Deception at Dark Hall (The Briony Martin Mystery Series) (3 page)

The door creaked open a moment later and an unsmiling butler in full regalia admitted them. Briony found herself squeezing Daniel’s arm a little too tightly. The setting was straight out of a Gothic novel, and the mansion seemed cold and unwelcoming, especially on a rainy March evening.

Something Paige had said ran through her mind quickly. One of Paige’s concerns was that Daniel might be handing over significant amounts of his hard-earned money to this woman, Miss Dark. As Briony stepped into the three-story central hall that had been built under a glass dome and had a spiral staircase rising eighty feet into the tower without a center support, that theory flew out the window. There was no way Sharlyn Dark needed anyone’s money. The place resembled a museum or a European castle more than a home. However, just because someone was rich, she reasoned, that didn’t mean they didn’t need or crave more.

“Wait here,” said the butler in a monotone voice. He took their jackets and vanished down a dimly lit hallway.

“This place is incredible,” Briony whispered, glancing at the ornate tapestries and portraits hanging on the surrounding walnut paneled walls.

Daniel whispered back. “I’ve been given a tour of the entire mansion. There are rooms finished in a variety of historic styles. There’s a Louis the sixteenth salon, an Indian room, an Ottoman parlor, a Renaissance library, a Spanish music room, an English dining room that seats fifty, and a Moorish study; the rugs of which are saturated with perfumes. Paintings collected by the original Mrs. Dark adorn the grand ballroom, which is seventy-five feet long and has a marble floor.”

“I take it Miss Dark doesn’t hold séances because she needs the income,” Briony said, tongue in cheek, but also to check his reaction.

Daniel’s face seemed petrified into a strange expression of wonderment. “Sharlyn does it because she’s been blessed with a gift, Briony. She’s selfless. It’s her only wish to help people connect with those they love that have passed on.”

“You may follow me now,” the butler said, appearing from the depths of the gloomy hall like a phantom and interrupting their conversation.

 The two of them trailed him down a different hall and into another corridor. They were escorted onto an elevator, which took them to the second floor. Upon exiting the elevator, the butler led them down still another hallway and up a short set of stairs that were covered with red carpet the shade of blood. By the time they were finally shown into a room, Briony’s heart was in her throat.

The room they entered was small, carpeted, and paneled in more rich wood. It smelled strongly of the musky scent of patchouli. Dimly lit by what appeared to be electric wall sconces, the lamps seemed to be set on their lowest wattage. At the far end of the room sat a large round table. Seated around the table were four people, none of whom were talking. The room was as quiet as a tomb.

Daniel escorted Briony to the table. All eyes turned to stare at them when they approached. His voice delved low to match the somber quality of the atmosphere when he introduced her to the others.

“This is Miss Briony Martin from Wichita, Kansas. She’s here visiting my brother and sister-in-law.”

The bobbing of heads and soft murmurs welcomed her. She noticed Daniel’s gaze had locked on the woman sitting at the head of the table. Above her on the wall was a huge ancient looking tapestry woven with muted colors. As Briony’s gaze moved over it, a shudder sliced through her. The unsettling scene portrayed a nude woman with long flowing hair standing under a full moon. A half dozen rams with curled horns, cloven hooves, and flared nostrils surrounded her. The woman’s eyes were closed, and her mouth was open in what appeared to be a cry; of agony or ecstasy, Briony wasn’t sure which. Either way, the picture was troubling. She wondered what would possess anyone to purchase such a horrid piece. Maybe Paige and Mark were onto something after all, with regard to the witchcraft rumors.

Daniel’s voice interrupted her musings. “Briony, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Sharlyn Dark.”

Her gaze shifted away from the tapestry. Miss Dark, whom she guessed to be in her early twenties, was stunningly beautiful. Her heart-shaped face was as pale as a winter’s moon and seemed to be filled with an unearthly glow. Strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in ripples. Her lips were full and rosy, her eyebrows light and feathery, and her ice blue eyes were almond shaped, adding to her otherworldly quality. Although a shawl was draped around her shoulders, Briony could tell she was petite and fine boned. Under the shawl she wore pale pink. If wings protruded from her back, she’d look like a virginal fairy.

Briony glanced at Daniel again. His eyes seemed to be glazed over with the look of…what was it? Respect? Admiration? Or could he be in love with the woman?

Although their hostess was as mysterious and beguiling of a creature that Briony had ever met, it was Miss Dark’s eyes that enraptured her the most. The young woman looked directly at her, yet her gaze seemed to be looking just below eye level, as if through her, perhaps into her soul. It crossed Briony’s mind that maybe she
could
see somewhere beyond where others could not.

“It’s a pleasure to have you join us,” Miss Dark said. Her voice was as lovely as the rest of her—sweet and bewitching. She nodded, and the wisp of a smile crinkled her lips. Then her left hand touched the sleeve of the person standing next to her. “This is Lee, my assistant.”

It was then that Briony took note of the young man. Miss Dark and the ugly tapestry had captured her full attention. She hadn’t noticed Lee until now. Slender and short in stature, his hair was platinum blond, like many of the female movie stars of the day, and parted on the side. Unsmiling, his nose was pert, and his eyes were as gray as a foggy morning. The way he stared gave Briony the feeling that he was always on guard and distrustful. The poor boy’s ears were too large for his head, giving him a comical appearance. However, it was apparent that he took his job as assistant to Miss Dark seriously. His pinstriped suit was gray, spotless, and ironed perfectly. A crisp white shirt and black tie finished the outfit to give him a professional and distinguished flair.

“Say hello to our guests, Lee,” Miss Dark directed.

He cleared his throat and said, “Hello. Thank you for coming. We’re pleased to have all of you tonight.” His head bowed toward each of the guests, including Briony and Daniel.

Something about the young man suddenly bothered her. His voice seemed too high. When he swept his tongue across his bottom lip, she felt the hairs on her arms stand on end. Her gaze narrowed, and she noticed the delicate curve of his jaw, the slimness of his shoulders, and plucked eyebrows. Her inquisitive gaze traveled to his throat. Lee had no Adam’s apple. The revelation struck her like lightning. Lee was not a man. She was a woman dressed like a man! But why? Briony felt her own eyebrows snap together in wonderment. No wonder Paige was so worried about her brother-in-law. This was a strange house indeed.

“What are you wearing tonight, Miss Martin?” Miss Dark asked.

Briony was briefly taken aback by the question. Although the room was dim, she was standing across from the woman. Couldn’t she see what she was wearing? Anyway, why did it matter? Fishing for personal information probably had something to do with her scam. Miss Dark’s mystical eyes nearly glowed as she stared through and beyond Briony. Once again, she felt a chill like the brush of spider webs across her back. It was then that she understood. Sharlyn Dark was blind.

Due to the bizarre nature of the evening thus far, Briony momentarily forgot what she was wearing. She glanced down at her outfit and answered quietly. “I’m in a knee-length skirt, a white blouse, and a green sweater.”

“She also has a beautiful silk scarf tied around her neck,” Daniel added.

“And your hair and eyes?” Miss Dark inquired. “What color are they?”

“Brown.”

Briony was about to ask why that information was needed when Miss Dark said, “Thank you. Please take your seats, and we’ll begin.” She nodded, and Lee lowered himself (or rather, herself) into the chair next to her.

Daniel pulled out the empty chair next to Lee. Briony smoothed her skirt beneath her thighs, and Daniel scooted her in and then took the seat next to her. When Briony glanced at Miss Dark again, the woman’s gaze remained fixed straight ahead though she tilted her head slightly in Briony’s direction. A gasp caught in her throat. Miss Dark
was
blind, wasn’t she?

“We will begin,” their hostess announced.

The light flickering off the wall sconces lowered even further, as if on their own, throwing the room into near total darkness. Briony heard the shallow breaths of Daniel on one side of her and the stifled breathing of the older woman at her other shoulder. When her eyes adjusted to the dim, she strained to see Miss Dark in the shadows opposite her. The self-proclaimed medium’s own eyes were closed. She began to gently sway to the beat of a rhythm only she could hear.

As Briony nonchalantly glanced at the others around the table, she saw their eyes were all closed, too. Everyone, except her, seemed relaxed. No doubt they eagerly anticipated the spectacle to come. She wondered. Whose spirits would be summoned tonight? Men? Women? Children? Although her heart was jumping, she rather looked forward to hearing Miss Dark’s impersonations and trying to determine how she accomplished the charade. She let her eyes drift shut.

Ten long minutes passed in dead silence without an utter from Miss Dark’s mouth. Though the temptation was strong, Briony resisted the urge to shift in her seat. It seemed as if no one else had moved a muscle. Another five minutes passed. She allowed one eye to slowly wink open. Everyone else remained still as statues with their eyes closed.

The tension of remaining perfectly quiet for yet another five minutes was almost more than Briony could bear. She wished a phantom trumpet would blare or chains would rattle, or a ghost would groan. If a door slammed shut on its own, at least someone might scream or leapt from his or her chair. Anything to get the party going, she thought, with a noiseless sigh.

Suddenly, the air in the room crackled with static electricity. A low moan escaped Miss Dark’s lips. “Who is there?” she called out. “Who calls me from the grave? Come forth, Spirit. Come forth and speak to this assembly.”

Briony’s gaze shifted between Sharlyn and Lee in order to determine if they would be working together somehow to fool the audience. Lee remained stiff and still. Miss Dark’s eyelids flipped open, and her head turned to the woman sitting at her right. Then her rosy lips parted, and her voice came out small. “Mother, it is I, Albert. Can you hear me?”

The woman gasped. Her fist covered her mouth and tears burst from her eyes and rolled down her powdered cheeks. “Yes, Albert. I hear you. Is it really you, my precious son?”

“It is, Mother,” Sharlyn answered in a young boy’s voice. “I’ve missed you so. Have you missed me?”

“More than you could ever know,” the woman blubbered.

Briony listened as mother and son carried on a short conversation. Albert ended by assuring her that the light was beautiful and he was being taken care of by his grandparents.

Shortly afterward, another spirit spoke. This time Sharlyn’s voice deepened to a baritone. Apparently, he was the uncle of the stocky, whiskered man at the table. He had a message for his brother. “Lyndon,” Sharlyn’s voice boomed, “tell your father that I forgive him for what happened in the summer of 1948. He’ll understand. Do you hear what I say? I won’t rest until he knows I don’t hold him responsible.”

Lyndon mopped his forehead with a hankie and promised to deliver the message to his father.

Next, the woman sitting next to Briony was gifted with a visit from her recently departed mother. She and Sharlyn (speaking as her mother) discussed topics such as the roses in her garden, her jewelry that she wished to be divided between family members, and the assurance that she no longer suffered.

As Briony raptly listened and watched the interactions, she realized just how lonely and desperate these people must be. She couldn’t fathom how intelligent men and women could believe voices from beyond the grave were able to speak through this young blind woman. Although she didn’t know how to prove it, Briony was sure Miss Dark was performing nothing more than a parlor trick. The darkened room, overwhelming scents, and strange surroundings added to the deception.

She stared at Daniel. His face was stretched tight with expectation. It was obvious he hoped to hear from his beloved fiancé. But what if Monica didn’t show herself tonight? How would he react? Would he be devastated?

Briony bristled in her seat as both the emotional and physical strain in her body prepared to uncoil. How dare Miss Dark dupe these poor folks into thinking they were communicating with their loved ones. If it wasn’t for money, what did she have to gain by this sham?

Her mind was wandering and contemplating the puzzle when Miss Dark looked straight at her. She grinned and said, “Briony, I’m so happy to see you. It’s been such a long time.”

Briony’s thoughts snapped into the here and now.

“Don’t you recognize me?” Miss Dark angled her head. Her voice had once more changed, this time to a more masculine tone, though not as rough and overbearing as the impersonation she’d done of Lyndon’s uncle. Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and she tugged on her earlobe.

The hairs on the back of Briony’s neck stiffened. That gesture was a familiar one. Although she knew all of this was a trick, it seemed the world stopped spinning for a moment. She felt Daniel’s steady gaze on her.

“Do you know the voice?” he whispered.

She inhaled deeply, but didn’t answer. Her gaze remained locked on Miss Dark’s. The young woman stared at her with those ice blue eyes. Then they suddenly rolled up into her head. Her next words resonated in a plea. “Please acknowledge me, Briony. We have so much to talk about. Mother…father… I know you spoke to him. He asked for your forgiveness.”

She felt the color drain from her face. Her mouth grew as dry as sawdust.