Mystery at Peacock Hall (4 page)

“One mystery a day,” Benny said, counting on his fingers.

Henry ruffled Benny’s hair. “You’re getting too smart! Pretty soon you’ll be solving mysteries all by yourself.”

Benny grinned, pleased with his big brother’s praise. He would start solving those mysteries right away, just as soon as he had lunch.

For her job at the Jefferson Center for Historic Plants, Cousin Althea wore a long, rosebud-sprigged cotton dress topped with a white apron. A white ruffled cap sat on her curls.

“I love your dress,” Violet said as they were driving to Monticello.

“We all wear eighteenth-century costumes,” Althea said. “This outfit is fun to wear this time of year, but it’s chilly in the fall. Then I put on a shawl.”

She pulled into the employee parking lot. “I’ll be in there,” she said, pointing to a large building. “Roam around all you want. Meet me in the plant center at three-thirty.”

Instead of touring the house, the children wandered around the spacious grounds. They took the roundabout walk, bordered with beautiful spring flowers, on the west side of the mansion.

Catching up with a tour group, the Aldens learned that Mr. Jefferson liked to experiment with different kinds of plants.

“He tested over two hundred and fifty varieties of vegetables,” the guide stated. “His favorite vegetable was the pea, and he grew twenty kinds of peas in his thousand-foot garden.”

Benny wrinkled his nose. He loved to eat, but green peas were not his favorite food. “Twenty kinds of peas! Yuck!”

Teasing him, Jessie said, “We’re having peas tonight for dinner!”

“It’s almost three-thirty,” Henry told them. “We’d better head back to the plant center.”

The Center for Historic Plants was enormous, with exhibits, more gardens, and a gift shop where people could buy plants and seeds grown on the estate.

Althea was working behind a cash register. She held up five fingers, meaning she would be ready in five minutes.

Violet wandered around the busy shop. She was browsing through a book on wildflowers when someone bumped into her.

Knocked off balance, Violet stumbled into a rack of seed packets. She caught the stand before it toppled with a crash.

“Mind your own business,”
a voice whispered hoarsely.

Still grappling with the rack, Violet couldn’t turn around to see who had spoken.

But she smelled a familiar scent.

Lavender.

H
enry rushed over when he saw Violet having trouble.

“What happened?” he asked, pushing the stand upright.

“Somebody knocked into me,” Violet explained. “And I fell into this.”

“Did you see who ran into you?” Henry asked.

She shook her head. “No, but whoever it was whispered, ‘Mind your own business.’ And I smelled lavender. Like Heather wears.”

Henry scanned the room. Since he was taller, he could see over racks and dividers. But the gift shop was packed with customers.

“I don’t see Heather. Are you sure it was her?”

“No, I’m not. The voice could have been anybody,” Violet said. “But Heather is the only person I know who wears lavender. She told us this morning she wears it all the time.”

Jessie and Benny made their way across the crowded room. Henry quickly told them what was going on.

“Would Heather follow us to Monticello?” Jessie wondered.

“You told her we were coming here,” Benny reminded her.

“That’s right, I did.” Jessie frowned. “Even if Heather did bump into Violet, why would she tell Violet to mind her own business? She doesn’t even know us.”

“Maybe she knows Cousin Althea,” Violet said. “Her stand is just across the field.”

“Heather
did
give us directions to Peacock Hall,” Henry added. “She must know the way to Althea’s house very well.”

Jessie gave him a nudge. “Here comes Althea now. Let’s not tell her about this. She’s worried enough about paying her taxes.”

They drove back to Peacock Hall. Grandfather’s station wagon was parked in the driveway.

“Grandfather is back already,” Henry remarked. “I thought he’d be gone all day.”

“Maybe he has good news!” Benny said, leaping out of Althea’s old car.

But he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” James Alden reported to Althea. “I wasn’t able to get you an extension. You must pay your back taxes by Friday no later than five o’clock.”

Althea raked her fingers through her white curls. She looked so pale, Jessie fetched her a glass of water.

“Thank you, dear.” Althea gratefully sipped the cool drink. “And thank you, James. I know you’ve done all you can. I guess I was hoping for a miracle.”

“I’m not finished yet,” Grandfather assured her. “I still have a few more people to see.”

Althea gave a weak smile. “Don’t worry. They’ll have to carry me out. That’s the only way I’m leaving!”

“Is anybody hungry?” Benny said suddenly.

Violet laughed. “Hint, hint!”

Grandfather laughed, too. “As a matter of fact, I’m starving. Let’s all go into town and have supper.”

They piled into Grandfather’s rental car and drove into Charlottesville. Althea pointed out sights along the way.

“That’s the University of Virginia,” she said. “Mr. Jefferson founded the University and designed the buildings.”

Grandfather pulled the car into the parking lot of a restaurant. “Is this where we’re eating?” Jessie asked. “The College Inn?”

“I’ve had lunch here,” Grandfather said. “The food is very good.”

“It
is
good,” Althea agreed, smiling her thanks as Henry opened the door for her.  They have terrific ice cream. Did you know Mr. Jefferson served ice cream at Monticello? In those days, ice cream was a real treat.”

Inside, Benny sat down and asked the waitress, “You don’t have peas here, do you?”

“Only if you want them,” the waitress replied, grinning.

“Not really,” Benny said. “Did Thomas Jefferson build this building, too?” He was afraid he’d have to eat peas if Mr. Jefferson had founded the College Inn restaurant.

“Not to my knowledge, honey,” the waitress said in her soft drawl. “What’ll you folks have this evening?”

The children ordered hamburgers, french fries, and milk. Grandfather and Althea decided on large Greek salads and iced tea.

“We’ll have some of Mr. Jefferson’s famous ice cream for dessert,” Althea said, teasing Benny.

“Good idea,” Benny said. Ice cream tasted better than peas any day.

Jessie glanced around the room. College students drew up extra chairs to the small tables. She wondered what interesting subjects they were talking about.

Then her gaze fell on a familiar pair. Jessie stiffened when she recognized Marlene Sanders with Roscoe Janney.

Althea saw them, too. “What is my great-nephew doing with that real estate woman?”

“Real estate woman?” Jessie asked. “Do you know her?”

At that moment, Roscoe spotted the Aldens and his great-aunt. He stood up, tossed a few bills on the table, and left the restaurant.

“What’s with him?” Henry wanted to know.

“Good question,” Althea said. “Roscoe has never been this rude to me before. I wonder —”

If Roscoe Janney was suddenly shy, Marlene Sanders was not. She fixed her lipstick, rubbed some lotion on her hands, then closed her purse. Wearing a phony smile, she came over to their table.

“Mrs. Randolph,” she greeted. “Mr. Alden.” She didn’t look at the Alden children. “Althea, have you thought over my offer?”

Althea raised her chin. “
Ms.
Sanders, I have no intention of selling Peacock Hall to your firm.”

Marlene shook her head. “You’re making a big mistake. We’ve made you a very generous offer. I know for a fact your taxes are due Friday and you don’t have the money.”

“You don’t know everything about my business affairs,” Althea stated.

“Well, I do know that on Saturday Peacock Hall will be auctioned and my company will pick it up for a song. And you won’t have a dime.” With that, Marlene Sanders stalked away.

“That woman almost makes me forget I’m a lady,” Althea said.

“She’s not very nice,” Violet agreed, remembering the way the real estate woman had acted at Heather’s stand that morning. She thought she caught a whiff of a sweet fragrance. But the smell of a pizza at the next table was stronger.

Grandfather asked Althea, “Have you considered her offer?”

“As if I’d sell to a company that would turn Peacock Hall into a golf course!” Althea shuddered. “I’d rather be thrown out in the street first.”

“But,” Grandfather pointed out, “Ms. Sanders’s firm will probably buy Peacock Hall anyway.”

“Roscoe made an offer, too,” Althea said. “But he’s not a Randolph. I just hate going against my husband’s wishes.”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” said Jessie. “We still have three more days.”

The Aldens had solved many mysteries. Jessie knew a lot could happen in three days. If only they had one clue about the secret of Peacock Hall!

Althea smiled. “I’m so glad you all are here. It means the world to me.”

“We’re glad to help,” said Grandfather.

After dinner, they drove back to Peacock Hall. Since the sun was down, the peacocks were quiet. It was too early to go to bed. Henry called his sisters and brother into an emergency meeting.

“We can’t afford to waste a minute,” he said. “Let’s hunt for the treasure now.”

“Good idea,” Violet agreed, “Grandfather and Cousin Althea are playing checkers.”

“Let’s finish the second floor,” Jessie said, leading the way up the long staircase. “We still have those back rooms to search.”

The back rooms were down the hall from the bedrooms the Aldens were using. The windows were smaller and the furniture was older. One room seemed to be used for storage. It contained several trunks, dressers, and desks.

The children decided to search that room first. They each chose a piece of furniture and began pulling out drawers and checking for secret panels.

Benny sneezed as he opened a trunk.

“We should have cleaned in here first,” Jessie murmured. “Benny, be careful with those old clothes. They could be valuable.”

Benny held up a long blue satin gown. “Is this the treasure?” He wrinkled his nose at the funny smell. “It stinks, if it is.”

Jessie giggled. “Those are mothballs. The smell is supposed to keep moths from eating holes in stored clothes.”

“That
is
a pretty dress,” Violet remarked. “Do you think it’s worth a lot of money?”

Henry glanced over at the pile of clothing around Benny’s ankles. “I doubt the whole trunkful is worth nine thousand dollars. Though a drama company might like to buy those outfits for costumes.”

Jessie jiggled at a stubborn catch on the desk by the window. The drawer wouldn’t pull free. She tugged harder. It wasn’t locked, just rusted shut with time.

Suddenly the drawer yanked loose, sending Jessie backward. She landed on the floor with a thump.

“Are you okay?” asked Henry.

“I’m fine.” She glanced at the empty drawer and sighed. “All that for nothing!”

“Maybe not.” Benny was staring at a square of yellow paper fluttering to the floor.

J
essie scooped up the fragile scrap. “What’s this?”

“It fell out of the desk when you pulled the drawer,” Benny said.

The others gathered around to examine the paper.

“It looks really old,” Henry said, handling the paper carefully. “The writing is faded in some places.”

Benny turned his head sideways. “I can’t read that funny printing.”

“It’s not printing,” Jessie told him. “In the old days, people wrote in a fancy way.”

The children studied the paper in the lamplight, but no one could make out the wavery writing.

“Let’s take it downstairs and show Grandfather,” said Jessie. “I bet he can read it.”

They ran down the stairs to the living room.

Grandfather was just jumping one of Althea’s pieces. “King me,” he said. “What have you children got there?”

Jessie handed the yellowed paper to him. “We found this in an old desk. Can you read it?”

Grandfather pushed his glasses up on his nose. “This is very old, judging from the paper and ink. ‘Receipt for’ . . . something, something . . . ‘England.’ That’s all I can read.”

“Let me try,” Althea said, adjusting her own glasses. “Is that a date at the bottom? I can’t read it any better than you, James.”

“It’s obviously a receipt for an item. Possibly something bought in England,” Grandfather said. “Do you want to put this away, Althea?”