Murder by Midnight

by Blythe Baker

  “No, I think I will go check on Mama,” I politely declined.

  Vivian tried to persuade me, but I remained firm and got up to leave. As I did, I felt eyes on me, though I did not turn to see if they belonged to Samuel. It didn’t matter anyway. By the time they finished their game, I would be back.

  I heard voices coming from under Lady Drummond’s bedroom door as I passed on tip-toe, praying no one would open the door and find me. As soon as I was far enough away that they would not see me, I broke into a run.

  A chill moved down my neck and back as I approached the door at the end of the hall, but I ignored it, pulled open the door, and mounted the well-worn steps.

  Even though there were no windows in the long hallway, it was easier to see in the daylight. This was mostly due to light filtering through the sizable cracks in the walls and ceiling. As I took in the space for the first time in proper lighting, I was amazed I hadn’t fallen through the floor the night before.

  I picked my way across the floor carefully, avoiding the low spots where the stones seemed to be slipping, and moved towards where I’d seen the flash of movement the other night. I had no idea if I would find anything. I’d come back here to find out if there was a way to explain the movement I’d imagined seeing up here before.

  The further I walked, the more likely it became that I wouldn’t find anything. And I had just resigned myself to that very real possibility when I looked up and saw a pale white gown floating in the air.

  My heart jumped into my throat, and I fell backwards, scraping my palms on the floor in an instinctual scramble away from the ghost. Then, my mind caught up with my actions.

  There was a dress hanging in the air, but there was no one inside of it.

  The long white dress was hanging from a hook on the wall, not floating. And the longer I stared at it, the more I realized it was just a dress. There was nothing otherworldly about it at all.

  So, taking deep breaths to calm myself, I stood up and walked towards the gown, looking around to ensure I was alone.

  The dress was pure white, but as I approached, I could see dark splotches across the hem and the sleeves. The drops could have been mud, but given Alastair’s final words, I had a strong feeling I knew exactly what they were.

  This dress had been worn by Alastair’s murderer.

  There was a deep pocket on the side of the dress, and I dug inside of it for any clue, until I felt a small metal trinket. I pulled it out and turned it over in my palm.

  It was a ring. I slipped it onto my finger and knew immediately it belonged to a man. Even on my thumb, the ring was loose. Then, I noticed the setting on the ring—a gold oval with an elaborate ‘D’ inscribed in the center. ‘D’ for Drummond.

  Surely the ring belonged to Alastair Drummond. Somehow in that moment I knew this was the item that had been stolen from his room.

  Thoughts swirled in my head faster than I could make sense of them. Why would the murderer steal something as trivial as Alastair’s family ring? And why dress as the woman in white to murder him?

  It seemed to me that whoever had murdered Alastair had done so for a deep, emotional reason. That was the only thing that could explain the level of pageantry and the theft of such a sentimental item.

  Then, there was the fact that Samuel Rigby had sent me to this crumbling attic the night before. Was that because he hoped I would fall through one of the gaps in the floor and die or because he wanted me to see the dress. Or both?

  Or, even more sinister, had Samuel planned to attack me up here? Just before I turned and ran into Gordon, I’d heard a door slam shut somewhere in the distance. Had he been the flash of white I’d seen? Had the noise been Samuel coming in to attack? If so, I needed to find that door.

  I dropped the ring back in the pocket of the dress and walked further into the abandoned space. I didn’t have to go far before I found a door set into the stone.

  I pressed my ear to the wood, listening for any hint of movement on the other side. When I heard nothing, I pushed the door open carefully.

  It opened onto a small room. And just a few paces away was another door. This one looked more modern like the doors in the rest of the house. Once again, I pressed my ear to it, listening for any sound at all. And when I heard nothing, I opened it again.

  This time, however, the door opened onto a bedroom.

  There was a small bed in the corner of the room with a warped dresser on the other wall. Simple dark dresses hung in the closet, and I knew immediately I had found my way into the attics where the servants were housed. I had stumbled into a room that undoubtedly belonged to one of the maids.

  I’d seen several of the servants using a stairwell on the opposite end of the hallway to get to their rooms at the end of the night, so I knew they slept at this level. But it seemed only one of their rooms connected to the crumbling part of the castle. What I wanted to know now was who slept in this room?

  I opened the drawers in the dresser, searching for anything that could help me identify whose room I was in, but there was nothing but neatly folded clothes. Then I moved to the closet, where again, I found nothing. Finally, I pulled back the blankets and knelt down next to the bed, bending low to look underneath it. There, I found a small leather journal.

  I slid it out from under the bed and ran my hand across the worn material. Clearly, it was a treasured item. Probably a diary of some kind.

  I unwound the strap and flipped it open, and written on the front page was a name: Hester Adair.

  I replayed the image of Hester and Samuel that morning. He had been warning her about something, frightening her until she was pale in the face and trembling. Then, when I’d asked about the abandoned part of the castle, she’d looked back at Samuel before warning me not to go up there anymore.

  Had Samuel used her room to sneak into the crumbling section of the house to attack me? Perhaps, she discovered the gown somewhere while cleaning and Samuel had somehow convinced the maid to stay quiet about what she’d found? Regardless of how it happened, it was clear Hester was trying to reach out to me. She was trying to tell someone what she knew without putting herself in danger in the process.

  Just then, I heard voices outside Hester’s door.

  As quickly and quietly as possible, I wrapped up the journal, slid it back under the bed, and slipped from the room, going back the way I had come.

  I didn’t linger to see if anyone came into her room or not. I didn’t want to be caught by Samuel if he had decided to use Hester’s room to access the ruined wing again.

  As I passed by the dress, I considered grabbing it and taking it and the ring with me, but instead, I left them.

  Before I touched anything and let Samuel know someone knew his secret, I needed to talk to Hester. I needed to know what she knew.

  16

  I returned to the group of guests only twenty minutes after I left, but it felt like a lifetime had passed.

  I watched Samuel Rigby with renewed focus, searching for any sign of the monster behind the mask. Hester maintained her distance for the rest of the day, not allowing me to see the two of them together or affording me an opportunity to speak with her and organize a time or place we could meet.

  Though I tried to refuse several more times, Vivian eventually pulled me into a card game, and I played poorly, barely paying attention to the rules until dinner.

  Dinner was another uncomfortable meal. Each time I saw the Drummonds, they seemed to appear more despondent than the time before. No one was at ease in their presence, and as soon as they left, the guests gathered in the large sitting room and seemed to offer a collective sigh of relief.

  “Won’t you tell us a story, Sam?” Vivian asked, using the nickname she had taken to using in place of Samuel.

  “Oh, no one wants to hear another tale,” he said modestly.

  My mother, who had taken a break from the lord and lady of the house for the evening, clapped her hands and insisted. “Please, Mr. Rigby. I’m sure we wou
ld all love a distraction.”

  “It would be welcome,” Charles said, sounding surprisingly eager.

  Never one to disappoint his fans, Samuel pulled a chair in front of the fireplace until the flames cast him in silhouette. Only a faint light from the lamps on the wall illuminated the high points of his face, but otherwise, he was cast in shadow. The sight set me on edge.

  “History or legend?” he asked, taking a survey of the room.

  Legend won without contest, and he twisted his mouth to one side in thought, his blonde mustache twitching, before he lifted his finger and nodded. “I have just the tale.”

  I did not hear a word of it, however. As soon as Samuel began his story, the servants who had been moving around the house doing their nightly chores stopped to listen, as well.

  They began to gather in the doorways and in the dining room within earshot of the story, and I couldn’t stop myself from scanning their ranks in search of Hester. Finally, after several minutes, she appeared in the back of the crowd, her red hair catching my eye.

  Luckily, my position at the edge of the room allowed me to stand up and slip from the sitting room with relative ease. If Samuel Rigby noticed, there was nothing he could do to stop me without halting his story and drawing the attention and suspicion of the entire room. So, I slipped between the maids and moved to stand next to Hester in the back of the room.

  “I know you know something,” I said earnestly.

  Hester shifted her position and lifted her chin, though I could see the fear in her eyes. Her gaze was locked on Samuel Rigby, and I wanted to tell her she didn’t have to be afraid. Though, I didn’t know if that was true.

  “You can talk to me,” I said.

  Her jaw clenched, and then she turned to me, her voice so soft I almost couldn’t hear her.

  “Meet me tonight. In the trees near the stables,” she whispered.

  My heart began racing, and I moved my hand across the small space between us and grabbed her wrist. “Is this about Alastair?” I asked.

  “I’ve said too much already,” she hissed, casting her gaze around to be sure no one had overheard me. “I’ll explain everything tonight.”

  Then, the girl turned on her heel and rushed away.

  Sitting through the remainder of the evening, listening to Samuel Rigby regale the guests with story after story, felt like torture. I wanted nothing more than to find Hester and get the answers I so craved. Finally, however, Samuel told the group he was tired and people began to disperse, retiring for the evening.

  I walked up the stairs with my mother, her arm wrapped through mine.

  “Lord and Lady Drummond have had an update from the authorities, who are confident they are close to solving the case,” she said. “There have been a string of break-ins at nearby estates, and they think they may have caught the man responsible.”

  I nodded and tried to smile convincingly. There was no point in telling her yet that whatever burglar the police may have caught, he was not our killer. “That is welcome news, I’m sure.”

  “Yes,” she said, squeezing my arm. “For the Drummonds and us. We may be able to leave soon.”

  If all went as planned at my meeting with Hester, then my mother was right. We would be going home very soon.

  When I was alone in my room, I didn’t change into my nightgown. Instead, I paced the floor, waiting for everyone to go to sleep.

  It felt like days since I’d had any true rest, and I could feel exhaustion fraying the edges of my mind, but I pushed through it. I needed to talk with Hester. I needed answers.

  I saw through the crack under my bedroom door when the lights in the hallway were doused, and I slipped into a pair of sensible shoes to traverse the uneven ground in the dark.

  As I stood up from my bed to continue pacing, however, I glanced out my window and saw a flutter of movement on the lawn. I ran to the glass and looked out, but I did not see anything again.

  It was too early for Hester to already be heading to our meeting location. Unless, of course, she had decided to get there early.

  Either way, I was restless in my room and anxious for something to do, so I buttoned my coat and slipped into the hallway. Yet again, the castle was all too easy to sneak out of unseen. The stone floors did not creak in the same way wood floors would have and since the servants slept in the attic, the first floor of the castle was silent.

  The night was chilly, and I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked towards the stables.

  I tried to stay in the darkness along the base of the house and move from tree to tree to avoid being seen by any of the guests who might still be awake in their rooms. But once I moved beyond the outcrop of trees behind the castle, there was nowhere to hide. Unless, I wanted to cut across the wide expanse of open grass to get to the trees on the other side, I had to simply stay low and move quickly to get to the next stand of trees.

  As I walked, I kept looking over my shoulder for Hester, wondering if she would be coming behind me or if I really had seen her leaving for our meeting spot early.

  The wind was still, given the amount of open land, but there was enough of a breeze to shake the trees and make it difficult to hear anything beyond my own footsteps. So, I kept my eyes open and moved quickly.

  I made it to the next row of trees and then followed the curve of the wooded area until I was out of sight of the castle and headed down the hill that led to the stables.

  Once I saw the stables, I still didn’t walk directly towards them. I didn’t know where the grooms slept or if they would still be inside caring for the horses, so I decided to stick close to the tree line until I could be certain of truly being alone.

  Suddenly, however, there was a break in the trees—a sudden dip in the line where the trees pushed back several feet and a small, shadowy clearing opened up.

  And there, in the middle of that clearing, stood the woman in white.

  When she looked up at me, I couldn’t see her face. Instead, there was a black hole, yawning open as though it was a portal to the other side.

  A fear more powerful than anything I’d ever felt tore through me. I stood frozen, pinned to the spot, unable to move or breathe or scream.

  Then, she took a step towards me and moved into a small shaft of moonlight breaking through the trees.

  And I saw the truth.

  “Hester.”

  The word was little more than a breath, a sigh of relief, almost, that the young woman in front of me was human and not a ghost. She was the maid I’d spoken to earlier in the evening, now covered in what appeared to be mud—a crude, hasty disguise.

  Her red hair was still tumbling free, and I realized I had interrupted her in the middle of readying herself.

  She’d come out to the meeting place early to prepare, to put on her disguise as the weeping woman in white and meet me in the woods. Because that had been her plan, after all. To attack me in the woods. To kill me the same way she had killed Alastair. I could see it all now.

  Alastair’s final words of a weeping woman in white had been in earnest. In her disguise, he didn’t recognize Hester. He’d seen nothing but a pale, haunting figure. But why?

  “Why are you doing this, Hester?” I asked.

  “Everyone knew you were snooping around, asking questions about Alastair’s murder,” she said. It was almost strange to hear her voice come from the terrifying figure in front of me. Even though I knew it was Hester, her disguise really was convincing. “You made it all too obvious that you saw yourself as the heroine in a detective novel. Most people thought you were wasting your time. Only I knew how close you were getting.”

  “You were in the ruined part of the castle the night I went up there,” I realized, the true events of that night becoming organized in my mind. “You slammed the door.”

  “I was going to dispose of the costume,” she said, lifting her head and stepping towards me. The same shaft of moonlight that had been on her face caught a glint of silver in her hand.


  A knife.

  “But then I heard footsteps, and I ran back into my room, thinking it might be Samuel Rigby. I didn’t know who it was until I heard you scream.”

  “Samuel Rigby,” I said softly, mostly to myself. “He suspected you.”

  “He knows the castle better than a lot of the people who live in it,” she said. “He discovered which room was mine and knew I had access to the ruined wing no one else ever entered. He didn’t have any evidence, but he made it clear he was watching me.”

  I shook my head. “Then why did you tell Gordon I was up there?”

  “He found me at the base of the stairs,” she said. “Waiting for you.”

  Waiting to attack me.

  Hester would have done it that night when I made it back down the stairs. Had Gordon not interrupted her, I would have been ambushed.

  “As well as I know the ruined area, I didn’t want to chance it without a proper light,” she said. “And I knew you were running in the other direction. So, I went to meet you. But I was interrupted.”

  She moved towards me again, and this time, I took a step backwards.

  We were isolated out here. I’d been so fooled by Hester’s tears since Alastair’s death that I’d wandered into the middle of nowhere alone with her. I’d put myself in serious danger without much of a second thought.

  Though, I carefully brushed my arm across my coat and was grateful for the bulge in my pocket. Luckily, I’d had at least one second thought.

  Hester knew the castle well. She had lived and worked there for years. She likely knew the grounds just as well. If it came to a foot chase, she would outrun me. And there would be nowhere for me to hide.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked.

  “I told you,” Hester snarled. “You knew too much.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m not asking why you’ve targeted me. I mean why Alastair?”

  Even through the mud on her face, I could see her expression shift. The anger in her eyes changed to sadness, and I wondered whether her tears in the days after his murder hadn’t been real on some level. She sniffled.