Whispers Beyond the Veil

by Jessica Estevao

  “What’ve you got there, boss?” Frank had managed to shake Jelly Roll and, still yawning, fetched up beside him.

  “Looks like it might be the murder weapon. A length of cord is a very handy thing to strangle someone with if you haven’t a great deal of strength.” Yancey tucked the cord into his jacket pocket and leaned back against the seawall to think.

  “Finding the murder weapon is a good start, isn’t it?” Frank’s sleepiness fled from his face, replaced by widened eyes and an eager tone to his voice.

  “It depends on whether or not you want to see the Hotel Belden go out of business.”

  “What does that cord have to do with the Belden?”

  “I seem to remember some just like it used as a holdback for the drapes in the séance room at Honoria’s hotel.”

  “You don’t suspect Miss Belden of killing one of her guests, do you?”

  “No. I don’t suspect Miss Belden.” Yancey caught sight of Lewis striding along the sand. Thomas Lydale, laden once more with photographic paraphernalia, lagged behind. “But I’m afraid there is another lady at the hotel I will need to question.”

  “Please tell me it isn’t my mother-in-law.”

  “Afraid of Mrs. Doyle, are you?” Yancey couldn’t blame him. Frank’s wife was a gem of a woman, but marriage to her came at the high price of family ties to Mrs. Doyle.

  “I’m quaking in my boots. There’s been no end to the misery in my house since the last time you went to the Belden and questioned everyone.”

  “Rest easy. I have another lady in mind. Can you take over here with documenting the crime scene?”

  “If it means I don’t have to go into the Belden with you, I’ll even deal with Lydale without complaint.”

  “I have a lead I need to follow before I make inquiries at the Belden. I’ll come back for Lewis in a bit.” Yancey set off across the beach. Of all the reasons he could be headed for the hotel, the least appealing he could imagine was to collect evidence to arrest Miss Proulx.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Yancey let himself into the séance room and carefully inspected each window. Lewis stood and watched as Yancey confirmed the drapery tiebacks were a perfect match for the cord from the murder scene. The third window he checked was partially hidden from view by a silk folding screen. He felt his heart strain against the lining of his jacket when he noticed the far drape was held back by a length of packing twine rather than blue cording. He retraced his steps to the foyer.

  Elva and Dovie Velmont stood near the registration desk, watching him approach. They bent their heads toward each other and whispered animatedly back and forth. With a simultaneous nod of their fluffy white heads they turned toward him once more.

  “Officer Yancey, you are just the man we wanted to see,” one of them said. He wasn’t quite sure which sister was which. He motioned for Lewis to stay put and moved down the hall to greet the elderly pair.

  “It’s a sign, isn’t it, sister?” said the other one.

  “I am at your service, ladies.” He knew he ought to tell them he was at the Belden on urgent business but he was relieved to find an excuse to delay confronting Miss Proulx. Yancey gave a bit of a bow, unleashing a twitter from the plumper of the two sisters. “How may I assist you?”

  “We wish to report a crime,” the thin one said. “On behalf of a friend.”

  “A friend of yours, too, we suspect.” The plump one twittered again.

  “What sort of a crime?” Yancey asked. The desk’s gleaming walnut and polished brass fittings shone so brightly they made his eyes hurt. Lack of sleep was taking its toll. If he didn’t make a special effort he would mishandle the upcoming interview.

  “I’m not sure how you would classify it. It was either a robbery or an assault.”

  “Who was the victim?” Yancey asked, quite certain of the answer.

  “Ruby,” they answered in unison.

  “Was she severely injured?”

  “She didn’t feel the need to seek the ministrations of a doctor but she was not able to use her hand for the card reading she conducted for us yesterday evening.” The sisters nodded at each other in agreement.

  “Which hand was injured?”

  “Her right one.”

  “Do you know what was stolen?” Yancey asked.

  “That was the worst part. The thief absconded with her mother’s heirloom necklace. Such a heartbreak.”

  “We couldn’t convince her to tell you or even Honoria what had happened.”

  “Ruby is always such a thoughtful girl, never wanting to trouble others.”

  “We worried that she might feel we had betrayed a confidence by gossiping to the police but when we saw you standing right in front of us we felt it was a sign.”

  “Did she give a description of her attacker?” Yancey asked.

  “Oh dear, we never thought to ask for one.”

  “Ladies, you did right to bring this to my attention. Criminal behavior cannot be allowed to run unchecked. Do you know where I can find Miss Proulx?”

  “I believe I saw her enter Miss Belden’s office before we arrived here in the foyer.”

  “You’ve both been a great help.” He motioned for Lewis to follow him, then walked slowly down the hall, not wishing to think about why it was that he didn’t want to question Miss Proulx.

  Just outside the door to the office he paused and listened. Honoria’s booming voice and Ruby’s higher-pitched one came through the thick wood. He chided himself for cowardice, then knocked with more force than necessary on the door. Millie, the maid, opened it and a look of fear passed over her face.

  “Yancey, how lovely to see you.” Honoria waved him into the room, a beaming smile spread across her face. There were days when Yancey loathed his job. This whole week had been full of them.

  “As much as I wish it were, this isn’t a social call.” He motioned for Lewis to follow him into the room. “I’m here to ask you some questions about your guest, Mr. Ayers.”

  “He isn’t here. He never came back to the hotel last night. Very poor manners not to let us know ahead he planned to stay out all night,” Honoria said. “Ben waited up to let him in, as he hadn’t asked for a latchkey.” Yancey heard Lewis’s pencil scratching across his notebook.

  “Do you know when he was last seen?” Yancey asked.

  “He left the hotel in the afternoon with the intention of attending a concert at the amphitheater,” Honoria said. “What’s all this about, Yancey?”

  “There’s been another tragedy.”

  “Has something happened to him?” Honoria asked. Despite his question being directed at Honoria, Yancey kept his eyes firmly planted on Ruby. A flicker of apprehension flitted across her face, but almost as soon as it appeared it vanished. If he hadn’t known to watch her he would have missed it entirely.

  “His body was found near Googins Rock this morning,” Yancey said. “This was in his pocket.” Yancey held out the necklace. Honoria stood and leaned toward him, bracing herself against the desk with her plump hands. Her face drained of its usual high color and the contrast between her skin and dark hair made her look frail. Yancey hated to contemplate what his mother would say when he returned home.

  “That looks just like Ruby’s necklace.”

  “I thought so, too.” Yancey returned the necklace to his pocket.

  “You said he’s dead? Is some sort of lunatic targeting my guests?”

  “He’s been murdered, and while I believe there’s a connection to your hotel, I don’t think it’s an anonymous lunatic.”

  “Since he had Ruby’s necklace do you think Mr. Ayers was part of the pickpocketing ring?”

  “I don’t believe so. I believe she knew when it left her neck,” Yancey said. “Miss Proulx, will you permit me?” Yancey crossed to where she stood and reached out to take her right h
and. He felt like a brute when she let out a squeak of pain as he tugged off the glove and inspected her injuries. Her ring finger was purple and swollen to twice the size of her other digits.

  Yancey knew well enough where his responsibilities lay but he couldn’t help but feel the world was better off without the sort of man who would do that to someone so much smaller than he. Just as Yancey was about to release her hand he recalled Nell’s words. He turned Ruby’s hand over instead and bent close. There in the middle of the intersection of two lines on her palm was etched a distinct star. It was all he could do to keep himself from tracing it with his own finger. Annoyed with himself for his lack of professionalism, he resumed his line of questioning.

  “I understand you were the victim of another aggressive thief yesterday.” Yancey raised Miss Proulx’s injured hand for Honoria and Lewis to see. “Are you more able to identify this attacker than you were the last one?”

  Yancey felt Miss Proulx’s body grow rigid as he kept a lingering grasp on her hand. She tugged her hand away and he reluctantly released his grip.

  “It all happened so quickly. And besides, the last time I gave a description to the police my words were twisted and used against innocent people. It hadn’t occurred to me to attempt to do so again.”

  “I wish you felt you could be honest with me. A man might not be dead if you had.” Yancey placed the photograph he had gotten at Thomas Lydale’s studio on the desk. “It looks to me like you did know your attacker.” Yancey placed his finger just above the image of Miss Proulx.

  Honoria leaned over the photograph and Yancey thought he detected a flicker of surprise as she recognized what was taking place in the scene set before her. Yancey found himself admiring her quick recovery as she raised her gaze to his own.

  “This proves nothing. All I see is a man behaving in much too forward a manner to an innocent girl.” Yancey heard the dismissal in Honoria’s tone. “There is nothing to connect this photograph and the murder.” Honoria crossed her arms over her daunting bosom and pelted him with a look that would have sent him packing if it weren’t for the other evidence in his possession.

  Yancey withdrew the drapery cord from his pocket. “This was found near the body. We believe he was strangled with it.”

  “What does that have to do with the hotel?” Honoria asked.

  “It’s a drapery tieback from your séance room. I’ve already checked and one is missing from a window there.”

  “Anyone could have taken it.”

  “The photograph shows Miss Proulx in a heated exchange with Mr. Ayers. You said yourself he never returned home, so she is the last person we can say for sure saw him.” Yancey held up a hand to stop Honoria from sputtering an interruption. “No one had better access to the murder weapon than she or, as far as we can tell, a reason to kill him. Miss Proulx, it is my duty to take you to the station for questioning.”

  Ruby started to sway slightly, and Honoria moved quickly to her side and wrapped a steadying arm round her.

  “It wasn’t Ruby,” Honoria said. “I did it.”

  “Honoria, that isn’t true.” Ruby’s voice was shrill, and Yancey was certain she believed what she said. All at once she looked far younger than her years and utterly lost.

  “It is. And I can prove it.” Honoria released Ruby and returned to her desk. She yanked on a drawer and rummaged inside. She opened her hand to reveal Mr. Stickney’s missing watch fob. “I meant to take the whole watch so you would think a pickpocket had killed him but I heard someone coming and this was all I managed to grab in my hurry to not be discovered.”

  “But why would you kill either of them?” Ruby asked, her voice quavering and small.

  “Mr. Ayers told me he knew I had killed Mr. Stickney to keep him from reporting in his publication that my hotel employed frauds. He wanted money to keep quiet. I arranged to meet him out on the beach to make the first payment.”

  “And you strangled him with the cord?”

  “I did. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my hotel. Or for you.” Honoria gave Ruby a long look. Yancey wasn’t sure what it meant but he felt he was missing a silent message passing between them. Yancey held out a hand and Honoria dropped the watch fob into it.

  “Honoria Belden, I am placing you under arrest for the murders of Leander Stickney and Dennis Ayers.”

  “Of course. Ruby, I’m trusting the hotel to you.” Honoria slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out her jangling set of keys, which she thrust toward Ruby. “Mrs. Doyle and Ben will help you with anything you need. Please break the news to Mrs. Doyle yourself. I’d rather she not hear it from someone else.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Honoria strode off without a backward glance. I watched, feeling completely unmoored. As I sagged against the doorframe I heard a sob. Millie sank into the desk chair, tears running down her face.

  “This is all my fault.” She stared at the desk and let out another shuddering sob.

  “I think you’d better tell me what this is about.” I shut the door firmly and turned the key in the lock.

  “It’s about Miss Howell.”

  “Amanda?” I asked. “What about her?”

  “While you were out with the Velmonts she was in your room.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I was coming along the hallway with a tray for Mrs. Stickney when something caught my eye.”

  “Yes?”

  “Your room is the only one at the end of that passage and as I stopped to shift the weight of the tray I saw Miss Howell letting herself into your room.”

  “Did you call out to her?”

  “No. I had to make haste. Mrs. Stickney is impatient and I didn’t want her to complain to Mrs. Doyle.”

  “Did you see her face?”

  “No. Just the back of her head and her dark dress. She was behind the closed door as quick as a wink.”

  “And you didn’t see her coming out?”

  “Mrs. Stickney kept me for some time. By the time I got back and worked up the courage to let myself into your room there was no one in there.”

  “Then what happened?” I was curious but I still didn’t understand why Millie was so upset. Maybe Amanda was just borrowing a hatpin or snooping through my newly refurbished wardrobe. She had already performed a reading on my tarot cards, and my parasol had been in my possession, so there was no way she could have gotten any information about me from the contents of the room. Prowling around wasn’t nice but it did not a crisis make.

  “I decided to check if anything had been disturbed or taken.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing had been taken but I found something that didn’t belong to you.”

  “I haven’t noticed anything in there that wasn’t present when Honoria first showed me the room.”

  “That’s because I took it out and gave it to Honoria.” Millie hung her head. “I never meant her to come to harm from it.”

  “What did you find, Millie?”

  “I checked the jewelry box to be sure nothing was missing and right there in the bottom, sitting amongst the brooches and earrings, was a watch fob made of gold in the shape of a tiny set of scales.” Millie drew in a ragged breath. “It was just like the one Honoria gave to the police.”

  • • •

  As soon as Millie managed to stop crying, I sent her off to pack a bag for Honoria. Remembering my promise to my aunt, I decided next to speak to Mrs. Doyle. I headed for the kitchen and found her pulling gleaming glass jars of pickles from a shelf in the pantry.

  “Do you have a moment?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m up to my eyeballs rearranging dinner plans.” Mrs. Doyle’s face was as flushed as a pint of strawberry jam and her hair curled damply around her face. She squinted at me in her usual alarming way. “You don’t know how the turkey I’d planned for dinner end
ed up all dried out, do you?”

  “No. I have no idea. I need to talk to you about something more important than turkeys.”

  “That just goes to show what you know. That turkey is the most important thing in my day. Someone peeled back the paper wrapper and now a whole side of it is dried out to a fare-thee-well. Just like the beef roast the day Mr. Stickney was killed. There must be some sort of a lunatic at the hotel with a grudge against my supper plans.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it. Would you like a glass of water?”

  “Of course I wouldn’t. If you have something to say you’d best get on with it. I haven’t got all day.” Mrs. Doyle blew out a loud breath. I was surprised it wasn’t made of fire. Her impatience burnt up whatever reservoir of tact I might have had.

  “Mr. Ayers has been murdered. Honoria’s confessed to killing both him and Mr. Stickney. Officer Yancey just took her to the police station.” Before that moment I wouldn’t have believed so few words could change someone’s world. But watching Mrs. Doyle collapse into a heap in the nearest chair, the life drained out of her face, I discovered that they could.

  “She never did any such thing.”

  “I can’t understand it. Officer Yancey arrested Albert Fitch for Mr. Stickney’s murder yesterday. Why would she confess to both crimes? Millie found Mr. Stickney’s watch fob hidden in the jewelry box in my room and gave it to Honoria.”

  “She was trying to protect you,” Mrs. Doyle said. “According to my daughter, Albert Fitch is no longer in custody.”

  “The police let him go?”

  “Frank told my daughter Albert died while in custody. If Honoria confessed to both murders I’m sure the department is relieved to have a new suspect before the pier opens.”

  A hot tear slid down my cheek and a choking feeling filled my throat. I put my head down on the table and began to sob. I felt Mrs. Doyle’s strong hand stroking my hair. “It’s all my fault. If only I’d told Honoria the truth in the first place, none of this would have happened.”