New Horizons (17 page)

“But why? Why all the secrecy?” Mandie asked. “I overheard a woman in a bookstore downtown tell my grandmother that she read about it in all the newspapers. Evidently something out of the ordinary happened.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Amanda, but that is where I have to draw the line,” Senator Morton replied with a sad expression on his face.
“Now, tell me about your college. Are you enjoying your classes there?”

Mandie took another deep breath to control her anger. Why was everyone so secretive about her grandfather's death? She would find out for herself one day. In the meantime, she tried to smile as she said, “Yes, sir, I am learning a lot about money. I suppose that's the main reason I'm here, because my grandmother insisted I needed to learn all this.” Then Mandie leaned forward to whisper, “But she doesn't know I will give all that money away if I do inherit it someday. I can't be bothered to look after such stuff when there are so many other pleasant things in life to do.”

“Well, Miss Amanda, what are you planning to do?” Senator Morton asked with an alarmed expression on his face.

“I might just rent me an office after I finish school, hang out a sign in front that says
Amanda Shaw, Lady Detective
, or maybe I'll just take over the orphanage that Joe and I founded and run it. I definitely don't want to be burdened with money like my grandmother is.”

Senator Morton gave a pleased grin and said, “Rest assured I will not give away your secret.”

Mary Lou spoke up. “But, Mandie, you wouldn't have to handle the money yourself. That's the kind of business my father is in. Other people could do it for you, and then you could still be a detective.”

“You're right, that is the kind of business I'm in, but I don't
have any clients with large fortunes to handle,” Mr. Dunnigan said with a laugh.

“Joe Woodard has asked several times to handle the money for you,” Celia reminded her.

Mandie cleared her throat and firmly repeated, “I may never get married.” Turning back to the senator she asked, “How long will you be here? I'd be glad to show you our college if you have time.”

“Thank you, dear, but I must get the train tomorrow to continue on my way. We have several votes coming up in the senate that I don't want to miss,” Senator Morton replied. “Perhaps another time I will be coming through and have more time.”

Mrs. Dunnigan spoke from across the room. “We insist that you stay tonight with us, rather than in that hotel, Senator. We have plenty of room.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Dunnigan. If I won't be imposing on y'all, I would be most happy to stay,” the senator said.

“And I would like for you to see the boardinghouse and meet Mrs. Thomason,” Mandie said. “She can tell you all about this ghost tale, and then you can relay it to my grandmother.”

“I would like to see the boardinghouse and meet Mrs. Thomason. I know your grandmother will be asking all about it,” Senator Morton said. “I'll be stopping over in Asheville on my way to Washington, so I will talk to her then,” he explained.

When the men went to pick up the senator's baggage, Mrs. Dunnigan worked on supper and the girls went upstairs to Mandie
and Celia's room to discuss their changed plans for the day.

Mandie sighed and said, “Grandmother seems to know how to disrupt everything even when she's not present. I'm wondering what Grace will think when we don't come back this afternoon.”

“I don't think she'll worry about it. She will know something delayed us.” Mary Lou comforted Mandie's thoughts.

“We'll just be sure to go tomorrow afternoon,” Celia added.

“I wish Senator Morton would have told me about my grandfather,” Mandie said. “There seems to be some deep, dark secret concerning his death. No one will ever talk about it.”

Mary Lou suddenly straightened as she said, “Mandie, have you ever thought about searching the records yourself to see what happened? After all, your grandfather was a United States senator—an important man.”

“And evidently the newspapers all wrote about it,” Celia added. “Remember what that lady said in the bookstore down on Meeting Street that day?”

“But where would the records be? In Washington, D.C.? I would never be able to go up there—not without my grandmother or mother—so how could I even see the records?” Mandie asked.

“Too bad you didn't know about this when you were in Washington for President McKinley's inauguration that time,” Celia said.

“Yes, I know,” Mandie said. Then she frowned and added, “I don't understand why so many people have to keep secrets from me. You don't know this, Mary Lou, but I didn't even know my real mother until my father died when I was eleven years old.
And I didn't know that I was one-fourth Cherokee until after my father died and Uncle Ned told me.”

Mary Lou gasped in surprise.

“I think it's just awful that everyone kept all that from you,” Celia said, sounding angry.

“Since people always seem to be keeping secrets from you, I wonder if there is anything else they haven't told you,” Mary Lou wondered aloud.

“I certainly hope not,” Mandie said. “I'm all grown up now and want to be treated as such.”

“Then let's figure out a way that we can go to Washington and get into the records about your grandfather,” Mary Lou suggested.

Mandie looked at her friend and said, “Mary Lou, there is no way I can get away from my grandmother, my mother,
and
Uncle John to go to Washington. And if any of them agree to come with us, they would never let us search the records, because they're all trying so hard to keep that a secret from me.”

“Don't give up on it,” Celia said sympathetically. Then an idea seemed to come to her as she brightened and said, “We might be able to arrange for my mother to escort us if we don't tell her exactly what our plans are. I'm sure if we said we'd just like to visit the National Archives, she'd think we were interested in history in general.”

Mandie's eyes widened as she looked at her friend and said, “That may be a possibility. Why don't you talk to your mother, Celia. In the meantime, while we're here, we need to solve this ghost mystery for Mrs. Thomason.”

After supper that night the girls walked with Senator Morton around the block to see Mrs. Thomason. She was surprised to meet the senator.

“Let's sit in my private parlor and we'll have Sadie bring us coffee and cakes, shall we?” she said, leading the way.

They found seats in the small room while Mrs. Thomason went to order refreshments. She soon returned with Sadie pushing the tea cart.

“This is a pleasure, Senator Morton,” Mrs. Thomason said as everyone was served. “I have heard so much about you.”

Senator Morton laughed and said, “Well, I do hope it was all good.”

“Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Thomason said with a slightly embarrassed laugh. “I've followed some of your decisions made on votes in Washington. You see, our local newspaper covers most of the political scene in Washington.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” the senator said, sipping his coffee.

Then Mrs. Thomason turned to the girls. “I hear you three have been back to the flower shop. Were you able to get any information about the keys?”

“Not yet,” Mandie answered. “We will probably go back down there tomorrow afternoon. I'm hoping we can get into the old papers the locksmith left when he moved out of the shop.”

“I wish I could go with you, but business is picking up right now—and I can't leave Sadie alone, either,” Mrs. Thomason said quickly. Turning to the senator, she explained the story of Sadie's
ghost sighting. “I'm sure there is an explanation, and we're trying to find it.”

“Down in Florida, where I live, people claim to see ghosts sometimes in the swamps,” Senator Morton told Mrs. Thomason. “And in old graveyards and such.”

“Oh dear, have
you
ever seen a ghost, Senator Morton?” Mrs. Thomason asked with a skeptical look on her face.

“No, ma'am, I have not,” he said. “However, some of the stories about ghosts, especially around St. Augustine, just can't seem to be explained. A lot of people down there do believe in ghosts.”

Turning back to the girls, Mrs. Thomason said, “When you get a chance to look through those papers at the flower shop, please let me know if you find the boardinghouse address on anything. If the locksmith kept careful records, a name should appear with the address, and from that I can hopefully see whether the name is someone who lived here or not.”

“Mrs. Poinsett packed all the papers up when she took over the building, so there ought to be some kind of records there,” Mandie said. “I can't imagine what could be on a pile of papers except his business dealings.”

“Then maybe we will be able to find something that will help us,” Mary Lou said.

“I hope we can get to the bottom of this rather soon. It's been very unsettling,” Mrs. Thomason told them.

The girls assured her that they wouldn't quit until the mystery of the ghost was solved.

The next afternoon, when they went back to the flower shop, they discovered that Grace had obtained permission from Mrs. Poinsett to go through the old papers, and the girls set to work in a hurry.

Mandie kept flipping papers, trying to read the handwriting on each one, then finally declared, “These papers are all written in a foreign language of some kind. Look at this. None of them are readable.” She sighed as she shuffled the papers on the counter where they had emptied out a box.

Celia, Mary Lou, and Grace gathered around to look.

“Is it the handwriting that is illegible maybe?” Grace asked.

“Or is it some kind of code?” Celia asked.

“The numbers on these are legible, but not the rest of the writing,” Mary Lou declared as she shifted the ones she had on the counter.

Looking at Grace, she asked, “Do you know if Mr. Jacks was a foreigner and wrote in another language?”

Grace shook her head and said, “I never met him.”

Mandie looked at Mary Lou and said, “Your father said he talked to the man. He didn't say anything about him being a foreigner, did he?”

“Not that I remember,” Mary Lou replied, still shuffling through the papers.

Celia suddenly realized something. “I don't believe the man was a foreigner. I think he must have been uneducated and
didn't know how to spell or write, so he had his own code to record things.”

The girls looked closely at the papers again. The series of symbols did seem to be in repetitive patterns.

“Oh goodness. How can we ever decipher such stuff?” Mandie asked.

“Here's one where he has drawn a diagram or map showing someone's house or building,” Grace said, waving a paper in front of her.

The girls scanned the paper.

Mary Lou suddenly said, “I believe I can figure that one out. That's a house at the corner of Adair and Leslie Streets. See the way he drew the crooked roads. And Leslie is a dead end.”

“You are right,” Mandie agreed. “I don't know the street names, but I can tell this is supposed to be roadways of some kind.”

“If that's what he has done, it will take hours and hours to decipher all these addresses,” Celia complained. “And you would have to do most of it, Mary Lou, because we don't know the streets in Charleston like you do.”

“If only my father could look at these papers. He would know so much better than I do about the streets,” Mary Lou said.

“Maybe I could get permission from Mrs. Poinsett for y'all to take the papers to your house, Mary Lou,” Grace volunteered. “Do you think your father would have time to look through these?”

“Oh yes, I'm sure he'd take time to help us out,” Mary Lou
said. “And Mrs. Thomason might be able to help, too.”

“Then I'll ask Mrs. Poinsett tonight about doing that,” Grace promised.

“This sure is taking a long time,” Celia complained. “I wish there was some way to speed things up so we could figure out whether Sadie really saw a ghost or not.”

“I'm sure Sadie did not see a ghost. That's why we're going through these papers—to find out who could have played a trick on her, remember?” Mandie said, stuffing papers back into the boxes.

“Well, whether y'all believe in ghosts or not, I noticed Senator Morton never did say he
didn't
believe in ghosts. Did y'all notice that?” Celia asked.

Mandie frowned as she thought about his conversation. “Yes, you're right.”

“I think we'd better get going or we may be late for supper,” Mary Lou reminded the girls. They all said good-bye, with Grace promising to get permission for them to take boxes home with them to get help going through the papers.

Later, when everyone was sitting at the supper table, Mary Lou explained to her father what they would like to do. “We think the papers all have diagrams and drawings on them.”

“I wouldn't be at all surprised; I don't believe that man could read or write,” Mr. Dunnigan replied. “I'd be glad to look at the papers for y'all.”

“Should we ask Mrs. Thomason to look at the papers, also?” Mrs. Dunnigan asked. “She would be looking for her house and
might recognize whatever scrawling the man might have made for it.”

“Yes, that is a very good idea,” Mr. Dunnigan replied. “Would you find out if she might be able to get together with us tomorrow night?”

“I'll find out,” Mrs. Dunnigan promised.

After supper the three girls got together in Mandie and Celia's room for their nightly rehash of the day's events.

“You know, I've been thinking about this search,” Mandie said, settling into one of the big chairs. “What if it turns out to be someone we know?”

“Well, we wouldn't have to confront them ourselves. Mrs. Thomason can take care of all that,” Celia said, flopping on the bed.