by A. L. Duncan
“Unfortunately, my father’s idea of retirement is lying in an oak box.”
“What is it that drives him so?” Collier asked. “If only I had half his energy. Humph!”
The Major had descended the stairs and barked in his approach, “If I had a stronger leg, Doctor, the only thing you’d see of me would be a blur.”
“God had to slow you down somehow, Denys,” Collier said with a jest. “Your leg forces you to have some patience.”
“Patience? There is no time for patience when England is so desperate for resolutions. As it is, I only have the one good leg to kick people in the ass. Somebody’s got to be out there ridding the realm of its evils.”
Collier donned his hat. “Well, if we want to keep you in ass-kicking form, we’d best be checking that leg.”
“Let’s be on with it.” The Major stepped through the door and exhaled a grumbling Shakespeare, “Oh, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, and not in fear of your nativity. Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth in strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth is with a kind of colic, pinched and vexed by the imprisoning of unruly wind within her womb.”
“Right,” breathed Collier. Turning to Ilene and Janie, Collier added in a whisper, “I’ll see if he won’t stay a couple of days. He could use a good checkup. I’ll bring him back when I return to check Oliver’s leg.”
HAVING LEFT ILENE to chat with Anna and Liz in the foyer, Janie occupied herself in the library, attempting to take her mind off torturing questions that drifted through, ceaselessly wondering about her past. Who was she? And what had she done to make the Major want to kill her?
As if summoned by her thoughts, the Major entered the library.
Ilene’s voice came from down the hall. “Let me help you, Father.”
“Nonsense darling,” he shouted behind him. “It’ll only be a spit.”
Ilene appeared at the doorway. “Are you sure?”
“I’m grabbing a letter to London. Thought I’d let Collier mail it for me.”
She smiled and departed. “Alright, then.”
With a clear view from where she stood on the balcony above, Janie watched him hurry over to the desk. He pulled a key from his trouser pocket and unlocked the top corner drawer. While he took out an envelope and stuffed it into his pocket, her attention was drawn to a small cufflink in the same drawer. It was gold with sapphire inlay, the twin to the one she had found on the skeleton in the cave. Was there any way hers could have made its way into that desk drawer?
After he left, Janie went down the hall and up the stairs. She pulled a small envelope from the pocket of a cardigan hanging in the closet in her room. She dumped the contents into her palm. The cufflink she had found was still in her possession.
She was horrified at the possibility that raised. Hairs rose on the back of her neck as she peeked out into the hallway. The Major was going into his room. Because of its location relative to her room, Janie was able to watch see him stop at a short chest. She ducked back inside her room until he went down the stairs, then she sneaked up the hallway. When Bartley suddenly stepped out of the Major’s room, it startled both of them.
“Geez, Bartley...I was um...just wondering if you needed any help with the Major’s things.”
He frowned, but politely replied, “No. But thank you.”
“Sure. Any time.”
She stood in the doorway and Bartley, carrying a suitcase, had to slide past her. He turned to reach for the knob, but she gestured for him to proceed. “That’s all right,” she said. “I’ll get that for you.”
Raising an eyebrow at her eagerness to help, Bartley hesitated before moving to the steps.
Janie pretended to close the door, when in fact she left it cracked open. When she saw Bartley going toward the front door, she quickly turned about and slipped into the Major’s room.
It was very similar to the other bedrooms in the manor. It was, however, entirely colored in red, a deep scarlet red. Red walls, red draperies, red everything, right down to the slippers beside the bed.
Janie sank back against the closed door. “I hate red.”
She inhaled deeply then walked over to his chest of drawers. She opened the top drawer and was surprised to find it was empty. She opened each of the other drawers, only to find they too were empty.
“I don’t get it,” she murmured. “Why was he in here?”
She re-opened the top drawer and felt around its bare wooden surface. She found a button, a fixed button set in the side of the drawer. Curiosity driving her, she pressed it. One of the long scarlet drapes slid aside, exposing a portrait of Miriam Vanderholt that was at least ten feet tall. In front of the painting, a glass case held items displayed as if they were in a museum. A dozen red roses, now dry and withered, rested between a tuxedo and a meticulously folded cranberry gown. It looked to be the same dress that Miriam wore in the portrait before her. The black tuxedo had been folded with care. A white shirt and black bow tie lay neatly atop it. Eyes widening as she looked at the buttons on the shirt, Janie drew the cufflink from her pocket and held it close to the glass. The buttons were an exact match to the cufflink. The implications were horrifying. Whatever had happened in that cave all those years ago, Denys Vanderholt was involved in the mystery that had never been solved. And given the shrine-like setting, he was undoubtedly still haunted by it.
“My God, the man is possessed,” she breathed.
She suddenly heard the Major’s voice from just outside the door. He was shouting something over the railing to Bartley.
Janie quickly moved around the chest of drawers, pressed the button and closed the drawer, then ducked under the bed just as the doorknob was twisted. She held her breath.
She listened as the Major entered the room, breathing laboriously from climbing the stairs. Heard his footsteps as he limped over to his dresser. She risked peeking from her vantage point and watched as he took his hat from a peg and placed it on his head.
“Ah, now we’re ready for traveling.”
Anticipating his departure, Janie pulled back into her hiding place.
“What’s this?”
When Denys’s footsteps moved in her direction, Janie waited breathlessly to find out whether she had somehow given her presence away.
Janie heard the clicking of the drawer as he closed it firmly. There was a long moment of silence while the Major just stood there, then she heard his footsteps receding and the sound of the door closing. Finally able to relax, Janie dropped her forehead to the floor with a sigh of relief.
BASED ON THE persistence of her past life recollections, Janie decided another visit with Dr. Neale was in order. This time, she went alone. For the first half hour she described the flashes of déjà vu and wisps of visual memory that were occurring with greater frequency and becoming more vivid. Dr. Neale sat on the edge of her desk as was her habit, taking notes as Janie paced the floor like a caged tiger. After a while, Dr. Neale drew two chairs close together and gestured for Janie to sit. Dr. Neale sat opposite her and described the process of hypnosis and its use in effectively assisting clients with resolving their personal challenges.
“I believe we have a good start,” said the doctor. “Allow yourself to walk through any door. Be eager to see, hear, and touch anything. If there is a point where I feel you are becoming too emotionally traumatized, I will gently pull you out of it. At no time are you reliving anything, do you understand? You are merely reviewing it.”
Janie sighed deeply. “Okay. Ready when you are.”
Dr. Neale nodded at the couch. “Let’s get you comfortable on the couch, then.”
It took some time for Janie to relax, but, eventually she settled in and concentrated on Dr. Neal’s voice. Soon Janie was drifting in a deep current of darkness.
Dr. Neale spoke softly . “I want you to tell me the first feeling that comes to mind.”
“Joy.”
“Wonderful. Are you with anyone?”
“Yes.”
<
br /> “Are you male or female?”
“Female.”
“And the other person?”
“Female.”
“How old are you?”
“I just turned twenty-seven.”
Dr. Neale smiled. “Good for you. Are you married?”
“No. But she is.”
“The other woman with you?”
“Yes. She’s delightful. Met her at a banquet in London. Miriam. She wore her mother’s favorite necklace, a gold chain laced with exquisite diamonds.”
“You were fond of the diamonds.”
“I wanted to lift them from her.”
“You mean steal them?”
“Yes. But they looked so divine around her throat, I couldn’t. I was completely seduced by her. I fell in love with her straight away.”
“Tell me about the cranberry evening gown,” said Dr. Neale. “Have you ever seen it on anyone?”
A flash of light danced in Janie’s darkness, illuminating the scene that sprang to life in her mind’s eye. Miriam was laughing and spinning before her in joy, wearing the gown.
Janie smiled. “It was a gift I gave to Miriam.” Miriam twirled over to her and embraced her lovingly. “From Paris.”
Janie spun Miriam around and clasped a string of pearls around her neck.
“It was a birthday present.”
“Why the frown?” Dr. Neale prompted.
“I have an accent.”
“What kind of an accent?”
“British,” Janie replied dryly.
“Go on. Tell me the last time you saw Miriam wearing the gown.”
Janie’s mind supplied a scene. “We were in the living room. She and Denys had just argued about attending a party. She didn’t go. Denys was drunk off his feet. She decided to break the news to him.”
“What news?”
“That she was leaving him. She was leaving him and the children...for me.”
Dr. Neale’s eyebrow raised in inquiry. “You?”
“We had it all planned. I had a flat just outside London. She was coming with me the following day.”
“And how did Denys take this revelation?” When Janie cringed, Dr. Neale said, “What is it? What’s happening?”
“We’re somewhere else now. A gaslight nearby was shattered by a gunshot.”
“Who is shooting?”
Janie was distraught, her brow knit as her mind strained to see through the shadows. The only light came from the smoldering logs in the fireplace. She shook her head. “Without the lamp, I can’t see. Fortunately, it’s someone who’s a bad shot.”
“Talk to me. What’s going on now?”
“Miriam is begging someone to put the rifle down. She’s walking toward the door. Toward the person with the weapon.”
“Who? Who is it?”
Janie shook her head. “Can’t see.”
“And what are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
Janie broke into tears as she cried out, “He shot her!” She struggled with images of shadows and movement.
She saw herself crawl before Miriam’s still form and brushed aside wisps of hair, tears welling. The Major staggered from the darkness, wide eyed. He fell to his knees and laid the rifle aside, smoke still curling from its barrel.
Cupping Miriam’s face in his hands he wept. “What have you done? What have you done?” Tracing a hand down his wife’s waist, he winced at the gaping wound, which issued a bloody pool, her gown holed and stained. Hands shook to clenched fists. His eyes, iced with malice, met Janie’s before he clutched the rifle, stood and staggered. Janie caught her breath, terrified at his figure over her. The rifle loosely dropped to his side. “It must be finished,” he growled.
“I want you to take a deep breath,” Dr. Neale instructed. “I’m going to count backwards from five, and when I get to one, you will be here in the present time and place. You will feel rested, and you will remember everything. Do you understand?”
Tears running down her cheeks, Janie nodded.
She felt as though she had awakened from a bad dream, surprised and a bit embarrassed as she wiped the tears from her face. Dr. Neale was standing behind her desk, gazing out the window.
“Congratulations,” the doctor said finally. “You just solved a thirty-year-old mystery.”
Janie sat up. “What mystery?”
Dr. Neale turned about with a faint smile on her lips. “I did a little digging after your last visit, and came up with some old newspaper clippings that I think are pertinent.” She pushed the file across the desk to Janie.
Janie walked over to the desk. “How did you know that I would come back?”
“Oh, I knew you’d be back. You have too many questions that couldn’t otherwise be answered.”
“Questions that are still unanswered,” Janie countered. “You brought me out too soon. There was more to it, I know.”
“I brought you out when I did because of the overwhelming experience you had just gone through. You were witness to Major Denys Vanderholt murdering his wife, for Christ’s sake!”
“He wasn’t done.”
“Precisely,” Dr. Neale said gravely. “You have to trust me, Carolyn. Clients who harbor tragic past life trauma must work through them slowly in this life. To retrace everything in its entirety could be devastating to your mental stability. I’ve had many such cases. And yours, with the recollections being as vivid and detailed as they are, would present such a danger.”
Janie opened the file. The newspaper headline read: “One Dead, One Missing at Aria Manor.”
“‘Mrs. Miriam Vanderholt was found dead in her home late Friday night. Reports from manor staff say all had been dismissed for the evening. Chief Inspector Fricky declined to comment on possible suspects in the shooting, but says Major Denys Vanderholt is not among the list of suspects.’
“Did you read this? It says Denys was at the hospital,” Janie stormed. “This is a bunch of crap.”
“You’re the only one who knows the truth, Carolyn. You...and Denys Vanderholt.”
Janie sighed as she plopped down in the closest chair. “So, what do we do? Who do we contact?”
“This would be a very difficult case to prove, and that pales in comparison to the difficulty of finding someone with any interest in reopening it.”
“He has a freakin’ altar to the murder in his bedroom.”
“Say again?”
“A drape opens at the push of a button to this little shrine thingy that has his tux and her folded gown in a glass case. And on the wall above it is this massive portrait of Miriam in the same dress. It’s damn creepy.”
“Fascinating.”
“Fascinating? He’s nuts.” Janie began to pace. “Why would I decide to reincarnate just to relive the whole damn thing again? If it’s for the sole purpose of seeing who can be driven mad first, he hasn’t got me beat by much! My God, half of me wishes Oliver hadn’t stepped in the way of that bullet. Then Denys and I would both be out of our misery about this affair.”
“Are you being facetious?”
Janie replied with a frown.
Dr. Neale leaned on the edge of her desk and folded her arms. “Think about the events of this life for just a moment. Think of everything that has happened to people around you.”
“A lot of death.”
“And what has been your involvement, your feelings about these deaths?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Didn’t you tell me you felt remorse for not being there for your father? You felt guilty the real Carolyn took the bullets that were meant for you? You tried, but couldn’t save Teddy from the tides. You couldn’t save the old man from a bullet and his daughter from a mob.” After a moment, she added, “Don’t you see a pattern here?”
Janie lifted her eyes to Dr. Neale’s.
“Based on the description of the event that you saw today, you never thought to save Miriam, did you?”
Janie rested her h
ead in her hands and rubbed her aching temples. “I don’t know.”
“Sure you do. You said she walked toward the gunman in the shadows. Where were you? What were you doing?”
Janie shook her head slowly, straining to capture the fleeting images. “I was...just standing there. I guess I wasn’t doing anything. I froze.”
“Don’t you see? You’re creating events in this lifetime that are similar to those of the previous life because you’ve carried over feelings of guilt for not reacting when you felt you should have.”
“Events I’m creating? How the hell do you figure that?”
“You didn’t have to get involved.” Dr. Neale shrugged. “You chose to involve yourself. Why didn’t you simply walk away?”
“I didn’t choose for my father to be murdered.”
“What you chose was to obey his wishes and leave the house. If you had stayed, you would have been among the dead. You chose to step into a particular taxicab that just happened to have another woman in it. You could have continued running down the street or even found another cab. You chose to involve yourself in Teddy’s distress, a man determined to die with or without your intervention.”
“And I suppose you’re going to tell me I could have chosen not to address the issues that arose in Vienna?”
“What do you think?” The doctor rustled through some papers. “You’re blaming yourself for situations over which you had no control. In doing so, you’ve forgotten the twist in all of this. You’ve been so absorbed in your burdens of loss, you’ve forgotten the lives you did save. Somewhere in Europe, there’s a child living a new life with a loving family because of your desire to save a life.”
Janie leaned back and stared blankly, considering the complexities of the concept. “Well, if that isn’t a revelation.” After a moment, she added, “That still doesn’t solve the present problem of what’s to be done with this new knowledge about Denys and Miriam’s murder, does it?”
“Scotland Yard would only laugh at us,” Dr. Neale said matter-of-factly.
