The Haunted Island (A Lin Coffin Mystery Book 9)

by J A Whiting

  “That is possible.” Sharon nodded. “It must have happened with some frequency. Because of the smallpox panic, anyone with symptoms would be sent to quarantine. Of course, the best form of quarantine would be to house people in individual rooms so they didn’t contract the smallpox virus from anyone else who was in quarantine for observation. Even though the hospital was expanded, the space was limited so people had to share rooms.”

  Viv groaned at the thought of being sent to the island with only a cold or a minor flu and ending up catching smallpox while in observation. “That’s awful.”

  Sharon agreed, “It is awful, but they did the best they could at the time to keep the disease from spreading through towns and cities. The loss of life could have been much, much worse without the quarantine requirements.”

  “What is the timeline for smallpox,” Lin asked. “How soon after being exposed to the virus do symptoms begin to show?”

  “It can take from seven to seventeen days for the symptoms to appear,” Sharon said. “A few days after the symptoms develop, a rash forms on the face, hands, and arms, and later on the trunk of the body. The rash turns to lesions, then blisters, and then to scabs. When the scabs fall off, they leave behind deep, pitted scars. About thirty percent of people die from smallpox.”

  Lin and Viv sat quietly in their chairs.

  “May I show you the letters? Would you like to see them?” Sharon asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Lin sat straighter in anticipation.

  Sharon disappeared into the house and returned with a small, white box. She set the box on the table and removed a stack of letters in old envelopes and wrapped with a dark blue ribbon. “I have the letters arranged in chronological order.” Gesturing to the stack, she said, “Please help yourself. Read any and all of them. Whatever you like.”

  Lin and Viv each took a letter and began to read, and when they finished, they exchanged with one another.

  “This is interesting.” Lin looked up from the fifth letter she’d been reading.

  Sharon and Viv turned their eyes to the young woman.

  “Patrick writes about the doctors. He seems to like the one named Milton Fair and he makes nice comments about the man being such a help to him.”

  “Yes, I remember that,” Sharon said. “There was a doctor he didn’t care for though.”

  Lin summarized the next part of the letter. “Patrick writes that another doctor doesn’t seem to care about any of the patients. He seems resentful if any of them make a request of this doctor or if they ask him a question. Patrick uses the words rough and unkind.”

  Viv scowled. “Why would this doctor work at Canter if he can’t behave with compassion or kindness?”

  Lin took the next letter from the stack and read for a few minutes and then her brows knitted together. “Patrick complains again about the unkind doctor, but this time he wonders what the man is up to. He says the doctor recruited one of the immigrants from the observation section to do some work for him. He doesn’t say what the work was.”

  “Well, that’s strange, isn’t it?” Viv asked. “What would he want done? There were maintenance people at Canter, along with doctors, nurses, landscapers, and other staff. What might the doctor want someone to do … someone who is at the hospital for observation?”

  “I never really paid much attention to those parts of the letters,” Sharon said. “But now that you bring it up, it does seem odd of the doctor to ask a patient to do work for him.”

  “Do any of the letters mention more about it?” Viv asked.

  Lin shuffled through some of them. “Here. Look at this one. Patrick brings up the doctor and the man who worked for him. Patrick saw the man in the hall one afternoon and asked him how he was doing. The man told him he was tired, but his observation period was up and he was leaving Canter later that day. When Patrick asked the man what work he’d done for the doctor, the man snorted and said he’d walked the island trails with the doctor and did some digging here and there. The man called the doctor crazy, but he got paid and was happy to have made a bit of money. Patrick writes that the man stayed on the island two weeks longer than the normal observation period. He writes in the letter to his family that he wonders why the doctor had the man digging around.”

  “Maybe that doctor wanted a new house built for himself,” Sharon guessed. “Maybe he wanted to test the soil to see how it would hold a foundation.”

  “Why not ask a maintenance person those questions?” Viv asked. “Could that doctor have been studying the plants in the area? Could he have been an herbalist looking for something that might help the smallpox victims and needed someone to do the heavy work?”

  “It was probably idle chatter,” Sharon said. “Patrick was stuck on an island with a hospital full of sick people. He must have been going stir crazy with nothing to do so he made more of the doctor’s unorthodox behavior than he would have if he himself had been busy at something.”

  “Did Patrick mention the doctor’s name?” Viv asked.

  Lin looked through a few more letters. “Yes, here it is. Dr. Benjamin Mitchell.”

  “Mitchell?” Viv face took on an expression of surprise. “As in Dr. Samuel Mitchell? Is Samuel related to that doctor or is it just coincidence?”

  Lin didn’t say anything, but she knew what her landscaping partner would say about that. Leonard would ask her, “Is there really such a thing as coincidence?”

  12

  Lin and Viv rode their bikes along the bicycle path past the red and white Sankaty lighthouse, the green fields, marshes, and ponds until they reached the outskirts of Nantucket town where they followed Tangerine Street all the way back to Main. After the cousins parked their bikes outside of Viv’s bookstore-café, they went inside so Viv could check on everything, and seeing all was well, the two returned to the bikes and headed to Lin’s house for dinner.

  Nicky and Queenie heard the click-clack of the bike chains and were waiting on the back deck when Lin and Viv came around the corner of the house.

  The dog let out a happy bark and darted down the two steps to the patio to do a happy dance around the women. Queenie sat regally in one of the deck chairs, content to allow the dog to be the exuberant one.

  Inside the cottage, Lin worked on a spinach quiche while Viv made a salad and some rice pilaf, and when the quiche was in the oven, they had glasses of iced tea and sat at the kitchen island with Lin’s laptop.

  “I’ve been dying to look up Samuel Mitchell.” Viv tapped at the keyboard. A power outage the previous night had knocked out internet service which postponed Viv’s online sleuthing.

  “Dr. Mitchell wasn’t at the house today when Leonard and I were working on his gardens,” Lin reported. “I was glad he wasn’t around. I didn’t feel like talking to him about our visit to Canter last week. His questioning felt intrusive.”

  “Intrusive? It felt just plain weird,” Viv said as she stared at the screen. “Here’s some information on him.” Viv read aloud some of the most interesting facts. “Samuel Mitchell grew up in Connecticut, received a bachelor’s degree from Yale University, went on for a master’s degree at the same university, and graduated from Harvard Medical School. He spent the majority of his career researching infectious diseases. He has written many books and academic articles. Mitchell sat on the boards of several non-profits and some charitable organizations. He served on the president’s council on health and wellness.”

  “He doesn’t sound like a weirdo,” Lin said. “He sounds intelligent and accomplished.”

  Viv ignored the comments. “Mitchell never married, he had no siblings. His mother was a surgeon and his father was a doctor who specialized in researching blood cancers.”

  Lin’s eyes went wide. “Yikes. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, did it? What about Benjamin Mitchell? Is he Samuel’s relative?”

  Viv squinted at the words on the screen. “Well, well, yes he is. Benjamin was Samuel’s grandfather.”

  “Can you look up Benjami
n?” Lin asked. “Can you find any information about him?”

  Viv flipped through some articles. “Here we go. Benjamin was born in 1850. He received his medical degree from Yale. He was a general practitioner. He married later in life and had one son, Francis, who was born in 1906. Francis is Samuel’s father.” Viv kept reading. “Huh. People described Benjamin as a genius, but also as an eccentric. It seems the man held some strange views on conspiracy theories. He studied and taught in Europe and returned to the States around the time of the smallpox epidemics. He accepted a position at Canter Island. He had a home on Nantucket and a townhome in New York City.”

  “Hold on,” Lin said as she went to check the quiche and then returned to her stool at the island. “Okay, go on.”

  “Benjamin was an investor in many businesses, he bought up land and houses and held them until he could sell them for maximum profit. Some of the businesses he invested in were described as unusual.”

  “What does that mean? Does the article say anymore?” Lin asked.

  “Not really. It just says unusual inventions.”

  “It sounds like he made a good deal of money,” Lin said. “That could explain Samuel’s financial standing. His grandfather made a bundle and grew his wealth. The parents inherited the money, made plenty of their own, and must have invested well. Samuel has no siblings so everything went to him. He must have invested well also. Money makes money.”

  Viv raised her head and made eye contact with her cousin. “All that money? Seems impossible.”

  “For us, it seems impossible,” Lin said. “But not for people who already have a lot. Think about growth over those many decades.”

  “I guess.” Viv still wasn’t convinced. “These articles make Benjamin seem like a kook.”

  “A very intelligent kook,” Lin chuckled.

  “Why would Benjamin accept a position at Canter? Wouldn’t you be afraid you’d come down with smallpox?” Viv asked.

  “He probably stayed in his office most of the time and made the nurses do all the dirty work.”

  “And he probably collected a big fat check for sitting on his butt.” Viv shook her head. “Patrick Brown’s letters make Benjamin seem like he didn’t care at all for the patients suffering from that awful disease.”

  “Maybe Benjamin had terrible social skills,” Lin offered. “Maybe he had an abrupt manner that made him seem unkind.”

  “Not the kind of doctor you want around when you’re battling an illness that might very well kill you.” Viv pushed her light brown hair behind her ear.

  “He was probably good at medicine, but had a terrible bedside manner,” Lin said.

  “If I was in the throes of that illness, I’d want someone kind and who was good at medicine. If I might not have long to live, I’d want someone who treated me gently and respectfully.”

  The oven timer went off and the cousins sat down to eat.

  “How’s John been acting?” Lin asked as she cut the quiche into wedges. “Is he back to normal?”

  “Mostly,” Viv served the salad. “But sometimes, he seems like he’s hiding something from me.”

  “He’s probably just overworked and distracted.”

  A cloud came over Viv’s face. “Have you seen the ghost lately?”

  “No.” Lin sighed. “The last time was on Canter when we were in the cemetery.”

  Viv said, “We’re finding out a lot of information about smallpox and how it was handled, we’ve learned a bunch about Canter Island, and we know that the doctor you’re doing landscaping for is related to a doctor who worked on Canter. But we haven’t learned a thing about this ghost.”

  “Except that he wants us to find the truth and he wants to go home,” Lin said.

  “And we don’t know where that is either.” Viv scooped more rice onto her plate. “We’re not batting a thousand here.”

  “No one can do that. No one is perfect. We’re trying.”

  “That ghost needs to help out more if he wants you to figure this out,” Viv said to her cousin.

  Nicky let out a woof from his spot on the living room sofa and it made Viv smile. “Someone agrees with me.”

  “He’s a smart dog.” Lin pushed her food around on her plate. “And you’re right. If we don’t find more information, then we aren’t going to be able to help this ghost.”

  “Tell him to show up and give you some clues or you’re going to quit.” Viv bit her lip and looked anxiously over her shoulders. “Maybe I shouldn’t speak so forcefully.”

  “How are you feeling about what happened to you on Canter?”

  “I’ve decided it was nothing,” Viv said. “I don’t have any skills. It was heat lightning or a solar flare. I’ve never felt anything before. I’m thirty-years-old. I’m not suddenly going to sprout some new ability.”

  Lin didn’t agree with Viv’s statements, but she thought it best to go along with her. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Clearing the dinner plates, Lin brought out some ice cream, toppings, and whipped cream to make their own sundaes. “I was thinking we should visit the historical museum library again and ask Felix if he can find the old letters from Nantucket residents who corresponded with friends and family on Canter. Joyce Parker said the letters are in the archives.”

  “Good idea.” Viv put a dollop of cream on top of her sundae. “What about talking to Anton again. Has he returned from the conference he went to on the mainland?”

  “He’ll be back the day after tomorrow. I’ll ask him to meet with us when he gets home. We can share what we’ve learned about Canter with him and maybe he can point us in a direction we haven’t thought of yet.” Lin spooned some ice cream into her mouth. “I’ll talk to Leonard about everything, too. He often has some good suggestions about what to research next.”

  “Well, he ought to be good at such things since he lives with a ghost,” Viv smiled.

  Leonard’s wife Marguerite had died in a car accident several years ago, and ever since, she’s appeared to him almost every day in the Cape Cod style house they once shared together.

  “I know we’ve talked about this before, but why do you think Marguerite doesn’t cross over?” Lin asked.

  Viv breathed in a long breath. “It was a sudden accident that killed her. Isn’t sudden death a reason some spirits don’t cross?”

  “That’s what Libby told me.” Lin rested her chin in her hand. “Maybe she would miss Leonard too much if she left him.”

  “And I know I’ve said this before,” Viv told her cousin, “but is it good for Leonard if Marguerite doesn’t cross? He can’t converse with her, he can’t hold her. If she crossed, maybe he would find someone he could share this life with and Marguerite wouldn’t be caught in a kind of limbo. Have you ever brought this up with him?”

  “No. I don’t think he’d be open to discussing it. Talking about it would make Leonard think he was being unloving to his wife.”

  “Maybe you could help Marguerite cross over,” Viv said softly.

  Lin’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t know how I would.”

  “You might be able to figure out what’s keeping her here,” Viv suggested. “It might be a blessing to both of them if you could help her.”

  Lin swallowed hard. She couldn’t imagine broaching the subject with Leonard. Letting out a long sigh, she told Viv, “One ghost at a time.”

  13

  Dressed as stylishly as usual, Felix, the historical museum librarian, approached the glossy wooden table with a folder. “Honestly, there are things in the archives that no one even knows about. We need help categorizing and entering the items into a database. I’m glad the researcher told you these letters were available.”

  Felix set the folder on the table and removed the documents. “They’re in chronological order of date sent. There are twenty letters in total, all sent between citizens of Nantucket and patients or detainees on Canter Island during the years 1889 and 1894.”

  Lin looked eagerly at the envelopes and
thanked the librarian for finding them.

  “Let me know when you’re finished and I’ll collect them from you.” With a nod, the man left them to their work, and Lin and Viv each took up a letter to read.

  “Reading these letters is like going back in time.” Viv looked up from the piece of correspondence in her hand.

  “It sure is.” Lin finished the one she’d been reading, folded it back as it was, and placed it gently into the envelope. “It’s interesting to read about the writer’s daily activities and concerns. The people writing to a family member or friend tried to keep up the person’s spirits by supplying some normalcy writing about their days and adding some news about their neighbors.”

  “Oh gosh,” Viv put a hand to her forehead. “This letter is from a patient on Canter writing to his wife. He’s describing his symptoms and how terrible he feels and prays that he will be one of the lucky ones who will survive the disease.”

  “I’m reading a similar one.” Lin’s expression looked sad as she set it aside and picked up the next one. After a few moments, she said, “Listen to this one.”

  My Dearest M,

  I have been trying to keep occupied as I pass another day under observation. I don’t feel any worse than when I was on the ship, which makes me hopeful that my illness is only a minor bother or maybe lingering sea sickness and not something with serious implications. There is a doctor here who has asked me if I would care to do some light work tasks for him. He will pay me for my labor. He has not yet explained what the work will entail, but I would be happy to be of service … the first reason being to bring a little money home when they release me, and second, to do some useful work in place of sitting in the room or in the garden with nothing to do.

  I will write again tomorrow.

  My love to you,

  William

  Viv’s eyes held a serious expression. “A doctor asked this William person to do some labor for him? This is the second man we’ve heard of who did some work for the doctor. The person who wants to hire William must be Dr. Benjamin Mitchell.”