The Castle on Deadman's Island

by Curtis Parkinson

  Walking up the path, the sweet smell of juniper lured them on. The castle’s marble steps led to an immense wooden door, with a heavy knocker in the form of a snarling lion’s head. Just like the lion that signaled the start of MGM movies, Neil thought.

  Graham knocked. They waited.

  As he reached to knock again, the heavy door swung open and they were confronted by a stout formidable woman with a duster in her hand. She frowned and looked past them to where their boat was docked.

  “You’re not allowed to dock here, you kids,” she said. “This is private property.”

  “It’s all right, ma’am, I’m –” Graham began.

  “Go dock over there, on Lovesick Island.” The woman gestured with her chin to another island nearby. “It’s public and there are campsites there.” She started to close the door.

  “But I’m here to see my aunt,” Graham said quickly. “Henrietta Stone. I’m her nephew.”

  The woman turned back. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

  Graham resisted the urge to say he couldn’t get a word in. He waited for her to invite them in, but she continued to block the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her ample bosom. “Miss Stone’s not here.”

  “But she told my mother she would be staying for two weeks. That was just last week.”

  “Oh, she was here all right, but then she left.”

  “When was that, exactly?”

  The woman gave him an exasperated look, making it plain that she wasn’t about to stand here answering his impertinent questions, even if he was the nephew of one of the new owners. That was when Crescent stepped in.

  “We’re sorry to trouble you,” she said, “but it’s important, Mrs…. uh.”

  “Ruff. Ruby Ruff,” the woman said, turning her gaze on Crescent.

  “I know you must have a lot to do, Mrs. Ruff, looking after this magnificent place,” Crescent said, “but we’d really appreciate your help.”

  The woman’s look softened. “Better come in then,” she said gruffly “Can’t talk on the doorstep.”

  She led them down a wide marble-tiled hallway, past a sweeping staircase that could have come out of a 1930s Hollywood musical, to a kitchen the size of a small school gym.

  “Don’t see how I can help you much,” she said, sitting them down at a massive wooden table. Ignoring the boys, she addressed her remarks to Crescent. “All I know is, Miss Stone came last week and she was still here Saturday when they showed up unannounced.”

  “When who showed up?”

  “Why the other new owners, Mr. Grimsby and Mr. Snyder, of course.”

  Graham and Neil exchanged startled glances.

  TWELVE

  _

  “They showed up on Saturday!” Graham exclaimed.

  Mrs. Ruff turned to Graham like he was some dimwit. “That’s what I said, didn’t I? Your aunt seemed surprised to see them too.”

  “I guess she would be,” Graham said. “According to my mother, she came because neither Grimsby nor Snyder would be here and she would have the place to herself.”

  “Did they tell you they were coming, Mrs. Ruff?” Crescent asked.

  “They never tell me anything, those two. Just arrived in a fancy speedboat they rented from Muldoon’s Marina over on the shore. The peculiar thing was, they came together. They usually fight like alley cats, if they’re here at the same time. And if all four are here, it’s even worse. It doesn’t happen often, thank goodness.”

  “Four? There are three owners, aren’t there?” Graham said.

  Mrs. Ruff gave him a withering look. “I was referring to your aunt, Mr. Grimsby Mr. Snyder, and Mrs. Snyder. That’s four, isn’t it? And Mrs. Snyder is the worst of the lot. She acts like the queen of the castle, that one. Thinks she should have it all to herself, I said to my Leonard, and expects her husband to get it for her.”

  “Another Lady Macbeth,” Graham remarked, “egging her husband on.”

  Mrs. Ruff frowned at him. “Lady Macbeth! You hard of hearing? I said Snyder, not Macbeth. And she’s no lady, the way she leads that husband of hers around by the nose.”

  The back door to the kitchen opened and a pale scrawny man in overalls shambled in. He stopped uncertainly when he saw them.

  “Have you finished trimming the hedges yet, Leonard?” Mrs. Ruff demanded.

  “Not yet. There’s miles of them, Ruby,” he pro tested. “How about some lunch?”

  “Later. Can’t you see I’ve got visitors? Go try fixing that outboard.”

  “My husband,” she said, when Leonard shuffled out again, grumbling. “He brings me over in the boat every morning. Sometimes he stays to look after the gardening. Now, where were we, dear?”

  “You were telling us about the others arriving,” Crescent prompted.

  “Oh, yes. Well, they had quite a set-to with Miss Stone. I could hear the shouting from the kitchen. Miss Stone may be a small woman, but she stands right up to those big men. She said they had no right to barge in here without telling her. Snyder said they would come any time it suited them. Then Miss Stone said she couldn’t stand being here with them and if they didn’t leave, she would. ‘Suits us,’ Grimsby said, ‘the sooner the better.’”

  “And when did she leave?” Graham asked anxiously.

  But Mrs. Ruff wasn’t going to be hurried with her story. “By then it was almost time for me to go, so I made a casserole and put it in the oven for them. ‘Glad I don’t have to stay and listen to any more of that,’ I said to Leonard. I was feeling sorry for poor Miss Stone. But then, just as I was leaving, Snyder told me that something had come up and he and Grimsby would have to go back to Kingsport the next day. I thought, thank the Lord I won’t be putting up with those two all next week. It’s no picnic when they’re here, I can tell you.”

  “I’m sure it isn’t,” Crescent said, doing her best to keep Mrs. Ruff talking.

  “So I said to Leonard, ‘That’s a relief – they’re leaving. And Miss Stone must be relieved too. Now she won’t have to go.’” Mrs. Ruff paused. “But I guess she left anyway.”

  “You guess?”

  “Well, she wasn’t here when I came back Monday morning – Sunday’s my day off. The place was quiet as a tomb.”

  “No sign of her?” Graham asked.

  Mrs. Ruff ignored him. “At first I thought Miss Stone must be having her morning swim. She’s some swimmer, that one. Twice around the island every morning, rain or shine. She reminds me of that famous swimmer everybody was talking about a few years back. You know, the one at the New York World’s Fair in 1939. Eleanor something …” Clearly Ruby Ruff liked having someone to gossip with, other than Leonard.

  “Eleanor Holm, you mean?” Crescent said. “She’s a champion swimmer and a movie star too.”

  “That’s the one. Eleanor Holm. Anyway, when she didn’t show up later – Miss Stone, I mean, not Eleanor Holm – I went up to her bedroom and saw that her suitcase was gone and most of her clothes. Then I looked in the boathouse and saw that her boat was gone too – she’d bought a runabout to use when she was here. So I knew Miss Stone must have decided to go away after all. Funny though, she didn’t leave a note. She’s usually pretty good about letting me know her comings and goings.”

  “So you’ve no idea where she went?”

  Mrs. Ruff shook her head. “Just what she told me the day she arrived – when she left here in two weeks, she was going on a long trip. Said she wanted to get away from Kingsport and she’d just keep driving till she found somewhere nice to stay.”

  “But why would she leave so soon? Grimsby and Snyder were going,” Graham put in.

  Mrs. Ruff kept on talking to Crescent as if Graham were invisible. “So I guess we’ll see her when we see her,” she said, “and who knows when that will be.”

  “I don’t believe a word of it,” Graham said.

  That remark finally got Mrs. Ruff’s attention. She turned to him, bristling. “How dare you! I won’t be accused of lying by a you
ng pup still wet behind the ears. I’m a respectable, churchgoing wife and mother.” She got up and seized a heavy cast-iron frying pan.

  Graham prepared to duck, until he saw her slam the frying pan down on the stove.

  “I’m sure Graham didn’t mean it that way, Mrs. Ruff,” Crescent said quickly.

  “Humph,” Mrs. Ruff said, and she snatched a can of beans from the cupboard and a carton of eggs from the fridge.

  “You misinterpreted me, Mrs. Ruff,” Graham said. “Let me rephrase my remark. I don’t believe it likely that my aunt just suddenly upped and drove away, when she’d only been here a week. She isn’t like that. She’s very deliberate, and when she decides what she’s going to do, she sticks to it. No, Mrs. Ruff, I have reason to doubt she ever left. Something must have happened to her while she was here.”

  “What could possibly happen to her here?” Mrs. Ruff snorted, cracking three eggs into the pan.

  “Has anyone checked to see if her car is still where she parked it?” Graham said.

  Mrs. Ruff smiled triumphantly. “First thing I thought of, when I got home on Monday. I called Muldoon’s Marina, where she leaves it, and Clarence Muldoon said her car was gone when he got in on Monday morning. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said frostily, “I have to fry up something for Leonard’s lunch, if I want him to keep working.”

  Crescent and Neil got up to leave, but Graham, they could see, was set to continue quizzing Mrs. Ruff.

  “Not now,” Neil said quietly, and he jerked his head toward the door.

  “What did you do that for?” Graham said outside. “There’s more I need to find out. I was just getting warmed up.”

  “So was Mrs. Ruff,” Neil said. “Not only warmed up, but steamed up. You’re not going to get any more out of her today.”

  “It’s time to start back anyway,” Crescent said. “I told Mom and Dad we’d be back before dark.”

  Graham protested. “But what about Aunt Etta?”

  “I’m sorry, Graham, but we’ve got a long sail against the wind. If we don’t show up, they’ll have everyone out looking for us.”

  At the dock, Crescent got in and prepared to raise the sails, while Neil uncleated the lines. Graham, how ever, remained on the dock, looking back at the castle, frowning.

  “I’m not going,” he said.

  THIRTEEN

  _

  Neil and Crescent looked at Graham in astonishment. “It’s all right,” he said. “You guys go ahead. I’m staying here.”

  “But, Graham, Mrs. Ruff won’t let you stay here,” Crescent said.

  “That’s for sure. Not if she knows,” Graham agreed. “She took an instant dislike to me … I don’t know why – I mean, all I did was ask her a few simple questions. I’ll keep out of sight until she goes home. The thing is, I have a feeling something happened to Aunt Etta when Grimsby and Snyder were here, and I can’t shake it. I hope I’m wrong, but I’m not leaving until I find out.”

  “But Mrs. Ruff said your aunt’s boat was gone,” Neil said. “And the man at the marina told her the car was gone too, so it seems she must have left on her trip.”

  “Possibly,” Graham said, “or else someone wanted to make it look like she’d left. A boat can easily disappear – all you’d have to do is untie it and let it drift away. A car can be made to disappear too. As soon as Mrs. Ruff said that Grimsby and Snyder had shown up here unexpectedly, I thought uh-oh. I’ve got this creepy feeling about last Sunday, when Aunt Etta was here alone with those two. If anything did happen to her, there could be clues somewhere in the castle.”

  Neil was torn. He’d looked forward to sailing back with Crescent, yet he wanted to help his friend. “I don’t know what you’ve got in mind, Graham,” he said, “but I’ll stay if you need me.”

  Graham looked relieved. “I must say, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to searching the castle by myself after dark. I’m the first to admit that I’m not the bravest of souls.”

  Neil put his hand on Crescent’s arm. “If I stay, you’ll have to sail back alone. Do you mind?”

  “It’s all right,” she said, but he could hear the disappointment in her voice. “I’m used to single-handing. You stay and help Graham. But where will you sleep, and what will you do about food?” “Here’s my plan,” Graham said….

  They made a great show of embarking, Crescent calling, “Coming about!” in a loud voice as she tacked back and forth in front of the dock, more than necessary.

  Beside her in the cockpit, Neil and Graham made themselves conspicuous, to be sure Leonard, who was in the boathouse fiddling with the outboard, saw the three of them leaving.

  They cleared the island and turned south to circle it, keeping their eyes peeled for a place to land on the far side. There were no beaches; the most promising place was a sheltered cove with a rocky shore. They dropped the sails there, pulled up the centerboard, and paddled silently in until they were close enough for Neil and Graham to wade the rest of the way, sneakers in hand.

  A smooth gray rock, humped like an elephant’s back, sloped down to the water’s edge. They scrambled up it, then turned and waved as Crescent raised the sails. She was soon out of sight around the end of the island. She’d agreed to come back in the morning to pick them up at the same spot. “And bring something for breakfast, please,” Graham said.

  Now, Neil and Graham sat on the rock in the sun, waiting. There was nothing to do but keep out of sight until they heard the Ruffs’ outboard start up.

  The afternoon passed slowly. Once they heard a voice and hid in the bushes, but it was only Mrs. Ruff calling Leonard. Neil remained watchful, and Graham fell asleep. A chipmunk crept out of hiding and skittered across his chest. From the top of a swaying pine, the raven called to them with one of his many voices, letting them know that he was aware they were still on his island.

  Finally, Neil heard the outboard starting up. He waited until its sound faded into the distance, then he shook Graham. “They’re gone,” he said.

  Graham got to his feet groggily “I’m glad you woke me. I dreamt I met Frankenstein in the cellar and he was about to throttle me.”

  They approached the back entrance to the castle cautiously. When they’d been in the kitchen earlier with Mrs. Ruff, Graham had taken note of the lock on the back door. “A cinch to jimmy,” Neil had said later, when Graham described it to him. “There’s one of those on our back door at home. I can open it easy”

  Neil got out his penknife. It was only a matter of a few minutes fiddling and they were in.

  They stood in the middle of the empty kitchen and looked around. In the absolute silence that surrounded them, Neil grew apprehensive. Was someone or something in the castle listening, waiting for them? He kept these thoughts to himself.

  Graham proceeded to make himself at home, peering in the pantry and in the fridge. “I’m hungry,” he said. He came up with a canister labeled OATMEAL COOKIES from the pantry and a large slab of cheddar cheese from the fridge. “We won’t take a lot,” he said. “Hopefully Mrs. R. won’t notice.”

  They munched on cookies and broke bits off the cheese slab before wrapping it carefully and putting it back. “Okay, where do we start?” Neil said, his mouth full.

  “Let’s find Aunt Etta’s bedroom,” Graham said. “I saw a flashlight in the pantry; we’ll need it soon.” Already the kitchen was growing dim, the brilliant sunlight now blocked by the tall pines as the sun sank in the west.

  “I’m glad there’s two of us,” Graham said, as they started along the hallway that Mrs. Ruff had led them down that morning. Neil felt the same. It was spooky enough when someone was with you.

  Their voices echoed in the cavernous gloom – a rude violation of the castle’s brooding silence.

  At the grand staircase, they stood and gazed up at the landing, where the stairs curved seductively. “Shades of the Roaring Twenties,” Graham mused. “Women in evening gowns and diamond tiaras, pausing there to look down at the men in white tie and tails, wa
iting for them below.”

  “With the sound of the orchestra and the clink of champagne glasses in the background,” Neil added, having watched more than a few Hollywood movies. “I can see it now.” And, for a moment, he even thought he got a whiff of perfume, but the spell passed.

  They took the stairs to the second floor and followed a wide carpeted corridor lined with paintings. “Aunt Etta would commandeer one of the better bedrooms, no doubt,” Graham said. “This one looks promising.”

  He opened a double door, which turned out to be a vast walk-in linen closet, its shelves packed with sheets yellowing with age. “Oh, well, even Charlie Chan, ace detective, is sometimes wrong,” Graham said, and shut it again.

  Farther along, however, they did find a number of large bedrooms – each with its own sitting room, dressing room, and bathroom. In one, Graham, peering in a closet, recognized his aunt’s straw hat. “That’s hers,” he said. “She wears it everywhere. Her favorite summer hat.” He looked fixedly at Neil. “Aunt Etta never goes anywhere without that hat.”

  The closet also held a few dresses and skirts, and there was a scattering of slips, blouses, and underclothes neatly folded in the drawers of an antique dresser. A few toiletries remained in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. There was no sign of a suitcase.

  They sat on the four-poster bed and surveyed the room. “Not a lot of her clothes here,” Graham said. “So either she really did go away and take most of them with her, forgetting her favorite hat, or …”

  “… Or someone else took them to make it look like she’d gone,” Neil finished.

  “Precisely. In which case, where is she?” Graham said. “And what about her suitcase? All we have are questions.”

  “There’s still the rest of the castle to search,” Neil said encouragingly. “Maybe we’ll find some answers yet.”

  “I’m afraid to think about what we might find,” Graham said. He gazed up at his aunt’s wide-brimmed straw hat, with its colorful silk band, sitting innocently on the top shelf of the closet.