Of Lost and Found (the Kingsborough House): Kingsborough House (Virgil McLendon Thrillers Book 4)

by catt dahman

  After the European tour, Mary was depressed, pining for some boy she met in England and thought herself madly in love with. After hearing whispers about Mary and the boy, Edith walked in on Mary, who was changing clothes, and went into a rage; her very young daughter was pregnant.

  Unwed and pregnant.

  Edith knew she’d never get the girl a proper marriage and managed to break almost everything in the room that was made of glass. Dragging the half nude girl down two flights of stairs and down hallways, Edith showed her physical strength, scolding the girl the whole way. She locked her in the grey room and told her to stay there and think on her behavior. For an hour, Mary pounded on the door, begging to be let out.

  Edith left her there all night. She was livid.

  In the morning, the girl was gone.

  Edith claimed someone helped her escape, but there was a short search; it hardly made the news. Edith and John removed everything from Mary’s room.

  Edith ordered three new sets of china to match the other sets, one in pale blue, one in sea green, and one grey. All were designed with the Phoenix rising motif.

  The other two missing Kingsborough children were almost grown. Susanna and Christine were very close. Christine, said to be intellectually slow, constantly searched the house for her missing sister, Mary. She cried, wailed at all hours, and tried to get into the grey room at every chance. Susanna did her best to distract her sister, but to no avail. Edith finally unlocked the door and said to search all they wished as she and two maids followed porters out of the house for a trip she had planned.

  The girls wailed and said they had to find Mary and Edith couldn’t get them to leave the rooms and go with her. Because Susanna refused to leave Christina, Edith had the porters dump her trunks on the front steps, and she left in a coach, saying she was washing her hands of the drama.

  During the next few months, from February, until May, Edith was gone and sent few letters to her sons. When they sent her a heartbreaking letter, claiming that that something had happened to their sisters, there was no response from Edith, who was still seething over the actions of Mary and then her other daughters.

  Fin pulled a letter from a folder, “This is only part because it was in bad shape. ‘…with regrets that we tell you both Susanna and Christine have vanish like so many others. ------to come home at this time. -----questioned and nothing was found. The constable found deep scuff marks on the wood in the ----room, a table upset, with your lead and dark topaz vase shattered. There were nail prints as well but no----solve this. Please let us know when you ----------------home.’ It was signed by Mark and David.”

  In late March, Charles Fontaine Moreau gave strict orders to his crew and foreman, vowing terrible consequences if his instructions were ignored, and he left town as well.

  There were no records of anyone named Kingsborough or Moreau being on The Titanic, but when she returned, Edith told dramatic stories of the ship striking an iceberg, the sinking, the ensuing panic, and loss of lives and said she was fortunate to have escaped but her maids didn’t. Mr. Moreau did accompany her home, but his part, if any was never discussed. Edith gave several interviews about her harrowing experiences, and was able to describe the most minute details of décor on the ship, the maiden voyage meal’s every course, who she saw there, and people divided on whether they believed her or not.

  “Was Edith and Moreau onboard?” Virgil asked.

  “My research indicates that they may have been, but under false names and that they were involved, maybe. I just can’t tell if they were there or not. The papers reported all the details so it could be she lied, but there really was no reason for her to lie,” Fin Carter told Virgil.

  The house continued to grow outwards and upwards.

  Twenty-three years later, Edith died in her sleep, peacefully, in her opulent, own bedroom, in 1935.

  Between 1995 and her death in 1935, workmen, carpenters, and maids continued to go missing. Guests vanished. Law Enforcement could do nothing as there was no evidence of any crimes, but at least a hundred people were lost at the Kingsborough house.

  David Kingsborough and Mark Kingsborough were left with the full estate, and a large inheritance from both sets of their grandfather and from their parents. Edith was buried beside her husband with little pageantry.

  Charles Fontaine Moreau finished his immediate plans and died in 1938 when he was thrown from a horse. He was, oddly, buried, according to Edith’s and his wills, on the other side of Edith. He left no house plans, blue prints, or descriptions of anything he built within the house. It was rumored that there were two-hundred rooms, but no one was sure, a wine cellar, a basement, an attic in some areas, and a greenhouse. There was an indoor-outdoor pool.

  David and Mark lived in the family home and allowed frequent tours, guests, and elegant balls. Some notable guests included writer, HP Lovecraft, poet, Dylan Thomas, and artists Henri Matisse, and Edward Hopper. Although those people never vanished, three or four people, each year disappeared while in the Kingsborough home. Some people had heart attacks while on tours and psychics claimed to have terrifying visions, saying the house was evil and haunted. The reputation built and along with the occasional gossip about the house, some said Charles Moreau and Edith Kingsborough may have cursed The Titanic as well.

  In 1945, the house was closed for seven years as David and Mark suffered various illnesses, but a Preservation Board was set up with plenty of money for upkeep and future tours of the most haunted house on earth. During that decade, David vanished, and Mark died from a fall down the central staircase that broke his neck. The next twelve years were spent cataloging the rooms, updating, and making sure everything was repaired but kept accurate.

  The tours resumed in 1960 with guests allowed to stay in the rooms, tours of the ground, tours of the house, midnight fright-tours, investigations, and psychics; bookings were generally made a year or more in advance; tours filled up within minutes. And the disappearances continued. In the last fifteen years, over ninety people vanished without a trace and the house’s reputation went from being a haunted mansion to a place that people went if they wanted to change identities and go missing forever. Sceptics claimed people simply used the house’s reputation to run away.

  “But people still flock here for a chance at a spooky encounter,” Virgil sighed.

  “What do you think?”

  Virgil looked hard at Fairalee, “If we take away the mysteries of this house, because unfortunately, we gather preconceived notions, but remove all the opulence, what do you see as a pattern?”

  “There was talk Edith harmed others before being married. John Kingsborough Charles Fontaine Moreau, and Queen Marie Laveau certainly knew one another at a time when cults, alcohol, drugs, and carnal pleasures abounded. Edith remarked that Moreau knew dark magic. I can’t say I personally believe in curses or black magic, but I suppose someone who did believe could take it much too far.”

  Virgil nodded, “Excellent. Then what happened? Bare minimum.”

  “Threats or aggravations to John, Edith, and Moreau disappeared, whether it was an unruly child, a flirty woman, a sloppy or lazy workman or maid, or bothersome parents. I can’t say anyone of them caused the vanishings, but I feel things they designed for the house, did cause them. I tend to think all three knew where everyone vanished to.”

  “I agree. If you build a pit and fill it with snakes in the center of a boy scout trail and cover it over so it’s hidden, then when the boys come down the trail, fall in, and are bitten, you caused the crime. You didn’t set the time, but you set the business in motions…like the clockworks. The Kingsboroughs and Moreau would the clock works and set the springs. I think it’s possible so many traps are still going off this long since.”

  Terry Cromer had come in to listen, “So people fifty years dead are to blame for the vanishings? For Shari? Is she dead?”

  “Hello Mr. Cromer,” Fin said.

  “Call me Terry, please.”

  Virgi
l shook his head, “I just don’t know, Terry. I want to believe so, but…there is nothing to indicate that those who vanished in the last fifty years are conclusively dead. That worries me the very most.”

  “Where are they? In the honeycombs?” Fairalee asked. “They can’t be alive. Where would they be?”

  Virgil said, “In a far worse place. I’ll know after tonight’s tour.”

  Chapter Ten:

  At 11:30, people began to gather for the Midnight Tour. Virgil took time to be sure his group had dressed as he asked them: in boots or heavy leather shoes, blue jeans, long sleeved shirts, and bandannas. Each had a pocket knife and a service weapon. Gina was in charge of this tour and George, Lana, and Rick were there as well. Four times, over the last fifteen years, there had been vanishings on a Midnight Tour and they wished to keep their current record of no disappearances in two-hundred thirty days.

  Virgil agreed as he nodded to Gina. “I don’t expect trouble, but I find that trouble often finds me and Vivian.”

  “It finds me a lot,” Vivian admitted.

  Virgil’s group had back-up flashlights and batteries, but they took the flashlights the guides handed out with extra batteries.

  “You okay, Virg?” Vivian asked.

  “Yeah. I have been antsy all day. It started when I was reading the newspaper…and….”

  “Ok, listen up. Remember. Do not stray away, linger back, go ahead, or leave the group. If your light goes out, stay in place and call out. If anything else happens, please do the same: remain in place, remain calm, and remain quiet unless we ask you to call out. The rooms look creepier at night, shadows dance in the flashlight, and things look vastly different. If you become too afraid, stay in place and call to us. One of us will escort you from the area. No one will laugh and several people have had to leave because it was too intense, Just let us know,” Gina went over everything. “You have partners, know them, and we want you to stay with them at all times.”

  She smiled, “If you see a ghost, please stay perfectly still and let us know so we can all see one. Your eyes can play tricks on you, so stay calm and we can figure out things you see, hear, or smell with you. George. Would you spray the anti-ghost spray on everyone before we go? Come on George, George of the Jungle.”

  “Me? I thought Rick had it; sticky, tricky Ricky was in charge.”

  “Me? Nope. Lana, Lana Foe Fana was supposed to bring it,” Rick said.

  “Ha! G-G Gina, you were in charge.”

  Gina laughed along with most of the guests, “Now we’ve made sure you know our names if you need us.”

  “Is there no real ghost spray?” a teen girl asked.

  Everyone laughed now. This was usual process to make sure all four guides’ names would be remembered and it made people relax as they laughed.

  “No. We welcome ghosts,” George said.

  The girl giggled, “Good.”

  “Come along,” Gina called. “We’re going to go down the hall here….wave at those late diners…hi everyone! Are you all sure you’d rather be here on tour than at the chocolate snack buffet tonight?”

  “Hmmm,” Fin Carter pretended to think.

  “Forget it, partner,” Fairalee pulled his arm.

  Virgil whispered, “You and Fairalee could stay back.”

  Vivian rolled her eyes and ignored him.

  “I am unlocking a basement door. We will carefully walk down the steps with one hand on the railing. Don’t rush. Once we are at the bottom, Rick will lock the door so no one sneaks in and we’ll count off again. Use the railing or I will draw a frowny face on your forehead with Magic Marker,” Gina warned.

  All thirty and the four guides did as asked and the count was perfect. Gina thanked everyone for using the railing to descend the stairs.

  Virgil, again, made noted that these were good guides.

  “In there is a huge wine cellar with tables and comfy chairs. That is a popular tour and will take place next Wednesday instead of dinner, and the wine down here is delicious. We serve heavy hors d’oeuvres, fruit, nuts, cheeses, and sweets.

  “No samples, Gina?” A man called out.

  She must be asked this often. “Okay. Just this once.” She grinned and pulled out a chilled bottle from an iced cooler and George and Lana quickly poured tiny cups of an almost clear wine and set them on a table. “Toss the cups in the can after your drink, please.” They always gave a teaser taste of wine because it helped with keeping the tourists at the house longer to take the wine-tasting tour.

  She walked ahead as each person took a little cup and tried the wine.

  “That’s nice. Pears…and….grass?” Vivian asked. She liked the flavor.

  Rick winked, “Good taste buds. It’s excellent with cheese and available in our gift shop.”

  Everyone buzzed about the delicious taste. More than half would buy at least two bottles. It was another way to boost income, although the Kingsborough House already made a huge profit.

  George took over, “As we go, there are nothing vital to see until I call stop. At that point, use your flashlight to look at either of the brick walls. Ok. Stop. Notice how tightly the bricks are set. Excellent craftsmanship. They are wax polished to keep them easier to clean and so that garments aren’t snagged on rough places. This was designed this way. Let’s walk again. We’re turning to the left. You can see big iron doors and I will open one and stand in the way so no one accidently gets inside, but as you pass, take a good strong whiff. Doors on the other side open to the greenhouses and you’ll smell manure, good, dark soil, and minerals.”

  Gina led the group past and stopped after everyone had made another left turn. She asked for a count and it was correct. She said, “Before you, are huge store rooms where extra wood and glass were kept in case something had to be replaced. We don’t open the doors, but they have barred windows and you can use your light to see how much stuff is stored in those rooms.”

  Everyone looked inside.

  Gina then led them to a huge room with carved, smooth walls and ceilings. She flipped on electric lights and asked everyone to turn off their flashlights to save batteries. There were hard benches in some places that people sat on and a locked room across from the benches. Inside the locked rooms was where the staff had once done laundry.

  At the far end was a tall iron fence that ran down across the room, allowing only a few inches of water to lap against the rocks. “The well here is very deep and cold and had been tested often. The water, as you’ve noticed, is very mineral rich. Some claim drinking it, bathing in it, swimming in it, and being packed into its mud refreshes the body and cleanses. If you haven’t made it to the spa, please make sure you do. You can also buy the water, bottled fresh for you…in the gift shop.”

  George scooped water into his mouth, “It’s delicious.”

  Vivian gulped, remembering the poisonous water at their house, but went over to get a drink, “It’s wonderful.”

  “Where does it go?” Tina asked.

  “Some drips below to lower levels, perhaps, or just into the rocks. No one knows if this is the only basement besides the big one used for the kitchen. Another mystery. It winds out and crosses the property in the small creek and fills the pond and spa area, so the water is always clean and fresh there.”

  “We’ll have to look in all these rooms and see if we can find anything that leads to a subbasement,” Virgil said. The others on his team nodded.

  “What was that?” Fairalee asked. “Shhhhh. Listen.”

  “We hear that a lot,” Gina said, after everyone had a good listen. It sounded like distant wailing, moaning, and banging on rocks. “It’s spine-chilling, isn’t it? We’ve decided that on some nights, the wind gets through cracks and makes the sounds.”

  “Except there is no wind tonight and those bricks are solid,” Virgil whispered to Vivian, “It reminds me a little of what Mr. Cromer told me.”

  “It sounds like someone moaning and banging around,” Vivian said, “That’s weird. W
hat if it is?”

  Virgil shrugged.

  After exiting the basement with flash lights on again and counting their number, they continued, going upstairs. Statues and carving gave appropriate chills. “Shown on no other tour, this was Mr. John Kingsborough’s Gentleman’s Retreat and is done in an African theme. Please file inside.”

  Gina let them shine the lights around the room as they stood in the center, behind velvet ropes. Like the entryway to the house, there were life-sized, animal carvings, and one was of an elephant! Shocked, people gathered to stare at the massive art. Beside it was a life-sized giraffe.

  “They must weigh a ton,” Fin Carter muttered.

  “Indeed. Mr. Moreau had to use iron braces set on more iron braces, and carried all the way down so the weight would be secure.”

  “Gina, what rooms are below us that have the iron braces?”

  “That is one of the hallways with the elevator in it; it needed that support as well, you see, and the other room was called the Storm Room, by the family and because there are no outside walls or windows there. In case of a severe storm, everyone could gather there and be safe. It’s currently being renovated.”

  “And is it a safe room?” Virgil asked, meaning safe in that no one vanished from it.

  “Yes, it is.”

  To one side, a woman fell over the velvet rope and several brass holders clanked against the floor loudly, making everyone jump with fear.

  “It was me, Anita. I’m not moving.”

  Gina ran over, “Thanks for following instructions. What happened?”

  “Howie pushed me.” She grumbled

  “I didn’t mean to, Anita.” Howard was a huge man, and in the excitement had bumped his wife.

  “You big ox.”

  Gina called to her other guides, “I think we have a skinned knee. Let’s see if it hurts when you stand so we know if we have a bruise.”