“A strange night,” Evangeline mused to herself, “succeeding a day of even stranger events.” She thought of the incidents that had transpired no more than twelve hours before. She thought of an innocent social call that had quickly escalated into a full-blown murder investigation. She thought of Euphemia Allworthy—an amusing and vital woman—transformed into an inert mound of flesh under a white sheet on the floor of her own foyer while a bizarre procession of strangers traipsed through her home. She thought of Euphemia’s servants—Ingrid twisting her apron in a knot of helpless regret, Garrison clearing his throat and trying to maintain his sang froid in the face of disaster. She thought of Roland, vague and staring off into space unless someone asked him a direct question. Most of all, she thought of Martin—nervous, shocked, outraged by the intrusion of chaos into his well-ordered life. Of all the many emotions she had watched Martin display that afternoon, why could she recollect no expression of grief among them? It was made conspicuous by its absence. Odd. Very odd indeed.
Evangeline’s ruminations were cut short by the creaking sound of the parlor door opening. Monsieur Beau, immediately vigilant to the sound of an intruder, lifted his head, ears perked forward. Evangeline turned her face languidly toward the door, expecting Delphine to approach and scold her for being up so late. Instead, she saw a slighter shape bearing a night light.
“Excuse me. Have I disturbed your quietness?” a sing-song voice asked.
“No, Serafina.” Evangeline smiled wearily. “Please come in and sit down if you like. I couldn’t sleep.”
The medium, who was barefoot and dressed in a nightgown and cotton shawl, came to sit in the armchair opposite Evangeline. She placed the lamp carefully on the table between them, dimming it so that the shadows in the corners of the room, which had been briefly held at bay since her entrance, re-emerged. The feeble light flickered uncertainly and reflected off the pallid faces of the two women who now sat regarding one another.
“It’s been quite an eventful day, hasn’t it?” Evangeline offered.
“Yes, that is so.” The medium seemed on the verge of saying more but thought better of it.
Monsieur Beau chose that moment to announce his presence to the visitor. He jumped down from his place on Evangeline’s lap and perched himself on the arm of Serafina’s chair. He looked at her curiously, head tilted to one side—purring.
Evangeline raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. “Well, that’s out of character for him. He’s usually reserved around strangers.”
The medium solemnly stroked the cat’s head. “Our little protectors,” she murmured.
The mistress of the house smiled at her pet’s unabashed flirtation with the visitor. “Why do you say that? Since I don’t fear mice, I seriously doubt he could protect me from much of anything.”
“No, I do not mean the body. God made them to protect us from lies—the cats, the dogs, and all such animal friends—because they are honest.”
Evangeline laughed ruefully. “I believe you’re right. They don’t seem to have the gift for emotional deception that humans are blessed with in such abundance. Whether they love you or hate you, they don’t lie about it. Insincerity is a peculiarly human trait.”
By now Beau had hopped into Serafina’s lap, eyes glazing over in bliss while she rubbed his ears. “They do not fool us, and they do not fool themselves about us. They always know the good people from the bad.”
Evangeline contemplated the idea. “It certainly makes them ideal companions. I can’t imagine a heaven without animals in it, can you? As for our little friend’s ability to ferret out dishonesty, maybe I should just put him on a leash and let him find Euphemia’s murderer for me. Or better yet”—she brightened in the gloom—“I suppose I could just ask you. After all, you’re gifted with the second sight. The truth should be child’s play for you while I have to dig and dig for clues.”
Serafina looked over the wavering light at Evangeline. Her face was troubled. “If only I could help. Once it would have been easy. But something has happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“My guides, they have abandoned me. They will not come into the presence of such great distress.”
The lantern flame hesitated and retreated still further from the drafty air currents, throwing vague shadows across Serafina’s face.
“Whose distress?” Evangeline asked.
“My own.” Serafina’s voice was heavy with dejection. “I cannot help it. It was because...” She winced, recalling the moment. “Because I was there to watch Madame Euphemia when she—”
Evangeline intercepted the memory. “Yes, it must have been awful to witness that.”
“Si, you understand,” the medium agreed readily. “When people ask me to tell them the future, I close my eyes and I can see...”
“What?”
“Pictures of their days ahead but now when I close my eyes, all I can see... all I can see is a picture from the past. Madame Euphemia and her face as it looked in her last moments. It was like... like... what is the English word for this monstrous thing? I can remember when I was little, I saw one crouching on the roof of a church, and it frightened me so. With wings like a bat and a terrible, evil smile. Like a devil made of stone... like... oh, what is the word?” She shook her head, trying desperately to remember.
“Like a gargoyle,” her companion offered quietly. The mental picture was unnerving enough to Evangeline even though she had not been present to see Euphemia’s convulsions. She could only imagine the effect it might have on a sensitive nature like Serafina’s.
“I have too much feeling here.” The medium put her hand over her heart. “And the feeling is all bad.” She ran her fingers through her hair distractedly. “All bad. Even in my nightmares I never saw such a thing as terrible as this. And my guides will not return until I am peaceful again.” The medium paused. “I very much liked Madame Euphemia. She had a most generous spirit.”
“Indeed she had,” Evangeline agreed sadly.
“And I am more sorry still that I could not stop this thing from happening. I have taken this matter much to my conscience.” Serafina sighed heavily. “Even at the séance, I could not understand the picture that I saw.” She raised her hands helplessly.
Evangeline jumped in. “Ah yes, I recall. You saw a glass falling from her hand and shattering on the floor.”
“But I did not see the true meaning of that vision. It was not the glass that fell and shattered, it was she who fell. I did not know how to warn her, and now it is too late.”
Evangeline sat forward. “Serafina, it wasn’t your fault. You mustn’t think that!”
The medium looked down at the floor. “I have been given this gift of second sight for a purpose. It is to help people so they can avoid harm. But I could not help her and I am sorry for it.”
“Well, if it’s any comfort, I don’t think the murderer will be at liberty for long. Even if you can’t help confirm my suspicions, I’m fairly certain I’ve narrowed the field to two possible culprits.”
Serafina looked at Evangeline in surprise.
“Well, it’s either Roland or Martin.”
“You are so sure?”
Evangeline shrugged matter-of-factly. “Who else had a motive? I’ve sat here all night remembering every detail of what I saw today. Though of the two, Martin’s behavior was certainly more suspicious. Especially after I watched how he carried on this afternoon. He and I walked into the house together and both were confronted with the sad news at the same moment. He didn’t act like a grief-stricken husband. He acted like an outraged landowner who sees too many strangers traipsing through his property after he’s posted a ‘No Trespassing’ sign.”
“Perhaps that is just his way.”
“I doubt it. He used every means at his disposal to obstruct the investigation from the start. Didn’t you notice how he argued that the doctor had no right to order an autopsy? He objected even more strenuously when he was informed that Sheriff Weston wa
s on his way over. He wanted to send Roland packing the minute the sheriff was through questioning him. He didn’t want the servants questioned at all, and above all, he didn’t want me there to see any of it.”
“Why would this be?” The medium sounded puzzled.
Evangeline explained. “Perhaps you don’t remember what you told me at the séance. You said being a detective was my destiny in life.”
Serafina nodded her agreement.
“Unfortunately, under these sad circumstances, it now appears that prediction is coming true. My friend Freddie and I solved a murder awhile back. We pointed the finger at some former friends who live hereabouts. I’m sure Martin must have heard rumors about our last investigation and he’s afraid I may discover something.”
“Did you see anything that the others did not notice?”
“I think I may have done. Martin and I walked into the parlor together. I remember I looked at his face. The first place his eyes went was to the table. He saw the cordial glasses and decanter sitting there on a tray. I was struck by his expression of sheer horror. His face turned a ghastly pale. He appeared about to move toward the table when the doctor came up behind us and said nothing in the room was to be touched until the sheriff arrived.”
“But perhaps he was only upset to see the place where his wife had died. Perhaps it was grief.”
“Perhaps it was guilt,” Evangeline countered. She paused, thinking aloud. “And yet, he wasn’t in the house when the poison was administered. Perhaps he’s covering for Roland. Why else would he want his nephew out of the house so quickly? Roland was the one who actually served Euphemia the sherry. I’m sure he had a motive too. Since you told me he brought the cordials in as a peace offering, he’d probably had a rift with his aunt. Maybe she’d threatened to cut off his inheritance. Maybe she suspected he was somehow involved in the drowning at Hyperion. You did, after all, see that poor girl’s ghost hovering behind his chair at the séance. If I was able to put two and two together, I’m sure Euphemia did as well.” Her voice held a note of anxious appeal. “Can you help me understand this? Can you sense anything at all about which one of them did it?”
Serafina squeezed her eyes shut tight for a moment. She seemed to be engaged in a mental battle with herself to overcome the image that was ever-present to her, to try to see beyond the horror of Euphemia’s last moments. When she reopened her eyes, they held an expression of despair. “It is no use. She is still with me. I can only see a little beyond. Flashes of things here and there. Jumbled pictures that make no sense. Of the young Roland, I can see nothing at all. Of Mr. Allworthy, all I see is fear. He is haunted by something even worse than what I feel. As before, I see him with a heavy weight of chains around his neck, around his back. But this time I see him in water.”
“A pool?” Evangeline prompted.
“No, deep water. Like a river or lake or maybe even an ocean. His feet do not touch the bottom. He is terrified of something. He can swim but the weight of these chains is very heavy and that is what pulls him down. I do not see what surrounds him, but I feel that he will pull down whoever is near him to keep his own head above the water.”
“Interesting.” Evangeline looked up as a strong gust of wind stirred the curtains to life. They billowed like sails. “I’m sure he’ll do something to cover his tracks, or Roland’s for that matter.”
“Maybe that is an explanation for my dream.”
“Your dream?”
“Yes, that is why I came looking for you.” Serafina’s voice became urgent. “I wished to find you, to tell you. It is the only clear image I have had of anything since this terrible tragedy happened. It was so clear it woke me up, and sometimes when a dream is strong the feeling of it will stay with me for many hours after I wake. You have felt like this, perhaps?”
“Yes, that’s one reason why I prefer not to remember my dreams if I can help it.”
“This dream, you were in it as well.”
“Really?” Evangeline sat forward on the couch, intrigued.
“It was night. Very late, as it is now. You and I, we were standing in a small field, and the field was surrounded by water.”
“An island in the middle of a river?”
Serafina frowned in deep concentration, trying to recall the image. “It was not exactly so. The water ran around and around the land. Where it started, it also ended.”
“More like a moat around a castle,” Evangeline offered helpfully.
“Yes, it was like that. A ring of water around a field, and we stood in the middle of this field.”
“Just like the bull’s-eye of an archery target.”
“Unfortunately, that is like what it was. For the arrow tries to find the bull’s-eye of a target, does it not?”
“Yes,” Evangeline confirmed guardedly. “I don’t particularly like the analogy. Are we the target?”
“I fear something like this. Though it is not an arrow. This place that I was speaking of. We are standing in the middle of it in high grass. And all around I hear sounds that are like... like...” she paused, casting about for the right word. “Like a hissing and slithering.”
“You mean snakes in the grass?”
“Yes, yes!” Serafina agreed intensely. “That is the picture. There are snakes crawling everywhere around us, but it is dark and the grass is high, and it is very hard to see where they are hiding.”
“Are we in any danger?” Evangeline was disturbed by the image.
“I fear so, for these snakes all have poison in their fangs. Wherever we walk, if we tread on them, they will strike.”
“Well, that’s disconcerting. What happened next?”
“In my dream, you took me by the hand and said, ‘Look, Serafina, there is a path here. We can go this way. You see, there is a boat down by the water if we can only get to it. I will show you.’”
“And then?” Evangeline urged.
“And then I woke up,” the medium finished weakly. “I heard the clock strike and... and... that is all.”
“How very disappointing.” Evangeline had gone from being enthralled to mystified. “What do you make of it?”
“That is what I came to tell you. I think there is danger coming to us. To you and to me in the days ahead. But my dream is saying you will find a path for us to get away from this deadly place. You will know what to do.”
“I suppose that’s meant to be comforting, but I have no idea how your premonition will unfold or what I’m meant to do when the time comes.”
“It is enough for me to know that you will pick out a path for us. You will find a way for us to get to safety.”
“Let’s hope so, though I’m not sure your confidence in my ability as a scout is justified.” Evangeline shivered as the breeze gusted the curtains once more. She rubbed her arms to keep warm and rose to leave. “I think I’ll try to sleep for a few hours. I doubt anything I meet in my dreams will be as disturbing as what I’ve just heard. Are you coming?”
“No, I believe I will stay here for some while longer with our little friend. He is so calm, perhaps I will catch the sleepiness, too.”
Monsieur Beau had begun his sonorous breathing again, a signal that he was now slumbering in the medium’s lap. Serafina stroked the cat’s neck. He stretched briefly in his sleep.
“He is smiling. Do you know that cats can smile?” she asked.
“Yes, I’ve often observed it. Whenever I mention that fact to other people, they look at me as if I’ve taken leave of my senses.”
“They have eyes but they do not see.” Serafina quoted Scripture, evidently thinking once again of her own obscured vision.
“Still, I suppose that in order to see something you have to be looking for it in the first place.”
“Perhaps that is what the Christ was saying, too.”
Evangeline laughed. “Yes, but I doubt the subject under discussion at the time was smiling cats.” She paused and looked at her guest fixedly for a moment. “Will you be all right?”
Serafina nodded. “Si, it will take time, but all will be well.”
Evangeline relaxed her concern slightly. “Good night, then.” She walked toward the door. “You needn’t wish me pleasant dreams. I’ve had enough waking nightmares to last me quite a while.”
Chapter 15—Portrait Of A Lady
Suitable For Framing
Even though Evangeline had slept to the unheard-of hour of ten o’clock in the morning, sleep had done little to dispel the fatigue and foreboding that had pursued her since the previous evening. Her dissipated state was at least partially due to the manner in which Delphine startled her into consciousness by sweeping peremptorily into the bedroom, raising the shades to a glaring burst of sunlight, and huffing several times about the deleterious effects to the complexion of sleeping late. To this Evangeline retorted that she was in more immediate danger of the deleterious effects of a heart attack after being shocked awake in such a rude manner. Delphine, having created as much distress as she possibly could to ensure that her mistress was completely alert, left the room highly satisfied.
When the lady of the house finally could bring herself to stumble over to her dressing room mirror, she scarcely believed anyone would take notice of her sallow complexion since the shadows beneath her eyes dominated every other feature. She sighed, rose to the occasion and made a supreme, though futile, effort to repair the damage with several layers of face powder. After this she went downstairs to see if her house guest had breakfasted.
When she inquired of Delphine as to Serafina’s whereabouts, the housekeeper sniffed that Mademoiselle Serafina and her maid had gone to mass, as all good Catholics ought to have done on Sunday. Since this was an old bone of contention between the housekeeper and her employer, the latter wisely decided not to rise to the bait. She simply wasn’t up to the challenge on an empty stomach. Ignoring the comment, and with as much dignity as she could muster, she asked Delphine if her own breakfast had been arranged or if she was to suffer the pangs of hunger along with fatigue for the rest of the morning.
Shrouded In Thought (Gilded Age Mysteries Book 2) Page 15
