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Authors: Jessica Estevao

Whispers Beyond the Veil (19 page)

BOOK: Whispers Beyond the Veil
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“And this impediment led to a crisis with a daisy?”

“Since the room would be dark except for the glow from the candle at the center of the table it was easy enough to fasten items to the end of a length of thread and to direct it over the table using a fishing pole. Emily manned the pole, and after the apportment made the rounds in front of the astonished sitters I would pluck it from the air and place it on the table for inspection. It worked like a charm.”

“Until the daisy?”

“Yes. Emily grabbed a spool of red thread from the sewing basket instead of a green one to attach the flower stem to the fishing rod. When I reached up to remove it a bit of a red thread tail remained on the stem. I didn't notice it but even in the low light Mr. Stickney did.”

“Did he threaten to turn you in to the authorities?”

“He told me to immediately cease my mediumistic pursuits.” Cecelia surprised me by rooting around in her sleeve and fishing out a lace-trimmed hankie. She dabbed at her eyes before
continuing, and I had no trouble believing her show of emotion was not a performance. “He remarked that my circumstances must indeed be desperate if I was willing to debase myself in such a way for so little sure reward. He offered to not expose me and to allow me to continue my business if I agreed to take him on as my client for far more debasing activities to be performed in darkened rooms.”

I felt my stomach churn. There had been many times when Father had spent all our earnings on strong spirits or poorly considered schemes. I was always very uneasy in my mind at those times when I had spotted my father whispering with the man who ran the grubby tent at the far edges of the show. I hardly dared let myself consider what sort of bargain Father might have been trying to strike.

“From the conversation I overheard I can only assume you decided to no longer ply your trade as a channel?”

“I gave it up immediately and left Boston. I've never been back. Fortunately, I met my dear Everett not long after. He encouraged my interest in astrology and I have made a decent living from it ever since.”

“Does he know about your encounter with Mr. Stickney?”

“He knows nothing of my troubles or of my time as a medium. It only lasted a few short months and I thought it best forgotten. I have the feeling you might understand the desire for a fresh start.”

“Perhaps. What happened to Emily?”

“Emily and I parted ways. I could not convince her to accompany me and we completely lost track of each other after that.”

“You do know it looks suspicious that Mr. Stickney died after threatening to expose you to your husband?”

“I understand but I didn't kill him.”

“Do you have an alibi?”

“I do but I would rather not say.”

“And I would rather that it can be proved that no one from the hotel was involved in the murder of a guest. You can see how that is likely to damage the business.”

“I am thinking of the hotel's reputation. I'd still rather not say.”

“Then I am afraid I will have to mention what I overheard to Officer Yancey.”

“Wouldn't that hurt the hotel and your aunt?”

“It would, but if it would end the speculation as quickly as possible then I think it's the lesser of two evils.” Cecelia bent over to pat Bisbee. I think it was to stall and consider her options.

“That man has brought me nothing but bad options and grief.”

“If you tell me where you were last night perhaps this will be the last time he troubles you.”

“I was at the Sea Spray Hotel next door. I didn't want Honoria to feel I was being disloyal.”

“What were you doing there that you couldn't do at the Belden?”

“Despite his public reputation as a temperance man, Mr. Jellison's hotel is one of the few places in town where you can go dancing and order a drink, too.”

“How do you think Mr. Jellison is getting his supplies?”

“I can't say that is something I know about but I've heard rumors about stills in the area and also liquor being brought down from Canada. I expect he doesn't have much trouble.”

“Isn't anyone worried about being caught?”

“Not really, from a legal standpoint. Most people simply end
up paying a fine. Jellison has his reputation to lose so he's more cautious than most.”

“Facing the wrath of Honoria and a fine at the courthouse is a lot less worrisome than staring at a murder charge,” I said.

“I think I might rather take my chances with the police than with Honoria.”

“Is there anyone who can vouch for you being there?”

“Mr. MacPherson was with me.”

“As much as I think he's an honest man, I think he's likely an even more loyal husband. Is there anyone else who might remember you being there?”

“Mr. Jellison would remember.”

“Why would he remember you?”

“Everett made a bit of a fuss. He was asked to leave and to not return. It was all very embarrassing.” I was shocked to hear it. Mr. MacPherson was such a mild-mannered man.

“What could he have done to provoke such a request?” I asked.

“He felt Mr. Jellison was speaking to me in an overly familiar manner. I'm afraid Everett's only real fault is his jealousy.”

“He caused enough of a scene to be thrown out?”

“I am sorry to say it was very embarrassing and I felt utterly humiliated. He actually started shouting and if I hadn't stepped in and calmed him down I believe he would have struck Mr. Jellison.” Bisbee strained at his leash and stopped just short of a rivulet of water running to meet the sea. “Goosefare Brook. This is as far as Bisbee and I go unless the tide is at its lowest point.”

I made my excuses and watched as they walked back toward the hotel. Only the sound of the train drew my attention as I
stood wondering if Cecelia's secret past was really a secret or if her jealous husband had felt the need to turn his rage on Mr. Stickney. After all, if he was angered when a man simply complimented his wife, how would he behave if he knew someone had made such outrageous overtures to her? As much as I didn't want it to be him, there seemed good reason to worry that pleasant Mr. MacPherson might be more complicated than he seemed.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-
NINE

I
had plenty to think about as I walked back along the beach. In addition to the murder investigation and Mr. Ayers's threats, there were still the practicalities of running a hotel to consider. Up ahead a familiar figure squatted on the sand next to a young woman dressed in a bathing costume. I waited until Nell released the girl's hand and collected her fee before approaching her.

“Hello, Nell. I was surprised not to see you at the hotel this morning. Was there some confusion about the date you would start?”

Nell stared at me, then turned her back and started to walk away. I hurried to catch up and tried again.

“Have I done something to offend you?”

“Yes.” Nell turned to face me and stuck her fists on her hips. I searched my memory for where I had gone wrong. My first foray into employee management was not likely to impress Honoria. If she meant what she had said about me learning the ropes in order to take over myself one day, clearly I had a long way to go.

“I'm happy to apologize if you tell me what I've done.”

“You think an apology will make up for telling the police you were assaulted by an Indian?”

“I did no such thing.”

“I've been told different.”

“The only thing I've said about you to the police was the day we met on the beach when I told Officer Yancey that horrible woman with the parasol was completely unprovoked. I never said I was attacked by an Indian.” I was flummoxed. My statement at the station the day before had not indicated any such thing.

“Officer Yancey said you accused an Indian man of trying to rob you.”

“Officer Yancey told you that?”

“He did.”

“Nell, I don't know how to convince you, but my words were misinterpreted.” I held her gaze with mine. “Officer Yancey and I are not on good terms. He may have told you those things to turn you against me.”

“Yancey would not lie to me. He believed what he said was true.”

“Is there nothing I can do to make you believe me?”

“If Yancey comes to me to say you have told him it was not an Indian man who attacked you then I will accept the position at the Belden. But until then, I do not wish to associate with you.”

•   •   •

A
s soon as I returned from my walk with Cecelia, I searched the hotel for Honoria, in order to share what I had learned. I found her in the parlor rearranging needlepoint pillows on the tufted settee.

“Why didn't you tell me about the conversation between Mr. Stickney and Cecelia right away?” Honoria asked.

“You had enough worries without wondering, with cause, if one of the staff in your employ was involved. I decided to look into it further before adding to your burdens.”

“You are such a treasure, my dear. How do you propose to verify Cecelia's alibi for the time of the murder?”

“I'll go to the Sea Spray Hotel tonight and ask the staff and if need be, Mr. Jellison himself,” I said with a lot more confidence than I felt.

“I cannot possibly accompany you,” Honoria said. “We shall have to find someone else.”

“I should have thought you would be the ideal person to chaperone me to a neighboring hotel.”

“I'm afraid Mr. Jellison and I have quite a history of antagonism. I vowed long ago I would never set foot in his establishment and I intend to keep my word.” Honoria was visibly quaking with indignation. “Are you quite certain there is no other way to pursue your investigations?”

“None that I can think of. Is there anything I should know about the feud between yourself and Mr. Jellison before I enter the lion's den?”

“Only that he has coveted my property for all the years I've owned it. He offered to buy me out as soon as your grandparents died and it was left to me. He was more than insulting when I refused.”

“Why would he insult you?”

“He believes women to be incapable of running a business and even went so far as to say he felt we should not be allowed to own property. He said that to me in front of my own guests and then had the audacity to propose marriage as a remedy for my incompetence.” Honoria flicked a fan back and forth in front of
her face but even her vigorous movements of the thin silk didn't seem equal to the task of cooling her temper. Her cheeks displayed a bright spot high on each, and a crimson stain spread down her throat and across her wide expanse of bosom. If she were older I would have worried for her heart.

“I can see why you wish to avoid him.”

“I had no inclination to marry before his proposal, not after seeing what happened to my sister.” Honoria paused and clucked her tongue. “No offense, my dear.”

“None taken.”

“But Mr. Jellison cemented my resolve never to do so. I determined to make my own way in business and in life. But even after all these years I feel him circling and scheming. He still wants the Belden and is just waiting for me to lose it to the bank so he can buy it on the cheap, knock it down, and add more rooms to his existing hotel.”

“Where did you hear a thing like that?” I asked.

“Mrs. Doyle's son-in-law overheard Mr. Jellison and Chief Hurley discussing his plans. Jellison said he didn't believe I'll last the season.”

“Did the chief agree with him?”

“Apparently so.” Honoria exhaled forcibly.

“Are Mr. Jellison and the chief close associates?”

“They're family. After I refused his proposal Mr. Jellison soon after made an offer of marriage to Chief Hurley's sister. She accepted, making them brothers-in-law.”

Suddenly, an idea occurred to me. “Did this conversation take place before or after Mr. Stickney's murder?” I asked.

“A few days before. Why would that be important?”

“What better way to ensure your hotel failed than to arrange
for a guest to be murdered?” Honoria looked at me with widened eyes.

“Do you think he would go that far to acquire the Belden?”

“You know him far better than I. What's your feeling?”

“I wouldn't put anything past him.”

“Then it's more important than ever that I go to the Sea Spray and verify Cecelia's alibi.”

“You cannot possibly go there alone. Perhaps I should ask Lucy and Yancey to accompany you.”

“I hardly think staff at a hotel serving illegal spirits are likely to be forthcoming in front of a police officer.”

“You're right, my dear. But we can still ask Lucy. Now all you need is a gentleman to accompany you both.” At the doorway I heard a discreet throat clearing.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance?” said Mr. Ayers. “It would be my distinct pleasure to escort Miss Proulx anywhere she would wish to go.”

“How kind of you to offer, Mr. Ayers. We would be delighted to accept your offer, wouldn't we, Ruby?”

“Find an excuse.”
The voice practically shouted in my left ear. But nothing whatsoever came to mind. With a heavy feeling I could only force an insincere smile to my face and mutely nod.

“That's settled, then. I'll just ring the Yanceys and invite Lucy.”

•   •   •

N
ot only was Lucy eager to accept Honoria's invitation, she arrived only a short time later carrying a large white carton tied up with string. Ben relieved her of it as soon as she stumbled through the door.

“Would you make sure this ends up in Miss Proulx's room?” she asked, holding out the box. He nodded and slipped silently up the stairs, carrying the parcel himself.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Come and see,” she said, tugging me by the hand as we followed in Ben's wake.

We mounted the stairs, tripping and giggling. Mrs. Doyle appeared at the bottom and scowled up at us, I assumed on account of all the noise. But she didn't scold us, so we grew even sillier and noisier as we rounded the bend in the staircase at the first landing. By the time we arrived at my door we were both breathless and I had almost forgotten to dread the evening ahead with Mr. Ayers.

The box sat on the bed, and Lucy flung herself down beside it.

“What a wonderful room. It's like a tree house.”

“I've been trying to think just what this reminded me of. Like being in the book
The Swiss Family Robinson
.”

“Only far more luxurious.” Lucy ran her hand over the coverlet. “I've been in and out of this hotel all my life but I've never been in here before.”

“How did you know where it was?”

“Because I'm nosy, silly. Whenever we visited as children, Yancey and I would sneak all over the hotel, opening doors and looking inside the rooms. This one was always locked. When I asked Mother about it she said we mustn't ever try to sneak in here because it was being saved for Delphinia's return.”

“Honoria told me it had been kept just as my mother left it.”

“I'm glad it was. The only thing I would possibly consider changing is the clothing in the wardrobe. Do you have any
scissors?” Lucy plucked at the string on the box. I went to the vanity and opened the top drawer. As I looked in I heard the voice whispering in my ear.

“Is all as it should be?”

I couldn't say why exactly, but I had the sense that the gloves and hair ribbons were not exactly as I had left them. Try as I might I couldn't be sure. I retrieved the scissors before Lucy could ask if something were amiss. I had no desire to change the tenor of our visit.

With a deft snip she sliced through the string, then lifted the lid. The sea breeze ruffled folds of tissue paper and I caught a glimpse of deep amethyst silk. Lucy held back the rustling sheets.

“Go on. Lift it out,” she said. My hands trembled at the smooth, cool feel of it as I raised one of my mother's gowns and held it against my body.

“I don't know what to say.”

“Say you'll try it on this instant,” Lucy said. She jumped up and began to undo the hooks at the back of the gown I was wearing. “I'll play lady's maid, shall I?” Before I could say anything at all she had the old gown off me and the newly made-over one spread out for me to step into. As I slid the smooth drape of it up over my arms I felt like bursting into tears. It was too much.

“I cannot believe your mother could make such a drastic change in so little time.” I twirled to and fro in front of the long mirror set into the wardrobe. “She's a miracle worker.”

“She'll be delighted to hear you are so pleased with it. It looks as though it was made just for you.”

“It makes me almost look forward to this evening.” I spoke without thinking, and realizing how rude that must sound I clapped a hand over my mouth.

“Is it my company?” Lucy's tone was light but her eyes looked sad. It occurred to me she had perhaps wanted a friend as much as I.

“I assure you, it is not.” I sat on the bed, hoping I wasn't crushing the gown, and motioned for her to join me. “May I confide in you?”

“That sounds serious,” Lucy said. The twinkle was back in her eyes and I knew I had done right to risk sharing a bit of my worry with her, even though I wasn't being entirely truthful about my relationship with Mr. Ayers.

“Honoria accepted Mr. Ayers's offer to accompany us without asking if I wished to encourage his attentions.”

“And you do not.”

“There is no one I would rather encourage less.”

“Is he making determined forays in your direction?” Lucy's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Unceasingly. But I feel I mustn't offend a guest in my aunt's hotel.” I sighed. “I am in quite a predicament and I fear something as social as dancing might serve to fan the flames of his intentions.”

“Leave him to me. I will make it my mission to keep him so occupied all evening he hasn't the time to disturb you.”

“You would do that for me?”

“Of course I would, silly. What are friends for?”

BOOK: Whispers Beyond the Veil
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