by Patricia Fry
“I’ll bet that’s the grandmother—Mrs. Randall—leading the party,” Savannah said, pointing.
Suddenly, Suzette grasped Savannah’s arm. “Oh my gosh,” she said. “That picture. It’s them!”
“What picture?” Arthur asked.
“We were looking at a picture in that reading room up there—you know—of a séance or a reading. Didn’t you see it?”
The men each shook their head.
“Yes, it must have been taken shortly after they were… put down here,” Savannah said.
“Or,” Iris suggested, “before they were put down here. I want to look more closely at that when—if—we ever get out of here.” Suddenly she said, “There. Look. It’s another shot of them in that picture. Craig, shine your light here. Take a look at this.”
Craig looked at the photo, then back at the corpses, who all sat in chairs around the large table. “Holy sh--, it’s them, all right. In the same poses.” He said, “… except for the madam. I think she was alive in this picture. My gosh, whoever did the embalming was good.”
“And the makeup is amazing,” Iris said.
“Miriam’s father was a make-up artist for some of the theatrical groups in town,” Rochelle said.
“Oh my gosh,” Savannah said, “so he was in on all this, too?”
“And obviously, so was that poor little girl. Only she evidently didn’t buy into the program and the guilt sent her into the bottle,” Craig surmised.
“So who did this? I mean there’s the grandfather and the grandmother. Who would have done this?”
Craig took in a deep breath, grimaced, and said, “My guess is the butler did it.”
Chapter 10
Several minutes had passed and Craig was becoming more and more impatient. “Well, we’re using up oxygen here,” he growled. “Obviously, no one knows we’re in trouble yet. We’d better try to get someone’s attention.” He called out, “Help! Help!”
The women began screaming and shouting at the top of their lungs, as well.
Michael pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, but found that he had no service, so he picked up a stool, climbed up on the table, and began banging the object against the ceiling.
After several minutes, Craig said, “It’s no use. We’re too far away from anyone to be heard. We have to hope that Ruth and Rupert will come looking for us, that is, if… ”
“If what?” Savannah asked.
“If whoever nailed that trap door shut didn’t… harm them.”
Savannah gasped.
When Craig realized what he’d implied, he put his arm around Savannah. “Just joking around; nothing to worry about. I’m sure they’re okay.”
But his words didn’t soothe her new fears for her child.
“What about ventilation in here?” Suzette asked. “It’s stuffy, but there seems to be an air source.”
Craig looked around the room and saw an aluminum vent running along the wall up toward the ceiling. “Excuse me,” he said, moving one of the chairs from around the table. As he did so, the corpse, that had been occupying the chair toppled over and hit the floor. “Oh, that’s not good,” Craig said, staring down at the man. Closing his eyes briefly, he stepped over the body, carried the chair to one corner of the room, and began tapping on the metal tubing with a metal vase. Clang, clang.
Within the next fifteen minutes, the prisoners could hear a faint voice calling, “Craig? Savannah?”
The group exercised renewed energy. “Here! We’re down here!” they shrieked and shouted. Craig continued to bang on the vent pipe.
When they stopped the noise, they heard a man’s voice calling, “What happened?”
“Rupert,” Arthur called out. “The trap door’s nailed shut.”
“Find a claw hammer or a crowbar and pry it open,” Michael instructed.
“I don’t see any tools,” he responded. “I’ll have to go get something.”
“Rupert,” Savannah called out, “the baby?”
“She’s with Ruth. Still sleeping,” he said.
Savannah relaxed a little. “Just hurry,” she said.
Craig looked from Michael to Arthur. “What do you suppose happened to the tools? Did Miriam run off with them?”
Another four or five minutes went by before they heard Rupert’s voice again. “Everyone okay?”
“Yes,” they said in unison. “Hurry.”
“Sit tight.” The next thing they heard was the squeaking sound of nails coming loose from wood. “Got it,” he announced through the opening. “How did you all get stuck down there?” he asked, scratching his head. “And what did you find, anyway?”
“You aren’t going to believe it,” Michael said.
One by one they rode the lift up and climbed out.
“I took a couple of pictures,” Savannah said. Once you opened the trap door, I was able to use my cell phone camera.” She showed one to Rupert. “Look what’s been under your feet all these years.”
“What?” Rupert said, staring at the photograph. “Those people are down there? What are they doing? Who are they? Do they live in there?” he asked, trying to peer into the secret room.
“Not exactly. But they’re dying to get out,” Arthur said, chuckling nervously.
When Rupert continued to look puzzled, Craig said, “It’s like the living dead.” He glanced down at the hole. “Creepy.”
“Boy, is it ever,” Suzette agreed. “They’ve been embalmed and dressed—they’re wearing make-up and are all sitting around doing a séance.” She shivered. “Can you believe it?”
Rupert looked down at the trap door and said, “But how did you guys get locked in there—this door was nailed shut from up here. Who did that?”
“I’m pretty sure it was one of only two people alive who know what’s down there,” Craig said. “Miriam Moore or her father.” He looked at his watch. “What time is it? Nine-thirty. Not too late. I need to find that woman. Savannah, do you know where she hangs out?”
“Ruth’s sister does. Ruth has Mattie’s phone number.”
“Let’s go get it,” Craig said, leading the others back to the main part of the house.
Michael and Suzette hung back. She grabbed the photograph she’d seen of the deadly séance and he nailed the trap door shut once again… maybe once and for all.
“We’re in the cab on our way back to our camp,” Mattie said to her sister.
When Ruth told Craig, he grabbed the phone. “Mattie, is this Mattie?”
“Yes,” came the meek reply.
“Is Miriam with you?”
“Yes.”
“This is Craig Sledge. I must speak with her immediately. Please have the driver bring you both to the Peyton Mansion.”
There was silence on the other end and then he could hear the two women arguing.
“Mattie, where are you?” he insisted.
“Um, on the edge of town. Ralph won’t come back. He has a fare.”
“Tell him to stop right there. I’m on my way,” he said as he raced toward his car.
After twenty minutes, Craig returned to the mansion with the two women. When he parked near the kitchen door, Mattie jumped out, but Craig had to help Miriam, as she was in handcuffs. He walked them inside, through the dining room and into the atrium, where most of the others had gathered.
“Handcuffs, Craig, really?” Savannah said.
“She was uncooperative.” He turned to Miriam and asked, as he removed the cuffs.
“You’re going to cooperate now, right?”
She gritted her teeth, then asked, “Can I have a canned soda?”
Craig motioned for someone to get her one, and Suzette volunteered. “Sit here,” he instructed the women, motioning toward a couple of straight-back chairs. Craig sat opposite them. He addressed Miriam. “So you knew about your grandmother’s little rip-off scam and body collection, did you?”
“I guess I did,” she said, choking up, “but I swear, I didn’t remember it until toda
y.” She took a deep breath. “I was walkin’ past a store in town and saw on the TV a Dracula movie. It reminded me of something, you know, and I finally figured out it was something real to me.” She began to sob. “That’s what I saw that day when I followed my grandmother—all those bodies dressed up like that. I don’t know if it was the punishment or seeing them that messed me up so bad, but after that day, I forgot it all. I never went near that place again; never ever, ever. When I remembered it, I cried all day and then I came out to see if it was real or if it was one of my night dreams. When I saw the hole in the wall and heard you all down there, I knew it was real.” She turned to her friend. “God Mattie, it was real all this time.”
“And you tried to kill us. Why did you do that?” Craig asked, sternly.
“I wasn’t trying to kill you. I just didn’t want the secret out. Know what I mean? I couldn’t do that to my grandmother.”
Craig winced at the woman’s naivety, then sat back while Miriam began to explain.
“Grandmother and Grandfather were very wealthy. When I was born, my mother—their daughter—died and Grandmother stopped her social life. No more parties, charities, trips. Father told me that her only interest in life after that was trying to talk to her dead daughter… my mother. They moved into this place with me and my father. Grandmother got so hung up in the spiritual world that she became a sorta psychic healer and she started advertising herself. People came and they had these weird gatherings. I grew up with it all, so it wasn’t so crazy to me at the time.”
“What about Julian Fletcher?” Craig asked. “How did he fit in?”
Miriam took a swig of soda. “He was our butler, but he also worked with my grandmother at the readings—you know—taking things the guests offered.”
“That they offered?” Savannah said, wincing.
“Yeah, things they’d brought for their dead relatives.” She glared at Savannah and explained, “It made them happy to think the gifts went to their relatives. It was our job to make sure they left here happy.”
“How did those people end up down in the hidden room? Dead?” Craig asked.
Miriam finished downing her soda. “Oh that. Well, Grandmother and Julian would focus on certain people who came here for help. They’d convince them their loved ones were communicating from the grave.”
“So they were doing séances?” Rochelle confirmed.
“Yeah, for some of the guests.” Her eyes flooded with tears. “I don’t know how those people got down there. All I know is that I’d make friends with someone, like Stanley and Jeffry—I’d see them most every day around here. They’d play with me—jump rope, hopscotch, monopoly—then they’d disappear. Like Grandfather. He disappeared, too. I didn’t know they were living—dead—in that chamber. I didn’t know it, until I followed my grandmother that day.”
Craig grimaced. “How did your grandfather and the others die?”
“Now, that I don’t know. Poison, maybe? Suffocation? Maybe it was natural...what do you call it… natural death.” She shrugged.
“And your father? What was his role?” Craig asked.
Miriam hesitated. “I don’t think Father was part of that. He was a make-up artist.”
Craig gave the others a knowing look. He asked Miriam, “Did you kill Mr. Fletcher to keep him from telling the family secrets?”
She sat up straighter, “No. he was already dead. There were pill bottles around. I think he checked himself out, don’t you?”
Craig stared at the woman for several moments, then said, “May I ask how you ended up on the streets?”
“Hell, as I grew up and got out some and saw how other people lived, man, it became clear to me that something was wrong in my family. What I’d thought was normal, I found out was way far out. Know what I mean? Once the truth of it all hit me, I headed for the bottle. I even did drugs. I just wanted to forget. It’s been maybe twenty years since I left all that behind me. When I saw there was an estate sale here, I decided to come back and see what the place looked like now. You know a lot of the stuff in here belonged to my family. I got a bit...like… homesick.”
“Nostalgic?” Rochelle suggested.
Miriam nodded. “That’s when I started having those night-screams and,” she looked around the room, “all of you started trying to help me.” She stared down at her Coke can. “I think knowing what I’d forgotten was worse than not knowing.” She then tilted her head and glanced around at the others. “But I’m not having the night-screams anymore. I guess that’s a good thing. Know what I mean?”
****
That night before bedtime, everyone moved out of the mansion, including Arthur and Suzette. The bungalows had been vacated by the young volunteers and there was enough space for each family unit. They loaded up their individual kitchens with food from the mansion and let the staff go home. Arthur then closed all the doors and walked away. After helping with the migration to the bungalows, Peter and Rochelle drove back to their apartment in the city.
“So what will happen to Miriam?” Ruth asked Craig the next day as they all sat in the Iveys’ bungalow eating a smorgasbord of breakfast items and drinking coffee.
“She spent the night in county jail. But if we don’t file a complaint, they won’t charge her for attempted murder.”
“So you’re pretty sure she didn’t actually have anything to do with what went on in the depths of that place,” Savannah asked, slipping Rags and Koko a bite of cantaloupe.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Her father might be another matter. They’re trying to run him down now.”
“Do you think he has any money left?” Suzette asked.
“It’s anyone’s guess. Miriam thinks he took what he thought he’d need and fled to Cancun or someplace.”
“And left his daughter to live on the streets!” Ruth exclaimed.
Suddenly Savannah said, “Hey this is depressing. Arthur, how far away is your ranch? I’d love to see your new digs.”
Arthur smiled. “Not far. Great idea. I wouldn’t mind getting away from here.”
“I have business at the station,” Craig said. “Iris, would you like to hang out with the young people this morning?”
She nodded. “Sure would.”
Ruth looked at Rupert. “I think we’ll go out to my place today. Okay with you?”
Rupert nodded.
“Where are Laura and Gail?” Suzette asked.
“They planned to leave early this morning,” Ruth explained.
“So that’s five of us and Lily,” Michael noted. We can all go in our car.”
“Or my Jeep,” Arthur said. “… although I’m not the most confident driver yet.”
Michael considered the offer, then said, “Oh, the baby’s car seat is strapped into our car, so let’s just take it.” He looked around at the others. “Let’s go, then.”
“Reality check, Michael,” Savannah said, hands on hips.
“What?” he asked, looking confused.
“We have no more servants. Someone has to clean up this breakfast mess.”
Everyone started to laugh as the women stood to clear the table and do the dishes.
Once the chores were done and the baby was bathed and dressed, Michael teased Savannah. “Wife of mine, are you finally ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Hey, Michael, I’m thinking about leaving Rags out of his cage today. Maybe Arthur will let Koko keep him company in our bungalow. What do you think? I don’t want to leave him all cooped up alone all day.”
Michael twisted his handsome face into a slight grimace. “You want to leave two teenagers home alone?” he joked. He then said, in a more serious tone, “Yeah, good idea.” He glanced around. “I thought Koko was here. Where’d she go?”
“Arthur and Suzette took her out for a stroll.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, I’ll go see if Koko can come in and play, while you finish packing the baby’s things.”
****
“This is l
ovely,” Savannah said, scanning the grounds of Arthur’s new residence an hour later. “It’s plenty of room for me,” Arthur said. He reached out and pulled Suzette to him. “Well, for us,” he said, kissing her briefly.
“You have everything you could want here, it seems,” Michael observed.
“And it feels so good here,” Iris added.
When everyone looked in her direction, she said, “You know—no nasty, evil vibes.” She turned to Arthur. “Who owned it?”
“A couple with small children. Seem like nice people. They’re involved in one of the local churches, I believe.”
“Perfect,” Iris said.
Arthur explained, “We can’t go into the house until next week, but I can tell you it has four bedrooms, an office, a large dining room, a cool den with a big stone fireplace—it’s like a cave in there.”
“A man-cave?” Michael said, smiling.
“Yeah, a man-cave,” Arthur repeated, lowering his voice a little.
“There’s an amazing kitchen where we can both learn how to cook,” Suzette said. “And the living room is great for entertaining.”
“So is this wonderful deck area,” Savannah said, gesturing. “And you have room for horses. Will you get horses?”
“Of course,” Arthur said. He glanced at Suzette. “I’ll have to teach her how to ride.”
“Never rode a horse, huh?” Savannah asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve always wanted to. I used to have a cowgirl outfit I wore every chance I got.”
“Do you still have it?” Arthur asked.
Suzette shook her head. “No,” she said, laughing. “That was when I was seven or eight years old.”
“You have a granny flat.” Michael noticed.
Arthur looked at him. “Huh?”
“Granny flat—that little house where people who visit can stay.”
“Is that what they call it? Yes, isn’t it great? Look at the garden around it.”
“I want to grow a veggie garden right there,” Suzette said, pointing.
“You know how to garden?” Savannah asked, obviously impressed.
“I learned a little about growing food when I’d visit my cousins in the country. It fascinated me. I’d sure like to try it.”
