The Secret of Bourke's Mansion

by Carolyn (Moyer) Swayze

  THE SECRET OF

  BOURKE’S MANSION

  by Carolyn (Moyer) Swayze

  First published by AVALON BOOKS

  Copyright 1977 by Carolyn Moyer

  All rights reserved.

  First e-book edition: October 2011

  Published by Pacific Place Publishing

  ISBN: 978-0-9869610-6-9

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  It was exactly one year ago that Kate had seen the advertisement in the newspaper. After a tedious day as one of many legal secretaries employed by a large conglomerate, the ad seemed to leap out at her from the long list of employment opportunities.

  HELP WANTED: MALE OR FEMALE

  I need an active co-worker to assist in the establishment of a new business. This person must be healthy, intelligent, adaptable, bondable, and quick to learn. Mediocre wage and uncertain hours. Applicants please form line at office door, 600 Dominion St., 9:00 a.m., Saturday.

  Saturday was a free day, so she had time to locate the obscure address just before nine. The office was a dismal affair. The dirty windows still proclaimed the previous tenant, “Hogan’s Second­hand Store—Small Loans.”

  She saw a barrel-chested man jogging up the street toward her and speculated that he might be her prospective employer. He stopped at the doorway, eyed Kate with exaggerated dubious­ness, and made a great show of looking for the line of applicants. Then with a broad and boyish grin, he stuck out a large hand. “Hi! I’m Greville Carlson. I am affable and extremely ambitious.”

  As Kate groped for words, he continued, “And you must be my active co-worker, executive assistant, and fellow fool.”

  “I’m Kate O’Brian, nobody’s fool,” she retorted, “and I’m not your ‘active co-worker’ yet. I merely thought that it would be interesting to inquire into the nature of the proposed position.” She flushed hotly.

  “Okay”—he smiled—”we’ve established that you are capable of speaking a few words on your own behalf. Come in to what will soon be a well- appointed realty office—and a very exclusive one at that, I might add.”

  He made coffee in the shambles of the former pawnshop while he alternated between asking her about herself and filling her in on his plans for the business. Kate listened in dazed amazement. He didn’t just want to sell real estate, he told her. He wanted, rather, to be a patron of special proper­ties, buying and selling unusual holdings or businesses. The firm would then be unique and could command a high commission schedule. He knew that it would be a great success and that he would become a wealthy man. Then, he continued, she could draw a substantial salary as an equal partner as her reward for her loyal and creative contribution to the firm.

  “By this time next year, you should be snugly ensconced in a plushly paneled office with a gold plate on your door, ‘Kate O’Brian—Executive Director.’ I hope you will agree to take the job.

  You’ll be perfect for it. Besides,” he continued seriously, “you’re my only applicant.”

  Until she finished at the law firm, she met Grev each day after work to help him scrub and clean the place. Slowly, they began to redecorate, and by the time she reported for her first full day of work, they had worked wonders. The result didn’t look in the least like a realty office, which suited them both. It looked somewhat like a homey living room. Even the battered old desk and ancient typewriter seemed domestic rather than commer­cial, and the general effect was most pleasing.

  It had not been a mistake. The business had prospered, attracting exactly the kind of client and properties they had hoped for. It had been an exhausting and challenging year, but for Kate the hard work had been justified by the high level of confidence and competence that she had attained.

  Now the staff had been increased with the hiring of salesman Allan Adams.

  On the whole, everything was going very well, Kate thought with some satisfaction. She glanced contentedly around the office, noting that it still retained the congenial atmosphere that had been her aim when she and Grev decorated and furnished it in the beginning.

  They had argued then. Yes, she recalled, they had argued bitterly about which type of painting to hang over the jagged gouges on the old plaster walls. Grev had proudly brought his collection of seascapes and outdoor scenes.

  “No. Those won’t do at all,” she had protested firmly. “Every sterile, glossy office hangs that type in a vain effort to bring warmth to the surroundings. Besides, they are much too large. What we need are small, nostalgic scenes.”

  He had defiantly hung a three-by-five seascape beside his desk. A week later it was gone. “You were right,” he admitted. “It was overwhelming. Besides, it made me seasick.”

  And now Grev was gone, as he often was these days, this time to look into an estate sale of a large property on one of the Gulf Islands and to do some fishing as well.

  Allan Adams had been with them just a month, and his restlessness today was making Kate slightly uneasy. She knew his frustration stemmed from his inability to resolve the assignment Grev had given him. As though reading her thoughts, Allan said, “Kate, when is that boss of mine coming back to the fold?”

  She smiled encouragingly as she folded her newspaper. “He should be back any day now.” If ambition was any indication, Allan was going to be a great asset to the firm. Grev had mischievous­ly asked him to find permanent accommodation for the members of a string quartet who wanted to do their practicing at home. The problem was particularly difficult as all members had large families and limited incomes.

  “Have you come up with any brilliant solution to that nasty assignment?” she asked.

  “Well, I have one possible idea,” he said, drumming his fingers impatiently. “Obviously, not many landlords want to lease apartments to four musicians, but I’m wondering about that old white elephant of a four-plex over on Yorkshire. It’s surrounded by warehouses, so there would be no question of their disturbing the neighbors. They think it would be a great arrangement but the problem, of course, is that they would have to buy it. Between them, they can manage the down payment. However, it’s a bit dicey trying to arrange a mortgage for four free-lancers. I imagine Grev would be able to advise me on that.”

  “I expect he could,” she said. “I must say that I’m impressed with your ingenuity. We’ve had the four-plex and the quartet on our hands for months.”

  Just then the phone rang. “Good morning, Carlson Realty.”

  Grev’s voice boomed. “Katie, I’ve just come ashore. I’d sure appreciate seeing a friendly face and mooching a ride to the office.”

  Kate glanced at Allan’s expectant face. “I’ll send your resourceful new salesman down. He’d like to talk to you.”

  “Later. Yours is the friendly face I want to see.”

  “I’m on my way,” she said, swallowing her surprise.

  When she had accepted the job, Grev had told her that it would be wise to be aware that they were both single and that a lot of valuable time would be wasted if they tried to make something of that meaningless fact. They were a team working together to accomplish a specific goal, he said, and progress would only be impeded by emotional involvements. He had added that if their relationship ever became anyth
ing other than a business one, it would ultimately make it impossible for them to work together as he had no intention of marrying until he had made his million and reached thirty.

  She was startled now to realize how acutely she had missed him. As she watched the ferry slide gently in its berth, gulls screaming over the backwash, she felt the contentment and happiness of the past year in jeopardy.

  In just a few minutes she saw a familiar bulky shape jogging toward the parking lot. He folded into the seat beside her and beamed happily. “I missed you! I didn’t know I would miss you. Did you miss me?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at the unabashed confession. “Yes,” she said. “For some curious reason, I missed you too.”

  He patted her hand. “That’s good—I think. Let’s go for an early lunch and I’ll tell you all about the estate we now own.”

  They bought fish and chips at the concession in the park. As they sat on the seawall in the sun, he explained the situation to Kate.

  Their new holding consisted of one hundred acres facing the ocean on the tip of Garrett Island, one of numerous small islands dotting the Georgia Strait. The property was the site of an attractive house that had been built by Joseph Courtenay, a retired officer of the British Navy. When he passed away, some years ago, it had come into the hands of his daughter and her husband, the Bourkes, who had lived there until their recent deaths in the crash of a private plane. The Bourkes’ sole heir, a niece living in England, had no interest in retaining the property and had instructed her solicitors to dispose of the entire estate as quickly as possible.

  “I’m surprised that she didn’t at least come to see it,” Grev said. “The house is a treasure trove of antiques of all sorts. There’s quite a few Indian artifacts that I’m anxious to have assessed as well as an impressive British collection. Who knows— one valuable item alone may compensate us for the cost of the entire estate!”

  Kate listened with interest but was distracted by the sun catching golden hairs on his brown hands as he talked. She was aware of his nearness, and it disturbed her.

  “You’d love the place, Kate. Beautiful. As for the house itself, well, I could talk about it for hours. It’s almost a manor house, right out of a British novel. The year-round population on Garrett Island is very small but in the summer months, I understand, it’s a haven for city-dwellers who come for a taste of wilderness.”

  As they drove back to the office, he told her more and asked her advice on several of the details. He commented that there was a trunk filled with photo albums, stamp and coin collections.

  “The place sounds like an easy target for vandals,” Kate observed.

  “Exactly my concern,” he replied emphatically. “But we can’t do too much organizing until we thoroughly check it out. The combination of seemingly valuable antiques scattered about with everyday utensils and furnishings makes a confusing situation.”

  “Oh, the Bourkes weren’t really collectors, then?” she asked as he guided the car through the crush of noon-hour traffic.

  “You know, I’m not sure. It could be that old Mr. Courtenay was the collector and they were not aware of what they had. Tulley’s Auctions will be interested in handling the appraisal and disposal for us, but I’d like to have someone from the museum or university look over the Indian items.”

  “How are you planning on creating order out of the chaos so far from the office?”

  “You know, I was just thinking that you are about due for a holiday. Could I talk you into taking a week or so over there, resting, exploring, and playing the manor lady?”

  “I know, I know,” she continued sardonically. “And while I’m there I could catalogue and sort things in my spare time. Right?”

  “Well, it does rain now and then on the islands so perhaps that would give you something to do on a rainy day. Please, Kate,” he continued earnestly, “it’s our best acquisition to date and you’re the only one I’d trust with it.”

  She decided that an island soj ourn was just what she needed.

  Chapter 2

  The next day at work, Kate received a call from Tulley’s Auctions advising of the date of their next sale. She spoke to Grev about it.

  “Tulley’s would like that inventory within two weeks as they want to have the auction catalogue printed. Do you think we can make it that soon?”

  “Hmm. Katie, I really think two weeks would be rushing it. I don’t like the idea of speeding through a job like that. How about if I pop over about mid­week to see how it’s going? Then we can decide whether or not it can be done. If not, we’ll wait for the next auction. As I said, I want a professional opinion on nearly everything.”

  “Okay,” Kate said, “I’ll do what I can. Besides, I’d like to drag the job out a bit so that you and Allan will appreciate just how much work I really do around here,” she teased.

  “Hey,” he said, gently touching the tip of her chin, “I already know and I do appreciate you. Really.”

  To her great annoyance, she blushed. In some confusion, she bent her head and shuffled through some papers on her desk. When she looked up, Grev was walking out the door. Allan Adams was watching her with amusement.

  “That’s not very original, Kate, falling for the boss. I thought you were more unique than that.”

  “Allan, he is my partner, not my boss. I have not fallen for anyone. It’s merely one of my handicaps that I blush when receiving a compliment.”

  Wanting to be alone to sort out her feelings, she left the office to walk in the midrmorning sun. She quickly decided that there was no cause for confusion. “After all,” she said to herself firmly, “Grev made his position and plans perfectly clear long ago. Besides, I’m looking forward to a trip to Ireland this spring.”

  Stopping at a department store, she purchased jeans and a squall jacket. Yes, I’m going to enjoy this assignment, she decided. “A challenging diversion is just what I need to keep everything in perspective.”

  The remainder of the day passed quickly with Kate busily looking after numerous office details. There were so many items to finish up and things to explain to Grev and Allan about the workings of the office.

  The mortgage arrangement on the four-plex was at last settled satisfactorily, and Allan was smugly pleased with his first sale.

  “Well, that should be all,” Kate said at five o’clock, sighing. “I’m going home to pack my survival gear. The ferry leaves at eight a.m. Such a lovely time of day for a cruise. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “Katie, my girl,” said Grev. “In view of the fact that you’ll be a bachelor, so to speak, under rather primitive conditions, let me take you out for a good sustaining dinner before you head off into the wilds.”

  “I’d enjoy that, thank you. I’ll just call Lynn so she’ll not be expecting me.”

  The evening was fun and silly as they got to talking and laughing about the early months of their business venture. Their inexperience had resulted in one disaster after another.

  “Katie, I never would have made it through those days without you.” Grev stopped her as she tried to protest. “I often think of your loyalty and good sense. I wish I could adequately say thank you.”

  “You’ve been grand to work with and I’ve enjoyed it as well,” Kate said, the color rising in her cheeks. “So we’ve both benefited.”

  She felt inexplicably sad. Reminiscences are for partings, she brooded. She sensed a finality, the end of an era. She presumed that her growing emotions concerning Grev had betrayed her.

  “Katie,” said Grev suddenly, “will you ever be able to think of me as any more than just a business partner?”

  Kate caught her breath. “Do you want me to?” she asked.

  “Yes, more and more, everyday. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Well,” she said carefully, “let’s not say anything we’ll regret later. We can both think about it while I’m on the island.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said happily. Then
the conversation drifted back to shoptalk.

  “How do you think Allan is going to make out with us?” she asked.

  “You know, I’m vaguely uneasy about him, although I really couldn’t say why.”

  “He certainly seems clever, Grev, and he’s very ambitious.”

  “Perhaps that’s what disturbs me; he’s simply too ambitious.”

  “That’s ridiculous reasoning. You’ve always valued ambition as a positive asset. I think you’re getting ornery in your old age,” she teased.

  He shook his head. “I guess we’ll just wait and watch. And now it’s time to get you home.”

  At home, Kate’s thought were in a state of confusion. Sleep was further hampered by unbidden images of Grev popping up each time she closed her eyes. Finally she abandoned the tangled bed and quietly made her way out to the balcony, trying not to disturb her roommate.

  She caught her breath in response to the sights, scents, and sounds of the city below. All of the city lights seemed to lean longingly toward the ocean. Such a beautiful night, and yet she felt strangely depressed.

  “Kate, what’s the matter? You should be sleeping. You have a big day ahead of you.”

  “Oh, Lynn, you frightened me. I hope I didn’t wake you?”

  “Never mind about that. You really look low. What’s the matter?” Lynn repeated, eyeing Kate levelly.

  Kate considered carefully before speaking. She had known Lynn for the past year and it had always surprised her that they had managed to survive as joint tenants of the apartment. She had advertised for someone to share living expenses when she started with Carlson Realty, and Lynn had been the solution. Although the time had passed when she needed the financial assistance, and in fact Lynn had been regularly broke due to unemployment, there seemed no pressing reason to discontinue the arrangement. Still, she had never understood Lynn enough to have developed an intimate relationship with her. Maybe that was Kate’s fault, as Lynn certainly seemed ready to be a good friend and listener.