He hadn't been specifically invited today, 
but Merry's mother, Lady Esmeralda, greeted him warmly. "Of course you're 
welcome, darling," she said. "Come into the drawing room--everyone's gathered 
for tea, except Merry and Merimac."

"Are they still working?" asked Frodo.

"It's the tenant farmers' rents. They've got to add everything that was paid 
into the account books. Merry doesn't need to sit through it--his uncle does the 
accounting--but he wants to learn how to manage Buckland properly. He never used 
to pay attention to such things." She lay a hand on Frodo's cheek. "You've been 
a good influence on Merry, dear. Since you've come home, he's matured and become 
more responsible. He's shown himself to be a better Master than his father or 
uncle anticipated. I'd like to think Saradoc would be proud of how well Merry's 
done, although what he might say of your part in it... Well, at least, he'd have 
to acknowledge that Pippin wasn't the problem. It's simply the way Merry is. If 
Saradoc had forced Merry to give up Pippin, there would only be another boy. I'm 
pleased it's you." 

As she lowered her hand from his cheek, she gave him a kiss on the same spot, 
then took his arm. They went into the drawing room. 

The aunties had assembled around the tea-table: tall, elegant Mellisaunte, plump 
little Hilda, an older version of her daughter Celie, and Beryl Bolger, who had 
accompanied her niece Estella to Brandy Hall upon the girl's marriage to Hilda's 
younger son Ilberic. Ilbie and Estella were seated near the fire with Ilbie's 
brother Doderic and his wife Isalda. Frodo stopped to say hello to them, and to 
congratulate Ilbie and Estella on their expected baby.

Celie had taken an armchair not far from the young couples, but did not join in 
their chatter. Frodo thought she looked more worried now than she had when she'd 
visited his cottage that morning, and he guessed before she told him that she'd 
seen no sign of Merimas all day. 

"He wasn't here when I came with Merry this morning," she confided to Frodo. "I 
didn't know what to do. I've brought my little boys over--they're up in the 
nursery. I thought we'd stay at the Hall tonight. I couldn't bear waiting at the 
cottage all night again, if he didn't come..."

"He'll come home, Celie," said Dodi. "Maybe it'll do him good to see you haven't 
been sitting and crying your eyes out over him. The way he speaks to you, you 
ought to be glad he's gone for the day. I don't know why you put up with it--_I_ 
wouldn't if I were married to him." Dodi's and Isalda's cottage, Ivysmial, was 
much closer to Celie's and Merimas's home, and Frodo guessed that they had 
greater opportunities to hear the quarrels than _he_ did. They must certainly 
have overheard more of yesterday's shouting. 

Celie only answered, "You wouldn't understand," and curled up in her chair and 
sipped her tea. She obviously wanted to be left alone, and so Frodo went to chat 
with his aunts and other cousins. After awhile, Merry and Uncle Merimac finished 
their business in the Master's study and joined them. Merry was delighted to see 
Frodo there, and flopped down on the sofa and lay his feet in Frodo's lap while 
they told each other about their respective day apart.

The family was finishing their tea when the bells on one of Brandy Hall's three 
front doors chimed. No one moved to answer it--they had numerous servants to 
perform such tasks--but Celie watched the entrance to the drawing room anxiously 
until Bramblebanks, the Hall porter and major domo, escorted the Buckland Chief 
Shirriff Muggeredge in.

"I've come to speak to Mrs. Brandybuck," the shirriff explained--then, since 
there were a number of Mrs. Brandybucks in the room, clarified, "Mrs. Celandine 
Brandybuck, that is." 

Celie rose from her chair and came forward. "Yes, what is it?"

"I've come to tell you, Ma'am, your husband Mr. Merimas has been found," the 
Shirriff spoke gently.

"Is he all right?"

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Brandybuck. I'm sorry to say he's dead."

There were gasps and cries of surprise around the room. Merry sat upright. When 
Celie sank down as if her legs had given out beneath her, her brother Ilbie 
caught her by the arm and helped to her the nearest seat.

"Wh-what happened?" asked Mellisaunte. Her face had gone white at the news of 
her son's death. She had already lost one daughter under tragic circumstances. 
"Was there an accident?" 

"It doesn't look so, Ma'am," the sherriff said apologetically. "He was struck 
down in the lane that runs along the Hedge, hit in the head. We think as it was 
done on purpose."

"Where is he?" cried Celie. "Can I see him?"

"We've brought him to the guardhouse at Newbury, Mrs. Brandybuck, but it might 
be best if you didn't see him yet. He was hit pretty badly." Shirriff Muggeredge 
looked even more contrite that he should have to tell the dead hobbit's wife and 
mother this. "But I must ask Master Merry to come."

Merry nodded grimly. As part of his duties as Master of the Hall, he was also 
the local magistrate; he was called upon to judge cases when Bucklanders 
requested his arbitration in a dispute, and oversaw the investigation of serious 
crimes. This was the first such crime to occur since he'd come home. "Yes, of 
course, Shirriff." He lay a hand on Frodo's wrist. "Frodo?"

When she heard Merry speak Frodo's name, Celie turned to them, her eyes tearful 
but suddenly brighter. "Yes, Frodo," she said. "Come with us, please."

Other members of the Brandybuck family were also turning to regard him 
hopefully. No one had asked, but Frodo understood what they expected him to do. 
Only yesterday, he'd told Merry that he would take up investigating again if 
there was a special need. He hadn't imagined then that his services would be 
needed so soon.

!~|iii|~!

They went to Newbury, to the long, low building at the eastern end of town that 
had been built to serve as an armory during the dark days when the borders of 
the Shire had been threatened, and was now used as a central shirriffs' office. 
Frodo had not been here since Merry had been kept shut up in the back room, 
under arrest for the murder of their cousin Berilac. 

As Chief Muggeredge showed them into the long front chamber of the guardhouse, 
where Merimas's body had been laid on a table beneath a sheet, Frodo saw that 
the shirriff who had been set to keep watch was Hob Hayward, who had guarded 
Merry as a prisoner three years ago. At the Brandybucks' entrance, Hob leapt up 
from his seat, his red-feathered cap in hand. 

Celie and Melisaunte had insisted on coming, but at the sight of the sheet-
draped figure, the girl stopped in the doorway and would go no further. She 
gripped her mother-in-law by the hand, and Melisaunte stayed with her while 
Frodo and Merry went with the Chief Shirriff to view their cousin's body.

Carefully shielding the sight from the ladies' view, Chief Muggeredge held up 
one corner of the sheet to show them: Merimas's face was muddy and discolored, 
but undamaged. His dark and curly hair, however, was clumped with thick, dried 
clots of blood, and trickles of blood had run down his right cheek and temple to 
dry in brown-red streaks, which suggested to Frodo that Merimas had died some 
time ago and had fallen to lie face-down after he'd been struck. Had he faced 
his murderer, Frodo wondered, or had the blow come from behind? 

"Is it... very bad?" asked Celie.

Merry took out his handkerchief to cover the top of Merimas's head. "It's all 
right, Ceel, Auntie. You can look if you want to."

Celie ventured close enough to see her husband's face. "Oh, it is him!" she 
cried out, as if she hadn't believed it was true until now, and fled out of the 
hall. 

"It is Merimas." Melisaunte reached out to touch the dirty smudges on her son's 
cheek, then moved the edge of the handkerchief to see the streaks of blood that 
ran down the side of his face. "My poor boy. He'd never let his face get so 
dirty if he could help himself." Her voice choked. "We'll have to wash him 
before we can lay him out properly. He would never want to be seen so untidy." 
Then she turned abruptly and went outside after her daughter-in-law.

Merry turned to the shirriffs and said, "My cousin's body must be conveyed to 
the Hall to be laid out, as my aunt wishes, for his funeral. Will you arrange 
it?" It was an order, and both Hob and Muggeredge nodded solemnly.

"Where was he found?" Frodo asked them.

"Mr. Merimas was lying under the Hedge not far from Newbury, his head broken in 
as you see," the Chief Shirriff replied. "By the look of him, he must've been 
killed last night and was lying there through the day. He was struck hard in the 
head, by a rock I'd say."

"Who found him?"

"It was a couple of farmers, Jebro Todbrush and his brother Tedro. They was 
coming down the lane by the Hedge into town after the day's work for their 
regular halves of ale at the High Hay across the green, and they came straight 
here to tell Hob."

"And I ran to fetch the Chief," Hob added.

"Where are the Todbrushes now?" Merry asked.

"They're at the High Hay," said Hob. "After they helped me bring Mr. Merimas in, 
they wanted their ales more'n usual."

"I expect you'll want to speak to them, Master Merry," Muggeredge said. 

"Yes, we will--my cousin Frodo and I." Merry took Frodo by the wrist, as he had 
in the Brandy Hall drawing room. "You know that my cousin, Mr. Baggins, is quite 
famous as an investigator."

The Sherriff nodded. "Aye, we used to hear tales of Mr. Frodo Baggins and his 
investigations. I remember how he got you out of that trouble, Master Merry, 
when your cousin Mr. Berilac was knocked into the river, and how he found that 
Mrs. Stillwaters up Bridgefields-way who everybody said had run off." He looked 
at Frodo speculatively, as if wondering how much the 'famous investigator' 
intended to be involved in this murder. Frodo wasn't certain of the answer to 
that yet himself.

"We'll want to see where Merimas was found as well," he said. It was near sunset 
now and would soon be too dark to search the place tonight; Sherriff Muggeredge 
agreed that Hob would take them there in the morning.

While Merry spoke with the sherriffs to make further arrangements, Frodo left 
the guardhouse. Celie and Melisaunte were seated on a bench outside the door; 
the elder hobbit-lady sat upright with tears on her face, her arms around the 
young girl, who was sobbing into her handkerchief. 

"I'm so sorry, Auntie, Celie," he said to them softly. It seemed an inadequate 
expression of sympathy in the face of their grief, but he couldn't think of 
anything else to say. 

Celie looked up at him hopefully. "You will find out who did this, won't you, 
Frodo? You'll find who killed Merimas."

"Of course he will," Merry said reassuringly before Frodo could form his usual 
answer about doing his best. 

"The sherriffs won't mind?" asked Frodo. He had not directly encountered the 
Chief Sherriff the last time he'd investigated a murder in Buckland, but he 
remembered how Hob had resented his interference and suggestions on where to 
search for clues.

"No, there'll be no objection," said Merry. "I've had a word with Chief 
Muggeredge and told him you're to be given every aid to find Merimas's 
murderer." 

Frodo nodded, solemnly accepting the responsibility. After seven months of 
peaceful retirement, he was an investigator again.

Merry turned to address his aunt. "I've arranged for Merimas to be brought to 
the Hall tomorrow, Aunt Melisaunte. You and Celie may as well go home 
yourselves. There's little more to be done here tonight, and Frodo and I will do 
it."

!~|iv|~!

After they'd seen the ladies off home, Frodo and Merry went into the High Hay 
tavern across the green. The townsfolk and neighboring farmers had gathered, as 
was usual at the end of the working day, and many were murmuring excitedly about 
the news of the dead body found by the Hedge. The Todbrush brothers had 
apparently repeated their tale to all who would listen. 

"`Tis a pity," an elderly hobbit at a table nearby was speaking as Merry and 
Frodo came in; there was a small cubby just inside the front door, where patrons 
could hang their cloaks before entering the common room, and the pair were not 
immediately seen. "First `twas Mr. Merimac's lad, then the lass as was lost in 
the river, then Master Saradoc only this summer past, and now it's this other 
young gent."

"You might say as the Brandybucks was under a curse," answered another aged 
hobbit seated beside him. "`Tis more'n any family, particularly one so high-up, 
should have to bear in so short a time." 

"It's Mr. Berilac all over again," a woman at another table said to her 
companion. "_He_ was hit over the head just the same as this poor lad. And I'll 
wager Missus Celandine Brandybuck's at the back o' this murder too."

"Missus Celandine?" her companion echoed, scandalized. "Not his own wife?"

The woman nodded knowingly over her mug. "Now, I don't say as she _killed_ him, 
not the one or the other, but you remember how there was talk about her and Mr. 
Berry when she was a lass not yet married. `Twas almost a scandal, and there's 
been talk since as how her husband an't forgot it. And now where's _he_? Dead 
just the same!" She slapped one palm down on the table as if this were a 
conclusive point.

Although they couldn't hear the conversations at other tables as distinctly, 
Frodo and Merry caught the names of Berilac and Celie being spoken elsewhere as 
well. This new tragedy reminded everyone of that old one.

The gossipers fell silent and some even looked embarrassed when they realized 
that the Master of the Hall had come in. The Todbrushes were seated at the bar 
in the midst of an enthralled audience as they told their story yet again--"and 
there he lay, t'blood all over his busted head!"--but they too shut up as Merry 
approached.

"My sympathies to you and yours, Master Merry," said the tavern-keeper on the 
other side of the bar, as if he were apologizing for the crowd. "We've all heard 
the sad news about your cousin, Mr. Merimas." 

"Thank you," said Merry graciously. "Your sympathy is greatly appreciated." Then 
he turned to the Todbrush brothers. "It was the two of you we wanted to speak 
to. Sherriff Muggeredge tells us that you found my kinsman's body." 

"That's so, Master Merry," said the elder brother.

"And you've been telling everyone your story about it."

"Aye, Master Merry," the other brother admitted, and looked contrite.

"You may have heard that my cousin, Mr. Baggins here, is an expert investigator. 
He's looking into Merimas's murder." Merry spoke loudly enough that others in 
the room could hear this; he wanted everyone to know that a professional was 
involved in the case. Frodo, however, felt rather self-conscious at all the eyes 
upon him. "If you don't mind, we'd like very much to hear your story ourselves." 

The Todbrushes didn't mind. Merry bought the two farmers each a fresh half-pint 
of ale, and guided them toward an empty table at the back of the room where they 
could talk without an audience listening in. 

"Now, lads," he said as he set the mugs down, "let's hear it."

"There's naught much to tell, Master Merry," said Jebro diffidently. Frodo 
guessed that he and Merry were going to receive a less lurid but hopefully more 
accurate account of the event than the other patrons of the tavern had. "We was 
coming up t'lane after a bite o' dinner at t'farm, Ted 'n' me. Sun hadn't gone 
low yet, and 'twas shining down under Hedge. It was Ted who seen 'm first."

"That's right," his brother agreed. "I saw his feet sticking out from tall 
grass. Jeb said, '`Tis a gent from t'Hall, fallen down.' We thought he was in a 
fit or had a drop too much, or sommat of the sort, `til we went to have a close 
look. Then we saw t'blood on his head, and how his face was all purple when we 
turned 'm over and he was cold to touch. `Twas then we knew as he was dead, 
killed."

It was a simple story, but Frodo thought there were a few points that needed to 
be cleared up. "You said that, when you first saw the body, you recognized it as 
'a gent from the Hall.' Were you acquainted with our cousin Merimas?"

The two brothers glanced at each other. "Not 'quainted, as such, Mr. Baggins," 
answered Tedro. "We seen 'm about, but there's lots o' young Brandybuck gents, 
`tisn't easy to tell one from another."

"We knew `twas one o' them," said Jebro.

"Where is your farm?" 

"Down south, Mr. Baggins, t'other side o' Hill."

"The Todbrush Farm is south of Buck Hill on the eastward edge of Buckland," 
Merry clarified the geography. "The lane that runs beside the Hedge takes you 
directly into Newbury, isn't that right?"

"Aye, that it is, Master Merry," said Tedro.

Frodo had at first been surprised that Merry was acquainted with the Todbrushes, 
but he began to understand that the pair of young farmers were tenants on 
Brandybuck property; this would explain both Merry's familiarity with them and 
their farm, and their servility to him. 

Although he and Merry had been home more than six months, Frodo didn't go out 
much and it was still strange to him to observe the way the local folk now 
treated his cousin. As Heir to the Hall, Merry had generally been deemed a bit 
wild but 'a good sort of lad' by the Bucklanders, and they had treated him with 
a friendly informality. If he entered a pub, he would be greeted with a joke or 
wink and offers to buy him a half-pint. This new formality and deference to 
'Master Merry' took some getting used to--and if it was odd to him, how much 
odder it must be to his normally easy-going cousin. While Merry seemed to take 
up his role as Master readily when it was necessary, Frodo had often heard him 
laugh about it when they were alone.

"Do you come here to the High Hay in Newbury regularly?" Frodo asked the 
Todbrushes. "Your farm is closer to Bucklebury. Do you ever go to the Buckle's 
Notch there?"

"We been there a-times," said Tedro, "but 'tis more friendly-like here at 
t'Hay."

"Not so much o' t'high folk," added Jebro, "and t'ale is worth a longer walk."

Frodo understood. Bucklebury was home to the cadet branch of the Brandybuck 
family, and the Buckle's Notch pub there was a favorite haunt of the young lads 
from the Hall. High folk, indeed!

"Is the Hedge lane the usual path you take to walk to and from Newbury?" asked 
Frodo, and received two nods in reply. "Did you go that way last night? Did you 
see anything, or anyone, then?"

"I didna," said Tedro, "but Jeb 'n' me didna go at the same time. I had me half 
as I do, 'n went back t'farm 'bout this hour last night. `Twas getting on dark, 
and I mightna see if there was ought to be seen under Hedge. Jeb came home 
later."

"That's right." Jebro explained tersely, "I stopped in town to see my Missus."

"Your wife doesn't live at your farm with you?" asked Frodo. This was most 
unusual. Married hobbits very rarely lived apart, even when they didn't get 
along.

Jebro shook his head, mouth set in a stubborn, tight-lipped line. 

Frodo would have pressed for more information about this strange situation, but 
Merry gave him a look that warned him not to. Frodo asked no more questions 
about the farmer's family life. "When did you go home, Farmer Todbrush?" he 
asked instead. "You saw nothing in the lane?"

"Woulda said sommat if I did, Mr. Baggins," Jebro replied. "When Ted 'n' me saw 
him a-lying there, we went t'shirriffs."

This confirmed what Hob Hayward had already told them. Since there was little 
more information the Todbrushes could give them, the two gentlehobbits thanked 
them and left the tavern. 

Once they were outside, Merry explained, "I'm sorry I had to stop you, Frodo, 
but you were about to make an awful blunder. Jeb Todbrush is Milli's husband." 

Frodo had had no idea his maid-servant's husband was still alive. Milli never 
spoke of her marriage, and he'd assumed that she was a widow. "But she goes by 
the name of Pibble." 

"Yes, that's her maiden name. There was an awful quarrel between her and Jeb, 
and a scandal, and so she took her little boy and went back to Newbury to live 
with her mother. She used to work as a servant at the Hall before she married, 
and when I heard she was in need, and _you_ needed someone to cook and sweep for 
you, I hired her. I do try to look after our people, but it's best not to pry 
into their private affairs. Neither Milli nor Jeb would thank you."

"I didn't mean to pry," Frodo answered. "Only, I didn't know, and it seemed so 
curious." He understood fully now why Merry knew so much about the Todbrushes. 
"It's nothing to do with Merimas's death, and that's all I'm concerned with. 
You've set me to find a murderer, and I'll do the best I can."

"Your best has always been good enough before," Merry replied, and put an arm 
around Frodo once they had left Newbury and were out of sight of the town and 
its gossipers. "Chief Muggeredge means well, but he and his shirrifs are better 
suited to breaking up alehouse quarrels and catching stray cows than solving 
murders. They aren't the investigators you are, Frodo, and I'm not the 
magistrate my father was. There'll be no muddle this time, and no injustices 
done. Nobody will be locked up in gaol until _you_ name the right person." 

Frodo knew just what he was referring to: when their cousin Berilac had been 
killed and suspicion had fallen upon Merry, Saradoc had allowed his son to be 
arrested and kept prisoner in the guardhouse, ostensibly in the interests of 
impartial justice, but also as a punishment for Merry's refusing to give up 
Pippin and marry a suitable girl chosen for him. Frodo's own efforts to free 
Merry and find Berilac's murderer had set him on his career as a professional 
investigator. That had also been the beginning of the irreparable breach between 
father and son; Merry had never forgiven Saradoc for this unfair treatment and 
spent little time in Buckland thereafter, eventually leaving the Shire 
altogether over a quarrel with his father. As Merry spoke, Frodo realized how 
strongly he still felt about the incident; now that he was Master, Merry was 
determined not to misuse his authority and allow such a thing to happen to 
anyone else.

Beyond the southeastern end of the town, the path diverged into multiple tracks 
across woods, farmlands and meadows; one lead to the path along the Hedge, and 
another to the Crickhollow lane. For a moment, Frodo considered going to look 
for the spot where Merimas had been found, but it was now dark and he and Merry 
hadn't brought a lantern with them. It would have to wait until morning. They 
headed down the Crickhollow lane and were at his cottage within minutes. 

"Will you come back to the Hall tonight?" Merry asked as they stopped at the 
cottage gate. "You meant to stay for dinner. I doubt there'll be much of one--
nobody will feel hungry--but they'll want to hear all about Merimas."

"I'm not terribly hungry myself," answered Frodo, "but I am rather tired. If I'm 
going to begin an investigation tomorrow, I'll need my rest." 

Merry drew him into an embrace, and rubbed his back comfortingly. "I'm sorry, 
Frodo. I know how you wanted peace and quiet, not another murder to solve."

"It can't be helped. Merimas didn't ask to be killed, but since he has been, I 
can't turn away from the people who need me to find out who did it."

"You never could, my dear." They stood for a moment in the twilight, holding 
each other. Once they'd kissed good-night, Frodo went in and Merry went on to 
the Hall. 

!~|v|~!

Hob Hayward came to the cottage the next morning, explaining to Frodo that he'd 
already been to the Hall and Master Merry wasn't able to come; since Merimas's 
body had been brought in and there were funeral arrangements and family matters 
to attend to, Merry wanted Frodo to go on to the Hedge without him, and to come 
to the Hall afterwards.

Frodo agreed to this, and told Milli she could go home. Milli had heard of the 
murder the night before, as had everyone in Newbury and for miles around. 
Whether or not she'd heard how her estranged husband had found Merimas's body, 
Frodo didn't know. He didn't tell her that he'd met Jebro last night. And while 
Milli expressed the greatest sympathy for "poor Missus Celie," she was also very 
nervous at the idea of a murderer running about. She had braved the footpath to 
come and make Frodo his breakfast as usual, but she spoke so frequently of her 
little son Jem, left in the care of her mother, and looked so often out the 
kitchen window as if she were expecting Merimas's murderer to be lurking in the 
garden shrubbery that Frodo believed she would be happier watching over her 
child than looking after him today. 

He and Hob walked with the maidservant as far as the end of the Crickhollow 
lane, then saw her off into town before they went to view the place where 
Merimas had been found beneath the Hedge.

The Hedge, or High Hay as it was also called, marked the eastern border of 
Buckland and the Shire, creating a barrier between the hobbits' civilized little 
land and the strange wilderness of the Old Forest just beyond. The trees in the 
Old Forest were said to have a malicious will of their own, and even odder 
inhabitants were said to walk beneath their branches; there was a tunnel beneath 
the Hedge that led into the forest, but only the bravest hobbits ventured in 
under the full light of day. No one liked to go near at night. 

Frodo wondered what had brought Merimas here. They'd seen him fly off in a 
temper at dusk. Where had he been flying to? He might have been going into 
Bucklebury to the Buckle's Notch for a drink, or to spend the night at Brandy 
Hall, but if he had, he'd been going the long way around. It would be much 
quicker to go down to the other end of the Crickhollow lane and take the main 
road by the river, or cut across the meadows. If he'd been on his way into 
Newbury or on his way home, this was an even odder path to take. Had the 
murderer followed him here intending to strike him down over some personal 
grudge, or had Merimas died simply because he'd blundered into the wrong place?

The Hedge was a wall of close-planted yew, as old as Buckland itself, more than 
twenty feet tall. The lane ran within a few feet of its base. The grass grew 
tall on either side, and clusters of smaller shrubs and trees rose here and 
there. Hob led Frodo along this path quietly for some minutes, then stopped at a 
place where the grass had been crushed flat and said, "It was here, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo examined the area closely. There had been no rain in over a week, so the 
dirt of the lane was dry and showed no sign of fresh footprints. The crushed 
grass, however, showed the imprints of many feet, and there was a longer, 
flattened area where Merimas had fallen when he'd been struck, or been placed 
afterwards. His body had lain close enough to the path that either was possible. 

"The Todbrushes said that they turned Merimas face up when they found him," 
Frodo recalled. "Is that how you first saw him, Hob?"

"That's right, Mr. Frodo. Mr. Merimas was flat on his back when they brought me 
to 'm." Hob held his arms out, hands up beside his head, as if to demonstrate 
Merimas's sprawled position. "They said as he was on his face when they found 
'm, and his head just under those bushes by the Hay. You can see a bit o' blood 
there." 

"Yes, thank you." Frodo crouched down to have a closer look at the dried stains 
on the grass. He saw no rocky outcroppings nearby, nothing that Merimas could 
have accidentally hit his head on. "Chief Muggeredge said that Merimas had most 
likely been struck in the head by a rock. Have you found it?" 

"No, sir," Hob answered. "The Chief thought as you might want us to search 
hereabouts for it. He's told the other local shirriffs, but as Master Merry's 
put you in charge, we thought as we'd best wait for you to say so."

"Let's see if we can't find it ourselves first, Hob, before we set a lot of 
other people trampling over this spot." With Hob's assistance, Frodo spent the 
next hour crawling over the grass on either side of the path, peering at the 
root of the Hedge and into the underbrush beneath every nearby copse and bush, 
but found no rock, stick, or hobbit-made tools with traces of blood on them.

His back and knees aching, Frodo gave up and sent Hob into Newbury with a 
request that the search be continued with as many deputized sherriffs as 
Muggeredge could gather. Then he returned to Crickhollow for a quick wash-up, 
and to change into a clean shirt and somber waistcoat before he went to the 
Hall.

On the way down the lane, he stopped at Dinodas's cottage to tell his uncle that 
their afternoon golf practice must be suspended while he was investigating 
Merimas's murder. Dinodas was sorry to hear about Merimas's death--"a fine lad," 
the elderly hobbit said with a shake of his head, "if a noisy one, with all his 
shouting over this 'n' that"--but he seemed chiefly disappointed that Frodo 
wouldn't be able to play golf with him.

Everyone at Brandy Hall was occupied with funeral preparations. In spite of 
their grief at this unexpected death, there were certain things that must be 
done: in addition to laying out Merimas's body in the back parlor and preparing 
the family vault, the house must be ready to receive the visitors who would pay 
condolence calls, and the guest rooms swept and dusted and fresh sheets put on 
the beds for relatives from other parts of the Shire who would come to stay for 
the funeral. As Frodo went in through the northernmost of Brandy Hall's three 
front doors, the servants were rushing about at the direction of Lady Esmeralda. 
As befit the mournful occasion, the Mistress of the Hall gave her orders in 
hushed tones, and received "Yes, m'lady's" in whispers.

When she saw Frodo, she stopped to kiss his cheek in welcome. "I'm so glad 
you're here, dear. It's a great comfort to know that you're going to help."

"Is Merry in, Auntie? He asked me to come and see him."

"In his study, dear. Go right in--he's expecting you." 

The other ladies, the aunties and his cousins' wives, were also busy, but they 
paused to smile and say hello to Frodo when he met them in the main tunnel on 
the lowest level of the Hall. He caught a glimpse of Celie as he went past the 
drawing room, seated as she'd been the day before, curled in a chair by the 
fire. Today, she wore a black dress and although she wasn't weeping at that 
moment, she clutched a crushed handkerchief in one hand and her face was red and 
puffy and streaked with the tracks of dried tears. Frodo did not disturb her, 
but he knew he would have to eventually. Instead, he went on to the Master's 
study near the middle front door to find Merry and Uncle Merimac searching the 
desk and bookshelves.

"It's the key to the vault," Merry explained. "It seems it's been misplaced 
since Father's funeral. There's also a speech, written down, that the Master is 
meant to give at every family funeral. Uncle Merry was kind enough to give it 
the last time, since I was away..." He shut the desk drawers. "Perhaps you can 
make finding them your next case. I've appointed Frodo Special Investigator, you 
know," Merry informed his uncle. "He's to be in charge of finding Merimas's 
murderer."

"I hope you'll be able to do so, Frodo," his uncle replied. "I never thought 
we'd have to go through another such tragedy again, not after poor Berry."

Uncle Merimac had heartily disapproved of his nephew's wild ways since Merry was 
a boy, and Frodo suspected that he disapproved still. Merimac had also disliked 
Frodo's close friendship with Merry; he'd hoped for his own son Berilac to be 
the confidante of the heir to the Hall, and perhaps gain a subtle influence over 
him, but Merry and Berilac had never got along. Whatever feeling Merimac might 
have about the two of them now, he concealed it and made an effort to aid the 
new Master as he'd always stood by his own brother Saradoc. Since both Saradoc 
and Berilac were dead, it was fruitless for him to carry on old quarrels which 
could only end in his leaving his comfortable situation and the home where he'd 
been born to seek a bungalow in Bucklebury. Merry often spoke with amazement at 
how helpful his uncle had become since he'd come home.

"Come in, Frodo, please," Merry invited him to take a seat. "Tell us what you've 
discovered so far. Did you go out with Hob this morning?"

"Yes, I did," Frodo answered as he sat in one of the comfortably overstuffed 
leather chairs. He felt rather odd reporting to Merry. If it weren't so serious 
a business as murder, he would find it difficult not to smile. But it _was_ 
murder, and these were the roles they had assumed for the investigation. He 
addressed his cousin and lover as he had Thain Paladin and Aragorn when they'd 
set him this same task. "I've seen the place where Merimas was found, and I'm 
convinced that Chief Muggeredge was right: there's no possibility of an 
accident. I saw nothing Merimas might've struck his head upon if he fell, or was 
pushed, or was tumbling about in a struggle. The blow must have been struck 
deliberately. Hob and I looked all around and found no weapon, which suggests to 
me that the murderer tossed it away as far from the body as he could, or carried 
it off with him. I've asked the sherriffs to search further."

"You speak of a struggle," said Uncle Merimac. "Do you think they fought? Did 
poor Merimas meet this person there, or was he followed?"

"I don't know," Frodo admitted. "The grass is so crushed down, it's difficult to 
tell exactly what happened. The farmers who found him and the sherriffs have 
been all over. I've wondered what he was doing there in the first place."

"I think we all have," said Merry. "It's such a strange place for anyone to go 
at night."

Frodo agreed. "If he was killed just after we saw him go past Crickhollow's 
gate, where was he going to? Bucklebury? Newbury? Some farm or cottage along the 
Hedge-path? I'll have to make inquiries to find out. That's what I intend to do 
next." If he could find someone who had seen Merimas that same evening, it would 
tell them where he had gone, and perhaps provide a clue as to how he had come to 
be on the Hedge path. It would also help to fix the time of Merimas's death, 
whether he had been struck down just after dusk or at a later hour that night.

"If you need a shirriff to accompany you and lend an official air to your going 
around and asking people questions, let me know," Merry said and sounded more 
like his usual self; Frodo did smile. "Are you starting off right away, or will 
you stay to lunch?"

"Lunch, if you'll have me. Now, let's see if I can help you find that key."

By using his reasoning and by questioning Uncle Merry as to the circumstances 
when the vault key had last been used, Frodo found it folded within the Master's 
speech and tucked inside the front cover of last summer's estate journal, which 
had been on the desk in the days after Saradoc's death. Once this minor mystery 
was solved, they joined the rest of the family for lunch in the great, circular 
dining room at the heart of the Hall. This was the same party of Brandybucks who 
had gathered for tea yesterday, except for Celie, who was absent, but they were 
a much more somber group today.

Melisaunte ate little, but carried on bravely. "Merimas has been laid out quite 
presentably, if you'd like to view him," she told Frodo. "A cloth cap has been 
put over his head, so you can't see... anything. He looks as if he hadn't been 
hurt at all. Everyone's been so kind, so helpful, in this terrible time. There's 
been so much to do. So many letters must be written to family who wouldn't have 
heard yet--the Tooks, my Melly." 

"I wrote to Fredegar and Flora myself," said Beryl, proud that she had made even 
this small contribution to the proceedings. "I expect they'll come as soon as 
they know what's happened. The house will be quite full."

Frodo had written to Sam--not the letter he'd planned yesterday about a visit to 
Bag End, but to tell his friend about his cousin's murder. He did not, however, 
expect Sam to attend the funeral. 

"The funeral will be held the day after tomorrow," Esme said. "I know you prefer 
to live alone, Frodo, but you're welcome to come and stay at the Hall for the 
next few days. You may find it more convenient, and I know Merry would be so 
pleased to have you near."

"We're going to stay awhile, Isalda and I," said Dodi. "And Celie too, of 
course." 

"She can't go on at the cottage," Estella murmured sympathetically. "Not by 
herself with her little boys. _I_ couldn't bear it in her place." She reached 
for her own husband's hand under the table.

"My poor darling has been simply lost since that shirriff came to tell us the 
awful news," said Hilda. "It's always sad to lose a husband or wife--as we all 
know--" She specifically addressed the elder generation of hobbits with this 
aside; with the exception of Beryl, who had never married, the others were all 
widows or widower, "but it's especially tragic when it happens to one so young. 
She doesn't know what to do."

"Where is she?" asked Frodo.

"She wasn't hungry, as you can imagine, poor child, and didn't want to come to 
sit with us and try to make conversation," Hilda answered. "I think she's gone 
up to the nursery. It's best to leave her if she wants to be alone. When she 
wants our company, she'll come out and find us all waiting."

"We've tried to keep the worst of things from her," said Esmeralda.

"Worst?" Frodo echoed, not understanding what she was alluding to.

"The awful gossip. Merry's told us what the folk in Newbury were saying about 
Celie and Berry last night," Dodi told Frodo.

"What were they saying about my Berry?" Uncle Merimac looked up from his plate, 
alert at the mention of his dead son's name.

"Oh, you know what scandal people talk, Uncle, especially about _us_!" said 
Dodi. 

"They were saying that since Celie used to go around with Berry, and Berry was 
struck over the head and killed, and now Celie's husband has been struck and 
killed in the same way, she must be behind both deaths somehow," Merry 
explained. 

"People can be vile sometimes," said Isalda.

"But that little chit didn't have a thing to do with poor Berry," said Uncle 
Merimac. "It was-" He cast a glance at Melisaunte, who lifted her eyes to meet 
his with a deadly look of warning. "It wasn't Celie, at any rate."

Frodo and Merry and their cousin, Melisaunte's younger daughter Melilot, had 
never told the rest of the family the entire truth behind Berry's death and the 
subsequent suicide of Melly's sister Mentha. Melly had admitted to throwing a 
rock at Berry's head in self defense, which was enough to call his death an 
accident and free Merry from the gaol. Mentha was said to have thrown herself 
into the river out of grief for her dead betrothed. That was the official story. 
Some of the Brandybucks had guessed what had really happened. They were 
determined, however, never to talk about it.

"But you see why we've decided it's best that Celie not hear about it, when she 
has so much else to bear," said Hilda.

!~|vi|~!

After lunch, as Frodo left the Hall to try and trace Merimas's whereabouts the 
evening before his death, he heard a sharp hiss and someone called his name: 
"Frodo! Up here!"

Frodo looked up; Celie was standing on the edge of a small copse of trees on the 
slope of Buck Hill above him. She waved to summon him, and he climbed up to join 
her. There was a bench and small flower garden among the trees, and Celie had 
taken her little boys from the care of the house-maid who'd been promoted to the 
nursery until a proper nursery-maid could be engaged, and brought them out into 
the sunshine to play. The elder boy, Mungo, was a toddler of two and a half. The 
baby, Madoc, was a little over a year old. Both already had thick crops of brown 
curls on their heads, and large brown eyes like both their mother and father. 

"How are you, darling?" Frodo asked once he had reached her.

"As well as I can be," Celie answered dolefully. "Having the babies with me 
helps. Looking after them gives me something to do besides sit and weep, and I 
don't think so much about... Merimas. You haven't found anything yet, have you?" 
she asked Frodo, half-hopeful, half-fearful.

"No," Frodo answered. "I've barely begun. I've been to see the place where- ah- 
it happened, that's all, and I was just going to see if I can find out where he 
went after he left you."

Celie nodded and set the baby down on the grass beside his elder brother; Mungo 
was amusing himself by banging a wooden toy horse against the leg of the bench. 
"I wanted to ask you something else too, Frodo," she said. "There's something 
everybody knows--Mother, my brothers, Merry, and they're keeping it from me. I 
catch them whispering, then they shut right up when they see I'm there. You know 
what it is, don't you?"

"Yes, I know."

"Will you tell me what it is then, Frodo?" she requested. "Nobody else will. But 
it concerns _me_, doesn't it? Don't I have a right to know?"

Frodo nodded. "Yes, I think you do."

Celie might be a grown-up hobbit, married and widowed, the mother of two 
children, but she was the 'baby' of the Brandybuck family and still very young 
and naive, and especially fragile at this tragic time. Frodo understood why the 
Brandybucks felt so protective of her--he couldn't help feeling protective 
himself--but while the rest of the family was anxious to keep Celie from knowing 
about the ugly gossip he and Merry had overheard at the High Hay tavern last 
night, he agreed with Celie; she had a right to know what concerned her. It was 
important that she be warned about what was being said. 

He also had a reason of his own for telling her: if Merimas's death was 
connected at all to Berry's, then he must learn what truth, if any, lay behind 
those rumors. Celie was the only one who could tell him. Frodo recalled hearing 
stories about Celie and Berilac when he'd investigated the latter's death. The 
two had courted to some extent before she had married Merimas, but Frodo had no 
idea how far things had gone between them. 

He sat down on the bench and took both her hands in his. "Celie, I know how 
awful this must be for you," he began as a preamble. "I'll do everything I can 
to see that the person responsible is brought to justice, but I'm sorry to say 
that it's going to be harder for you in the days to come."

"Harder?" Celie echoed. "What could be worse than what's already happened?"

"The investigation of a murder is hard on everyone involved, even the innocent," 
Frodo tried to explain. "I'll have to peer and pry into things that would 
normally be nobody's business, and turn up secrets that people would rather keep 
hidden. Ugly things may come to light. There'll be suspicions. I don't want to 
distress you, Celie, but old gossip will be brought up again, whether or not it 
was ever true."

"What was true? Frodo, I don't know what you're talking about. What does this 
have to do with what everyone's keeping from me?"

"I'm referring to the old stories about you and Berilac."

"_Berry!_" she cried in astonishment. At the sound of his mother's raised voice, 
little Mungo stopped his banging and stared up at her in wonderment. "But that 
was ages ago! Berry's been dead for three years. Are people still talking about 
that?"

"I'm afraid they are."

"And they think..." Celie stopped suddenly, and her still-reddened eyes widened 
as she understood what Frodo was trying to tell her. "They think that has 
something to do with Merimas's death, because of me? Do they think _I_ did it?"

"No one's said so, Celie."

"But they think it! Oh, that _is_ worse!" 

As fresh tears filled her eyes, Frodo felt ashamed of himself; it was too soon 
for Celie to talk about this painful, personal subject. 

!~|vii|~!

When he left the Hall, Frodo went to the stables to collect his pony, which he 
kept here where the Hall grooms could tend it rather than at the smaller stable 
on the Crickhollow grounds. The trip to Newbury by the main road, then to 
Bucklebury by the back way and to the Hall again was approximately a ten-mile 
circuit; a healthy hobbit could walk it easily in an afternoon, but Frodo knew 
he would be doing plenty of walking around both towns as well. While his health 
had improved greatly in this past year, he still tired quickly and he'd already 
spent a strenuous morning.

He rode to Newbury and first visited the High Hay tavern. The ale-keeper was 
certain that Mr. Merimas hadn't been in that night. Gentlehobbits from the Hall 
so rarely came to his establishment--he was certain he would have noticed and 
remembered, and would've said so when Mr. Baggins and Master Merry had come in 
before. Nor could Frodo find anyone else in the town who'd seen his cousin alive 
after he and Merry had.

Frodo next tried Bucklebury, with the same results. Merimas had not been seen. 
Wherever he called, he made clear to everyone he spoke to that he was looking 
for people who'd seen Merimas that last night. Once news of his search spread to 
the manor houses, farms, and cottages beyond the two towns, he hoped that 
someone might step forward with useful information.

Late in the afternoon, he returned to Brandy Hall to tell Merry of his fruitless 
inquiries and to have dinner with his family. The dinner was as subdued as lunch 
had been and, after dinner, the ladies went to the drawing room. 

Merry had carried on his father's and grandfather's custom of gathering the male 
members of the family in the study for a glass or two of wine and a pipe to 
smoke. For the younger hobbits, being included was a sign that they were now 
considered grown-up, even though Ilbie had not yet come of age.

Tonight, however, Uncle Merimac said that he wasn't feeling up to it and retired 
to his room, leaving the young hobbits standing in the front hall outside the 
study door. 

"Poor Uncle Merry. He's been in a black gloom since we heard about Merimas. It 
reminds him of Berry's death," said Dodi sympathetically. "It's all coming back 
again, isn't it, and not only for Uncle? It's just the same as it was then."

"Not just the same, if I have anything to say about it," Merry answered, and 
Dodi took him by the arm.

"Let's not be stodgy old grown-ups tonight, Merry," he said. "Let's be young 
lads again and go out for a drop of ale. Come out with us too, Frodo."

!~|*|~!
 
They went to the Buckle's Notch, the only pub in Bucklebury. Frodo had been 
there when he'd made his inquiries during the hours after luncheon when the 
place was not busy. The Notch was quite crowded and noisy now that it was 
evening. The Brandybuck youths from the Hall were well-known to the proprietor 
and other patrons, and welcomed with shouts of friendly greeting and condolences 
as they came in. Ilbie went to the bar to fetch the first round of ales while 
Merry, Dodi, and Frodo found an empty table near the back of the room.

"I'll wager they've been talking of nothing else all day," said Dodi as he 
looked at the familiar faces around him. "Merimas, I mean, and how Frodo's 
investigating his murder. And poor Celie too. It's hard enough for her to lose 
her husband, without all that old business with Berry being dug up again." 

"You told her, didn't you, Frodo?" asked Merry.

"She asked me for the truth, and I thought she ought to know."

"Perhaps it's best she does," agreed Dodi. "Forewarned is forearmed, as they 
say. We all want to protect her, of course, but she _is_ in the middle of this. 
It was her husband who was killed. Even though she had nothing to do with it, 
that won't stop people from saying the most awful things." He lowered his voice 
to a mumble that Merry and Frodo could hardly hear. "We aren't the only ones who 
know about their quarrels, you know. The sooner this matter is settled, the 
better it will be for her in more ways than one, and for the rest of us too."

"I hope you'll be able to help me with that," Frodo replied. "You and Ilbie 
won't mind if I ask you some questions, will you? You're much more familiar with 
Merimas's and Celie's married life than I am."

"No, I don't mind," said Dodi. "We knew you'd ask. Celie married too young, that 
was the trouble."

"But didn't we all?" responded his younger brother as he joined them, carefully 
setting the four filled mugs down on the table. "Somebody's got to provide an 
heir to the Hall for Merry, since _he_ won't do it himself. It's up to us. 
You've fallen behind in your duties, Dodi. You're the eldest, but Celie's 
already got two little heirs and unless you and Isalda are keeping a secret, 
`Stella and I will have our baby before you do. Merry can have his pick for the 
next Master!"

"Hush your nonsense, Ilb. Frodo's asked about Celie, and I'm trying to tell 
him." Dodi resumed the topic at hand. "Now, as I was saying, she married too 
young. She should've been allowed to have her fun first, before she settled down 
to being respectable. She didn't have her proper chance. A girl Celie's age 
likes parties and dances and games. That's only natural. But Merimas didn't 
approve. You know about our parties at Ivysmial, Frodo? You never come, but 
you're always welcome to join in." 

"Well, I've _heard_ them often enough," Frodo answered.

"I'm surprised _you_ don't come, Merry," said Ilbie. "You always used to enjoy a 
party."

"I still do," Merry answered. "I wish could join in, but it doesn't do for the 
Master of the Hall to have that kind of fun. I have to behave myself. I promised 
Mother."

"Is that why Frodo isn't living at the Hall?" Ilbie asked with a laugh.

"Ilb!"

"Did you think we didn't know? I'm sure everybody's guessed by now, even _our_ 
Mother. We've wondered about you for quite some time, Frodo. You never played 
about, not even with Merry like the rest of us, but there was that friend of 
yours you used to be so attached to. We used to talk about it, didn't we, Dodi? 
Fatty even asked Merry once."

"And what did Merry tell him?" Frodo asked, looking at Merry.

"He said that whatever Frodo got up to wasn't Fatty's business, unless Frodo 
wanted to tell him himself," Merry answered.

"Which of course only confirmed his suspicions," said Ilbie. "Fatty's no fool."

"Never mind that--I'm trying to tell them about Celie!" said his brother. "We 
had a party last week out in the rose garden, since it was a nice day. There was 
the usual music and singing, and Celie got up to dance on the table. Somebody 
always does."

"It seems to run in the family," Frodo said. "Merry's famous for getting tipsy 
and dancing on table-tops in Minas Tirith." 

"But Merimas behaved as if she'd done something disgraceful-"

"As if she'd left off her pantalets!" Ilbie interjected.

"He pulled her right down and tried to drag her home," continued Dodi. "I put a 
stop to _that_. I won't see him treat her that way. She may be his wife, but 
she's _my_ sister and has a perfect right to have fun at a party I invited her 
to. I told him I'd punch his nose for him if he didn't let her go. He let go, 
but Celie went home not long after _he_ did. He probably scolded her for days 
afterwards. Wretched brute! I'm sorry he died the way he did, but the truth is 
that she's better off free of him--though of course I couldn't say that to her 
now."

"Careful, Dodi!" Ilbie cautioned him. "You'll have Frodo thinking you're the one 
who broke Merimas's head. He's suspected us of defending Celie's honor once 
before, remember, when Berry was killed."

"You must admit, your activities on the day Berry died looked extremely 
suspicious before you gave me the true explanation," Frodo told his cousins.

"And proved we had nothing to do with it," Ilbie finished triumphantly. "Frodo, 
honestly! As dearly as we love our little sister, we didn't kill her husband for 
her."

"You're not high on my list of suspects," Frodo assured them, but he noted that, 
for all their silly, scatter-brained chatter, the three siblings had a staunch 
loyalty and devotion to each other even within the closely knit Brandybuck 
family circle. "All the same, I don't suppose you'll tell me where you both were 
that night when Celie and Merimas had their last quarrel."

"Isalda and I were home at Ivysmial, as a matter of fact," said Dodi. "Yes, we 
did hear their quarrel. We heard the shouting, at least. I couldn't tell you 
what precisely they were shouting about."

"And were you at the Hall, Ilbie?" asked Frodo.

"No, I was at Ivysmial too. `Stella and I were meant to have dinner with Dodi 
and Isalda, but `Stel wasn't feeling up to it, so I went to make our apologies 
and wound up staying for a bit as long as I was there."

"When did you leave?"

"It was just getting dark when I went home. Things were quiet by then. I didn't 
see Merimas, but Celie was in the lane by her cottage, just ahead of me. When I 
caught up with her at her front gate, I asked if she was all right, and she said 
she was. I would've stopped to talk with her if she'd wanted me to, but she said 
she would rather be alone--I suppose after all that yelling, she was glad of a 
little quiet. She went inside, and I walked home. I didn't run up the lane the 
other way to find Merimas and hit him in the head. There wasn't time. Mother and 
`Stella will tell you I was home before seven. Happy, Frodo?"

"Yes, thank you. I didn't like to ask Celie, but can you tell me something about 
her old boy-friends? It all happened while Merry and I were away the first time, 
so I've only heard some of the gossip. There were others besides Berry, weren't 
there?"

"There were some boys she went around with," Dodi answered with a note of 
reluctance, "but it was just a bit of fun. No harm in it. We saw to that, and 
we'd have given them a good thump if wasn't so." 

"Are these any one of these lads among your friends?" asked Frodo. "If they are, 
I'd like to meet them."

"We won't be having any parties for awhile, not while this murder is hanging 
over us and poor Celie's in mourning, but if you want to meet some of our 
friends, Isalda and I will ask them to Ivysmial after the funeral," Dodi 
offered. "You can come and be introduced."

"You know some of them already," added Ilbie, and turned to a pair of dark-
haired young hobbits with a strong family resemblance who had come in while they 
were talking and taken a seat at another table nearby. He raised his voice to be 
heard over the level of chatter around the room. "Marly! El! Join us, won't 
you?" 

At this invitation, the two hobbits rose and came over. "You looked like you 
were in the middle of an important conference," said the smaller and pudgier of 
the pair; he was about the same age as Dodi and Ilbie and, like them, had a 
round, cheerful face and snub nose. "Everyone looked so serious. We didn't dare 
to interrupt."

"But we were surprised to see you lads here tonight, after this awful business 
with Merimas," said the other one, who was taller, and a year or two older. 
"Hullo, Merry old fellow. We don't see much of you anymore. And Frodo--nobody 
sees you at all!"

They were Marleduc and Eliduc Brandybuck. Frodo had known them from childhood, 
though he'd seen little of them since his return from Gondor. They were distant 
cousins; in the last century, when Orgulas Brandybuck had quarreled with his 
elder brother, Master Gorbadoc, he'd left Brandy Hall to tunnel out a smaller 
but comfortable smial a half a mile away on the far side of Buck Hill, and 
founded the village of Bucklebury. While the quarrel had been made up between 
the two branches of the family long ago, Orgulas's descendants lived in 
Bucklebury still. Only a few, like Mellisaunte's late husband, Marmadas, had 
returned to live at the Hall. 

The two boys were Merimas's first cousins, and part of that circle of boisterous 
friends that Celie and her brothers liked to have fun with. Had one or other--or 
both?--courted Celie before her marriage? If Frodo correctly interpreted Ilbie's 
remark before inviting them over, at least one had.

"We must come to the Hall and express our condolences to Celie and Aunt 
Melisaunte," said Marleduc, the elder brother, as he took a seat. "How is the 
poor dear bearing up?"

"Which one--Ceel or Auntie?" Ilbie teased. "Celie's terribly upset, as you might 
imagine, but I'm sure she'd be pleased if you and Eli came to call. Aunt 
Melisaunte's bearing it wonderfully, considering. She's never broken down with 
weeping, but thrown herself into managing the funeral arrangements."

"Actually, we were just discussing what to do after the funeral," said Dodi. "I 
was thinking of having a sort of reception, with refreshments, of course, at 
Ivysmial for some of Celie's close friends. It'll be much more pleasant than 
cramming ourselves into the Hall drawing room with the older folk. You'll both 
come, won't you?"

Both Marleduc and Eliduc assured him they would be glad to, and the conversation 
soon turned to other subjects. When Dodi got up to refill their mugs, he stopped 
at a few other tables in the room to extend the same invitation to the young 
hobbits sitting there.

Later that evening, Frodo parted with his cousins outside the pub. The others 
would return to the Hall, while he would take a footpath that crossed the fields 
between Bucklebury and the lane to Crickhollow. As they were saying their 
goodnights, Dodi told him, "It's all been arranged, Frodo. Come to Ivysmial 
after the funeral, and you can talk with Celie's friends all you like. You'll 
want to chat with Marly in particular. He wanted to marry her, you know."

No, Frodo hadn't known.

!~|viii|~!

Frodo went to the Newbury guardhouse the next morning to tell Chief Muggeredge 
about the inquiries he'd made yesterday and to ask if the deputized sherriffs 
had found anything. 

"My lads were up and down by the Hedge for more'n a mile either way, Mr. 
Baggins, and here's what we found." With a broad grin on his already broad face, 
Muggeredge picked up a burlap sack that was lying on the floor and dumped its 
contents onto the same table where Merimas had lain, displaying a collection of 
rocks for Frodo to look over. The smallest was the size of a hen's egg, and the 
largest the size of a hobbit's head. "Not one has a drop o' blood on it, but we 
picked up every one that might've done it."

Frodo turned each of the rocks over to examine them on all sides. True, there 
were no stains beyond a little caked and dried mud, but that didn't necessarily 
mean that the weapon used to kill Merimas wasn't here. It could be any of these 
rocks, or none. He remembered a piece of wizard-lore Gandalf had once told him: 
no two patterns of whorls and ridges on the tips of people's fingers were the 
same. Such marks were clearly visible on smooth, clean glass, but Frodo doubted 
there was a way to find them on rough stone. If there was, how would he compare 
them with the fingermarks of an unknown person?

He thanked the Chief Sherriff for his efforts and asked that the rocks be kept 
for the time being, then returned to Crickhollow in frustration. Tomorrow 
afternoon, he would meet some of his principal suspects, but what was he to do 
until then? 

As he went down the lane toward the Hall, wondering what he was going to tell 
Merry and the rest of the Brandybuck family, he saw that a pony-cart stood 
before the gate of Celie's cottage. Bags and boxes were piled in the back. The 
front door of the cottage was open, and a young-lady hobbit emerged, dragging a 
large carpet-bag. She wasn't Celie nor any of his other female relatives, but a 
striking-looking woman with long, dark-red curls. Frodo had seen her a few times 
before, although he didn't know her name.

"Hello," he said when they met at the cart. "Is Celie here? I'm her cousin, 
Frodo."

"She's packing the children's things," the young lady answered, and flung the 
bag up into the cart before Frodo could offer to help. "Come inside."

They went into the cottage, where there were boxes and bags piled in the front 
hall, indicating that Celie was packing up more than a few things. The young 
lady led Frodo into the small bedroom at the back, where Celie was putting baby 
clothes and clean diapers into another carpet-bag. Her face was pale and her 
eyelids pinkish and puffy with too many tears, but she looked more composed than 
she'd been when Frodo had seen her last. 

When she saw him, she even smiled. "Oh, Frodo, hello."

"You're going back to the Hall?" he asked, although it was obvious.

"Yes, I've decided to shut the cottage up. I don't know how long we'll be away. 
Since Merimas-" she paused and swallowed hard; her large, dark-brown eyes swam 
with tears. "I don't know yet if I want to live here without him." Her voice 
rose in pitch at this last sentence and Frodo thought that she was about to cry, 
but she pulled herself together with an effort. "Everybody said I should wait 
and do this after... the funeral, and they wanted to come and help me pack, but 
I wanted to do it by myself. And then Rilla came by to say how sorry she was- 
Oh, have you met each other before? Frodo, this is my dear friend, Miss Amarilla 
Underhaye. She used to be Mentha's friend too. Rilla, this is my cousin, Frodo 
Baggins. You've heard about him. He lives in the cottage at the very end of the 
lane."

Rilla? Frodo recalled that this was the name Merimas had shouted at his wife 
during their last quarrel, the one he thought Celie was spending too much time 
with. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Underhaye," he said politely. "I wish 
it were under happier circumstances."

"I'm pleased to meet you at last, Mr. Baggins," the red-haired young lady 
replied. "I _have_ heard a lot about you. Everyone in Bucklebury's been talking 
since you've come to live in Buckland. I've been hoping to meet you for some 
time, but you're such a recluse. They say you're writing a book." When Frodo 
admitted that this was so, she asked, "Is it about the mysteries you've solved?"

"No, actually, it's about my travels and adventures in the Big world beyond the 
Shire," Frodo replied, referring obliquely to his quest, as he always did when 
he spoke of it to other hobbits, "but I have written about one or two of my 
investigations--historical mysteries, you might call them. About the Elves and 
Men of Gondor long ago."

"Elves?" Amarilla's expression brightened with increased interest. "How 
intriguing. Do you read Elvish?"

"A little," Frodo said modestly. "I'm not the scholar my Uncle Bilbo was." 

"Frodo's very clever. He's going to find out who killed Merimas," Celie said 
confidently, as if finding a murderer were a simple task. She shut the carpet-
bag and buckled the two straps that held it shut. "Rilla, will you please take 
this out to the cart for me? There are only a few more things I want to take 
right now. I'll come back for the rest." 

Amarilla nodded in understanding and carried the carpet-bag outside, leaving 
Frodo and Celie to talk together privately.

"Celie, I wanted to say I'm sorry," Frodo told her once they were alone. "When 
we spoke yesterday, I told you something that upset you. The rest of the family 
didn't want you to know about the ugly gossip that's begun again since Merimas 
died, and perhaps I was wrong to tell you, at least so soon. You weren't ready 
to hear such things."

"No, I had to know what people were saying, about me and Berry. You want to know 
if what they're saying was true, don't you?" Celie asked. 

"It's not my business, unless it has something to do with Merimas," Frodo 
answered. "Does it?" 

"It might." Celie sat up rather primly, back straight and hands folded in the 
black folds of her skirt in her lap as she looked up at him. "I've thought it 
over, Frodo, and I'm going to tell you. There wasn't anything wrong between me 
and Berry, not really. When I began to grow up, he started to pay attention to 
me, and I liked it. We went boating on the river sometimes--you know about that. 
We played about, a little, but we didn't go as far as _that_. I wasn't as 
naughty as Mama was afraid I was. But Merimas... he didn't believe it was true 
when I told him. He never forgot about it, even after Berry was dead, not just 
because of what happened with Mentha and Melly. Before that." Her voice was very 
low, barely above a whisper. "He didn't think Mungo was his." 

"Oh, Celie..." Frodo did some quick calculations: Mungo had been born in October 
of 1420, almost a full year after Celie had married Merimas; it was impossible 
for her to have been pregnant at the time of her wedding. However, Berilac had 
died in April, only six months before Mungo's birth. What Merimas had accused 
his wife of was not merely carrying on with their mutual cousin before their 
marriage, but afterwards as well. Frodo knew, as everyone did, that Merimas had 
always reproached Celie for her conduct, but he'd never imagined that it was as 
terrible as that. 

"I've never told anybody about it before," Celie said in the same soft voice. 
"It's too shameful. I couldn't tell Mama--it would shock her so, and my brothers 
would never forgive Merimas if they knew what he was saying. And if anybody else 
heard it, they might wonder if it was true."

"Is that what your last quarrel was about?" Frodo had only heard a few fragments 
regarding Celie's choice of friends, but if Merimas had been shouting at her for 
several hours, there must have been more.

"It was always the same quarrel," said Celie. "If it wasn't about Berry, it was 
somebody else. Merimas didn't think it was proper for a respectable married lady 
to have gentlemen-friends, but he didn't approve of my girl-friends either. 
Rilla," she waved toward the door to indicate the young lady who had just gone 
out. "He said she wasn't suitable for me to associate with. He thought she was 
fast and a bad influence because she's forty years old, but doesn't want a 
husband, and she lives by herself in Bucklebury even though she has relations 
she could live with. But she's wonderful and clever and artistic, like Mentha 
was." In her indignation and eagerness to defend herself and her friends, Celie 
was beginning to forget her grief. "You'll see that for yourself when you know 
her better, Frodo. All our friends will be at Dodi's tomorrow, and I'll see that 
Rilla comes too. You know about the reception Dodi's having after the funeral, 
don't you? You'll come?" she asked. Then, with a sudden flash of comprehension 
and suspicion, "Did you ask him to do that, Frodo?"

"I told him and Ilbie that I wanted to meet some of your friends," Frodo 
answered carefully. "Dodi agreed to arrange it." 

"You think one of them had something to do with Merimas dying?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "but I have to find out. It's what I've been asked 
to do. I told you--an investigation is like that."

"Yes, you said, but that's nonsense, Frodo. They're my _friends_," Celie 
insisted, as if this were proof enough of their innocence. "They thought Merimas 
was an awful old stick who never liked to have fun. They used to laugh at him, 
but nobody'd want to hurt him. You'll meet them and see how wrong you are."

"What about your old suitors?" asked Frodo. "Could one them have resented your 
marriage to him?"

Celie turned pink at the question. "Most of the boys I used to go around with 
are married to other girls now." 

"Marledoc isn't."

To his surprise, Celie laughed. "Oh, Frodo! Now you _are_ being ridiculous! 
Marly's like you and Merry. Ask Merry if you don't believe me."

This was a direct contradiction to what Dodi had told him, and Frodo didn't know 
Marledoc well enough to know which was true. After Ilbie's joke about him and 
Merry at the pub last night, he wasn't even startled to hear that Celie knew 
about them as well. As he had guessed, their relationship was no secret within 
the family.

Frodo carried a couple of the boxes left at the door out for her, and put them 
into the cart. Celie took down the last thing she wanted, the oval wedding 
portrait of herself and Merimas, which Mentha had painted and which hung over 
the parlor fireplace. It was small enough to carry in her arms, and Celie did 
so, holding it carefully before her, the painted side to her chest. Amarilla was 
waiting outside.

"Are you coming to the Hall with us?" Celie asked her friend.

"Not today, thank you. I've paid you my call, and that's all I meant to do. I 
was glad to find you here and alone, rather than at the Hall."

"Will you come to Dodi's tomorrow, afterwards?"

"Yes, of course," said Amarilla. "Dodi's invited me. I'll see you there." 

Frodo helped his cousin up onto the seat at the front of the cart, then climbed 
up beside her and took the pony's reigns. As they rode to the Hall, Amarilla 
remained in the lane before the cottage gate, watching them go, then turned to 
cross the fields toward Bucklebury. 

!~|ix|~!

After leaving Celie in front of Brandy Hall and arranging with Bramblebanks, the 
Hall porter, to have her belongings carried in, Frodo took the pony and cart to 
the stable. As he came out, he met Merry, who was returning from the Brandybuck 
family vault, which lay on the northern edge of the property some distance from 
the house. 

Merry waved to draw Frodo's attention as he came toward him across the lawn, and 
they walked together on the path along the river under the willow trees that 
grew on the bank. "The vault is unlocked and I've seen for myself that there's a 
shelf cleared to lay Merimas down upon tomorrow," said Merry. "The trestle for 
his bier is set before the door. I hope it won't rain. A funeral's sad enough--
making everybody stand out in the rain for it only makes it more miserable for 
them. Find out anything today, Frodo?"

"The sherriffs have gathered an impressive number of rocks from near the Hedge 
where Merimas was found," Frodo reported, "and I've had an interesting 
conversation with Celie." He would not tell even Merry everything Celie had told 
him--he considered Merimas's accusations regarding her and Berry to be 
completely confidential--but there was one particular point which Merry might 
help to clear up, as Celie herself had suggested. 

When he asked about Marleduc, Merry laughed and said, "If she meant that I once 
played about with him, yes, I did. But that doesn't prove anything. I don't know 
how Marly feels about Celie, but there's no reason why he couldn't be in love 
with her or some other girl because we once had a bit of fun together. There's 
hardly a boy-cousin in Buckland between the ages of thirty and forty I couldn't 
say the same of. Nearly every one of those lads has since fallen in love with 
some nice girl or other and married her. Why should Marly be different? It's 
something everybody outgrows, except for you and me." He put an arm around Frodo 
as they walked.

"And Pippin?"

Merry didn't respond to this, but asked, "Did I ever tell you who the first one 
was, Frodo? It'll surprise you."

"No, you didn't say." Frodo knew this was a diversion, but he was willing to 
play along. "You once told me you were five-and-twenty. Therefore, it can't have 
been Pippin, nor Dodi or Ilbie. They were still children at that time, and 
anyway they wouldn't surprise me. Fatty?" he guessed. "Ferdi Took? Ev, or Reg? 
Not Merimas. It wasn't a _girl_, was it?"

Merry shook his head and laughed. "You'll never guess, so I'll tell you. It was 
Berry."

"Berry!" Frodo yelped, as astonished as Merry had predicted. "But you could 
never stand each other! And Berilac always liked girls--he was too keen on them, 
actually." Before his death, Berilac had gained a reputation among the maid-
servants at Brandy Hall as being a gentlehobbit to beware of, and in addition to 
being involved scandalously with Celie, he had betrothed himself to Mentha and 
then tried to accost her sister Melilot. "I must say, he seems to have got 
around more than I ever imagined when he was alive."

"He overcame his natural inclinations for once," Merry answered. "He probably 
thought it was what his father would want. Uncle Merry was always pushing him to 
get into my good graces, you remember--to come between you and me in any way he 
could. So when I invited him to go off into the bushes by the boathouse with me, 
he went. I suppose he thought he might as well try _this_ way, only it didn't 
work any better for him than anything else."

Frodo had to laugh. "Merry, you're truly awful! The naughtiest hobbit I know. 
Does Uncle Merry know about this?"

"He's never said a word, but it wouldn't surprise me if Berry darted right off 
and told him. Uncle Merry started telling Father about how wild I was around 
that same time, but he might've heard how I was carrying on with other boys just 
as easily. I didn't wait to find a second boy, or a third or forth, once I found 
out how much fun it could be."

They could hear a distant clip-clop of hooves approaching, and as they emerged 
from the shelter of the willows before Brandy Hall, they saw a small pony-trap 
bearing two hobbits coming up the road from Bucklebury Ferry. 

"More guests," said Merry. "Others have come already. Fatty and Flora are here. 
This will probably be some of the Tooks-" He stopped suddenly and an odd look 
came over his face. 

Frodo stared at his cousin and lay a hand on his arm, then turned to look again 
at the pony-trap, which had drawn closer--and he understood. The new arrivals 
were Melly and Pippin. 

"You knew he was home," Frodo said softly.

"Yes, but I didn't know he was coming _here_." As the trap drew up in front of 
the Hall, they walked out swiftly to meet it.

The pony stopped before the middle front door. Pippin climbed down first and 
handed Melly out of the trap. While she came forward to give Merry and Frodo 
each a fierce hug, Pippin hung shyly back.

"I've come for my brother's funeral," Melly announced, "but I expect to stay on 
for awhile. I want to be with my family... while I still have one. There seem to 
be fewer Brandybucks every year." She turned back to Pippin. "Pip, will you give 
me little Addy? I want to introduce him to his uncles."

Pippin nodded and carefully lifted up the long-handled basket that had been 
wedged onto the seat between them; from it, Melly lifted out her baby, who was 
six months old. "This is Aderic," she said as she presented him. "You haven't 
been to Tuckborough to see him yet, but I've been looking so forward to your 
meeting him. Would you like to hold him?"

Frodo was always nervous with new babies, but he had held enough infants before-
-his niece Willa, Celie's little boys, Elanor Gamgee--that he didn't protest 
when Melly placed her baby in his arms. "He looks more like you than Evvy," he 
told her, "except for the eyes."

Melly smiled. "They're blue. Everybody says they'll change and get darker as he 
gets older, but I hope they won't. Otherwise, I'd say he takes more after the 
Brandybuck side than the Tooks." When little Addy began to fuss, Frodo returned 
the baby to its mother. "After I take him up to the nursery, I'm going to find 
my mother," Melly said as she put Addy back into the basket. "Do you know where 
she is?"

"Aunt Melisaunte was in the drawing room with Mother, Estella, and the aunties 
when I went out," Merry told her. "I expect they're still there."

"Celie will probably be with them," Frodo added. "I brought her back from the 
cottage with her belongings."

"Poor girl," murmured Melly. "You must be looking into this, Frodo. You don't 
think Celie is involved, do you?" 

"No, I don't believe she is," Frodo answered. That was the most he could say 
honestly; Merimas had probably been killed for Celie's sake, but whether or not 
she knew who had done it remained to be seen.

Melly did not catch this careful nuance. "Well, thank goodness for _that_!" she 
said. "I hate it when you go around suspecting all your relations."

"It's not Frodo's most endearing trait," Pippin agreed. "We're lucky we were 
fifty miles away when this murder happened."

After Melly had gone into the Hall, bearing the baby in its basket, the three 
others remained, all feeling a little awkward and tense. Frodo and Merry hadn't 
seen Pippin or had a word from him since he'd left them to join the circus at 
Bree, and their parting on that day had been a painful one.

"We didn't expect you to come back to the Shire so soon, Pip," Merry said with 
an ease he obviously didn't feel. "What happened?"

"I got as far as Edoras," Pippin answered. "The Riders found us when we went 
through the gap, and took us to King Eomer. I introduced the troupe, and they 
had a command performance right there. Everybody loved the white pony's tricks, 
just as I knew they would. We stayed there for awhile, and then Eomer had his 
Men escort the troupe down the road toward Gondor. I didn't want to go back to 
Minas Tirith with them, so I turned around and came home."

"Wasn't it any fun?" asked Frodo.

"Oh, no, it was great fun. Mr. Grimmold taught Pimmy and me all sorts of 
wonderful tricks--wait `til you see--and said I had a bright future as a 
conjurer if I wanted to take it up professionally. It was nice being among 
people who thought I could do something well." Pippin ducked his head and 
admitted, "But the truth is, I was homesick. I'd been so long away already and I 
missed you, both of you." He looked from Frodo to Merry. "I wanted to come 
back."

"We missed you too," said Frodo, and gave him a hug. 

Merry was more reserved, but he admitted, "It's good to have you home, Pip." 

!~|*|~!

The Brandybucks were delighted to welcome Melly and to see her baby, but 
somewhat surprised that Pippin had accompanied her, since many of them hadn't 
heard of his return to Tuckborough. Even those who did know were uncertain what 
to make of his unexpected arrival at Brandy Hall. Were he and Merry intending to 
resume their scandalous relationship? Over dinner, the aunties and Uncle Merimac 
watched the pair, glancing from one boy to the other for an answer to this 
crucial question. 

"I'm terribly sorry about Merimas dying, but I'm here mainly to help Frodo out 
find out who killed him," Pippin explained his presence between mouthfuls of 
roast and potatoes. "I've always been there to helped him solve murders before 
and I didn't want to miss out on this one, since it's in the family."

"Why don't you come and stay with me at Crickhollow?" offered Frodo. "There 
isn't another bed, but the sofa in the sitting room is quite comfortable."

"Nonsense," said Merry. "Pippin will stay here. We've plenty of beds, and all 
the guest rooms are prepared. Bramblebanks can give you one of them, Pip. The 
room that used to be Berry's is empty, isn't it? 

This created greater confusion: there were other, empty rooms nearer to the 
Master suite if Merry meant to have Pippin close by. Was he deliberately trying 
to keep his distance, or was this merely an attempt at discretion? 

Pippin wasn't confused by Merry's intentions. Nevertheless, he replied 
cheerfully, "Oh, I'll sleep wherever you like. Any old bed will do for me," then 
he helped himself to more potatoes.

Some Brandybucks correctly divined the true situation between the pair, while 
others remained puzzled. Lady Esmeralda understood. "Poor Pippin," she murmured 
to Frodo as they exited the dining room. "He cares for Merry as much as he ever 
did, but Merry's made it plain he doesn't wish to carry as they used to. Pippin 
has my sympathies, but I believe it's for the best. They couldn't go on with 
their wild old ways now that Merry is Master. And there's _you_ now, too. I'd 
hate to see you hurt, dear Frodo." As she paused outside the drawing room door, 
Esmeralda looked puzzled; the young lads had not gone into the study, but were 
headed up the main tunnel in the opposite direction. More curious still, their 
wives, plus Melly and Celie were accompanying them. "Aren't you joining us?"

"Not yet, Aunt Esme," answered Frodo. "We're going to have a council first."

!~|x|~!

As usual, Frodo deputized whoever among his relatives was willing to aid him in 
his investigations. Since all the young hobbits at the Hall had expressed an 
interest in finding Merimas's killer, they held a conference after dinner to 
form their plans.

They couldn't meet in the best drawing-room, where the older ladies of the Hall 
were sitting, nor in the back parlor, where Merimas was laid out for the funeral 
tomorrow, nor in the Master's study; Uncle Merry was sitting there, alone with 
his pipe and a glass of wine, and the room was too small to accommodate so many. 
The bedrooms were likewise too small for such a gathering. So they went up to 
the nursery, where Melly could sit with little Addy asleep in her lap while they 
talked and Celie could keep an eye on her children.

The nursery wasn't a single room, but a maze of cubbies and nooks at the very 
top of Brandy Hall, beneath the crown of the hill. Frodo had spent the first 
twelve years of his life here with his Brandybuck cousins. Little had changed 
since those days, for the nursery had been shut up after the last of the 
children had left, and it was only partially opened now that the young hobbits 
were old enough to have children of their own. As they sat down in one of the 
larger playrooms on child-sized chairs that made Frodo wonder if this was how 
Big Folk felt using hobbit furniture, old memories crowded in upon him: Celie 
howling in her crib, Dodi and Ilbie as toddlers very like their little nephews, 
Mentha and Melly playing with their dolls, Berry spying on him and Merry to 
carry tales to their parents, Merimas scolding them for some long-forgotten 
mischief. He remembered how he had sobbed through the nights after his mother 
and father had drowned, and Merry had crept into his bed to sleep beside him.

He explained to these same cousins--those who were still alive--plus Pippin, 
Fatty, Estella, Flora and Isalda what he hoped to accomplish after the funeral 
tomorrow. "I don't know if any of the people Dodi's gathered are involved in 
Merimas's death, but one of them may be. That's where all of you can help. Most 
of you know them better than I do. Get them to talk. You don't have to ask 
leading questions. I expect they'll all be eager to talk about Merimas, and 
about you, Celie, and you only have to encourage them to speak their minds and 
listen to what they have to say. Perhaps something interesting will come to 
light." 

"And if it does?" asked Ilbie.

"Then you'll tell me about it. Don't come running and shouting in the middle of 
the reception, for goodness sake, but make note of anything curious. We'll sit 
down tomorrow evening after everyone else goes home and talk over what we've 
found."

"I'm not certain I like this," said Isalda, and shook her head. "I didn't when 
Dodi first told me about it. Of course, I want whoever killed Merimas to be 
found, but it doesn't seem right to trick our friends to saying unguarded things 
in hopes of trapping someone. It feels like spying. It's horrible, looking at 
people we know and wondering if one of them could have done such a thing. 
Knowing that we're suspected ourselves."

"No one could suspect _you_, Issy," Pippin teased.

"No, but Frodo's had ideas about my husband and Ilbie." She turned to Frodo. 
"You asked them their whereabouts when you went out to Bucklebury together last 
night, didn't you?" 

"I did, but that's the sort of thing that has to be asked of everyone," Frodo 
explained. "It's a routine part of any investigation, to pry into coming and 
goings and private affairs that wouldn't normally be any of my business."

"You said so before," said Celie, "but I thought you were talking about my old 
boy-friends. I didn't know you meant my brothers too!"

"It's what Frodo's been engaged to do, by _me_," Merry supported him. "It's his 
job to suspect everybody. You can't say he isn't fair about it."

"Besides," joked Ilbie, "what sort of investigation would it be if Frodo didn't 
suspect me and Dodi at some point? We don't mind it, and you shouldn't either." 

"You needn't be frightened for Dodi's sake," Frodo told Isalda. "He and Ilbie 
both accounted for their whereabouts that evening. They were having dinner with 
you at Ivysmial. You can swear to that, can't you?"

She brightened. "Yes, I can, and I will. They were with me every minute until 
Ilbie went home." 

"Except for when we went out to sit in the garden for a pipe after dinner," said 
Ilbie. "You forgot about that."

Isalda whirled to stare at him, mouth open and cheeks pink at the implications 
of this cheerful contradiction. "They were only outdoors for a few minutes, 
Frodo, not above ten or fifteen while I was clearing the table and washing up," 
she quickly amended her previous statement. "That's not enough to matter."

"We never went out of the garden," added Dodi.

"I believe you," Frodo told them, "but I want you all to understand what we're 
doing. This isn't a game. Isalda is quite right: it isn't nice to suspect 
people, especially when they're friends or relatives, but it is necessary when 
you're investigating a murder. You can't discount someone because you're fond of 
them. I learned that lesson in my first investigation, when I looked into 
Berry's death. I couldn't allow myself to say 'Dodi wouldn't ever do this, or 
Melly wouldn't do that,' even if I believed it in my heart. I must find proof 
that it's so."

Dodi and Melly looked surprised and curious at hearing their names mentioned. 
Fatty also looked intrigued. "Who said that, Frodo, about Dodi and Melly?" he 
asked. "You were quoting someone."

"It was Sam, wasn't it?" asked Merry.

"As a matter of fact, it was," Frodo answered. "It was just after I'd found out 
who that piece of broken jewelry that no one would tell me about belonged to. He 
said I ought to consider you too, Merry. It upset me very much at the time." So 
much so that he had had a bad turn and woke up the household with his screams 
that night; they all remembered _that_. "But he was right. You have to consider 
every possibility, like it or not, and examine them before you can discard them. 
It's the only way to find the truth. If you aren't able to do that, you needn't 
help. I'll understand. But I ask that you don't give us away tomorrow, say 
anything that will put the people we're speaking to on guard, or lie to protect 
someone. You may mean well, but it will only confuse matters and make things 
look worse than they are for the very person you're trying to shield. If they 
are innocent, they won't be harmed by questions, and if they aren't..."

Isalda nodded solemnly.

In one of the nearby cubbies, one of the children began to cry for "Mama!" and 
Celie left the playroom to go to him.

"I can't do as much as I used to in the old days," said Merry. "When Pippin and 
I would go around questioning everybody, riding halfway across the Shire and 
sleeping in the woods because you asked us to. Remember, Pip?" He grinned at his 
cousin, and received a beaming smile in return. "I'll have to put in an 
appearance at the Hall tomorrow as host and be there to greet the guests after 
the funeral, but I'll come to Dodi's as soon as I can, Frodo. You'll have plenty 
of other people to poke about and find out secrets for you before I get there."

"It's what I came here to do," Pippin agreed.

"So did I," said Melly. "I'll ask whatever questions you like, Frodo. I mean to 
find my brother's murderer. I know he wasn't well-liked. He wasn't kind to 
Celie, and I can't forgive him that, but he _was_ my brother and he's dead and I 
can't allow that to pass. He always did what he thought proper for a 
gentlehobbit and a Brandybuck, and he looked out for Mentha and me in his own, 
old-fashioned way."

"I'll help too," Estella said softly. "We've helped before, haven't we, Fatty?" 
she asked her brother. "When poor Cammie Stillwaters went missing. Only, this 
time it's Celie I want to help. She's been my friend since we were little girls. 
I won't lie, Frodo, but I won't do anything to hurt her."

"Nor will I," said Melly. "She's had to endure enough without more suspicions." 

"I don't want to hurt Celie either," Frodo assured them. "But I this does 
involve her. I think it was done for her sake, even if she doesn't know it."

"I guessed as much," said Fatty. "We've heard that they're talking about her in 
Newbury and Bucklebury, and obviously we see how you're considering the boys she 
used to go around with."

"I don't think there's anything in it. Celie used to tell me an awful lot about 
the boys she went out walking with," said Estella. "She talked a lot about of 
kissing, with Berry and some of the other lads. I thought it terribly shocking 
at the time." Her eyes went to Ilbie, and a little smile flickered at the 
corners of her mouth. "I'd never kissed anybody. But I think it was mostly 
talk."

"Then I can count on you?" Frodo asked not only Estella, but the others seated 
around him. They all, even Isalda, agreed. 

!~|xi|~!

The funeral for Merimas Brandybuck was well attended for a small, private 
ceremony, for the Buckland and Stock gentry and Bucklebury relatives had turned 
out to pay their respects. Chief Muggeredge stood at a tactful distance from the 
assembled crowd, and Uncle Dinodas had shown up, although he hadn't bothered to 
change from his comfortable old tweeds. Merimas's friends were there. Frodo knew 
some of them, had spoken to them when he'd made his inquiries: Gorbulac 
Brandybuck, an older Bucklebury cousin, Salvo Goldworthy, a local gentlehobbit, 
and Ulmo Pogs, a tenant farmer. Some of the other farm-folk made appearances as 
well. The Todbrush brothers were there, but Frodo was surprised to see that 
Milli hadn't come even though she and Celie were friendly. She had been to 
Crickhollow this morning and was kind enough to press one of his good shirts for 
him, but must be too nervous to be away from her mother and little boy for very 
long.

Also present were a number of young hobbits who had no especially fond feelings 
for the deceased, but were friends of his widow and had been invited by Dodi to 
come to Ivysmial afterwards. It would be impolite for them to show up for the 
post-funeral reception without attending at the funerary rites first.

Frodo, along with Fatty, Dodi, and Ilbie, had volunteered to carry the bier from 
the back parlor to the Brandybuck vault. They were the same four who had carried 
Berilac's bier three years earlier; as they stood respectfully beside the 
flower-covered figure laid out on the platform before the open door of the vault 
and listened to solemn speeches about the young life cut tragically short, Frodo 
had the oddest feeling that this had all happened before. He was even wearing 
the same black coat with the velvet collar and a gold-threaded waistcoat very 
like the one he'd worn on that other occasion.

After the funeral, most of the guests went to Brandy Hall, where Esmeralda had 
arranged for refreshments to be served, while Celie's friends gathered at 
Ivysmial. Since it was a fine, sunny day, plates of sandwiches and seed-cakes 
were laid out on tables in the rose garden, rather than in the tiny cottage 
parlor. While Frodo had never attended the parties at Ivysmial before, he knew 
they were normally riotous. Today, the gathering was subdued. 

Celie herself did not join this group immediately; like Merry and Melilot, she 
had to make an appearance at the Hall and receive the guests there first. These 
three came about half an hour later.

Before Celie and Melly arrived, Dodi introduced Frodo to his guests: Violetta, 
Dioica, and Lavendula Marishe, Lido and Lilaca Pebblebrook, Walderic and 
Aramanta Biggs, Layther and Hazel Downend, Hyacinth Bunce, Oleander Woodbury. 
Some other young Bucklebury Brandybucks besides Marleduc and Eliduc had also 
been invited. 

As they stood surveying this crowd, Fatty Bolger murmured that these 
"younglings" made him feel "creaky as an old uncle," and Frodo knew exactly what 
he meant. Most of them were in the same range of age as his youngest Brandybuck 
cousins, between thirty and five-and-thirty--only a few years younger than 
himself, but they seemed little more than children, foolish lads and giggling, 
silly girls. He focused his attention upon the males of the group, particularly 
the unmarried ones. Dodi's and Ilbie's hints had led him to believe that Celie 
had been involved to some degree with most of these boys before her marriage; 
when he spoke to them, even the married lads freely admitted that they'd been 
out walking or boating with Celie, but they were also quick to add that that was 
a long time ago and they were simply good friends today.

Everyone said the same three things: how terrible it was that Merimas had been 
killed, how awful this must be for poor Celie, and how earnestly they hoped that 
whoever had done this horrible thing would be caught soon. If they did not 
grieve for Merimas, they refrained from expressing their feelings aloud in the 
presence of his widow, sister, and bereaved family, but Frodo noted that they 
all seemed more sympathetic to Celie's distress than Merimas's actual death. No 
one said so distinctly, but he suspected that a good many shared Dodi's opinion 
that Celie was better off free of her constantly disapproving husband. He also 
detected an undercurrent of fear and excitement in their talk, for Merimas had 
not come to his death through illness or an accident, but by violent murder, and 
his murderer had not yet been found. Everyone wondered who could have done it... 
except for perhaps one who already knew.

Frodo had kept to himself so much these past months that he was surprised to 
realize that everyone knew who he was. The famous detective living in Buckland 
was enough to cause talk even when he wasn't investigating. And now there was a 
murder for him to solve! His presence added to that sense of nervous excitement 
among the guests. Whether or not they were aware that they were invited here as 
possible suspects, everyone he spoke to assumed that he was looking into his 
cousin's death. Unfortunately, that tended to put them on their guard if he 
tried to probe beyond the most simple questions. 

He did manage to have a brief conversation with Marleduc and Eliduc. They 
naturally spoke of Celie, and when Frodo ventured that he'd heard Marly had been 
sweet on her once, Marledoc replied rather defensively:

"What if I was? Everybody was. Celie and I went around together, did a bit of 
kissing--nothing more! Of course I'm very fond of her. I might've asked to marry 
her when we were older, but she was matched off to Merimas before I was ready to 
think about marrying anybody. We've remained friends since, but friends only, 
Frodo. She's a married lady, after all, and that's that."

Frodo had heard this same declaration from Celie's other old boy-friends, but 
hearing it from Marledoc, he wondered if it was as simple as that. There was a 
tone of dejection in Marledoc's voice as he spoke that made Frodo think that 
Dodi understood the young hobbit's feelings about Celie better than Celie 
herself did. "She isn't married now, Marly," he reminded him. "After a suitable 
period of mourning has passed, I'm sure someone will ask for her. One of her old 
friends."

"I daresay you're right, but it won't be me," said Marleduc. "She doesn't 
understand how it is with the lads. Since she heard about me and Merry, and some 
other boys, she thinks I don't like girls at all. She doesn't think of me that 
way. I hope she does marry again, to someone who will make her happy, happier 
than she's been. That old stick Merimas was always scolding her for her 
misbehaviors."

"And _he_ wasn't so pure himself!" added Eliduc.

Frodo pounced on this last remark with acute curiosity. "What do you mean by 
that?"

"It's only something I've heard," Eliduc answered, more reluctant to speak once 
he was pressed. "One hears stories. They say there's a girl or two who could 
tell a tale about old Merimas if they were inclined." But he could not produce 
any names when asked.

"I heard something similar once myself," Marleduc said, "but I can't believe it, 
not of Merimas. If it weren't for the two little boys, I'd find it hard to 
believe he ever unbuttoned himself for Celie!"

Frodo also doubted whether there was any truth to this tale. He'd never heard a 
hint of scandal attached to Merimas before. Quite the opposite. Merimas would 
probably have been more generally liked if he'd been a little more scandalous.

He hoped that Celie's friends would tell his deputized cousins, who had been 
instructed on the kind of conversations to encourage, whatever they wouldn't 
tell him. Dodi and Ilbie and their wives were on friendly and confidential terms 
with everyone present, and Fatty and Flora knew most of the guests well enough 
to chat with them easily. Pippin was also at ease among these thoughtless young 
hobbits, for he was of their age, just turned three-and-thirty, and had met many 
of them during his earlier visits to Buckland. His recent return from his 
travels made him of particular interest, and he regaled an enthralled audience 
that included the Pebblebrooks, Violetta Marishe and Hyacinth Bunce with tales 
of his life with the circus and displayed a few modest sleight-of-hand tricks. 
If he grew more vivacious after Merry's arrival, and paid more attention to 
Hyacinth, Frodo guessed that this was because he wanted to demonstrate that he 
wasn't hurt by Merry's rejection and could still have fun without him.

When Celie, Melly, and Merry arrived, they were accompanied by Amarilla 
Underhaye and a male hobbit whom Frodo had noticed at the funeral, but didn't 
recognize; he looked to be at least forty, dark haired and handsomely dressed. 

Melly was talking with Amarilla as if they were old acquaintances, which they 
probably were if Amarilla had been a friend of Melly's older sister. It didn't 
strike Frodo as remarkable that his girl-cousins should be attracted to an 
intelligent and artistic young lady who lived by herself. Amarilla made a 
striking contrast to the rest of Celie's and her brothers' friends, but it 
wasn't so strange that the two would take up with each other after Mentha had 
died and Melly had married and gone away.

Amarilla introduced their companion. "This is my cousin, Darco Underhaye. He 
lives up near the Brandywine Bridge, but happened to be here today." 

When she introduced Frodo, her cousin bowed to him rather stiffly and regarded 
him with interest and a curious expression of distaste. "Ah, yes. The famous 
investigator."

"Do we know each other?" Frodo asked. He didn't recall meeting Darco before, but 
the name was vaguely familiar and Darco seemed to dislike him for some reason.

"No, we haven't met, Mr. Baggins, but I've seen the results of your work before. 
I was a friend of Val Stillwaters," Darco explained. "I know what your 
investigation did to _him_. And after you were done, you went off from 
Budgeford. You didn't see how upset poor Luddy Binglebottom was because you 
asked him about Val--to help Val, you said, only it didn't turn out that way, 
did it?"

Frodo understood why this hobbit should dislike him over the Stillwaters affair, 
which had been tragic all around, but he couldn't be contrite over Val's fate. 
"I won't apologize for doing more than upsetting Mr. Binglebottom," he 
responded. "I meant to find proof Val's guilt or innocence, and your friend 
agreed to answer my questions. If I hadn't gone to him, I would have come to you 
or another of Val's friends."

"If you'd come to me, Mr. Baggins, I would have lied."

"You say that, knowing what you do now about Camellia Stillwaters' whereabouts?" 
Frodo asked incredulously. 

"Val would then still be alive," Darco retorted.

"But Camellia wouldn't be." That left Darco momentarily nonplussed; he had no 
reply. Frodo retreated from the quarrel that was about to arise, and next asked, 
"Are you also a friend of my cousin Doderic, Mr. Underhaye, or of Merimas?"

Darco shook his head. "Neither. I came to Bucklebury to visit Amarilla, and 
since I'm not well acquainted with the Brandybucks, I thought it best to 
accompany her rather than intrude too long as a stranger at Brandy Hall. I'm 
afraid I didn't know your dead kinsman at all, but I was once a friend of 
another cousin of yours, who is also dead."

"Berilac," said Frodo, not surprised that Berry's name should come into this 
again. He seemed to be everywhere. "Did you never meet Celie before today?"

"The widow? I saw her once or twice when I visited Berilac." Darco turned to 
watch Celie, who had gone with Melly to greet her friends and receive 
sympathetic hugs, squeezes of a hand, or kisses on the cheek. "She was only a 
little girl in those days, but she's grown into a charming young lady. I can see 
why someone might kill for her, but I suppose you'll find that unlucky person 
and see him hanged too." With another stiff bow, he turned to find his host.

Amarilla had stood by and listened to this exchange without word, but her face 
was flushed and she looked acutely embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Baggins," she 
said once her cousin had gone. "I had no idea Darco thought so harshly of you, 
but I should have guessed. He was devastated when his friend Val died, and I've 
known him to be... unforgiving of lesser slights." 

Frodo assured her that he didn't blame her. The effects of an investigation on 
the innocent as well as the guilty was something he never liked, but it was 
unavoidable.

They talked about his previous cases. Amarilla asked about the book he was 
writing and his travels beyond the Shire. Frodo told her about places he'd seen, 
the ones he could describe with wonder and recall without pain: Rivendell, 
Lothlorien, Minas Tirith. Frodo wondered at first if she was trying a 
flirtation; he couldn't help being aware that, in spite of his doubtful health 
and peculiarities, he was considered an eligible bachelor, but Amarilla's 
interest in him seemed to be purely intellectual. He had been to places she'd 
never heard of and read books on subjects most hobbits were entirely ignorant 
of, and she was eager to hear about both. 

Eventually, the conversation turned to Celie. 

"Celie's a sweet girl," Amarilla told him. "Naive, yes, but she's still very 
young. Under the proper influences, she might grow into a lady of distinction. I 
think the elder ladies of the Hall did her a grave disservice. What she needs is 
an older sister to guide her, as poor Mentha did when she was alive. It's a pity 
Melly has left Buckland. She would do very well. At least, Celie's brothers have 
had the sense to marry intelligent girls a little older than themselves to 
befriend her, and I try to do what I think Mentha would have in my place, though 
of course I don't have the influence she did."

"It will be easier for you now that Merimas has gone," Frodo observed.
 
She gave him a sudden, sharp glance. "That's true," she admitted, "Merimas 
didn't approve of my friendship with his wife. I suppose Celie's told you that. 
He thought I was a bad influence, since I advised her to stand up to him when he 
treated her like a wayward child, or insulted her unjustly. Husband or not, he 
had no right to speak to her that way. He didn't approve of me as Mentha's 
friend either, but he had no power over his sister's choices. He couldn't bully 
_her_ as he did poor Celie."

Even though Celie had said that she hadn't told anyone about Merimas's 
accusations, Frodo wondered if she had confided something of them to her friend. 
Amarilla's remarks suggested that she had a good idea what their quarrels were 
like.

The reception went on until late afternoon. When the last of the sandwiches and 
cakes were depleted, the guests began to think of dinner and straggled off in 
little groups after they'd made their farewells to their host and hostess and to 
Celie. Then Celie herself returned to the Hall.

"Thank you, dear Dodi, for having this party," she said to her brother before 
she went. "It's made me feel so much better--better than I would sitting and 
weeping with Mama and Aunt Melisaunte." Her spirits had obviously risen since 
the funeral and the color was coming back to her cheeks.

Marleduc, perhaps goaded by Frodo's observation that Celie wouldn't remain a 
widow long, offered to escort her home. After they'd gone off in the direction 
of Brandy Hall, his brother Eliduc went alone across the fields toward 
Bucklebury. 

!~|xii|~!

Once the last guest had gone, Isalda sat down on one of the garden benches and 
sighed deeply in relief. "I was afraid this was going to be awful. I don't like 
suspecting our friends, but they didn't guess they were suspected--thank 
goodness!--even though we pried and pumped them so shamelessly."

Dodi and Ilbie were not present, and had presumably gone into the cottage. 
Estella, feeling tired, had likewise gone inside. The rest of the group remained 
in the garden as the shadows grew long and the air began to cool with the 
sunset, and they told Frodo what they'd learned through their prying and 
pumping. 

Celie's friends had been more forthcoming with Frodo's cousins than they had 
been with him. Speculation about whom Celie would marry now that she was free of 
Merimas ran rampant. Everyone assumed that it would be one of their own circle. 
The Marishe sisters favored Oleander over Hyacinth, but the married ladies said 
that this was because the Marishes preferred Hy for themselves--to be specific, 
for Violetta--and could afford to be more generous with Oleander since he had 
never shown much interest in _them_. 

Pippin laughed when he heard this. "Oh, they won't catch Hy that easily!" Merry 
gave him an odd look.

Neither unmarried boy had given his opinion on the question, but the other lads 
thought that Marly had the best chance of marrying into the Brandybucks, since 
he was a Brandybuck himself, if he would be bold enough to take it. One wag 
suggested that Master Merry could quash all scandals and find two ready-made 
heirs if _he_ married his young cousin. Everyone agreed that no matter whom 
Celie chose, he would be a bett