I’d never seen him quite so determined to get to the bottom of this. When I considered that we had the backing of a detective, a university, and a paranormal team, it seemed like our next move would have to be a big one.
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” a voice came from the back entrance.
My heart was in my throat. That voice was familiar – very familiar.
22
“Elspeth?”
“Yes, Harry. It’s me. Just what are all of you doing in the basement?” Elspeth asked.
“We could ask the same of you,” Giles responded. It was then I noticed a gun in her hand.
“What’s with the weapon?”
She tucked the pistol into her tote bag.
“Sorry. I picked up the habit of gun toting while in New York City. You can’t be too careful when you’re poking around a place like this, can you?” She tried to shake it off as a precaution, but I wasn’t so sure.
“I didn’t want to get arrested for trespassing,” Elspeth continued. She moved closer to Harry.
Harry spoke up. “My dear, you know we are all trespassing. This is technically a crime scene.”
“I realize that. My friend, Austin, died upstairs. He was using this as a headquarters for research on Dr. Bason. Austin and I went way back. I don’t believe his death was a suicide. I thought if I looked around, I might find something that the police didn’t,” Elspeth seemed sincere, but this was all by flashlight so how could we tell?
“Why didn’t you come forward if you knew who this supposed vagrant was?” I asked.
“I wanted to, but Austin has a prison record from his time in juvie. I wasn’t sure how that would reflect on me. I’m new in town and that automatically makes people suspicious. If I revealed that I had an ex-criminal as a part-time employee, then I’d never hear the end of it. My business would collapse, and I’d have to leave without knowing the truth,” Elspeth was in tears.
“Let’s get out of here and have a proper conversation in somewhere other than a basement in a haunted house,” Harry suggested.
“What do you suggest?” Giles asked.
“How about the dining room upstairs? It’s spacious and for the time being quiet. The construction crew next door has quit for the day so we should be undisturbed,” Harry noted.
I wasn’t exactly comfortable with this arrangement, but we needed to keep Elspeth talking.
“Now that we are settled, let’s have the entire story. Who are you and why are you here?” Harry wasted no words. “We’ve got nowhere else to go, so spill.”
It always helps to have someone with an authoritarian voice skills and Harry’s was superb. Elspeth’s hands trembled and she began with her entrance into this world as a byproduct of a tryst between a McIlhenny and one of the student workers. She was given another name and placed into a foster care facility. Later her mother Trudy McIlhenny claimed her child, and they moved south. Elspeth was well into her twenties before she learned anything about her true heritage. Elspeth or “El” had always been told that her father died in the war. Trudy never married so all was well until her death. A will along with a letter detailing Elspeth’s birth came to light when neighbors came to help her move. Elspeth knew nothing of her family in Louisiana, her claim to the Tabasco fortune, or who was her biological father.
Elspeth continued. She looked around the table at all of us. I suppose she was expecting some sort of emotion. My mind was busy constructing a way to tell Carol that would soften the blow.
“I hired a detective who traced our family tree. I wanted to connect with relatives, so I took my savings and came here. I read about the hotel and thought I might buy it, but alas I learned that it wasn’t for sale. I got the scoop about Dr. Bason, the haunting rumors, and Carol’s inheritance. Austin came along because we had been friends – just friends – in college. I asked him to move in with me – temporarily – but he wound up ‘squatting’ in the hotel. I warned him not to do that, but did he listen? No. And just look what happened,” Elspeth dabbed her eyes.
“Did Austin have friends or relatives here?” Giles inquired.
“I don’t believe so,” Elspeth said. “He only needed a place to sleep He’d spend the day photographing nature, flowers, historic furniture, ladies wear, or whatever caught his fancy. He had an eclectic taste and sold photographs to all sorts. Why Austin even sold one to National Geographic Magazine. I gave him a few hours of work in the coffee shop just so he could survive. Austin was a true talent and I will miss him,” Elspeth’s shoulders shook. I reckoned that we were about to witness a crying jag.
“Let’s turn our attentions to other theories. What if – perchance – Austin photographed something he shouldn’t, and he paid for it with his life? We’ve not explored that avenue of reasoning. Maybe Detective Grimes should have this information that Elspeth has divulged. It may just be the missing part of this puzzle,” I tried to sound hopeful.
“In all the commotion, I almost forgot. Austin mailed film for me to develop. I just picked up the photos on my way. I haven’t looked at them yet. Do you suppose this is a clue as to killed him and why?” Elspeth rummaged around in her huge tote bag and emerged with a brown envelop marked Walgreens Photos.
“Well it can’t hurt to look at them. Turn up the lights and see if you can locate a magnifying glass,” Uncle Harry requested. Although Harry’s requests always sound more like orders.
Elspeth pulled a sheaf of photographs from her tote. We passed each one around the table. The light was better, but we were still straining to make out faces. Suddenly Giles called our attention to one in particular.
“That’s Carol’s lawyer, Walter Post, isn’t it?” Giles pointed to a photograph of two men. One of them had his back to the camera but the other figure was a bespeckled Post – no doubt about it. They appeared to be loading boxes into a van. Supplies of some kind, but what kind?
“Harry, can I borrow that magnifying glass?” my husband asked. Harry seemed to have located one that we had left in the hotel when we were pricing objects for auction.
Giles picked up the photograph and held it up to the light with the magnifier in front of it.
“I think I know why your friend was murdered,” he told Elspeth. “It seems Austin photographed a drug smuggling ring. The boxes are marked with pharmaceutical jargon. The best I can make out is fentanyl, methamphetamine, and some type of opioids. Look Harry. Don’t you agree?”
Harry took the photograph from Giles and examined it. He nodded.
The rest of us sifted through the pictures for more evidence of drugs or identification of the other man involved.
We found a candid of Mr. Post and the mystery man having a cigarette in the basement. The background showed stacks of boxes in Dr. Bason’s old lab. The snapshot was clear as day. The pharmacy markings were international in origin and its contents marked for delivery to a neighboring hospital.
“So that’s why Carol’s lawyer wasn’t up for her to see the property without first getting appraisals and inspections. He was dragging it out so he could transfer his illegal stash,” I said in a huff. “Just wait until I get my hands on that good for nothing ambulance chaser.”
“Now honey. We need to go through the authorities and make sure these drug dealers don’t get away with it. Carol has to be notified and of course Detective Grimes.”
I agreed and put a temporary lid on my anger. Taking advantage of my friends was top on my fury list. Post was using Carol’s inheritance to feather his own pockets. I hoped that he would never get out of jail.
23
Detective Grimes got the ball rolling. The team tracked Walter Post to a hideaway that he purchased on the coast of Georgia. Along with the local police, Mr. Post was arrested for drug dealing. The opioids and fentanyl products were taken into custody to be held as evidence. No doubt Mr. Post would be out of practicing law in Georgia or anywhere else. Police photographic experts were able to analyze the remaining snapshots and thanks to Aus
tin’s snapshots a doctor at the Rutledge hospital was also arrested. It seems the duo had found a ready market for their wares in the local prison.
The doc arranged for the drugs to ‘drop off a truck’ so to speak. Post and some local thugs unloaded and housed the contraband at the old hotel lab until they could be transported and sold at the prison. It had been quite a lucrative arrangement until Austin’s discovery.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her. Dr. Beasley and I fueled the haunted rumors to keep people away. Austin found out and before I could bribe him, he’d obviously passed on evidence. It was the doc who came up with the idea of a fake suicide. I’m not a violent man,” Post whined.
Post confessed to being complicit in Austin’s death. He swore that this was to have been their last shipment.
Post didn’t know of Austin’s connection to Elspeth McIlhenny, but he had figured out that Austin had compromising photographs. Fortunately, Austin had mailed the films before he was discovered.
Post and Beasley had discussed detonating a bomb in Hotel Rutherford to destroy any evidence they may have missed. When the heavy machinery arrived next door, it was more difficulty to get in and out of the hotel without being spotted. The discovery of Dr.Bison’s test subjects further raised the stakes. Forensic scientists, history buffs, and locals swarmed the lot next door curiously examining anything the construction workers discovered.
“We were forced to do everything at night. We set up sound machines and equipment to produce evidence of ghosts. This was enough to keep most people out of the hotel. But not Thomas and his paranormal looky loos. I was preparing to post signs warning of building collapse if he had proceeded. How did this get so complicated? I was looking to pick up a few bucks and look what has happened?” The local press ate it up.
My heart wasn’t tender toward Post or Beasley. They got what they deserved. Grimes’ connections in Jekyll picked up Post and transported him to stand trial. Beasley was picked up right away. Both he and Post were stripped of all their professional credentials.
After a few days of adrenaline highs, I had to return to normal. Deadlines and reality crept in.
Elspeth, Carol, and Doris were meeting at the coffee shop. Carol asked me to join them.
~
“I still miss Austin. We were just friends, but he understood what I was looking for when I moved here. He didn’t have strong family ties, so I suppose he lived vicariously in mine. We talked about moving in together just for economy sake and planting a garden. I wanted to experiment with herbal teas, remedies, and curatives that Native Americans used,” Elspeth sighed.
“Were you and Austin a couple” Doris nudged me.
“What? I think it’s a valid question under the circumstance,” I said.
“No, we once were but decided we were better as friends,” Elspeth smiled.
“Carol and I wanted to have a coffee shop, that is before you came along,” Doris blurted out.
“Another dream that won’t be realized.”
“There, there. We all have dreams, don’t we?” Carol patted Doris on the back sympathizing with her.
Harry set his latte down at our table. He clearly ignored the fact that this was to be a private conversation. He heard the last snippet of our discussion and came to Doris’ defense.
“Hold on,” Harry piped up. “I have a little greenhouse that is full of herbs, spices, and greenery that you can use in making your teas. I am just learning, but that’s the fun of it. You are welcome to help me with my little experiments. I’m taking classes at the university on natural cures. Here’s an idea. Why don’t you take the class too?”
Elspeth blushed. “I just might do that.”
“What about Austin’s remains?” I changed the subject. “Does he have family at all?”
“None that I know of. I was thinking of having Austin’s body cremated and when my garden is a reality, I’ll sprinkle his ashes there.”
Carol had been unusually quiet since Doris’ little outburst. Suddenly she piped up. It was like all that she had been through churned out of her at once.
“But what about the hotel, Theodora, and all the remains found on the property. No one would ever want to buy it. What am I going to do? It’s too expensive to keep it up and who wants to be in a place that’s filled with poltergeist?” she wailed.
“You heard Post confess that Theodora wasn’t real; the hotel isn’t really haunted. He kept up that rumor to keep folks away,” Harry reminded her.
We were in Elspeth’s tea shop. It was still early so our cadre were the only customers.
“I think I can answer that,” an unfamiliar voice accompanied a tall handsome gentleman who’d just entered the shop.
“I’m Jefferson Daw, curator of the university’s museum of fine art. I believe our faculty would be interested in obtaining this property for various research and possible tourist enterprises.” He handed his card around to all of us.
“Ms. Carol McIlhenny Pickford?”
“Yes, that’s me.” Carol blushed five shades of red as she responded to the gentleman.
“I understand that you are the rightful owner of said property.”
“Yes. I am.”
“Would you consider discussing the possible sale of said property with the university president and myself?” Mr. Daw waited for her answer.
“I would be very interested,” Carol responded. “I’d be VERY interested too,” Doris whispered. Everyone else was silent. You could hear the proverbial pin drop.
“Would tomorrow at 11:00 o’clock be convenient?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful. President Lockhart and I will look forward to it.” With that, Mr. Daw left as silently as he had appeared.
We looked at each other. Did that just happen? I wanted to pinch myself and shout for joy all at the same time. Suddenly the world was right again.
Carol was beet red, laughing with tears streaming. “Maybe this will work out after all.”
She turned to Doris, “Perhaps we can have that little shop after all.”
“Now that we’ve settled that. What’s everyone doing this weekend? Harry sipped his latte like he knew that this adventure would end pleasantly. He took Elspeth’s hand and patted it. “What about that herbology class?” he whispered.
“I was thinking of target practice at the range,” Elspeth replied.
“You are just full of surprises,” Harry said.
“I need to finish Deadly Diva. I think I’ve come up with just the right ending. My editor will be thrilled.” I said.
“Just think, Carol. If we put our gift shop in Hotel Rutherford, we could sell Stephanie’s books, Harry’s herbal teas, and coffee cups that say Theodora. What do you say?”.
No response from Doris.
With one motion, we turned to see Carol had stuffed a croissant into Doris’ mouth. Carol smiled as she sipped her latte.
“We’ve been friends for a long time,” she whispered.
Sheila S. Hudson
161 Woodstone Drive
Athens GA 30605
706-296-7056
[email protected]
www.sheilahudson.website.com
Activities:
Southeastern Writers’ Association, 1993-Present; SWA Board Member
Infinite Writer – Columnist 2008
Purple Pros – Columnist 1997 – 2005
Grand Magazine – Columnist 2010
University of Georgia:Learning in Retirement – Instructor
Books:
Bright Ideas to Make Your Writing Sparkle, Winged Publications
Murder in the Classic Center (3) Winged Publications
Classic City Murders (2) Thomas Max Publishers
Ministry Can Be Murder series (2) Winged Publications and Audible
Silent Partner series (3) Winged Publications and Audible
The Thursday Club series (7) Winged Publications
13 Decisions That Will Change Your Life, Dancing with Bear Publis
hing
13 Decisions That Will Transform Your Marriage, Dancing with Bear Publishing
Current Publications:
Writing Opens Doors, Boom Magazine, 2018.
Pray Expectantly, Christian Standard, 2011.
Waiting for a Miracle, Christian Standard, 2011.
A Tale of Tea Cakes, Grit Magazine, 2010.
Grandma’s Glasses, Patchwork Path, Treasure Box, 2010.
Grandfather’s Ring, Patchwork Path, Treasure Box, 2010.
Gift of Normandy Beach, Patchwork Path, Christmas Stocking, 2010.
Home Grown Talent, Athens Magazine, January 2010.
Did God Make Michael Wrong?Athens Parent, March 2009.
Forgiveness: Not an Option, Lookout Magazine, Nov. 2, 2008.
Transform, Athena Magazine, March 2008.
PLEASE CONTACT ME ABOUT WRITING AND SPEAKING OPPORTUNITIES. ALL BOOKS ARE AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM
Murder in the Classic City Page 14
