by A. L. Duncan
“I don’t understand why some things stick in someone’s mind and others fade from memory, but I do understand there are fine threads that can cause a person to relive events from their past. It must have been horrible for Father to have lived all this time either knowing about the murder or...” She shook her head. “I dare not finish the thought. Oh, all of this is so unnerving!”
Checking the time on the mantle clock, Janie’s eyes glanced to the portrait of Miriam above it. For the first time, she noticed the background behind the figure.
Ilene looked at Janie with curiosity. “Are you having another one of your visions?”
“I’m not sure,” Janie murmured. She crept closer to the painting of the east garden and eyed the arbor. A flash of knowledge startled her. Someone had dug a very deep hole and was placing a square box within it. As quickly as it had come, the vision left with the subtle chiming of the clock. It was 11:30 p.m.
“We should be getting downstairs now, shouldn’t we?” asked Ilene.
Janie shook off the vision. “Yeah.” Placing a hand in the small of Ilene’s back, she gestured for the door. “After you, Mrs. Vanderholt.”
Standing beside Ilene near the fireplace in the living room, Janie searched the flames with a heavy heart. Janie was convinced the mantle clock had deliberately slowed its movements down to add to her anxiety. Tick...tick...tick. After each lengthy minute, the clock finally struck midnight.
“It could be awhile,” said Ilene. “We best entertain ourselves.”
Ilene went over to the Victrola and soon music of Debussy’s Prélude A L’Apres-Midi D’un Faune began to play quietly. Janie’s mind was filled with a kaleidoscope of images. The room changed with such a subtle lack of clarity, she wasn’t sure which images were past and which were present. All her reality now was skewed.
From somewhere in the house, a door slammed, startling the two of them.
The Major’s holler echoed desperately down the hall. “Miriam…”
Then silence. Deadly silence.
Ilene had lifted the record needle.
Janie helped her replace it. “Keep it going. It’ll be alright.”
She pulled her close to her. There they stood before the fireplace. Janie had to remember to breathe.
Heavy footfalls, uneven and with a cane echoed down the hall.
Ilene embraced Janie. Janie wasn’t sure if she was seeing Ilene or Miriam.
Ilene whispered, “Do you suppose we’re safe?”
Her mind riddled with confusion, Janie held her at arm’s length. “I think we should get you out of here.”
Janie turned around as the sound of a gun shocked the air. She felt the burn of a bullet as it grazed her arm. She twisted painfully, hearing the round shatter a mirror.
Staggering about, Janie glared into the shadows of the doorway.
Ilene gasped as she recognized the silhouette. She stepped in front of Janie. “Please, put it down. You don’t need to...”
It was all slow motion for Janie. Just as another shot rang out, she shoved Ilene. Ilene fell back against the mantel and dropped to the floor. Tears flowing, Janie sank to her knees beside the still form of her beloved Ilene. Images flashed before her.
She squinted into the darkness that cloaked the shooter. Two figures stood there, not one. One of the figures stepped into the light, holding a rifle with the barrel still smoking.
“Oliver!” Janie gasped.
Oliver, a child of eight, stood before Janie. His eyes were cold and distant. It was clear he had meant to shoot her but had mistakenly shot his mother. Slowly, Oliver’s small figure melted into the present. Now, a full-grown man stood before Janie. The eyes of a troubled child still held their disturbing distance.
The Major pushed his way between Oliver and Janie. He reached out and slid a hand over top of his son’s. Gripping the stock, the Major stepped forward until he stood over the fallen body. He wept as he sank to his knees. His aged blue eyes gazed upon the soft features and his hand shook nervously as it touched the torn fabric of the cranberry gown.
“What have you done?” the Major murmured. “What have you done?”
After a moment, he lifted resigned eyes to meet Janie’s before turning away. Collecting himself, he coolly said, “It must be finished.” The Major labored to stand near his son, who was staggering drunk. The Major laid a comforting hand on Oliver’s shoulder.
Again, Janie’s mind flashed between past and present, recalling the past-life scene as little Oliver was turned about and scooted out of the room.
“Go to your room,” the Major said. “We’ll talk later.”
In the next moment, the Major loomed above Janie. “Get up,” he ordered.
Pulling herself up, Janie breathed in a deep lungful of air. She knew what was to come next. She remembered that, too.
THE WAVES SLAPPED the steep shoreline as they walked along the cliff. Her wound stung bitterly and the blood streaked down her arm despite her fingers being pressed tightly around it. She paid the injury no heed. She was numb. For over thirty years, the Major had lived with a lamentable secret in an attempt to save his son from the guilt of murder. This battle-hardened hero had denied his wife justice, all for the sake of his posterity. And it looked likely he would murder again to keep the past buried.
The Major pushed Janie into the cave and shoved a lantern at her. “Light it,” he ordered, panting. Before Janie could touch match to wick, a ghostly figure appeared in the cavern in front of them. The eerie, pale features belonged to Miriam’s ghost.
“Miriam?” gasped the Major.
“Is it not enough, Denys?” the ghost asked softly. “When will it be enough?”
Gravel and shells crunched behind them, and the Major twisted about. Another figure appeared, illuminated by a light from the mouth of the cave. It was Ilene. Slowly, she approached her father tearfully.
The Major dropped his rifle. His trembling legs no longer able to hold him up, he sank into a pitiable heap. “Enough!” he wailed. “Please...leave me alone.”
From behind Ilene, the glow of light brightened. It came from a lantern held by Old Fricky. Bobbies and Chief Inspector Higgins scrambled around them as Janie’s eyes met Ilene’s. Janie twisted and peered over her shoulder. Miriam’s figure was still present. A gentle nod was all the specter expressed, however, before disappearing.
Higgins gestured to the whimpering Major. “Arrest this man.”
Ilene dashed around the officers and clung to Janie, tears in her eyes.
Janie knew she wasn’t imagining the feel of Ilene’s hair and skin. Even with her eyes closed, she would have known this moment was real. Janie pulled Ilene against her as she eyed the fresh sanguine stain on the gown.
“I thought you were—”
“We made certain all the rifles in the manor were loaded with blanks,” Fricky interjected.
“Funny.” Janie grimaced and gestured with her injured arm. “This doesn’t feel like a blank.”
Fricky cleared his throat and threw an eye at one of the bobbies. “Well, apparently, one of our boys forgot to check the chamber.”
Ilene cupped Janie’s face and gazed into her eyes. Janie’s smile and nod reassured Ilene that it was all over and they were going to be okay.
“That was some acting.” Janie nodded at Ilene in appreciation.
“Please.” Ilene coughed. “When I fell back against the mantle, I hit my head. When I came to, the Chief Inspector was standing over me with smelling salts.” She pulled away from Janie slightly and removed a tiny bag of red liquid. “Theatrics. Courtesy of Old Fricky.”
As all departed the cave, Janie caught a somber glance from Chief Inspector Higgins and turned to Ilene. She gestured back up the hill. “Ilene, why don’t you go on ahead. I’ll be right there,” Janie said tenderly. “Anna is up there. I’m sure she’s made us some tea.”
Ilene departed, escorted by a bobby. Janie exhaled and started to follow as Fricky halted her in his excitement.
Janie was stunned. “Blackmail?”
“Possibly an eyewitness to the murder of Mrs. Vanderholt,” interjected Higgins. “One thousand pound payments each month is quite a hefty sum to pay for labor these days.”
“I’ll just bet that gardener didn’t fall on his shears after having a heart attack, as the story goes,” Fricky added.
“So, what’s going to happen to Denys and Oliver?”
Fricky shrugged as they started up the steep incline. “As to Oliver, we’ll book him on charges for his assault on you and his sister. Says he doesn’t remember a thing about the night of the murder all those years ago, except his father sending him to his room. I’ve a feeling there is more to his story. Such eyes speak volumes of repressed hauntings. Given the state the Major’s in right now, it won’t be hard to get a confession out of him for his involvement in the demise of your past personage and the old head gardener.”
Higgins sighed as he stepped onto the grassy verge in front of the manor. “Well, it’s all over now. Won’t be having any more trouble here. We couldn’t have cracked this case without you, my dear, whatever profession, past or present.”
The evening’s sea breeze cooled her face, but her heart was not as light as the Chief Inspector’s. “All I wanted was a nice, quiet stay in the country,” Janie mused.
“It’s overrated,” Fricky said. “Here. Wait.” He halted her and tied a handkerchief around her arm. “There. You’ll need to see to that later.”
Janie nodded and turned back to Higgins, his grin meeting her as she came upon him. “I understand you are aware of my former profession, Chief Inspector. I’d appreciate it if you could keep that information under your hat.”
“Of course,” Higgins replied. As Janie crested the top, Higgins reached out to assist her. “I say. Speaking of which, I understand you may have some knowledge of the whereabouts of the missing Black Prince’s Ruby.”
Janie’s mind began to reel. Apparently that was Carolyn’s true reason for making arrangements to come to Aria Manor. She sighed. “What’s the big deal about this ruby, anyway?”
“One of the oldest of the Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom, dating back to the twelfth century, when Henry V wore it into battle at Agincourt. It’s been in the possession of the British Kings and Queens ever since,” Fricky supplied.
“Until its theft in January 1903,” Higgins added. “A hush-hush issue of which the commoners have no knowledge.”
“Seems your past life personage was our jewel thief. Given the remarkable insight you have had into other things that happened at Aria Manor so long ago, we are hopeful about finding the ruby, as well.”
Janie’s mind flashed back to Miriam’s portrait. “I believe I might have an idea.”
RAIN DRIZZLED DOWN on the policemen digging an enormous hole where the arbor had been. Anna brought out a tray of tea but was stopped by Fricky and Higgins. They did not want anything to distract the officers from finding the treasure. The two, however, were delighted to accept the tea for them. Fricky tipped his hat to Anna. Janie grinned watching the two exchange smiles before Anna turned and giggled at his continued ogling.
Finally a muddy officer shouted from within the hole, “Chief Inspector!”
Janie’s heart leapt. It was a moment she had been hoping to witness. As grimy hands lifted up a bundle wrapped in red cloth, Higgins gestured his approval that Janie should step forward to retrieve it. Nervously, she accepted the duty. The box inside the wrapping was ordinary and square, just as she had seen in the vision.
Ignoring the muck of the squishy ground, she knelt down and rested the box on a thigh. Slowly she untied the knot and felt a strange sensation ebb over her. It was as if she was uncovering something fragile and sacred from a king’s tomb, as if both lifetimes had led up to this one moment in time.
Well aware that all eyes were on her and the walnut box, Janie slid a hand along either side of the dark panels, absorbing the feel of the smooth grain before opening the lid. The drip, drip patter of the rain plunked above her from gathered umbrellas, matching her anxious pulse. Lifting the lid, it was as if a swarm of past and present all merged together, her lives flashing before her and scattering just as quickly with the flashing pop of a photographer’s bulb. All eyes were fixed on the exquisite beauty of the Black Prince’s Ruby.
A few days later, the Ruby made its appearance snuggly in the Crown worn by the king in a publicity shot for the local paper. Janie peered at the article and another photo with wonder that no commoner ever knew the real ruby had been missing to begin with. It was a triumph for Higgins, she supposed, getting a personal heartwarming photo with the king. “The King and Yard,” read the article title, “Service and country.” With any luck, the Ruby’s adventure would continue to remain a secret left only to fireside tales.
Chapter Ffiteen
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THE FADING OF summer came with several resolutions. The trumpet vines had ended their orange-tinted blooms. The blue hydrangea had lost its color and the cool rains brought thoughts of fall as yellow marigolds and russet mums settled into their full blown glories. Gil, Michael, and Peanut kept busy mulching, transplanting, and pruning while Ilene helped fit Liz for a baby pouch she had sewn for her, to keep one little one on her back and Michael to wear the other. Liz was perfectly content to continue her chores with little Evie, as she called her, picking herbs and vegetables or even stooping among the roses. Little Elsa was quickly becoming a daddy’s girl being swept up and paraded about like a fancy addition to his gardening tools.
The Major was spending his last days in hospital in very caring hands. Since Oliver admitted to his crimes and was summarily sent to prison, Angela was left to her own interests, those being the local vicar. It seemed small town life appealed to her after all despite her prospects elsewhere. Aria Manor was now under Ilene’s sole management, as were all of the holdings of the estate. Proper servant cottages were being built on the property and wages were raised.
The happenings at Aria Manor ceased to be the primary topic at Lady Crutchfield’s parties, engendering only an occasional comment or two of sincere concern for Ilene’s happiness.
For Janie, it was a day to dawdle through the gardens, past the mums and spice-scented marigolds, toward the estate’s great pine with purpose. She stood on the edge of the cliff and overlooked the vast sea while she mused over memories, looking back not only on the months at Aria Manor, but also on what she had left behind in New York, and what she’d brought with her.
It was a fine morning. The air was as crisp as her recollections were vivid. Janie pulled Carolyn’s Star of David from her pocket and rubbed it between her fingers, just as she had every day it had been in her possession. Janie did not believe in the ancient ritual of summoning anything by such a practice. It was more the idea of keeping past and present separated. Since the night of the reenactment, she hadn’t seen Carolyn’s ghost, or any other spirit, for that matter. Still, for Janie the pendant held a symbolic presence of all that Carolyn Vaughn had been raised with, all Teddy had fought for, and all Sam Tisdale and others like him had died for. For the first time, Janie finally felt at peace about how her life had been so enriched by a journey she would have otherwise never taken.
She was about to toss the pendant into the water when Ilene called to her from behind.
“I saw you from the terrace. Is everything all right?”
Janie smiled at the sight of Ilene hurrying along the cliff, pressing her h
at against her head while the wind whipped the wide brim about.
“I was just taking a stroll.”
Ilene glanced down at Janie’s Star of David. “I’ve intruded, haven’t I, darling?”
“No, no.”
“I’m terribly sorry. Perhaps I should run along and leave you to your thoughts.”
“I don’t mind the company.”
Janie held out her hand and offered Ilene a seat on the soft green berm. Ilene removed her hat and sat down, now and again turning an eye to Janie’s pensive features.
“I can tell when something is bothering you,” Ilene observed. “You always rub your Star of David, as if it is a talisman.”
“Do I?”
“That pendant has been making an appearance quite a lot lately.”
Janie rolled the pendant between her fingers. “I suppose there’s been a lot to think about.”
Ilene looked at Janie warily. “Is it bad news?”
“What?”
“So much has happened. I wouldn’t blame you at all for wanting to get as far away from Aria Manor as possible. If that’s what you wish.”
Janie’s scowled with sudden understanding. “No. God, no. It’s nothing like that.” Janie laid the pendant on the ground and turned to Ilene. She cupped Ilene’s face. “Listen to me. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me?” To reinforce her words, she kissed Ilene gently.
Ilene pulled Janie’s hands into her lap. “So, why all the deep thoughts?”
Janie’s eyes drifted to the sea. “I guess I’ve been a little homesick.”
“Miss your mum?”
Janie smiled at the thought of her mother’s cooking, the way her dark brown hair would curl just so over her collar, and her laughter. How she missed her mother’s laugh. “Yeah. I do. She has the cleanest hands of any woman I’ve ever known. They actually shine.”
