The Demon of Mansfeld Manor

by S A Jacobs

  The Demon of Mansfeld Manor

  S.A. Jacobs

  © 2019 S.A Jacobs

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

  Published by Six-String Books

  ISBN: 9781794447677

  Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  I. Relique

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  II. Requiem

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  III. Reprise

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Thank You

  Dedication

  For my wife Jennifer.

  Prologue

  August 31, 1927 – Villa Ortenberg

  The large clock in the main hall began to strike eleven. Ida gracefully stepped out of her parlor and walked down the grand staircase towards the immense double doors. Edgar, her butler, was waiting, a parasol in hand. As Ida got within ten steps of the doorway, Edgar opened the door and stepped out into the bright sunlight, waiting for her to pass. Without a word, Ida sauntered through the door. While the morning sun was bright, she was protected by the parasol in Edgar’s hand.

  The two walked in silence. Edgar moved rigidly as he followed her, anticipating each step. The brisk walk took them down a set of marble steps into an immense garden. The garden path led them to a large lily pond and finally to Ida’s open-air tea house. As the two approached, a maid started pouring steaming hot water into a cup. The beautiful gilded tea service sat alone on the marble table. As Ida and Edgar stepped into the tea house, the maid bowed, then immediately exited, retreating to the main house. Edgar set the parasol into a marble umbrella vase and pulled out Ida’s chair. Once Ida was seated, he put the linen napkin on her lap. As she settled into her seat, he moved to her side where he stood silent and motionless. His hands were clasped together at his waist as he anticipated her next request.

  This routine was precise and perfect. It was always that way. There were never instructions, never conversation. Only silence. The staff knew Ida, not personally, but through her patterns. Ida would never call out to Edgar and ask for tea. Nor would she ask for a walk. Yet, at eleven every morning, the same pattern was repeated. With no words or orders, Edgar would be at the door, ready to shield her from the weather. By the time they arrived at the tea house, her gilded tea service would be out and ready. It was simply the way it was, the way it always was.

  While Edgar would not dare to look at his watch, he estimated he had another forty minutes of standing there motionless until he would again, like clockwork, escort her back to the main house. His mind began to wander. The heat of the morning was beastly. He felt droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. His mind became consumed with them. He was jolted back to reality when he heard her voice.

  “Edgar,” she said.

  “Yes, Madam?” he replied.

  “Please sit down.”

  “As you wish.”

  Edgar silently moved and took a seat across the table from Ida. He sat with impeccable posture as was expected in her presence. The two sat silently for a few moments. Ida eyed him carefully as she sipped her tea. When she set the cup down, she waved her hand in front of her face as if to dismiss Edgar's thoughts.

  “Edgar, please be at ease. I wish to speak freely with you for a moment.”

  Edgar didn’t move. He was filled with nothing short of confusion. He had been employed and lived at the Villa since even before it was completed. In all those times, there was never a moment to be at ease and certainly not one to speak freely without being behind closed doors.

  “What is it?” he finally asked.

  “I am concerned about the Villa.”

  “Whatever is concerning you, please let me know. I assure you that my staff and I will be able to make the needed modifications.”

  “I don’t believe you can.”

  Edgar leaned back and crossed his arms in frustration.

  “If I may,” he said, “for the past seven years while you were abroad, this estate was kept precisely as you wished. Upon your return everything was just as you had left it. Without even a request from you, your meals were prepared exactly as you wished. Even the flowers in your parlor were replaced every day while you were absent in case you were to arrive back. Surely you cannot believe that we cannot make The Villa the residence you desire.”

  Edgar looked at her; her eyes flickered as they transitioned from wild with emotion to grief-stricken. He leaned back in his seat a bit. He immediately feared that he had said too much.

  Ida abruptly smacked her hands on the table.

  “I don’t doubt your abilities or the abilities of the staff for an instant! My concerns are not with the grounds. I fear a much stronger darkness is overtaking the estate.”

  She paused, breathing deeply for a moment to regain her composure.

  “You have been my most trusted confidant for many years,” she continued. “You have seen a great number of the private dealings here at the Villa and never have you given me a reason to even suggest that you have not kept these matters private.”

  “But of course,” he interjected in a much calmer tone. “That is part of my job,”

  “It is, and you have done it impeccably. That is precisely the reason we are speaking now. I have some matters I need to entrust you with. Private matters of the utmost importance.”

  “What is it that you wish me to do?”

  She stared at him quizzically as she leaned back and took another sip of her tea.

  “As I was saying, The Villa is no longer the refuge it once was. This estate is being overtaken by the darkness of my past. It is as if the cloud in the sky will not allow a speck of sunlight to grace the doorstep. This darkness is growing and choking the life out of me and this estate. It is a spiritual darkness if you will. The estate has been cursed.”

  Not sure how to respond, Edgar leaned in closer to at least show that she received one-hundred percent of his attention.

  “I have done everything in my power stop this from happening. I truly have. But I’ve failed. The power over this place is stronger than I am.”

  She stopped speaking and bent down to retrieve her handbag. She withdrew two envelopes and set them on the table. Both envelopes were fine stationery with a yellow hue. The top one was sealed with wax. Edgar recognized the seal. It was the same ‘M’ monogram inlaid on the floor of the foyer. It was the family seal.

  “I am leaving the Villa, Edgar. I am not well, and this darkness is too much for me. I will live out the remainder of my life in the city.”

  A quick realization of where the conversation led filled Edgar with a sadness. Not sadness for the darkness over the estate, but a sadness in feeling as though his life’s passion was now gone.

  “I understand,” he said softly, looking at the envelopes. “I trust this is my severance and reference?”

  “Not at all!” she waved her hand at him. “While I will not be returning here, you are the only one who knows that. You and the rest of the staff shall cont
inue to care for the estate no differently than you have all these years. In fact, I have arranged for the estate to be maintained in this manner even after my death. For as long as the funds are available. There is but one notable exception to the care of the estate moving forward. This is one of the tasks I am entrusting you with.”

  She paused to drink some tea carefully, watching Edgar's expression. True to form, he did not waver.

  “Do not be concerned, dear Edgar. I have also arranged for generous compensation for you.”

  “That is exceedingly kind, Ida, although I must admit I am a bit confused as to what services you wish me to perform.”

  “My apologies. I seem to have gotten sidetracked. First and foremost, after I leave this afternoon, my upstairs parlor is to remain locked. Absolutely no one, aside from you, is ever allowed to enter those doors. You are expected to continue cleaning the room. I only ask that you do so alone and only once a week. All other times, the door is to remain locked with you being the only one to have the key. Additionally, the inner chamber of the parlor is never to be entered again. Nor should its very existence be acknowledged.”

  “But of course,” he replied.

  “Edgar, you are the only one here aside from me that knows the chamber exists. That secret dies with us. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Absolutely!” he said.

  “Finally, there are the matters described here.” She handed him the bottom envelope.

  “Here you will find my final instructions for the estate. As I mentioned, I trust that you will be here keeping up the property long after I am gone. I have made the proper arrangements for the estate to be bequeathed to its proper heir in time. This second envelope belongs to him. However, I am afraid that it will not be for a very long time. I am entrusting it to you to make the final arrangements to ensure it is delivered to him and no one else. When he takes possession of this estate, he will be the only one able to lift this veil of darkness covering the estate.”

  Edgar stared at the envelope a long moment before speaking again. “While I appreciate you entrusting me with this, I must confess I am a bit concerned. Would not these matters be better relegated to Thomas? After all, he is your lawyer.”

  “Absolutely not!” She rose from the table and began to pace. “You’re right. Thomas is a great associate of mine. I entrusted him with all my legal affairs. However, he knows not the truth about the Villa, and I doubt he could even understand it. He is too grounded to see such things. Not to mention his association with Samuel. No doubt Samuel will make every attempt to attain this property despite having no legal grounds based on our divorce agreements. I digress; Thomas is not to have anything to do with these more sensitive arrangements.”

  Edgar hung his head solemnly for a moment and looked at the envelopes she had given him. He looked up at her, his brown eyes glassed over.

  “With this, I have a request of my own,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “That your absence not be permanent. My loyalties are to this estate but also to you. I need to believe that one day this veil of darkness will be lifted, and I will again be able to escort you through these hallowed doors once more.”

  Ida rose to stand behind him. She gently set her hand upon his shoulder and took a deep breath.

  “I have seen the cards fate has dealt to this estate. The darkness will be lifted but not by me. It is no longer my battle to fight. I can only leave the estate in the hands of the one person who can.”

  Part I

  Relique

  1

  “This is just perfect,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

  I was sitting in my tiny cubicle when I overheard a man walk into our office and ask for Mr. James Bauer, my formal name.

  Typically, when someone entered the office not wearing a delivery service uniform, it was obvious they had no business being there and were looking to sell something. I was working for a start-up marketing platform. As a start-up, the company was lean. We had no reason to purchase office supplies or shipping services from any of the suit-wearing salesmen who found their way to our door. The fact that he used my full name only exacerbated the situation as he clearly had no relationship with me. My name was Jim. The last time anyone called me James was on the first day of a class when the professor read the attendance list.

  My job wasn't good. It wasn’t bad. It was just a job. This day was among the many I’d spent hoping for more. It was the Monday following my twenty-fifth birthday. I had no need for a celebration. Still, it would have been nice to be in a real office where I could enjoy my required simple cake instead of replying to the overflowing inbox of emails. I minimized my email screen and stood up from my desk hearing Christine, my co-worker who had the unlucky seat near the door, asking the salesman if he meant Jim.

  “I’m James,” I said walking toward the stranger. “Listen, I don’t want to waste your time. I am sure whatever service you’re offering is great, but we are simply not interested. Even though you happened to find my name listed somewhere, I would ask you to honor the ‘No Solicitors’ sign on the door.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bauer. I have some documents to deliver to you. Is there a place where we can speak?”

  “Uh yeah, there is a conference room over here, but I only have a minute. I’m scheduled to jump on a call in a few.” It was a lie, but a harmless one. I showed him to the nearest conference room.

  The man wasted no time and sat in the conference room unbuttoning his suit jacket. For a moment, I felt self-conscious about my casual jeans and t-shirt. He pulled out a sealed manila envelope from his expensive-looking leather bag and set it on the table.

  “Mr. Bauer, I represent the law offices of Lutz and Hartmann. I was asked to deliver this letter to you. First, I will need to see some identification to ensure you are the intended recipient.”

  In the back of my mind, I considered whether this was some sort of scam. However, his professional manner made me less skeptical. I didn’t hesitate before pulling my wallet from my jeans and handing him my driver’s license. He looked at it, then again at me as if I was buying beer with a fake ID. Then, he handed me the envelope and asked me to sign stating that I received it.

  “Wait, what is this all about?” I asked.

  “I believe all the information you need will be in here.” He patted the manila envelope with his hand.

  “Right, but what is it?” I asked again, becoming agitated at his evasiveness.

  “I’m afraid I cannot answer that. I am here only to ensure that this envelope is delivered to the proper person. As for the contents, that is between you and our partner, Edward Lutz.”

  Wanting this whole exchange to be over, I signed my name and grabbed the envelope. “Well consider your job complete. I trust you can find your way out.”

  I returned to my cubicle and tossed the envelope on top of the random papers that covered my desk. I started to return to my work until curiosity got the best of me. I grabbed the envelope and began to open it. Just then, Paul’s head popped up over the wall of my cubical.

  “What’s all that about?” Paul asked, pointing to the envelope.

  “I don’t know. Some letter from a lawyer.”

  “Aw man, you got served! What is it, some kid you didn’t know about? Are you a baby daddy?”

  “Shut up Paul!”

  I pulled the letter from the envelope and skimmed the contents. “It says I may have inherited something.”

  “Yeah, I get those all the time. Apparently, I am the next of kin to some Emperor in some country I’ve never heard of. But those all come in email, not delivered by some suit.”

  “Yeah, but this kinda feels the same. I have never heard of this person and am damn sure not related to her.” I tossed the letter back on to my desk.

  Paul eyed the letter laying there. “Hartman and Lutz? I don’t think that is a fake.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Man, Hartman, and Lutz. That is some big fir
m downtown, not one of these guys you see on late night TV. That’s the firm you hire when you have a super giant trust fund and get caught doing coke on the dashboard of daddy’s Lambo.”

  “Yeah well, that’s all good, but I still have never heard of this person.”

  “Let me plug her into some public records databases and see what I can find.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Like I have anything better to do,” Paul said, grabbing the papers from my desk. “Seriously, I’m caught up on work. If I’m not doing this, I’ll be wasting my day helping Cedric spy on his family who he thinks is drinking his whiskey. This is way more interesting than a kid sneaking into the liquor cabinet.”

  I sat in Paul’s cube, watching him feverishly type and click through what looked like a thousand windows on his computer.

  “Who said hacking isn’t a great hobby?” he asked.

  The printer on his desk came to life and spat out a page of information. He grabbed it and looked it over before handing it to me.

  “The good news is she was a real person. The bad news is she died a hell of a long time ago, long before you were born. So, I’m not sure how you could be listed as part of her inheritance. But here is her name, specifics, as well as the addresses listed as her property. She owned a lot of property, all of them have changed hands since her death, well except one. In looking at this, I would bet that if you are inheriting anything, it would be that property.”

  Confusion set in as I looked over the paper. She was real, but she had been dead for over eighty years. Something was clearly not right about any of this.

  “To hell with it. There is one way to figure this out.” I picked up Paul’s phone and dialed the number on the letter.

  It rang twice before a cheery woman answered.

  “Law offices of Lutz and Hartmann. How may I direct your call?”

  “Um, hi. I’m calling about an inheritance. I got a letter with this number on it.”