The Haunted Island (A Lin Coffin Mystery Book 9)

by J A Whiting

  “He seems like a fuss-budget,” Viv said. “Tell me more about what Dr. Mitchell said.”

  Lin revealed that the grandfather, Dr. Benjamin Mitchell, retired from medicine at the age of fifty to focus on his business interests, and committed suicide when he was sixty-four.”

  “What?” Viv’s eyes bugged.

  “The man had the reputation of being sullen, unloving, hard-driving, and anxious. He’d been divorced by his wife. His son was only eight-years-old at the time.”

  “Gosh. I guess money can’t buy happiness, can it?” Viv asked.

  “Dr. Mitchell told me his grandfather talked about pirate’s treasure having been buried on Canter,” Lin said.

  “You’re kidding me.” Viv’s mouth dropped open. “Is that why our ghost tossed a gold doubloon onto Anton’s deck?”

  “Mitchell said it was only a fairytale,” Lin said, “and he didn’t believe any of it”

  “Oh, really? Is that why he’s often visiting Canter?” Viv asked with a huff. “That makes perfect sense. Mitchell takes his boat there and searches for the treasure his grandfather claims is buried on the island. Of course, he’d say it was a fairytale. That way no one else goes to Canter looking for the loot.”

  “If he does believe there’s treasure on Canter and he spends time looking for it,” Lin began, “why would he tell me about it?”

  Viv didn’t say anything. She couldn’t think of a reason to tell someone about the supposed treasure. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense to tell anyone about it.”

  “Could he be going there for another reason?” Lin questioned.

  “Like what?”

  “Could he be looking for something else?”

  Viv shook her head, confused.

  “We talked a few days ago about what Dr. Benjamin Mitchell might have been up to and why he hired the detainees to do some work for him. Anton came up with several criminal activities the doctor may have been involved in, money laundering, smuggling, to name a couple.”

  Viv leveled her eyes at Lin. “The doctor might have left something behind on Canter? Something related to his criminal dealings? Something valuable, perhaps?”

  “Perhaps.” Lin nodded, and then with a pointed expression, said, “Oh, I forgot to mention that Samuel Mitchell told me again this morning that he hasn’t been on Canter for years.”

  “Right,” Viv said with a disbelieving tone. “Mitchell hasn’t been on Canter even though the charter boat guy said he’s seen the man’s cruiser there … and Mitchell doesn’t believe in legends or fairytales either.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Viv said, “But maybe Samuel believes in left-behind illegal profits that his grandfather might have buried on Canter when he was supposed to be caring for smallpox patients.”

  “And maybe that’s why he hired those quarantined men to do so much digging,” Lin suggested, “to hide illegal items and to bury some of his profits.”

  “I just don’t trust Samuel,” Viv said. “Don’t believe anything he says.”

  Lin thought that was probably good advice.

  21

  Sitting around Anton’s kitchen table with a fire in the fireplace and the cat and dog sitting in a big, comfortable chair watching out the window into the dark night, Lin and Viv waited as Anton pulled up an email on his laptop.

  “William Iron’s official cause of death was due to accidental head injury,” the historian said. “Not smallpox. So,” he made eye contact with the cousins, “no one tried to cover up the fact that Irons died from an injury.”

  “There aren’t any notes about how Irons sustained the injury?” Viv asked. “What was he doing when it happened?”

  “Not on the death certificate,” Anton said.

  “Does it mention anything about what kind of a wound it was?” Lin asked. “Blunt force trauma? Was it from a fall? A gunshot wound?”

  “No,” Anton shook his head. “But at least we know there was no effort to lie about the man’s death. The officials on Canter didn’t claim he died of smallpox which we know wasn’t the cause of death since when you saw the ghost not long ago, his head wound was evident. It was clear he was indicating to you what had happened to him.”

  “Right,” Viv said. “But the question remains … how did Irons get the head wound?”

  “Find out the truth,” Lin repeated what the ghost had communicated to her. “That’s what Irons wants us to do, but how are we going to figure that out? The records from the time are spotty. We don’t know if he had an accident or someone attacked him. Does the head injury relate to Irons’s work for Dr. Mitchell? What exactly was Irons doing for Mitchell?”

  “We’ve looked through the old newspapers,” Viv said. “We didn’t find anything listing the death of William Irons. We didn’t read about an accident on Canter. Is that odd? Were death notices listed in newspapers back then? Did the people who died on Canter have their names in the papers?”

  “Some did,” Anton told them. “The families would request an obituary or a simple few lines of notice. If the deceased was not from around here, but arrived on a boat from another country, the family would not bother to have a notice in the local paper.”

  “Irons was from England, but his wife was on Nantucket,” Lin pointed out. “I guess Merry Irons chose not to request a death announcement.”

  “She probably didn’t even think of it,” Anton added.

  Lin sat up. “Do you think Mrs. Irons might have put a death notice in the newspaper in their hometown in England?”

  Anton’s eyes widened. “Now why didn’t I think of that? It’s a definite possibility. I’ll do some online sleuthing and I’ll contact a friend I have in England. Very good thinking,” he told Lin.

  When Viv suggested Lin update Anton about the conversation she’d had recently with Samuel Mitchell, the young woman spent the next twenty minutes explaining what she’d learned.

  “Benjamin Mitchell sounds like a troubled man,” Anton agreed. “Intelligent, well-educated, and experienced, but difficult, driven and ambitious to a fault. I’m sorry to hear his internal demons resulted in the man taking his own life.”

  Lin said, “The woman we spoke with who is a descendant of Merry Silver Irons’s sister has a few letters from the Irons’ family. She believes Dr. Mitchell was hiring men to help him find a suitable site for a new dormitory or hospital on Canter. She thinks labor was scarce on the island and the doctor hired whoever was capable of helping him and that’s why he hired Irons. I’m not inclined to agree with her.”

  “We think Dr. Mitchell was doing something illegal,” Viv said. “We think he hired the men from the hospital to help in his secret work, whatever it was, in order to keep it as quiet as possible.”

  “What do you think of our theory?” Lin asked.

  “It’s a good theory … but right now, it’s only a theory. It must be proven.”

  “Are there any records of illegal activity being run out of Canter?” Lin questioned.

  “Not really,” Anton said. “There are suggestions of such activity, but no one was ever caught or arrested for anything of the sort. If there was something going on there, it was most likely not a large operation. That’s not to say it wasn’t a lucrative venture. It certainly might have been. If one or two men were smuggling or laundering money or some such thing, it could have brought in a small fortune.”

  “And that money would have been passed down to the son and the grandson,” Lin said with narrowed eyes.

  “That could be a large part of how Samuel Mitchell became so wealthy,” Viv added.

  Lin said, “Mitchell also told me his father heard a story from the grandfather about pirate’s treasure being hidden on Canter. The grandfather said he’d hunted for it on Canter, but only found a few doubloons.”

  Anton nodded. “There’s talk of treasure buried there, yes, and it could have been true. But other pirates probably found what was hidden, or the change in currents and tides over the years most likely washed the valuables away i
nto the sea.”

  “Samuel Mitchell thinks his grandfather was telling his son a tale trying to impress the child,” Lin said. “He doesn’t believe stories about the treasure was true.”

  “Pirate’s treasure or illegal activity,” Anton said. “It seems clear that Benjamin Mitchell was up to something on Canter. What it was, remains to be discovered.”

  “Samuel claims he hasn’t been back to Canter since he did his research,” Lin said.

  “But,” Viv said, “the charter boat guy says he’s seen Samuel’s boat at Canter several times.”

  One of Anton’s eyebrows went up and a cloud descended over his face. “Be very careful how you proceed with this case. Keep your eyes open … and your senses honed.”

  After leaving Anton’s house, Lin, Viv, Nicky, and Queenie strolled along the quiet sidewalks under the stars heading to their homes. A gentle breeze drifted into town over the ocean and Viv ran her hands up her arms.

  “There isn’t a lot to go on in this case,” Viv said. “I know the investigators on Canter have identified William Irons’s body and are now trying to locate his descendants in England, and if they find someone willing to take the body, then he’ll be going home.” The young woman eyed her cousin. “If they can’t find anyone, would you like to take a trip to England with me?”

  Lin turned to Viv. “What for?”

  “To bring my relative home. I’ll pay for him to be taken home and I’ll find a cemetery in Brighton where he can be buried.”

  “It will cost you a lot of money,” Lin warned.

  “The ghost wants to go home. It’s the least I can do for him.”

  Nicky looked up at Viv and woofed, his little tail wagging like crazy.

  “I’ll be happy to go with you,” Lin smiled.

  “We also need to find out the truth. That’s what he asked of us.” Viv thought it over. “I don’t know how we’re going to do that.”

  “We’ll just keep plugging away,” Lin said. “Maybe the old letters Connie Gallin has will tell us something. Her husband is supposed to be arriving on-island tomorrow with them. She’ll give us a call when we can go over to read them.”

  “I hope we can learn something from the letters,” Viv said. “One tiny clue, that’s all we need. Just one.”

  Lin wasn’t sure what her cousin would say to her next comment. “I think we need to go back to Canter.”

  Viv stopped walking and stared at Lin, a look of horror on her face. “Why? What can we possibly find out from walking around that place? I don’t like it there. I really don’t want to go back.”

  “I feel like it’s important. I feel like … I don’t know.” Lin looked down at her feet and moved her shoe over a small patch of sand before lifting her gaze to Viv. “We need to go back.”

  “Can we think about it?” Viv’s face looked pale under the light of the streetlamp. “Can we decide after we read the letters Mrs. Gallin has?”

  “Sure.” Lin gave a quick nod, knowing full well she’d go alone if she had to, but hoping Viv would decide to pay another visit with her to the small island.

  “Let’s talk about something else.” Viv sighed and began to walk towards home.

  “Has John decided what to do about selling his boat? Has he made a decision to buy another one?” Lin turned the subject away from Canter and William Irons.

  “I don’t know.” Viv pushed her hand through her hair. “Is he having a mid-life crisis or something?”

  Lin chuckled. “He’s only thirty-one.”

  “Maybe it’s hitting him early in life.” Viv shook her head. “Why does he want to move off of his boat? He’s had it for years. He loves that boat.”

  “It could be time for a change.”

  “Why though? Why the sudden urge to get something bigger? It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he just likes to spend his money.”

  “He certainly works hard for it,” Lin said. “He may as well enjoy the fruits of his labor. Let’s take a detour into town. I ran out of toothpaste.”

  Lin ducked into the town pharmacy while Viv stood on the sidewalk with the dog and cat.

  Some people walked by and smiled at Queenie. “Does she walk around with you like a dog?” one of them asked.

  “She does. She thinks she’s part canine, I guess,” told them.

  When the tourists moved up the sidewalk, a cold breeze wrapped itself around Viv and she pulled her cardigan closer before moving away from the building and glancing across the street.

  “I’m all set.” Lin came out of the store carrying a small brown bag. “Wow, it sure got cold. The wind must have shifted direction.”

  Viv stood like a statue on the sidewalk, her back to her cousin.

  Lin was about to say something when her eyes shifted to the other side of Main Street, and her heart stopped.

  The shimmering ghost stood diagonally across from them, a little further up Main.

  Lin watched him carefully, waiting to see if he might send her a clue. “Viv,” she whispered.

  Viv said nothing in return.

  Lin stepped closer to the young woman. “Viv, the ghost is here,” she said softly.

  Viv replied in a shaky voice. “I know. I can … see … him.”

  22

  In slow motion, Viv slipped back and fell into her cousin’s arms, and they both slid down to the sidewalk. Nicky and Queenie hurried to the woman’s side.

  She came to a few moments later and rubbed at her forehead. “I’ve passed out twice in the last seven days.”

  “You’re heading for a record,” Lin kidded as she took a quick look across the street. The ghost was gone.

  “Is the ghost…?” Viv asked.

  “He’s gone. He’s had enough of you fainting right before he gives you a clue.”

  Viv groaned.

  “Want me to get you a water bottle?” Lin asked.

  “No, thanks. I’m okay. Will you help me up?”

  Lin held Viv’s arm to steady her as she pulled herself to her feet and stared across the street. “He was right there. I saw him. I saw a ghost.” Viv looked into Lin’s eyes. “I saw a ghost.”

  “You always wanted to see one.” Lin smiled. “You’ve always wondered why the skill didn’t show up in you, but it was there all along.”

  Moving her eyes to the brick sidewalk under her feet, Viv let out a long breath. “I don’t know if I want to see another one. I don’t think I can handle it.”

  “What did he look like to you?”

  “Just the way you always describe them. Made of tiny particles. Particles that sort of glimmer and glow. It almost hurt my eyes for a minute.” Viv ran her hand over her eyelids.

  “Did he communicate with you?” Lin asked.

  “No.” Viv’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think so. No, he definitely didn’t.”

  “Did he gesture or point to anything?”

  “No.” Viv shook her head. “He only stood there.”

  “What was he wearing?”

  Viv described the man’s late nineteenth-century clothing.

  “That’s what I’ve seen him wearing,” Lin said. “What was his facial expression?”

  Viv’s eyes widened. “His facial expression? Gosh, I don’t know. I was so astonished by the whole thing. I think my mind went blank.”

  “It’s understandable.” Lin gave her cousin’s arm a warm squeeze.

  “He should have waited for you to come out of the store,” Viv’s voice was hoarse. “He should know by now that I’m useless.”

  “You are not useless,” Lin chided. “It takes time to become comfortable with the ghosts. I’m not even comfortable yet.”

  “Can we go home? I’m exhausted.” Viv slipped her arm through Lin’s. “Why did he show up? What are we supposed to learn from his appearance?”

  “I can’t answer that.” Lin led her cousin up Main Street while the dog and cat walked along behind them when Lin stopped short and slowly looked across the street at the historic house located not far fr
om the corner. “That house. Years ago, it used to have more land around it.” Something on the green rectangular patch of grass in front of the home sparkled from the streetlight. “Hold on.”

  “Don’t leave me,” Viv almost wailed.

  Lin ran across the street, bent to pick something up from the lawn, and then walked slowly back to where her cousin was standing. Reaching her hand out, she said, “Look.”

  Viv reached gingerly for the thing Lin was handing to her. A gold doubloon.

  “Why did he leave this for us?”

  “The ghost has appeared three times close to that corner. I think it’s something about that house,” Lin said before taking Viv’s arm and walking her home.

  Standing in Samuel Mitchell’s driveway, Lin had just kissed Jeff goodbye as he headed off in his truck to another client’s home. He’d finished work for the day on Mitchell’s kitchen.

  Lin was removing some garden tools from her truck bed when a man’s voice called hello to her from behind.

  “Oh, hi.” Lin greeted Samuel as he walked his bike up the driveway.

  “I had a wonderful ride. I went around the island. I even rode the trails through Sanford Farm. Spent three hours riding. It was great.”

  “It’s a nice day for it,” Lin said. “I might go for a ride after work.”

  “Why don’t you meet me on the patio.” Mitchell leaned his bike against the side of the house. “I’ll bring out some lemonade.”

  Lin was about to protest, but Mitchell disappeared inside the house.

  Looking down at Nicky, the young woman let out a sigh. “I can’t be sitting around,” she said quietly to the dog. “I need to get this work done.”

  Not wanting to be rude to Dr. Mitchell, Lin walked to the rear of the home and took a seat in the Adirondack chair on the patio, and a few minutes later, Mitchell emerged carrying a tray with two tall glasses and two glass pitchers. “Sometimes I like a vodka and lemonade after exercising.”

  Lin declined the alcohol and accepted a glass with only lemonade in it, but Mitchell poured a good amount of vodka into a glass and topped it off with lemonade for himself.