The Tapestry in the Attic (16 page)

It was somewhat chilly out, but Annie had dressed for it, so she didn’t mind. The snow had begun to melt away though there were still many patches on the ground and large heaps of it where the snow had been pushed aside to clear streets and walkways. Annie took a moment to look around at the buildings and the grounds of the campus. It was charming, even at that time of the year when the grass was hay-colored, the trees were still bare of leaves, and the snow that remained had lost its luster.

The large buildings on the campus were all made of red brick, connected by pathways made of the same-color brick. The walks were crowded with students, some alone, some in groups, but all carrying backpacks or book bags. In the center of the grounds was a large three-story building that seemed to be the heart of the campus. From the center of its roof arose a tall bell tower with a domed roof. Annie wondered if the bell in the tower was ever rung.

She turned to look at Wilson Hall. Even though the brick matched the other buildings, the style of this one was different. The front of the building was decorated with four white columns, and between the columns were tall entry doors. Concrete steps led up to the doors, but thankfully, at some point an access ramp had been added to one side of the stairs. Annie made her way toward the ramp.

Once she was inside, she was equally impressed with the interior of the building. The ceilings were very high and covered with ornate copper-color tin panels; the woodwork was the color of dark honey. She walked further into the lobby and looked into a large room that was off to one side. It had a fireplace and groups of comfy chairs scattered around with coffee tables between them. Annie could imagine students finding their way here between classes to study or socialize. She found herself wondering if it had been like this when Gram took classes here. She tried to imagine her grandmother as a young woman, sitting in this room, perhaps reading a book, or talking and laughing with friends. The thought made Annie smile.

She looked at her watch. It was nearly time for her appointment, but there was no sign of Kate and Alice. As she was debating whether to take the elevator to the second floor where she had been told that Professor Pettit’s office was located, she heard the outer door open. Looking up, she expected to see Kate and Alice, but she was surprised. It was Professor Howell instead.

16

When Professor Howell saw Annie standing in the lobby of Wilson Hall, his face registered momentary surprise too, but he recovered quickly. “Mrs. Dawson! How lovely to see you out and about. What brings you to Longfellow?”

“Good afternoon, Professor,” said Annie. “I have an appointment with Professor Pettit to talk about Lily Cornette—the person we think made both of the tapestries from Grey Gables.”

“How interesting,” said Professor Howell. “I would love to stay and chat, but I have to conduct a class shortly.”

“Is the theater department in this building?” asked Annie.

“No,” said the professor. “The theater department is in a new facility. It’s located on the Wadsworth campus.”

Annie looked puzzled. “Where’s that?”

“It’s just on the other side of the woods to the west of this campus. There’s a road and a walkway through the center of the woods that bridges the two campuses,” said the professor. “You see, Wilson Hall and all the other buildings in this section are the original campus. When the board of governors decided to enlarge the college, they didn’t want to detract from the historical flavor of it by incorporating modern styles of buildings here, so they planned a second campus, named after Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s grandfather, Peleg Wadsworth.”

Annie smiled. “I’m glad they did that. I was thinking earlier how charming these old buildings are.”

“I agree,” said the professor. “But you must take a drive through the new campus before you leave Longfellow today, and if you have time, stop in to see our theater—the Maxine Elliot Theater; it’s named after the famous stage actress from Maine. Now, I really must go. I teach a class on historical costuming in this building twice a week. Again, it’s lovely to see you. I hope your leg continues to heal and that we’ll see you back at your duties as prompter soon. Believe me when I say that we miss you!”

With that, the professor made for the staircase, and for a man of his age and build, Annie was surprised to see him spring up the steps two at a time. It was then that Alice and Kate entered the building. They were slightly out of breath.

“You just missed Professor Howell,” said Annie. “He teaches a class in this building.”

“Professor Howell? What a coincidence,” said Alice. “Aren’t we running a little late for our appointment? We got here as fast as we could.”

Annie looked at her watch. “Yikes! Yes, we’d better get going.”

Annie, Alice, and Kate took the elevator to the second floor. Annie had written down the office number, and the three women walked down the hallway checking the small plaques on doors. There were also classrooms with classes in session, so they walked quietly down the hallway, speaking in low voices as they looked for Professor Pettit’s office. Finally they reached the door with the correct number, and Annie knocked on the door. A woman’s voice said, “Come in.”

The office was tiny and packed to the gills with books and papers and a small desk that faced a narrow window. Professor Pettit sat in an office chair facing the laptop on her desk, but then she swiveled around to face them after they stepped inside. There was a single extra wooden chair in the room, but there was barely enough room for Annie, Alice, and Kate to stand.

Annie reached out to shake Professor Pettit’s hand. “Professor Pettit? I’m Annie Dawson. Sorry we’re late. This is Alice MacFarlane and Kate Stevens. We’re here to talk to you about Lily Cornette.”

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” said Professor Pettit in a broad New England accent. “I’m Mabel Pettit—please call me Mabel. I was just grading some essays. I think the four of us will be a little crowded in here. Perhaps we should go down to the Emerson Room on the main floor.”

It turned out that the Emerson Room was the room that Annie had looked into with the upholstered chairs. The four ladies sat down to face one another around one of the coffee tables.

“How may I help you?” asked Mabel. “Why are you researching Miss Cornette?”

Annie started at the beginning and explained everything to Mabel, ending with the theft of the tapestry.

“That’s extraordinary,” said Mabel. “You have pictures of what you call the Proverbs 31 Woman tapestry?”

“Yes,” said Annie. “I have it on a flash drive. Oh! And I almost forgot.” Annie reached into her tote bag and took out the “Home Song” tapestry and laid it out on the coffee table. “This is the one that has been hanging in my grandmother’s living room for years and years.” She once again reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of letters Lily had written to Betsy Holden, that Annie had tied together with a length of lavender satin ribbon. She handed the stack to Mabel, explaining what they were.

Mabel looked at the tapestry on the table for a long time, and then untied the packet of letters and shuffled through the envelopes. “Well, Annie,” she finally said, “this is an amazing find.”

“Does that mean that Lily Cornette was the person who made the tapestries?” asked Alice.

“I’ll have to see the photographs of the other tapestry, but if it is as you say, and it has the same signature panel as this tapestry, then, yes, I would have to say that both are Lily Cornette tapestries.”

“What can you tell us about her?” asked Annie.

“Let me show you something first,” said Mabel. She got up from her chair and walked toward a corner of the room that was adjacent to the doorway. The others followed suit. When Annie turned around to follow Mabel, it was only then that she saw the tapestry on the wall. This tapestry wasn’t as big as the Proverbs 31 Woman tapestry, but it was still quite large. It was mounted on a frame much the same way as Annie and Molly had done, but with the additional protection of a glassed-in cover over the top of it, the surface of the glass about an inch away from the tapestry with air vents along the sides.

It was similar in layout to the “Home Song” tapestry that Annie was so familiar with. At the top of it was a scene, though this one showed a room filled with women in seventeenth-century clothing instead of a cabin. Each woman in the scene was engaged in something to do with needlework—carding, spinning, winding yarn, and embroidering. In the area below there was a stanza from a poem by one John Taylor, and dated 1631:

“Flower, Plants, and Fishes, Beasts, Birds, Flyes, and Bees,

Hills, Dales, Plaines, Pastures, Skies, Seas, Rivers, Trees;

There’s nothing neere at hand, or farthest sought,

But with the Needle may be shap’d and wrought.”

Annie looked at the bottom of the tapestry for the signature panel, and she was not disappointed. This one read, “L.C.~MCMLII~L.C.”—this tapestry was from 1952.

“Wow,” said Kate. “This is so cool, Annie! I’d have never believed that we’d ever have found out who made the tapestries from Grey Gables; I can’t wait to tell the others!”

Annie agreed and smiled, but then her attention was drawn to a framed black-and-white photograph of a woman next to the tapestry. The woman was posed, holding a threaded tapestry needle in one hand, a small partially embroidered piece of cloth spread across her lap with a corner of it grasped in her other hand. Her hair was dark, but streaked with gray, and was pulled back and up, but not severely—several strands were loose, as if she had just taken a moment from a busy schedule to sit for the portrait. Her expression was pleasant, but unsmiling. She was wearing a pair of pince-nez clipped to the bridge of her nose, and she looked through the unframed eyeglasses, not at the camera, but at some point distant, with a look of deep thought.

Beneath the portrait was a plaque that read:

LILY CORNETTE

Sept. 18, 1901–March 20, 1968

Friend, educator, needleworker, and preserver of the traditions of the fiber arts. Thirty-five years she spent at Longfellow College, teaching and encouraging her students to carry on those traditions. In life, she was energetic and modest. In death, we remember her with respect and affection, and offer her the praise she refused when she was among us.

Annie couldn’t speak for moment. Now, she not only knew who made the tapestries from Grey Gables, but she had a face to go with the person she had learned about in the letters that had been written to her grandmother. Lily Cornette had obviously been an extraordinary woman to receive such a tribute.

It was Mabel who suggested they should go back up to her office so they could bring up the photos of the Proverbs 31 Woman tapestry on her computer. After Annie put the small tapestry and Lily’s letters back in her tote, they took the elevator back up to the second floor. In Mabel’s office, Annie sat in the wooden chair, and Alice and Kate stood while Mabel plugged in the flash drive and brought up the photos. She was silent as she scanned through the pictures.

“This is amazing, ladies,” said Mabel when she had finished. “I’ve never seen or heard of this one before. It’s just extraordinary. Nineteen-sixty-six—it must have been the last tapestry she made. Lily Cornette died of cancer in 1968, but she was ill for some time before that.”

Annie thought of Lily’s letters. The last letter from Lily that Annie had found among her grandmother’s letters was from 1967, and there was no mention of cancer.

“Do you know what sort of cancer it was?” asked Kate in a quiet voice.

“Yes,” said Mabel. “It was breast cancer. It wasn’t discovered early, so even though they did a total double mastectomy, afterward they discovered that the cancer had already metastasized to the bone. There was really nothing they could do to save her.”

Annie, Alice, and Kate were silent for a moment, each buried in thoughts of the fate that might have awaited Mary Beth if her cancer had not been discovered early and feeling sympathy for what Lily must have gone through.

It was Annie who broke the silence. Speaking to Mabel, she said, “Can you think of any reason why someone would want to steal the tapestry?”

“Well, yes,” said Mabel. “Lily Cornette tapestries are highly valued. There are tapestries of hers hanging in museums all over the world now. We don’t spread it about, but the college has had an offer of two-hundred-thousand dollars for the one you saw downstairs.”

“You’re kidding,” said Alice. “So Lily Cornette was rich?”

“No,” said Mabel. “As often happens with artists, it was only after her death that her tapestries became appreciated and started to be collected by art dealers and sold at auctions. In the 1980s, prices started to rise, and by the early 2000s the bids for them just went through the roof. I would imagine that the little tapestry in your tote bag is worth many thousands of dollars. I wouldn’t be surprised if the tapestry you found in your attic would receive a bid as high as a million dollars if it were to be sold at auction. I think that’s a pretty good motive, don’t you?”

****

The ride home was quiet at first. Annie’s mind was whirling. Not that many people had actually seen the tapestry, besides people that she absolutely trusted—the members of the Hook and Needle Club, Wally Carson, and Molly Williams from Expert Cleaners—and people she didn’t know as well, but who she just couldn’t imagine stealing it—Professor Howell, Dolores and Cyril Fortescue, Stacy Lewis, and Felix Bordman. She refused to believe that any of them could have anything to do with something dishonest. It must have been someone who knew a lot about the art scene, and when they heard about the tapestry and the name of Lily Cornette, they knew that it was extremely valuable and had somehow managed to find out where it was being kept. But who could that be? How would she ever be able to track down some stranger and make him or her return the tapestry? It seemed impossible.

Annie broke the silence in the car. “I guess I’ll just have to accept that we’ll never set eyes on the Proverbs 31 Woman tapestry again.”

“What I don’t understand is this,” said Alice. “If someone’s motive is money, how can they collect? Once we give this information to Chief Edwards, and he passes it along to the FBI, or Interpol or whatever, anyone who puts the tapestry up for auction is going to be arrested.”

“Not if they already know of a private buyer,” said Kate. “I saw it in a movie once. The thief stole a famous statue from a museum, and then he met this rich guy on his private jet and the rich guy gave him a briefcase full of one-thousand-dollar bills for it. The rich guy just wanted it for himself—he had a private gallery in a secret location. I can’t remember what happened at the end of the movie, but the point is, I think that’s possible. Don’t you?”

“I suppose so,” said Alice. “Or maybe, the person who stole it
is
an art collector and just wanted it for himself—or herself, and never plans to sell it in any case.”

“Which brings us back to my point,” said Annie. “I don’t have a clue how we’re ever going to find the tapestry. It could already be locked away in someone’s secret vault or decorating the wall of someone’s private gallery. I wonder if Gram knew how valuable it had become. Do you think that might be why it was hidden away?”

“She might have known,” said Alice. “I don’t think Betsy ever did anything without some good reason. I just don’t know if we’ll ever be able to figure out why that tapestry was in her attic.”

“Well,” said Annie, “it’s all moot now. The tapestry is gone. I wish there was some way I could make everything right. I don’t know what I would have done with the tapestry, but it’s out of my hands now.”

****

That evening, Annie began shutting off the downstairs lights so she could go upstairs to bed, still mulling over the events of the day. It had been her first outing since her accident—she refused to call it anything else—and she had felt energized to be going to Longfellow College for the first time and by the prospect of learning about Lily Cornette. But after processing the information they had gotten from Mabel about Lily and the tapestry, she was almost certain there was nothing there that would help her catch the thief. It was a dead end.

After Alice and Kate had left Grey Gables, Annie had replaced the Home Song tapestry in its niche in the living room. She didn’t care if it
was
worth thousands of dollars; it was priceless to her. It was a symbol of a friendship between her grandmother and a dear friend, and she made a vow that she would never part with it.