by T. H. Hunter
And yet, I could not think of a single person who would have had a motive for killing her. It was true that almost everyone had hated her father. However hard I racked my brains, however, I couldn’t think of a single incident in which one of the guests had shown the slightest bit of hostility toward Anita Brown. Some of them had moaned about the breakfast, though that was hardly grounds for a complaint let alone murder.
“Perhaps it was Mr. Brown himself,” said Val, as soon as we were back in my room. “He could have killed her and then faked the entire thing afterwards. You know he was mad about her seeing Williams.”
“Wouldn’t he have killed Williams, then, instead?” I asked. “It was him he disapproved of, not his own daughter. Not as far as we know, anyway. No, I think there must have been another reason. A disappointed lover, perhaps. Or some business problems.”
I quickly filled them in on Mr. Brown’s contributions to the committee. And how he had immediately cancelled them as soon as his contract allowed.
“So that’s how he got the island,” said Barry, more to himself than anyone else. “I was wondering how such a person managed to acquire it.”
“Do you think Mrs. Highgarden might have been capable of such a thing?” asked Val, turning to me.
“She’s certainly passionate about the committee. I think she might do anything if she thought it would save a couple of more lighthouses across the country. But why kill the daughter?” I said.
Val pondered the question for a while.
“Perhaps to put pressure on him, to convince him to stick with the committee,” said Val.
“If so,” said Barry, “Mrs. Highgarden doesn’t know him at all. From what I’ve seen of him, he’ll certainly not change his mind now after what happened.”
“Yes, it doesn’t make sense,” I agreed. “Who knows, it might turn out to be Dr. Linton trying to frame her. To try and get his old position back. That’d probably be even likelier than her. But it’s all conjecture and guess work.”
“Yes,” said Barry thoughtfully. “What we need is hard evidence.”
“True,” I said. “You know, it’s quite strange that something like this should happen on the island again.”
“What do you mean, again?” asked Barry.
I told them all about the double murder in the lighthouse that Patrick had told me about. Barry raised his eyebrows, while Val looked horrified.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” said Val.
“Join the club,” I said. “Anyway, did you find out something while I was cooped up during the meetings?” I asked hopefully.
“Nothing much,” said Val. “Sorry, Amy. We went to the lighthouse but the doors were locked. Barry tried to get in through one of the windows, but they’re all sealed. It’s as if they don’t want anyone to go in there.”
“Brown doesn’t want anyone to go there,” I said. “And his daughter knew about it. She said so before breakfast. Or at least, indirectly. She got all nervous when I mentioned it. Whatever he’s hiding in there, it might be the key to his daughter’s death.”
“We still have Mrs. Haughton, too,” said Barry. “We need to find out whether she really is a natural heb clairvoyant or not.”
“But she was proven right,” I said. “What good will that do now?”
“If she was right about the death, she might have even more information, buried in her unconscious. Something she overheard or saw. If we can tickle that out of her, we’ll be able to move forward.”
“And how exactly do we do that?” asked Val.
“Through magic, of course,” said Barry, puffing up his chest. “I have prepared a series of spells for you, Amanda. It’s just as well. I think you haven’t used your wand all trip. You need to keep practising if you want to become a first-class witch.”
“Alright,” I said. “But we’d better do it tonight. I don’t want to wait for too long. If there really is a killer on the island, we’ll have to be on our guard at all times.”
“Yes,” said Barry darkly. “Especially when he finds out that we’re on his tracks.”
***
With no time to be lost, we prepared for our visit to Mrs. Haughton that very evening. As I perused his list, the charms and spells Barry had prepared were very complicated indeed. They amounted to a series of tests that would hopefully provide us with the answer we were looking for, though I wasn’t sure how much additional information she would provide us. Still, until Dr. Linton had examined the body, it was the only promising course of action open to us at the moment.
We sent out Barry to scout out where Mrs. Haughton had her room. Meanwhile, the weather was getting a lot worse. The brief sunshine of the midday had given way to clouds that looked like harbingers of a storm. I tried to check the forecast on my phone, but the already weak signal was now gone entirely.
At last, Barry returned.
“The coast is clear,” he said, smoothly trotting over to the sofa and leaping onto it. “Mrs. Haughton has just finished cleaning the dining room. Her own room is on the ground floor, at the back of the corridor. We’ll have to be careful, though. Mr. Brown has his sleeping quarters there, too.”
“Let’s just hope he’s tinkering away in the lighthouse when we go down,” I said. “Are you ready?”
They were, and so we silently made our way downstairs. We were just about to enter the downstairs corridor when Dr. Linton suddenly came in through the front door. Judging from the smell, he had been outside for a smoke.
“Oh, hello,” he said, looking immensely relieved all of a sudden.
“Hello Dr. Linton,” I said. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, yes. I just thought it might have been Mr. Brown. He’s in a terrible mood, as you might imagine. Shouted at me for the best part of twenty minutes. Quite understandable, of course. Terrible to lose one’s daughter at such an age. At any age for that matter. It’s not the natural order of things, you know. Parents should always go before their children.”
“What was Mr. Brown angry with you about?” I asked.
“I wanted to examine the body, but he wouldn’t let me,” he said. “Quite strange. All informal, of course. But I would have thought that he of all people would have had an interest…”
“Yes,” I said, frowning. “Did he give a reason for doing so?”
“I believe the phrase he used was that I shouldn’t ‘meddle in affairs that didn’t concern me’. And if he takes that kind of attitude, indeed I shan’t. Well, I’ll see you all in the morning.”
“Goodnight, doctor,” I said.
We waited until he was out of earshot. This entire affair was developing faster than we could keep up with. Why had Mr. Brown prevented Dr. Linton from examining the body? What was Mr. Brown trying to cover up? All questions that would have to wait until later.
“Almost there,” Barry said softly.
We had reached the end of the corridor by now. Next to a broom cupboard was Mrs. Haughton’s room. I knocked softly on the door. There was a pause, then the sounds of heavy feet approaching the door followed. Slowly, it was opened from the inside.
“Yes?” asked Mrs. Haughton, who was no longer wearing her uniform but a long black dress and a white blouse.
“Sorry to disturb you at this time, Mrs Haughton,” I said. “Only, it’s rather urgent. It has to do with Anita Brown’s death.”
She looked taken aback.
“Of… of course,” she said. “How can I help?”
“We need to talk to you. In private, if that’s possible,” I said.
“Please,” she said pleasantly. “Come in.”
I think she was slightly surprised that the cat promptly entered the room but decided to say nothing. I had my wand at the ready in my handbag, just in case.
Mrs. Haughton’s room was quite small, sporting a bed, a wardrobe, a table, and two chairs. Her nightgown had been placed in an orderly fashion on her bed in preparation for the night. There were no pictures on the walls, n
or photographs of loved ones. I had the strong impression that she was an elderly spinster.
“I don’t usually entertain,” she said, sounding peculiarly formal. “But please, have a seat.”
She sat on the edge of her bed while we sat on the chairs. On Barry’s instructions, Val had copied the spells I was to use on a sheet of paper. Sitting so close to her, and with every movement visible to her, I was having trouble finding the right moment to cast the first spell. I gave Val a desperate look.
“What?” she whispered.
I inclined my head ever so slightly in the direction of Mrs. Haughton, who was looking at us as if we were mad.
“How exactly can I help you?” she said, suspicion rising in her voice.
I had no choice but to continue the conversation. As secrecy protocols dictated, it was important that she remembered nothing connected to magic. Otherwise, we’d be in deep trouble.
“Did you notice anything peculiar about Anita Brown?” I asked. “Before she died, I mean.”
Mrs. Haughton put a finger to her mouth, thinking for a while.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think so. She was always under pressure when running the hotel, of course. Mr. Brown isn’t much help, I’m afraid, and we usually don’t get so many guests at once. Not at this time of year, anyway. Just the odd bird-watcher normally. But no, I don’t think there was anything out of the ordinary at all. Nothing.”
“Do you know anyone who could have wanted her dead?” I asked.
After a sharp intake of breath, she held her hand to her mouth in surprise.
“You don’t mean… that she was murdered?”
“That is what Mr. Brown seems to believe,” I said.
But Mrs. Haughton shook her head.
“No, that’s impossible. She was a sweet and hard-working girl.”
“Did she get on well with her father?” I asked.
“Of course. As far as that was possible. He was… is a very angry man. The drink got to him, you know.”
Val, I noticed, was getting restless beside me. I could tell that something was bothering her. She got to her feet and walked across to the other side of the bed in order to draw Mrs. Haughton’s attention away from me.
“Mrs. Haughton,” she said suddenly. “Do you have any family?”
Mrs. Haughton turned around in surprise.
“Why, no,” she said. “I don’t see how that is…”
I understood immediately what Val was trying to do. At that moment, I took out my wand out of my handbag and cast the first spell. A minor freezing spell designed to knock out the target for a few minutes. There wouldn’t be any lasting damage.
“Frigus,” I murmured, waving my wand in the shape of a half-moon.
Immediately, a torrent of ice shot out of the tip of my wand. It enveloped Mrs. Haughton entirely, sending her toppling backwards onto and then over the bed. Luckily, Val was standing at exactly the right spot and was able to catch her by her shoulders before she fell to the ground.
“Amy, what are you doing?” hissed Barry. “That spell was much too strong. D’you know how dangerous that is?”
“I… I didn’t mean to…” I spluttered, horrified that I had almost knocked her to the floor. “I didn’t do anything special… I…”
“When you two have finished, would you mind helping a sister out over here?” said Val desperately, who was only just about to hold Mrs. Haughton. “She’s a bit heavy.”
I quickly got up, and together we heaved her back onto the bed. Barry perched himself on the nightstand, while Val and I each took a chair, and placed ourselves at either end of the bed. The procedure, as Barry had told me, would take a while.
“You put far too much into that last spell again,” Barry said.
“I’m sorry. But I didn’t do anything differently,” I protested. “I’ve tried this one at home, and it’s always worked out before.”
“Then how do you explain that she almost hit her head on the other side of the room?” asked Barry. “And by the looks of it, we’ll be lucky if she’s conscious in an hour or two.”
“An hour?” I said, exasperated. “We can’t wait that long.”
“It’s reversible,” he said simply.
“How?”
“By magic, of course. I put the counter-spell on the list, just in case. You can be grateful that I practice magical prophylaxis, you know. You haven’t been practising enough.”
“Alright, alright,” I said. “Don’t push it, Barry. So, what next?”
“Well,” he said, pondering the issue. “Now that it’s happened, we may as well discuss the rest of the spells. Make sure not to make the same mistake twice, Amanda, otherwise they might have long-term effects that aren’t as easily reversible. And you don’t want to be explaining that to the Spellcasters’ Association, believe me. What we’re doing is already borderlining on the illegal if we cannot prove that a magical crime has been committed.”
“OK,” I said. “Keep your whiskers on. Something’s different, that’s all.”
“You have the same wand, I presume?” he said coldly.
“Of course I do,” I said, holding it up for him to see. “But I’m telling you, I didn’t do anything differently.”
He raised his left eyebrow.
“You are the only variable, Amanda,” he said.
“I’m telling you, I know what I felt. Something is different,” I said stubbornly. “Now, let’s get on with it.”
“We need to unfreeze her next,” said Barry, deciding to drop the matter for the time being. “And then we quickly place her into a state where she is receptive. If we are lucky, we’ll be able to get her into a clairvoyant condition.”
“If we are lucky? I thought this plan was iron-clad, Barry,” said Val.
“It’s our best bet,” I said, trying to avert an argument. “Let’s move on.”
I checked Val’s list for the next spell I had to cast after reverting the effects of my faulty freezing charm.
“Aestus,” I said, making a quick flicking movement with my wand.
Immediately, Mrs. Haughton began to shift in her bed. Once again, the spell’s effect had been somehow – mysteriously – magnified. Her eyes were slowly opening now. There was no time to lose.
“Placatio,” I said hastily.
There was a moment of silence. Val carefully leaned over to see whether Mrs. Haughton was still conscious or not.
“You’ve sent her to sleep, Amy,” said Val, giggling slightly.
“Sorry, I just don’t know what’s going on,” I said. “I know these spells. I’ve cast them before,, but they’ve never turned out like this at all.”
“Well, you’re still a novice with,” said Barry unhelpfully.
“It’s not because of that,” I said angrily. “I tell you, something’s different here. Maybe it’s her. Or the island. I don’t know what.”
Val and Barry exchanged doubtful looks. I was furious at them for their disbelief, but I wasn’t going to argue the case any longer – especially when we could be caught in Mrs. Haughton’s room at any moment by Mr. Brown or one of the guests.
“So, what do we do now?” I demanded.
“Sleeping is actually not as awful for our plans as one might imagine,” Barry said. “It’s a state of intense relaxation, so that might actually help in the long run. We’ve got to ease her out of it – gently, mind you. Then we can try to initiate a clairvoyant state with the Sight charm.”
I concentrated hard on her, trying to put as little force behind my spell as possible. A waking charm was normally very easy, though if overdone it had could have extreme consequences. Even worse ones than the unfreezing charm I had performed before. I lifted my wand and pointed it at Mrs. Haughton.
“E somno excites,” I said softly, twirling the wand gently in my hand.
Despite my efforts, Mrs. Haughton was waking up much faster than I had intended, so I lifted the spell almost instantly. She looked very relaxed, though dazedly so. Her
eyes were opening gradually now.
“Transis,” I whispered quickly.
Her eyeballs rolled upward, so that we could see only the whites of her eyes for a moment. As they slid back to their normal positions, I noticed that her pupils were dilated. Her breathing had slowed so much that at first I thought it had stopped entirely. Despite my wand’s insistence on casting every spell at tripled power, I had succeeded in placing her into a receptive state.
“And now?” a thoroughly relieved-looking Val asked Barry.
“We ask her questions,” he said. “She won’t remember anything consciously in this state.”
I nodded to Val, who leant forward.
“Mrs. Haughton, was Mr. Brown killed or was it an accident?” she asked, trying to speak as clearly as possible without being too loud.
At first, Mrs. Haughton didn’t react. But then, she began to murmur.
“Anita Brown. Death on the island…”
“Mrs. Haughton,” I said. “Was it murder?”
“Death… on the island…”
We tried multiple times but it was to no avail. Mrs. Haughton wouldn’t or couldn’t tell us anything more about Anita Brown’s death. Even Barry tried multiple times, posing the question in slightly different wording. But each time, Mrs. Haughton would simply repeat herself.
Disappointed, Val slumped in her chair. After waiting for a few more minutes, I tried to ask her again, but with the same result. I was just wondering whether the spell had functioned properly when Mrs. Haughton suddenly let out a gasp.
“The past is the future in reverse,” she said in a much deeper voice. “Father and daughter. Daughter and father. Hatred.”
“Hatred? Mrs. Haughton, was it Mr. Brown?” I asked eagerly. “Did he have something to do with his daughter’s death?”
But again, she wouldn’t respond.
“Well, she’s a clairvoyant, alright,” said Barry. “Notoriously imprecise since the days of Delphi.”
“So you’re convinced it’s the real deal?” asked Val.
“Yes,” he said. “It would be almost impossible to fake for a heb.”
