Mystery in the Old Attic (2 page)

“Wow,” said Benny, bounding up the steps. “I've never seen a house like this. Can I have one of the tower rooms?”

Grandfather shook his head. “The top floor of the house is rented. When Aunt Sophie grew older, the house became too much for her, so she converted the top floor into apartments.”

“Oh,” said Benny. “The renters have the tower rooms?”

Grandfather nodded. “But you will have your choice of bedrooms. As I remember, there are at least five on the second floor.”

“How many renters are there, Grandfather?” Jessie wanted to know.

“Two. One in each little apartment.”

“Nothing about this house looks little,” said Henry, shaking his head. “Look at those big trees in back.” He pointed to some massive oaks.

Grandfather turned his key in the lock. “Let's go inside now.”

The wooden door creaked open. The Aldens walked through a large parlor, then into the biggest living room the children had ever seen. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Oriental rugs covered the parquet floors. A grand piano stood near the bay window, and scattered around the room were overstuffed armchairs, comfortable couches, and antique tables and chairs.

“Look at that fireplace,” said Benny. “It's big enough for me to sit in.”

“I would not try that,” said a strange voice.

The Aldens whirled around to face a middle-aged, balding man with a mustache and glasses. The man introduced himself to Grandfather. “Hello, I am Professor Francis Schmidt. I live upstairs on the third floor.”

“Oh, yes,” said Grandfather, shaking the man's hand. “You teach history at the local college. Aunt Sophie told me about you.”

The professor nodded a little sadly. “Your aunt was a lovely woman,” he said. He turned to look at Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny but did not say anything to them. He looked only at Grandfather when he spoke. “So, how long will you be staying?” he asked.

“Long enough to clean up the house a bit in order to sell it,” answered Grandfather.

“I was afraid you might sell this old house, but I don't blame you. It would be a lot to take care of, especially when you don't live here.”

“Yes,” agreed Grandfather. “I do hate to sell it, though. I have so many fond memories of all the times I spent here as a boy. The house is very much the way I remember it.”

The professor chuckled. “Your aunt was not one to change much. In all the years I've been renting, I've never even seen her move a stick of furniture from its usual place.”

“No, that was not Aunt Sophie's way,” said Grandfather. “She wanted the house to stay the same. After all, it was the house she had lived in most of her life.”

“Well, if you'll excuse me, I must go back to grading papers,” the professor said. “I have my own entrance to the house, so I will not be disturbing you. I just came in to introduce myself when I heard your voices.”

“It was good to meet you,” said Grandfather.

The professor turned to look pointedly at Benny. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I often work at home.” The professor paused for effect. “So I do hope you children will not be too noisy. I do not wish to be disturbed when I am doing my research. Good day.”

With that, the professor turned and walked out of the room. The children could hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs.

Benny frowned. “I am not noisy,” he whispered.

Grandfather shrugged. “He probably isn't used to children,” he said. “Anyhow, he won't be able to hear much of anything from the third floor. This house has very strong floors and walls. There's no need to whisper. In fact, he probably would not even hear the piano if we started playing.” The children laughed.

“Come on. Let's explore some more,” said Benny. He forgot how tired he was after the long plane trip. “I want to see the secret closet.”

“Yes,” said Jessie. “But don't forget, we have to shop for groceries and make the beds so we can sleep here tonight.”

“I know,” said Benny as he rushed across the room. The others followed him into a long dining room. A table with twelve chairs around it took up most of the room.

“Who are those portraits of?” asked Henry, pointing to the oil paintings of a man and a woman that hung above the long table.

“The Taylors,” Grandfather said. “They are distant relatives of ours. In fact, they lived in the house before Aunt Sophie.”

“Mrs. Taylor sure is pretty,” said Violet. The young woman in the painting sat under a tree on a plaid blanket. She wore a long, white lace dress with a high collar. Her blond hair was tucked under a wide-brimmed straw hat.

“Yes, she was,” Grandfather agreed. “She died young, not long after that portrait was painted.”

“Oh, how sad,” said Violet.

“Let's not think about that,” said Henry. “There's a lot more to explore.”

Indeed there was. The house had a ballroom, an enormous kitchen with a pantry, a library, and six bedrooms on the second floor.

“Why do all the bedrooms have fireplaces?” Benny wanted to know.

“This house was built in the days before central heating,” answered Grandfather. “They needed fireplaces to heat the rooms.”

Benny and Henry decided to share a big bedroom with a window seat. Jessie and Violet picked the one with the big four-poster bed in it. Grandfather chose the little bedroom he had slept in as a boy.

The Aldens were very busy. Henry and Benny unloaded the car and brought in all the bags. Jessie and Violet found sheets and towels in the big closet near the kitchen and began to make the beds.

When all the beds were made, Grandfather took his grandchildren out to eat at a local diner. “We can shop for groceries tomorrow,” he told Jessie.

“Yes, I'm starving,” said Benny as the Aldens all piled into the car. “You know, I didn't have much lunch.”

Jessie laughed. “Yes, Benny. I know.”

“Look how dark it is,” said Violet as Grandfather started the car. She looked at her watch. “It's only six o'clock.”

“It gets dark early here in the fall and winter,” Grandfather explained. “We're farther north than in Greenfield, so the sun sets earlier.”

“Oh,” said Violet.

The moon was rising as Grandfather drove down Aunt Sophie's long, winding driveway. None of them noticed the blond girl in the tower window who was watching everything they did.

CHAPTER 3

A Nosy Waitress

V
iolet was the first one awake the next morning. She put on her fuzzy slippers and tiptoed out of the room she shared with Jessie. It was so quiet in the hallway, Violet could hear the floorboards creak. She walked toward the ballroom and stepped inside. As she looked around the large, airy room, she imagined couples from long ago dancing in the night.

“Boo!” someone shouted behind her. Violet jumped.

“I didn't mean to scare you.” Benny was laughing. He walked over to Violet in his fuzzy slippers. “Isn't this room huge?”

Violet nodded. “I wonder what it was like to live here when people used this room for dances,” said Violet, looking up at the high chandeliers that each held twelve candles. Folding chairs and small tables were stacked in one corner of the room. In another were some old chairs covered with a sheet.

“Do you think Great-aunt Sophie gave balls in here?” asked Benny.

“Well, yes,” answered Violet. “But this room does not seem as if it's been used in a while. Look how dusty everything is. We've got some work to do.”

“Oh, Violet, Benny, there you are,” said Jessie, who stood by the door. “Grandfather is taking us all out to breakfast.”

“Oh, goody,” said Benny.

Half an hour later, the Aldens were seated at a booth in the Jarvi Bakery in downtown Brockton.

“Boy, these pancakes are delicious,” said Benny as he poured more raspberry syrup over them.

“They're called pan-nu-kak-ku,” said Grandfather. He pronounced each syllable slowly. “They're Finnish pancakes.”

“They taste better than regular pancakes,” said Henry. “They're like a combination of a pancake, an omelet, and custard.”

Benny nodded. His mouth was full.

“I couldn't help overhearing how much you like the
pannukakku,
” said the waitress when she came over to refill Grandfather's coffee. “You know, there is a Finnish special on the menu every day.”

“Are all the specials as good as these pancakes?” asked Benny after he had swallowed his food.

“Oh, yes,” answered the waitress, who was young and blond. “At least I think so. You're staying in the old Taylor mansion, aren't you?”

“How did you know that?” Benny looked very surprised.

“I saw you from my window,” the waitress answered. “I rent an apartment on the third floor.”

“For heaven's sake,” said Grandfather. “So you're the other tenant. I am James Alden, and these are my grandchildren: Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny.”

“Yes, I know,” said the waitress, extending her hand to Grandfather. “I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Kimberly Watson. I just moved here a couple months ago from California. I used to talk to your aunt all the time. She was really nice.”

“How do you know about us?” asked Benny.

“Your great-aunt Sophie told me all about her family in Greenfield. Even though she never met you, she felt she knew you through your grandfather's letters.”

“Oh,” said Benny, looking pleased.

“How do you like living in Brockton?” asked Grandfather.

Kimberly shrugged. “Well, it's really different up here. I'm not used to this cold weather, or …” Kimberly paused and twirled her long hair. Violet noticed she wore a ring on every finger, except her thumb.

“Or what?” Henry asked, when it seemed as though Kimberly was not going to finish her sentence.

“Uh, never mind,” said Kimberly. “So, I hear you're selling the old house.” She seemed eager to change the subject.

“Yes,” answered Grandfather. “We'll be going through my aunt Sophie's papers and belongings. I plan to sell the house complete with the furniture. Unless there are any pieces my grandchildren want,” he added, smiling at them.

“Well, let me know if you need any help,” said Kimberly. “I know all about your aunt Sophie's things. We spent quite a bit of time together.”

“Really?” said Grandfather.

“Oh, yes,” said Kimberly importantly. She looked as if she wanted to keep talking to the Aldens, but more customers were coming into the bakery. She rushed off to take their orders.

* * *

On the way home, the Aldens stopped off at the grocery store, then the hardware store, where they bought brooms, mops, pails, rags, and other cleaning supplies.

“Brockton sure is pretty,” said Violet as the Aldens walked to their car. Old sandstone buildings lined Brockton's Main Street. In the distance, the Aldens could see rolling hills covered with pine trees and Victorian-style houses.

“Wow, all these houses look about one hundred years old,” said Benny.

“Some of them are,” Grandfather answered. “Many of them were built at the same time as Aunt Sophie's.”

When the Aldens returned to Aunt Sophie's house, they were very busy. First they unloaded the car and put away all their groceries and supplies. Then Grandfather went upstairs to his aunt Sophie's study to begin sorting out all her papers. Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny swept the ballroom and moved all the broken furniture to the woodpile outside.

“We can sell the pieces that are in pretty good shape with the house,” said Henry. “The rest we can use as firewood.”

By lunchtime the ballroom sparkled. “It looks good enough to give a party in here,” said Jessie proudly as she shook out her broom.

The others nodded. “I think we should eat after all this hard work,” said Henry.

“Good idea,” said Violet. Benny was already on his way to the kitchen.