She didn’t look down on anyone, indeed she envied many people, especially those for whom socialising seemed to come easily. She tried to never laugh at anyone, preferring to laugh with them, but she did love to laugh. Life was short, her parents were fond of reminding her, and as much enjoyment as possible should be squeezed from every moment, even the sad ones.
She didn’t understand their insecurity, since she usually held her tongue unless an error was glaringly obvious. She didn’t like being lied to however; she felt that it was a grievous insult to her intellect, to believe that she was incapable of spotting the inconsistencies, but it seemed that many people preferred to tell an easy lie rather than a more complex truth.
At twenty four, she was almost too old for marriage but with a bit of distance, and time to heal her wounded heart, she could see now that neither match would have made her happy. Her parents had been right to insist on a long engagement, because it was better to realise your mistake before marriage than after it. That was small comfort when your heart was breaking from the sting of rejection, but she always did her best to count her blessings, even at her lowest points.
She was almost resigned to remaining a spinster now and even although she envied her parents their intimacy, she knew that it would be better to remain a free spinster, than enter into an unhappy marriage.
Her younger sister, Joan, couldn’t understand that mind set at all and although she was only twelve, was already planning her future with an unknown husband. She was the most foolish of all her siblings but when mixing with others, Joan had the talent for easily making and keeping friends.
Sometimes Thea wondered if she would be happier with less intelligence; ignorance was supposed to be bliss, after all. Alas, the cards had been dealt and there was no way to shut her mind off easily, all she could do was sometimes redirect her line of thought, which she now did, since the idea of being rejected by Cole was giving her pangs of regret.
“Who else stays in the house?” she asked Cole as there was a lull in conversation.
“You mean family?”
She nodded.
“You met my father, of course, his wife is Selena, and they have two daughters. As for servants, I believe we have in the region of twenty usually, but I’m not certain how many guests brought lady’s maids and valets with them. The outdoor staff live over the stables, although they take their meals with the others in the servants’ dining hall.”
“I’ll ask the butler and housekeeper for a list of names and exact numbers,” she assured him.
“The house seems quiet for so many visitors,” her father noted.
“Indeed. Selena seems to think that sunlight repels bad spirits and has been arranging as many outdoor activities as she can. The fact that nothing has happened during daylight hours seems to suggest that they would be just as safe inside the house as outside, and we would be better served to spend the evenings out there, rather than the days.”
“If one believed in spirits, then yes, that would be far more logical,” Thea agreed.
“You said that your step-mother had hired a mystic?” Copley asked.
“Indeed, a spiritualist,” Cole said with barely concealed contempt. “She arrives tomorrow apparently. It was at that point that I wrote asking for your assistance.”
“Where did she find such a person?” her father asked.
“Newspapers,” she answered for Cole. “I know you never check the classified section, Papa, but there is often an advertisement or two in there for things such as clairvoyants, faith healers, tarot card readers and astrologers, especially in the London publications.”
“Truly?”
“Oh yes. There’s a lot of information there; items for sale from furniture to houses, and a lot of services that might not be encountered in daily life, such as psychics and spiritualists. The classified pages are fascinating, really, a tiny glimpse into the lives of others.”
Her father turned to Cole. “Is that where this mystic comes from?”
“I believe it was a friend of a friend recommendation. Honestly, I haven’t paid much attention to the details.”
“I assume you didn’t decide this?” Thea asked. He was so against the idea, that his step-mother would have been refused had she asked his permission.
“No, she sweet talked my father into it. I’m considering having him declared unfit and taking over his legal affairs but his decline in health is very recent and I’m reluctant to take that step.”
“How recent?” Thea leaned forward, wondering if perhaps there was a connection to the recent events.
“I first noticed around two months ago, I suppose. Although his confusion has only been very evident for four weeks and even then, it’s intermittent.”
Thea wasn’t sure what to make of such a quick decline, so she filed the information away to revisit at a later date.
A knock came at the door and the butler entered when bidden.
“Lord and Lady Copley’s luggage has arrived, Sir.”
“Have it taken to the Cavendish suite, please, and settle their servants in.”
“As you wish, Sir. The party will be heading inside again soon, to prepare for dinner.”
Cole looked to the grandfather clock, which ticked quietly in the corner. “I didn’t realise it was so late. Thank you, Black.”
The butler left and Cole placed his cup down.
“You will join us for dinner?” he asked.
“Of course,” her father answered. “It will be a good opportunity to observe everyone.”
“Then would you like to freshen up first? We can resume tomorrow.”
“What time do you eat dinner here?”
“We meet for drinks from eight, dinner is served at nine.”
That left two to three hours. “How can women spend so long getting ready,” She wondered out loud. “I think I would go mad were I forced to spend so long changing clothes and hair styles.”
She noticed Cole’s eyes widen a little in surprise.
“She does not mean to be so forthright, but often these things slip out,” her father explained.
“Yes,” she blushed. That was a rather rude thing to say, especially considering that his family and friends were surely among the party. She thought distraction might be her best option and she returned the conversation to the reason they were here. “Perhaps you could talk us through the final death?”
“Yes, of course. Do you want to see where he died?”
“Please.”
“Right this way.” He led them to a drawing room. “We had not long joined the ladies after dinner, so there were many witnesses to what happened.”
“What did happen?” Thea asked, looking around. Unlike the other rooms, there were no signs of a disturbance in here.
“He complained of a headache which quickly worsened and then became violently ill. He, uh, well he made it to the coal bucket, where he was…”
She understood that some things were unpleasant to talk about, and that most men had been conditioned never to speak of such things with ladies, but talking in roundabout ways was so imprecise.
“He vomited in the coal bucket,” she filled in the blanks to make this easier on him.
“Yes. I called for a doctor and one of the grooms was sent to fetch the local physician. Once the episode had passed, Mr Lanning said he was going to retire to bed and would await the doctor there. He and Mrs Lanning both got up, a few gentlemen were close by him, ready to offer assistance if necessary. Before he had taken a half dozen steps towards the door, he paused and swayed on his feet, he tried to say something but all that came out was gibberish, then he fell to the floor and began to convulse. When the convulsions stopped, we tried to rouse him. I tried to open his eyes and found that his right eye had turned blood red. He stopped breathing moments later.”
“I take it the doctor examined him?”
“Yes. He was far too late to help but he issued the death certificate.”
“What was the
cause of death?”
“He declined to give one, instead recording his findings for an inquest.”
“The red eye, was it the pupil or the sclera?”
“The sclera?”
“The white of the eye.”
“The white,” he confirmed.
“Was it all red?”
“No, there was some white visible.”
“Do you have the doctor’s report?”
“I don’t, I’m afraid. I’m sure he would give us a copy though, he and his father before him, have treated our family for generations.”
Thea made her way to the coal bucket but it had been emptied and cleaned. “What did everyone make of what happened?”
“They, uh, well, being possessed by a demon seemed to be the most common sentiment.”
“What did the doctor make of it?”
“I think he tried to dismiss their claims but he seemed affected by it, as we all were. I have never witnessed anything quite so… odd.”
“The convulsions, can you describe them?”
“He went rigid, although his limbs would flail around randomly.”
“How long have you known Mr Lanning?”
“Since I was a child, he is a friend of my father. I invited him to the house party actually; I hoped that seeing him might bolster my father’s mood.”
“Have you ever seen him have a seizure or convulsions before?”
“No. Why?”
“Because that sounds very much like something called a grand mal seizure, which is caused by a condition known as epilepsy. Until recently, sufferers were often thought to be possessed. Some still believe the seizures are the work of the Devil.”
“And the vomiting and speaking in tongues?
“Speaking in tongues?” She turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
“That’s how people have been referring to his attempt at speech.”
“Was he speaking another language, or did peoples’ imaginations run away with them?”
“I can only speak Latin and French, but I believe it is your latter suggestion. In all honesty, his words were more like grunts and groans, I could make out no pattern to his speech, as I might expect to in a foreign language, even one I wasn’t familiar with.”
“Given the other odd events of late, I can see why this would seem supernatural, but I believe it has a rational explanation.”
“Oh?”
“Assuming that he doesn’t have epilepsy, which I can confirm with his wife, he likely suffered an apoplectic seizure, which is bleeding in his brain. Obviously the skull is a bone and cannot stretch to accommodate the increased pressure, and I have heard of cases where that has caused bleeding into the eye. The reason for such episodes is still being debated but some appear to be the result of injury, a blow to the head, while others can be due to a weakness in the blood vessels. Whatever the reason, they are natural, not supernatural in origin. Was an autopsy performed?”
“No.”
“That’s unusual, isn’t it, given that the doctor was unsure of the cause of death.”
“Mrs Lanning requested that he be left in peace.”
Thea pursed her lips together. “That is annoying.”
“Why?”
“Because the only way I can confirm that diagnosis, is to look at his brain and see if there was bleeding into the cranial cavity.”
“You mean, you want to cut into his skull?” Cole sounded upset.
“How else can we confirm if he was bleeding into his brain?” she asked.
“But what about his wife?”
“What about her?”
“She doesn’t want him disturbed.”
“I realise that but superstition and fear thrive in ignorant environments. If you want to discover the truth, I need to start gathering proof.”
Cole looked rather shocked, as if she had slapped him. “I rather think compassion for a recent widow shows good manners.”
She realised she had offended him but she spoke the truth.
Her father stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“She means a lack of knowledge,” he explained. “She was not calling you or your friends ignorant. You are right, of course, that we should show compassion to a widow but that leaves us at something of an impasse. We can perform this procedure and prove Thea correct, or show consideration to Mrs Lanning and make do with theories. Of course, in the absence of proof, the rest of your party will find it easier to argue against a rational explanation. These are your guests however, as are we, so we shall abide by your judgement.”
Cole’s expression softened but Thea felt mutinous.
“Father?” She slipped her shoulder from his grasp and made her way to the corner of the room, so they could talk with some degree of privacy.
“Excuse us a moment, Cole.” He joined his daughter.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, trying to keep her voice low. “If we don’t autopsy, people will continue to believe it was some sort of demonic possession!”
“And if we do this, we could cause pain to a grieving woman.”
“But surely she wants to know the truth!”
“Sometimes a lie offers more comfort than the truth.”
“But even when uncomfortable, the truth is always preferable! Mother told me that.”
“Most of the time, she would be right but in this instance, we have to be compassionate. To you, this is just another mystery to be solved but to everyone else here, the dead people were their friends.”
“But they believe he was killed by a demon! Surely proving that it was not satanic will provide comfort.”
“Not necessarily. Some faiths even prohibit autopsy and many believe that the body should be left to ‘rest in peace’.”
“But-”
“No, Thea, no buts. You will need the cooperation of these people if we are to solve this riddle and appearing cold and heartless will not help our cause.”
“How can you say such a thing?” Her eyes felt scratchy and she blinked rapidly to hold her tears back. “I’m not cold! Or heartless!”
He put his arms around her shoulders and drew her to him. “I know that,” he kissed her forehead. “Unfortunately, most of Society has rigid expectations of women and if you defy those, they will make things difficult for you. I’m merely asking you to pick your battles wisely. As it stands, you have a rational explanation for everything that happened to Mr Lanning, and that has to be enough for now.”
“Very well,” she answered. “I won’t press for this. But I will suggest it to the doctor. Once he has done some research, perhaps that will be the official verdict of the inquest.”
“Good idea.” He kissed her forehead again and released her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and stepped away. As they walked back to Cole, who seemed to have been watching them avidly, she felt shame. Not for pushing for the autopsy, she still believed that was the best way to get answers; rather she felt embarrassed at having been chastised by her father, as if it had undermined her intelligence.
She knew her father meant well but seeing her chastised would make it easier for Cole to dismiss her, and that thought upset her more than she would like.
“I’m sorry if I appeared thoughtless before, I can get carried away by my desire to uncover the truth sometimes, although that is no excuse.”
“It’s quite all right. I understand the frustration.” He smiled. “Let’s go and see Mrs Lanning, then I’ll show you to your room.”
“No, she has enough to worry about. Besides, I believe this mystery is solved, confirmation would just be the icing on the cake, so to speak.”
“In that case, I’m sure she would like the peace of mind knowing that her husband wasn’t possessed.”
“Then please, tell her.”
“I’m sure it would be better coming from you. I can't even remember what you called the episode.”
“An apoplectic seizure.”
“Besides,
didn’t you want to ask her about other seizures?”
Thea looked from Cole to her father, who gave no sign of stepping in to save her.
“Very well but I should warn you, although I doubt it’s necessary, but I’m not good with people. I won’t try to offend her but equally, I can't promise that I won’t.”
“Come, she should be sitting vigil with her husband and the Smiths.”
As she followed him from the room, she wondered if he had faith in her, or if he was hoping she would fall flat on her face. She hoped it was the former, but experience told her to expect the latter.
Chapter Three
Cole wasn’t sure what to make of the woman, Athena. Such an odd name but fitting for such an odd woman. He admired her spirit and intelligence, he just wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.
A woman who wanted to look inside a dead man’s brain and who saw nothing wrong with possibly grieving his widow?
He had been ready to argue, thinking her cold and callous, until her father had stepped in. He had been unable to hear their words as they spoke but he could see her demeanour, which became markedly more relaxed after a few moments, he might even call her vulnerable.
He had his first insight into her character. Her efficient and business-like behaviour were a defence.
He could well imagine how some treated her, with condescension, scorn and when they were forced to admit her gifts, resentment. He had witnessed his sisters all receiving the same sort of treatment at various times, often for nothing more serious than daring to venture an opinion. Sometimes even from their own husbands.
His mother had been a strong woman and had encouraged all of her children to think for themselves and to read and learn. Being the youngest and the only boy, with seven older sisters, ensured that he had the proper respect for women; after all, they were bigger and stronger than he was back then.
They also gave him insights into womanhood that many of his school friends seemed to lack; they spoke of women and girls as a foreign species, to be tolerated and even enjoyed, but rarely respected.
Murder at Locke Abbey Page 3
