The House of Secrets

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The House of Secrets Page 7

by Terry Lynn Thomas


  I felt my ears go hot with shame, as I clenched my hand into a fist and hid it away on my lap. ‘My grandmother thought I had tried to hurt myself.’

  ‘That’s nonsense. I don’t know you very well, not yet, but you are not suicidal. I would stake my reputation on that. You had a dream, correct?’

  I explained to Dr Geisler about the dream of the burning room. How I had rushed to the door and grabbed the brass handle to get out of the fire and into the fresh air. I had awakened from my dream with a painful burn on my hand and no logical way to explain how it got there. I gave him my hand. He unfolded my fingers to reveal the snake-shaped mark there, a pink and puckered reminder of that horrible dream last October.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Exhausted. I don’t believe I’ve been so tired in my life. It’s as if I could sleep for a week.’

  ‘Have you had other visions, Sarah? Since you’ve come here, or before?’

  ‘Only the weeping,’ I said. ‘It started right after the ‘not guilty’ verdict. It comes and goes at random times. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but now I’m certain it’s Alysse. That’s why I take the morphine, so I can control it.’

  ‘It’s Alysse,’ Dr Geisler said.

  ‘I think so,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure what to do here, Dr Geisler.’

  ‘Then let’s not do anything. There’s no need to rush. You should explore this at a pace that is comfortable for you. With your permission, I’d like to document what happened yesterday.’

  ‘Document?’

  ‘I would like to publish a paper about my experiences with you—’

  ‘No. Please.’ I interrupted him before he went any further.

  ‘I won’t use your name. No one who reads my paper will know it’s you.’ He watched me for a moment. He stood and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. ‘Never mind. I can see I’ve upset you. Let’s just take a step back and proceed with caution. I will follow your direction and offer my assistance, should you need it. You will find, Sarah, I am a man of my word. We won’t speak of it again. Carry on.’

  After he left, I worked straight through until eleven-thirty and had just put my completed work on Dr Geisler’s desk when a scream pierced the quietude of my office. I ran out into the corridor and followed the hysterical sounds towards the foyer. Bethany and I met in the hallway. Together we raced towards the noise.

  The screaming turned into a hysterical incantation. ‘No, no. Please. No.’

  Minna. She stood near the front door, a black dressing gown flowing over her bony frame like a witch’s cloak. Her hair hung in wild curls the colour of spun silver. She looked as though she could have raised her arms and cast a spell or hopped on a broom and flown away. Instead she held a piece of paper in her trembling hand. Scattered around her feet were the petals and stems of a desiccated bouquet of roses. A flower box from Podesta Baldocchi lay on its side, tossed away in the chaos.

  Chloe sat at her desk, observing everything, missing nothing, her eyes huge. The maid, a young girl in a uniform two sizes too big, froze, holding the dust rag suspended in mid-air.

  I moved towards Minna, desperate to help her, but Bethany waved me off.

  ‘Minna, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Sarah. Bethany.’ She waved the paper she held in her hand through the air. ‘It’s Gregory. He’s alive.’ Her breathing became heavy and deep. She tore the letter up, threw the pieces on the floor, covered her face with her hands, and wept. Deep racking sobs coursed through her body, threatening to topple her.

  Bethany swept in and put a comforting arm around Minna’s shoulder. She spoke to her in the same sweet, disarming voice she had used on Mr Collins. ‘Come on, dear. Let’s get you someplace safe. We’ll lock the house and make sure that Gregory isn’t here. I’ll see to it personally.’ She spoke to the maid. ‘It’s all right, young lady. Go see Mrs McDougal for a cup of hot cocoa. There’s a good girl.’

  ‘You’ll protect me, won’t you, Bethany? And Matthew. He’ll come for Matthew.’

  ‘Of course,’ Bethany said in a soothing voice. ‘I’ll take care of everything.’

  Minna allowed herself to be led away. The two women made their way towards the staircase, while Bethany muttered comforting words in Minna’s ear.

  Just as they were about to reach the first landing and slip out of sight, Bethany called to me. ‘Find my husband. Tell him to hurry.’

  Before heading off to search for Dr Geisler, I picked up the torn pieces of paper that Minna had thrown on the floor and tucked them into my pocket. I had every intention of finding out the truth about Gregory Geisler.

  * * *

  The frightened maid sat at the kitchen table, waiting for Mrs McDougal to prepare her cocoa. Mrs McDougal fussed over the stove with pursed lips, not accustomed to making cocoa so close to lunch. Dr Geisler came through the kitchen door, pink-cheeked from the cold March wind.

  He took one look at me. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘It’s Minna. Bethany asked me to get you. She received something from Gregory.’

  Dr Geisler flung his coat at the coatrack and missed it altogether. He hurried out of the room, leaving his fine camelhair coat in a heap on the floor.

  ‘Mark my words. That woman has brought nothing but trouble to this house and this isn’t the end of it.’ Mrs McDougal hung Dr Geisler’s coat on the rack by the kitchen door. ‘We may as well have a cup of tea. Then we’ll get busy with lunch.’ She set the young maid’s mug of cocoa on the table. ‘And as for you, I don’t want to hear any gossip about this. You’ll keep your mouth shut, or I’ll dock your wages.’

  Not quite sure what to do with myself after Minna’s outburst, I sat down and took the proffered cup of tea. The maid, whose name was Catherine, turned out to be quite the chatterbox. She spent a good twenty minutes telling us how her younger brother spent his mornings collecting old hot-water bottles and books, which he, in turn, took to the Columbia Park Boys Club. I listened to her words and nodded when she paused, feigning enthusiasm for her brother’s patriotism. My mind strayed to Minna.

  ‘Thank you for the hot chocolate, ma’am.’ Catherine hurried out of the kitchen.

  ‘Are you all right, Sarah? You seem a bit shaken, and any fool could see you weren’t listening to a word that girl said.’

  ‘You should have seen her standing there, Mrs McDougal. She was terrified.’

  ‘You mustn’t let her manipulate you. Lord knows, she’s got Dr Geisler wrapped around her finger, what with the two of them traipsing off to séances and the like.’ She took our mugs and rinsed them in the sink. ‘Come now, let’s start the lunch preparation. Nothing like kitchen work to take your mind off your troubles.’

  True to her word, Mrs McDougal had spent the morning baking four beautiful loaves of bread. Together we prepared the Lipton soup – with Mrs McDougal lambasting the concoction the entire time – and laid the trays for the patients.

  After we had finished, I ate a bowl of soup – it did taste just like homemade – and hurried back to my office, where I locked the door, took out the torn pieces of paper Minna had discarded, and laid them on my desk.

  It didn’t take me long to reassemble the fragments into Gregory and Minna’s wedding invitation, inviting the recipient to share the joy on Saturday, May 6, 1916 at one-thirty p.m., at Grace Cathedral with the reception to follow at The Palace Hotel. I flipped the invitation over and saw what had disturbed Minna so. Individual words cut from magazines had been pasted together to form the simple sentence that had brought Minna to her knees: I am coming for you, my dear.

  Although cruel in its own right, this invitation could have been sent by anyone who knew Minna and Gregory’s history. I had been in Minna’s position, the odd man out in a strange game of circumstance. I too had been judged crazy by my family. I too had been persecuted by the newspapers. For every ten people who hated me for testifying against Jack Bennett, San Francisco’s favourite mystery writer, one kind soul would clap me on the back and applaud my b
ravery. I had Cynthia to thank for that.

  I hurried into Dr Geisler’s office, sat down at his desk, and made a telephone call.

  ‘Sutter 1615.’ Cynthia Forrester answered on the first ring.

  ‘Cynthia—’

  ‘Sarah Jane Bennett, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you. You just disappeared.’

  ‘I’m working at the Geisler Institute.’

  After about three seconds of silence, Cynthia spoke. ‘The hospital on Jackson Street?’

  I explained how I had come to get the job, leaving out the part about Zeke. I didn’t have time to go through all that with Cynthia. Not now. ‘I need your help,’ I said. ‘Do you know how I could look up the society column from 1916? I want to see what the newspapers wrote about a wedding.’

  ‘A 1916 wedding? I can bring you down to the paper and you can look at the old editions – they are on microfilm – or I can take you to meet my Great-Aunt Lillian. She wrote the society column in 1916, and she remembers everything. She’s a bit of an eccentric, but she loves being around young people, so I’m sure she would love to talk to you. Does that help?’

  We made arrangements for Cynthia to pick me up later. We would visit her Great-Aunt Lillian, and I would be back in time for dinner.

  * * *

  I found Minna sitting up in bed with a Life Magazine on her lap. She wasn’t reading it, just thumbing through the pages. She had taken pains with her appearance, but the rouged cheeks and blood-red lips contrasted with her sallow complexion.

  As I came into the room, she set the magazine down, took a cigarette from the silver case next to her bed, placed it in a long holder, and lit it.

  ‘Well, it’s the woman of the hour.’ She blew a cloud of smoke at me, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice. ‘I had no idea you had such a gift, Sarah. Matthew never told me, but that’s no surprise. He’s always been a superior keeper of secrets.’ She ground out her cigarette, tossing the holder on the bedside table, where it rolled to the back and fell behind, out of reach.

  I moved to her bed and sat down. ‘Are you all right?’

  Minna fiddled with the covers on her lap for a moment, her head bowed, as if in obeisance. She raised her head, her eyes hot with fear or madness, I couldn’t be sure which.

  ‘Gregory’s alive. I thought I saw his ghost. Matthew thought – wishful thinking on his part – I was a little bit like you and agreed to help me.’ She picked up another cigarette and lit it. ‘But after seeing you yesterday, the way you slipped into a trance – I couldn’t believe it at first. Now I know for sure, I’m not psychic at all. Either Gregory is alive, or I am losing my mind.’

  ‘Did you ever think that someone could be trying to scare you?’

  ‘Who? Why?’ She shook her head. ‘I know from your trial what kind of woman you are, Sarah. You have a certain type of curiosity that lands you in strange situations and you like to help people. That’s a dangerous combination. I am not like you at all. I don’t care about anyone else, and I make it a point to stay out of other people’s affairs. After I left here, I led a private life, had very few friends and very little social interaction. No. There’s no one who would benefit by harassing me in such a cruel way. But if Gregory were going to harass me, this is the way he would do it. He would wait until I felt safe, until I’d let my guard down, and then he would start to chip away at my sanity.’

  ‘Anyone could have sent those flowers. We can figure this out. I’m going to help you.’

  ‘No. I’m requesting that you drop this. If Gregory is alive, I will deal with him. You’ll just have to find yourself another charity case. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’

  Minna turned off the lamp beside her bed and lay down with her back towards me. Good manners kept me from questioning her further, so I left with more questions than I had when I arrived.

  Chapter Six

  Zeke sat in one of the chairs tucked into the corner of his room. His hair, damp from a recent bath, hung in tendrils around his face. The afternoon sunbeams bathed him in gold, and as always, my heart quickened at the sight of him. He had propped his injured leg on an upholstered ottoman that I recognized from the sitting room downstairs. A book lay open on his lap, but his eyes were closed.

  ‘Can I come in?’ I called out as I rapped on his door.

  ‘Please.’ He placed the worn, leather-bound tome on the table between us. I sat, fidgeted with my skirt, unsure where to start. ‘What’s the matter? You look rather forlorn this morning.’

  ‘I need your professional opinion on something.’ I explained what happened to Minna, the delivery of the dead flowers, and the invitation to the wedding from so long ago. I didn’t leave anything out. Zeke didn’t move, didn’t even blink until I finished speaking. ‘Someone is playing a sick joke on her,’ I said. ‘I want to help her.’

  ‘Why? What has she to do with you? You’ve just met her.’

  ‘Because I’ve been in her position, as you well know.’ I sighed. ‘Please don’t look at me like that. I saw someone following her last night. I came to visit you, but you were asleep, so I just sat for a while.’ A slow smile curled at the corner of Zeke’s mouth. I ignored it. ‘Minna and Dr Geisler were in the courtyard having a very intense conversation. Minna left through the gate, and Dr Geisler stood for a minute watching her before he went back into the house. After he had gone in, the courtyard was dark. I saw someone smoking in the alley, just outside the gate. When Minna left, they followed her.’

  ‘Man or a woman?’

  ‘I couldn’t tell. They stayed in the shadows,’ I said.

  ‘Lots of people walk down that alley. It could have been one of the neighbours.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘We will keep that in mind as we proceed logically. Leaving the possible follower aside for the moment, if you want to investigate like a professional, you’re going to have to explore this situation from all the various angles.’ He winced as he tried to move his leg. ‘Adjust the ottoman, please. Just move it closer to me.’ I did as he asked. ‘Thank you. You mentioned you and Bethany discovered Minna in the foyer, already in possession of the questionable box of flowers and the card, correct?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Since you didn’t hear the doorbell ring, do you think it’s possible she sent them to herself?’

  That scenario hadn’t crossed my mind, but as I replayed the events in my head, I realized that Minna could indeed have sent the flowers herself, or even walked downstairs with them already in her hand, until I remembered Chloe.

  ‘No. She couldn’t have walked downstairs with them already in her hand. Chloe would have seen her. If Minna had the flowers delivered herself, she had to have someone do the actual delivery. I just don’t believe Minna would do that.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘She’s not that cunning,’ I said.

  ‘People do all sorts of things for all sorts of reasons. We know very little about this woman, so you need to keep your mind open.’

  Zeke reached for my hand. ‘Let’s forget about Minna for the moment. Why do you look like you don’t sleep?’

  ‘Right after the verdict was read, I started to hear weeping. At first I thought someone around me was crying, God knows there’s enough sorrow to go around lately. But it didn’t go away. It comes and goes, and I’ve grown used to it. Now I’m convinced that I am hearing Alysse, Dr Geisler’s sister. I wonder if she knew that I would come here and attached herself to me. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I take the morphine drops that Dr Upton gave me, and they help a little.’

  There. I had said what I came to say. I knew what would happen next: Zeke would sit up straighter, and the softness would leave his face, to be replaced with the logical Zeke, the problem-solving Zeke, the Zeke who would not want to be involved with someone like me. I geared myself for the hurt.

  Instead, he rolled my hand over, so my palm faced upward, revealing my scar in all its glory. He kissed it.

 
; ‘Why don’t you try to communicate with her? Find out what she wants. Dr Geisler can help you. He doesn’t think you’re unstable or suffering from hallucinations. He’s been an advocate for you, Sarah, even before he met you.’

  ‘You’ve discussed me with him?’

  ‘Not you, particularly, but a hypothetical situation similar to yours. I’m sorry, but I needed to know how you were. I know Dr Upton has his opinions. I never agreed with them, but I’m not a medical man, and I’m not very objective where you’re concerned. Dr Geisler’s reasoning makes sense somehow. Maybe it’s because I don’t believe the alternative. If I suffered from hallucinations, wouldn’t you want to know why? What would you have done in my position?’

  ‘Dr Geisler came to Jack Bennett’s trial every single day. He sat in the front row of the gallery, clinging to every word I said. He knows it all now, what happened last October, the burn on my hand that everyone thinks I inflicted upon myself.’ I looked at the scar on my palm, the telltale reminder of the events at Bennett House, events that led me to discover my true identity. ‘He wants to hypnotize me.’

  ‘Let him. What have you got to lose? It won’t hurt you.’

  ‘Are you speaking from experience?’

  ‘I am. I spent four weeks in the hospital right after my little mishap. They gave me morphine. It didn’t take long for me to become addicted. Dr Geisler hypnotized me several times. Although I still take something to sleep – you might remember my nightmares – I no longer need the drugs for my pain. Don’t get me wrong, the pain is still there, I’m just able to manage it, live with it. I don’t crave morphine. Dr Geisler saved my life.

  ‘If you are a medium, wouldn’t you want to know? Dr Geisler can help you, Sarah. Wouldn’t you like to not be afraid of your dreams? Wouldn’t you like to live in peace with this ability you have? If Alysse’s ghost is coming to you, let’s find out why. I love you, Sarah. I’ll be with you every step of the way.’

 

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