The Restoration

by J. H. Moncrieff

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m not sure how that has anything to do with me.” God, had Gertrude told someone about their fight? It had gotten ugly at the end. What if she’d decided to charge Terri with assault? She didn’t have the money to hire a lawyer.

  “Can we come in?” asked the cop with the picture. “Relax. We just want to ask you a few questions You’re not in any trouble.”

  “Yet,” added the other one. Okay, she was beginning to really not like this guy.

  She led the way to the parlor, bypassing the kitchen. The parlor was a mess, but it had a clear advantage: no speaking tube.

  “Beautiful house,” Photograph Cop said, and she couldn’t help smiling. Terri had always felt a connection with those who appreciated heritage homes.

  “It is, isn’t it? Glenvale is the finest example of Queen Anne Revival-style architecture in the state.”

  “I’m sure it’s going to be more beautiful when you’re finished.” He had a nice smile, a genuine smile, one that made his blue eyes crinkle at the corners. “What kind of work are you doing here?”

  “Well, I—”

  Gruff Cop interrupted. “This isn’t Better Homes and Gardens. Let’s move on with this, shall we? We don’t have all day.”

  “Don’t mind him. He hasn’t had his coffee yet. Bit of a bear before his caffeine.”

  “Screw you, Molloy.” Gruff Cop glowered.

  “You can sit anywhere you like, but the furniture is antique, so the drop cloths have to stay on, I’m afraid.” Terri gestured at the covered chairs and settees, gratified to see how uncomfortable Gruff Cop looked.

  “I think I’ll stand,” he said.

  “Suit yourself.” Photograph Cop took the chair opposite her and balanced a notebook on his knee. “My name is Officer Molloy, and this ray of sunshine is Sergeant Gates. Can you tell us when you last saw Ms. Phillips? Gertrude?”

  Terri hesitated, noticing that Sergeant Gates was leaning on her every word. She had to tell the truth, even if it got her in trouble. Cops were way better at spotting liars than she was at lying. “Yes, I saw her yesterday.”

  Officer Molloy nodded, jotting the information down on his pad. “What time, do you recall?”

  “Um….” When had Dallas come into Emma’s room? “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think it was around three.”

  “Three a.m.?” he asked.

  She started at the question. “No, three p.m.”

  The two men exchanged another meaningful glance. Enough, already. So she’d had an argument with Gertrude. That was hardly a crime. And they weren’t here to charge her with assault. They’d have done that already. The knowledge made her bold. “What exactly is this about?”

  Officer Molloy looked at his partner, who tilted his head the slightest bit. “She told her mother she was coming here to do some work around midnight. She was supposed to be home hours ago, but she never showed up.”

  “Ordinarily we wouldn’t bother checking into this until more time has passed,” Sergeant Gates added. “Ms. Phillips is an adult, she can come and go as she pleases. But, in this case, her mother’s nurse said Ms. Phillips has never once been late to relieve her. She told the nurse that she was going to visit a friend, but the nurse thought Ms. Phillips acted suspicious when she left, as if she were trying to hide something.”

  Terri felt like she’d been doused with freezing water. “She didn’t come here.”

  “No?” Molloy asked. “Are you sure?”

  “As sure as I can be. Gertrude had ways of getting in the house without my being aware of it. I don’t know how she did it, because she never showed me. So I guess it’s possible she came in while we were asleep.”

  “We?” Gates scowled as if she’d said something offensive.

  “My ten-year-old daughter, Dallas. She’s staying with me.”

  “My daughter is nine,” Molloy said with another megawatt smile. “It’s a great age, isn’t it?”

  “Most of the time. When she’s not acting like she’s thirty.”

  He laughed. “True that.”

  “Look, can we stay on track here? I’m not sure I get why Ms. Phillips would have to sneak in if she worked here. That doesn’t make any sense.” Gates stared at her with an intensity that was unnerving. Terri bet he was the type of cop that scared false confessions out of people.

  “That’s the thing – she doesn’t work here. Not anymore. Miss Vandermere fired her before I was hired, so she’d be the best person to talk to about that. I don’t know all the details.”

  “If she was fired, why would she tell her mother she was coming here last night?” Coming from Gates, it sounded more like a demand than a question.

  What a mess. Why couldn’t Gertrude have left well enough alone? However, truth be told, she’d expected something like this. The woman’s obsession with the house – and Niles – had been too strong for her to let it be.

  “Listen, I don’t know if this is true or not. She wasn’t around long enough for me to learn anything about her personal life, but she told my daughter that her mother is quite ill, and that she’s the only one who can care for her. Maybe she doesn’t want her mother to find out she’s been fired. It could be pride, or because she doesn’t want her mom to worry.”

  “Why was she fired?” Officer Molloy asked.

  “I’m really not sure. Henrietta Vandermere would be the one to ask about that. I can get you her contact info, if you like.”

  He smiled. “Great, thanks. That will save us a little digging.”

  “You know something about this,” Gates said. “I can see it on your face. What is it?”

  Damn him. “It’s just a hunch. I don’t even know for sure that it’s true. Vandermere is the one who could tell you why she was fired, not me. I only met Gertrude twice.”

  “Let’s hear it. Cops understand about hunches. We go by our guts all the time…right, Gates?” Officer Molloy said. His partner grunted.

  Terri mentally crossed her fingers. “Gertrude was obsessed with this house. She has this theory that Henrietta killed Niles.”

  “Niles?” Molloy lifted an eyebrow.

  “Sorry, sometimes I forget that not everyone is embroiled in this mess. Niles Vandermere, Henrietta’s brother.”

  He made a note of it. “How long ago did Niles die?”

  “I’m not sure of the exact date, but it would have had to have been over eighty years ago. I can look that up for you.”

  Both cops looked startled. Gates recovered first. “How old is Miss Vandermere? She’d have to be….”

  “She’s a hundred years old. But she certainly doesn’t look it.”

  “Do you share this theory, Ms. Foxworth?”

  There it was – the million-dollar question. Recalling her nightmare, she shifted on her seat. A dream wasn’t proof, and neither were suspicions in a journal. She met Molloy’s eyes, trying her best to be as honest as possible. “As far as I’m aware, Niles died from complications of his diabetes. He was sixteen years old. Miss Vandermere was a child. I have no reason to believe otherwise. I was hired to restore this house, not play detective.”

  “This is curious. I wonder where she would have gotten this idea,” Molloy said. “So you think this is why Vandermere fired her?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I believe so, yes. When Henrietta first showed me around the house, she told me I might run into Gertrude, that Gertrude was an overly enthusiastic employee. Gertrude came by the house not long after that, and she was the one who told me she had been fired.” Terri had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why did she feel like she was ratting Gertrude out? The woman had been no friend of hers. And there was no way she was telling two police officers Glenvale was haunted and blaming the whole thing on ghosts.

  “Do you believe she came here last night?” Seeing her hesitation,
Molloy added, “Give us your best hunch.”

  “She could have, yes. At around one a.m., I heard a loud crash. It shook the house and woke me up. I didn’t think of it at the time, but it could have been Gertrude.”

  “Did you investigate this sound?” Gates asked.

  Terri shook her head. “No, my daughter had a nightmare at around the same time, and I was busy comforting her. I’d forgotten all about it until now. Plus, old houses make strange noises. You get used to it after a while.”

  Things shift. Radiators clank. There are drafts.

  Gates stood, his beady eyes surveying the room. At least he’d stopped studying her for the moment. “If she is here, it sounds like she could be trespassing. Do you mind if we take a look around?”

  “It’s fine by me, though I should tell Miss Vandermere you’re here. And yes, Gertrude is definitely trespassing if she’s in this house. Henrietta told me that she doesn’t want her around.”

  Another betrayal. But Gertrude had tried to drive a wedge between her and her daughter. Surely she didn’t owe her anything.

  If that was true, why did she feel so guilty?

  “That’s fine. Ask her to come by. We’ll need to talk to her too,” Molloy said.

  “This house has over twenty rooms. Gertrude knew this place as well as anyone, aside from Henrietta. If she doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find her.” Terri remembered how furious the woman had looked when she’d ordered her to leave. The thought of her hiding somewhere in the house was distressing. Why hadn’t she thought of Gertrude when she’d heard the crash? It was a good thing they’d be leaving today. If she stayed much longer, she might become as obsessed as Gertrude.

  “If she’s here, we’ll find her.” Gates gave her a look that felt like it went right through her. “Whether she wants to be found or not.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You’re alive. Now this is a surprise.”

  Cowering from his voice, she tried to scream, but the sound that escaped was a strangled croak. She wriggled her hips faster, pulled harder with her fingers, but it was hopeless. There was no getting away from him, never had been.

  “I must be losing my touch. It’s a shame I can’t have more fun with you. We could have done a few experiments, if only my hands worked the way they used to. I would love to see what you look like on the inside, but I’m afraid you would not be around for that. People tend to die when I cut them open. It’s the strangest thing.”

  He touched her hair and she recoiled, a squeal emitting from her throat. It felt like her mouth was full of broken teeth. There was no use in yelling, even if she could. Terri would never hear her, never come down here. Gertrude had seen Henrietta’s plans – the cellar was not part of the restoration. If she were going to get out of this alive, it would have to be her own doing. She was going to have to rescue herself.

  She focused on her mother’s face. Imagining what would become of Esther if something happened to her kept her going despite the pain and fear. If she didn’t come home, her mother would give up. Or worse, she’d believe Gertrude had abandoned her.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  “What do you think you’re doing, exactly?” Niles sounded amused as he watched her flail, trying her best to escape. “You’re gravely injured. So injured, in fact, that you might find death a relief. Until you end up here with me. Then we will have some fun.”

  Gertrude summoned her will. She spit out a tooth, tasting the copper tang of her own blood. He had done this to her, along with other appalling things she dared not think about right now. Niles, who she had tried so hard to help. She put all her anger, betrayal, and pain into finding the energy to speak.

  “Fuck…you.”

  Rather than have the effect she’d hoped, her words made her tormenter laugh. “Why, Miss Phillips, to hear such language from a lady. I am shocked, honestly shocked. Unless…could that be a request? Have you not had enough of me yet?”

  She whimpered, the threat inspiring her to wiggle faster. She struggled to move her legs, to kick his hands away from her, but her lower body was still pinned. Though it had taken every last ounce of strength she had, she hadn’t made much progress.

  “It’s too bad you can’t clean yourself up. You are a tad foul, even for my liking. However, I’ve never minded getting dirty.”

  As his hands ran over her body, the revulsion made her voice return to her, and she did scream. It sounded garbled, like she was screaming underwater.

  “Silly woman. Who do you think is going to hear you? These walls are solid stone. Besides, the Foxworths are hardly on your side. You’ve burned that bridge, don’t you think? They would be delighted to see you like this, absolutely delighted.”

  It wasn’t true. They’d had their differences, but Terri and Dallas were good people. They wouldn’t be happy to see this happening to her.

  “They…hate…you.”

  “Do they? Perhaps they do. I haven’t given it much thought, to tell you the truth. What other people think of me has never been a great concern.” Niles spoke the next words into her ear, and she quailed at his nearness. “It’s what I think of them that matters.”

  This time, her scream got a response.

  “Ms. Phillips? Gertrude Phillips?”

  She felt Niles leave, and that was enough to rekindle her strength. She screamed again, her throat burning, her voice hoarse. She didn’t care. She would scream until she died.

  “Hang in there, Ms. Phillips. We hear you.”

  The tinkling of broken glass. “Can we get some light down here? It’s blacker than a cat’s asshole.”

  Gertrude wiggled as fast as she could, using her fingers to finally pull herself forward over the threshold. If she remained trapped in the crawl space, they’d never find her. She couldn’t be there when Niles returned. She had to escape.

  Finally, she felt a release as her legs pulled free of whatever had been holding them. More glass broke behind her as she moved, and it was much louder than the noise her rescuers were making. It was better than a scream.

  “Christ, what’s that smell? Did something die in here?”

  Yes, she wanted to yell. Many things had died in here, but she wouldn’t be one of them. Not anymore.

  When she saw the lights of her rescuers, she began to cry. It was over now, almost over. She had no more screams left, but she made as much noise as she could, managing to wave one of her arms in the air. It was weak, as far as waves went, but thankfully, it was enough.

  “Jesus Christ. Ms. Phillips?”

  Yes. It was getting impossible to speak, but the man seemed to understand her. She felt a gentle touch on her head. “Molloy, call for an ambulance. And tell them to hurry.”

  * * *

  Light rain fell as their sad little group waited on the veranda, watching as the paramedics rushed Gertrude to an ambulance. There had been so much medical equipment and people around her that it was impossible to tell what state she was in, but Terri had seen a lot of blood. Gertrude’s hair appeared to be soaked with it.

  Dallas clung to her, and when Gertrude was wheeled past, she buried her face in Terri’s side. “Is she going to be okay, Mom?”

  “I hope so.” Why hadn’t she investigated that crash? Why hadn’t she called the police then? She should have suspected there was someone in the house, should have figured it would be Gertrude. She’d never forgive herself if the woman didn’t make it.

  Seeing Molloy, she left her daughter long enough to go over to him. “Is she going to be all right? What happened to her?”

  The cop grimaced, and she saw the truth of Gertrude’s condition in his eyes. “I can’t tell you for certain. It looks like she was involved in an accident in the cellar. Some shelving fell on her, and the…contents hit her pretty hard. She’s also suffering from hypothermia. I’m not going to lie to you, Ms. Foxworth. Sh
e’s in bad shape. If she’d been down there too much longer….”

  “Will you – will you be the one notifying her mother?”

  “I believe so.” Molloy shook his head. “Worst part of the job.”

  “Please don’t tell her Gertrude was fired. You don’t have to tell her that, do you?”

  “I suppose not. It’s not relevant at the moment. But why?”

  “Gertrude had her reasons. Maybe it was pride, or not wanting her mom to worry. Whatever the cause, she didn’t want her mother to find out. Let’s do that for her, at least.”

  “Okay, you have my word.”

  “Thank you, Officer.” Terri turned to walk back to her daughter when Molloy called after her. “Yes?”

  “I notice Miss Vandermere has arrived.” He gestured at the elderly woman, who was hurrying in their direction. “Please ask her to hang around for a bit. We have a few questions for her.”

  Terri shivered. She’d been hoping to be far from Glenvale before Henrietta showed up.

  Vandermere appeared to be in far better shape than the rest of them, which was surprising, considering her relationship with the victim. But, then again, perhaps not so much, given their contentious history.

  “I warned her,” Henrietta said. “I always told her that her obsession with this house would be the death of her.”

  It was an unfortunate expression for the old woman to use. Terri couldn’t think of a thing to say in response. She had a hard time imagining anyone could be that insensitive. From what Molloy had told her, Gertrude might actually die.

  “I can’t imagine what she was doing in the cellar, but I’ve been told it’s a godawful mess down there.” Her face contorted. “I suppose I’ll have to pay for someone to undo whatever damage she did. I rue the day I hired that girl.”

  “With all due respect, Miss Vandermere, Gertrude may not make it. Whatever mess she made, whatever grief she caused you, she doesn’t deserve to die.”

  Henrietta waved a hand, dismissing her. “Of course she doesn’t deserve to die. Who would suggest such a preposterous thing?”