“I’m flattered to hear that,” An’gel said. “But I have to say, I don’t think I would have advised her to sell the house because of your prank.”
Henry Howard nodded. “I see that now.”
“I’m not angry with you,” An’gel said. “I do want to know how you got in and out of the room without anyone seeing or suspecting.”
“Through the bathroom next door,” Henry Howard said.
An’gel blinked in surprise. She had pretty well given up on the idea of a secret door between the two rooms. “I knew it, I just knew it,” she muttered.
Henry Howard frowned. “I’m sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t quite catch it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” An’gel said. “Where is this door? I suspected there might be another way into that room.”
“I found it by a fluke, I guess you’d call it, about eight months ago when I was repainting the bathroom,” Henry Howard said. “You remember where that tall wardrobe is in the French room?” After An’gel nodded, he continued. “Well, that wardrobe is attached to the wall, although you might not realize it. When I was painting the bathroom, I noticed cracks in the paint. The room hadn’t been painted in years, you see. I kept thinking the cracks looked like a door, and I was right.
“It isn’t a full-sized door.” Henry Howard sketched a form in the air with his hands. “Just enough to squeeze through if you stoop a little. Anyway, I got curious and kept poking around it, and I hit something and suddenly the panel swung out. At first I thought it was only some kind of hidden cabinet, but when I got a flashlight, I could see a similar-sized set of cracks in what I thought was part of the wall. Plus there was a small latch. When I slid the panel back, I realized it opened into the wardrobe.”
“I’m sure you climbed through it into the French room,” An’gel said. She certainly would have.
“I did,” Henry Howard said. “I felt like one of the Hardy Boys. I used to read those when I was a kid, and there was even a book in the series called The Secret Panel. So there I was, in the French room, and I realized that I could go back and forth between the rooms without anybody knowing about it.”
“You didn’t tell Mary Turner about your discovery?”
“No, I didn’t,” Henry Howard said. “I know I should have, but she had never said anything to me about a secret panel. I figured she didn’t know about it, and I guess it tickled me that I knew something about the house that she didn’t.”
“I suppose finding the door gave you the idea to play ghost,” An’gel said. She could understand the temptation, though she certainly never would have yielded to it.
“Yes, it did,” Henry Howard said a bit sheepishly. “I tried it out a couple of times, going into the room and moving things, and nobody caught on. The maids and Mary Turner all assumed that it was a spirit, because the door and the windows are always kept locked.”
“Couldn’t you have done the same thing by going through the door or one of the windows?” An’gel asked.
Henry Howard shrugged. “I guess, but it might have been more noticeable. If I went in to use the bathroom, no one would think twice about it if they saw me going in or coming out. I always ran water in the sink and flushed the toilet before I came out of the bathroom.”
“Do you think anyone else knows about this secret panel?” An’gel asked.
“I don’t think so,” Henry Howard said. “I think Mary Turner’s father might have known, but if he did, he never told her about it.”
“Did you tell her earlier when you confessed to being the ghost?” An’gel asked.
“I didn’t get the chance,” Henry Howard said. “She blew up at me before I could tell her, and then you and Miss Dickce came into the kitchen.”
“I see.” An’gel would definitely ask Mary Turner about it. She had one more question for Henry Howard now.
“Did you enter the French room through the secret panel last night in order to murder Nathan Gamble?”
CHAPTER 31
An’gel watched Henry Howard carefully to gauge his reaction to her question.
“No, I most certainly did not kill Nathan Gamble,” Henry Howard said, immediately and firmly. He stared An’gel straight in the eye when he said it, and she believed him.
She told him so, and he looked relieved. “But you did sneak into the room through the secret panel last night.” She deliberately made it a statement rather than a question.
“How did you know?” Henry Howard said. “Are you sure you’re not the psychic?” he added in a jocular tone.
“I’m no psychic,” An’gel said, “but I do have a good memory. For example, I remember this morning you asked me how I had slept. When I told you that I had slept fine, you seemed a bit taken aback. That seemed an odd reaction, but I didn’t think much about it at the time. Once I knew about your ghostly activities, I remembered it and reevaluated it.”
“You’re right,” Henry Howard said. “I did sneak in there last night with the intent to frighten you a little. I had a small flashlight with a weak beam, but I couldn’t see well because I had a mask on. I didn’t realize it wasn’t you in the bed.”
“Did you get any kind of reaction from whatever your little performance entailed?” An’gel asked.
Henry Howard frowned. “I’m not really sure. I thought I heard a moan or two, but I’m not even sure that it came from the person on the bed. I didn’t get real close to the bed, you see. I stayed close to the wardrobe in case I needed to make a fast exit.”
“That’s, what, maybe four feet away from the bed?” An’gel asked.
“About that, yes,” Henry Howard replied.
“Did you see any movement on the bed?” An’gel wondered whether Nathan Gamble was alive or dead when Henry Howard was in the room.
Henry Howard thought about that for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. Does this mean you think he was already dead when I went in?”
“It’s entirely possible,” An’gel said. “What time was it?”
“A few minutes past midnight,” Henry Howard said. “I came home a little before eleven, and Mary Turner was sound asleep in our room. I looked in on her and then went to the library to wait until midnight. I actually read for a while. Then I came back upstairs to do my ghost bit.”
“Did you see anybody else when you arrived home last night?” An’gel said. “Notice anyone’s lights on, anything that might indicate someone else was up?”
“For an alibi, you mean?” Henry Howard asked.
“Partly,” An’gel said.
Henry Howard frowned while he thought about it. “I remember seeing light under a bedroom door when I went up to check on my wife. From Primrose Pace’s room, or whatever her real name is.”
“Alesha Jackson,” An’gel said. “Was the light on both ways? That is, when you went to the room and then when you went downstairs?”
“When I went to the room, I’m sure it was,” Henry Howard said. “But I can’t remember whether it was on the way back.”
“Of course, having a light on in the room doesn’t mean she was in there,” An’gel said, more to herself than to Henry Howard.
“No, guests go out all the time and leave lights burning,” Henry Howard said.
“While you were in the library, could you hear anyone moving about the house?”
“No,” Henry Howard said. “I closed the door to keep the light from shining into the hall, and that cuts off a lot of sound.”
“What bedroom is over the library?” An’gel said. “Isn’t it the room Alesha Jackson is in?”
“Yes, you’re right,” Henry Howard said. “So I guess you want to know if I heard anything overhead.”
An’gel nodded.
He shook his head. “Not that I recall.”
An’gel couldn’t think of another question for him. Now came the hard part—persuading him to
tell his story to Lieutenant Steinberg.
“Lieutenant Steinberg needs to hear all this,” An’gel said. “He doesn’t know about the secret panel, and he will want his people to examine it. You say no one else knows about it, but you can’t be completely certain. If someone else did use it to get into the French room to murder Nathan Gamble, then there could be evidence, as long as you didn’t destroy it when you went through the panel, that is.”
Henry Howard appeared dazed by the flood of words. Then his face cleared. “I know you’re right, but I don’t look forward to telling him. What if he thinks I killed Nathan Gamble?” Now he started to look panicky.
“There’s a possibility he could think you’re the killer,” An’gel said. “But my impression of him is that he’s tough and a stickler for doing things right. That includes arresting the right person. Dickce and I will stand behind you, and I’m sure Mary Turner will, too.”
“Thank you,” Henry Howard said. “I hope you’re right about my wife. When she gets as angry as she did when I told her what I’d done, it can take her a long time to cool down, and she’s not always reasonable again until she does.”
“She’ll come around,” An’gel said. “Don’t you worry.” Because I’ll see that she does, she added silently.
“I guess I’d better get in touch with the lieutenant,” Henry Howard said.
“Yes, but before you do, I thought of one more question,” An’gel said with a quick smile. “Just to satisfy my curiosity. What kind of mask were you wearing? I want to know what you thought may frighten me.”
“It wasn’t anything horrible, like a demon or a monster,” Henry Howard said. “It’s a woman’s face that is made up to look like an otherworldly spirit. With a little light shining on it, it’s creepy looking, I think.”
“That might have spooked me a little,” An’gel said. “But it would never have been enough to achieve your purpose.”
“I realize that now,” Henry Howard said. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Miss An’gel.”
“I already have,” she said. “Now go make that phone call.”
Henry Howard rose. “I will, but will you talk to Mary Turner for me?”
“Yes,” An’gel said. “I’ll go look for her now.” She sat for a moment longer, until Henry Howard had left the room. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to say to Mary Turner in defense of Henry Howard. Perhaps the best strategy was simply to let Mary Turner talk to her, encourage her to let go of everything. She got to her feet. The kitchen was the first place to look, she decided, and she headed there.
Only Marcelline was in the kitchen, An’gel discovered. Upon being questioned about Mary Turner’s whereabouts, Marcelline shook her head. “I’m not sure, Miss An’gel. I know she was planning to talk to Serenity, but that was before she found out about Mr. Henry acting like he was a ghost. She was so upset, she might have gone somewhere to cool off.”
An’gel said, “Thank you. I might try Mrs. Foster’s room, at least to start. Do you know which one she’s in?”
“Room four,” Marcelline said. “Toward the end away from the house.”
“One more question,” An’gel said. “Do you know where my sister went?”
“We just finished talking a few minutes ago,” Marcelline replied. “I believe she said she was going to look for Benjy.”
“All right. Thank you again.” An’gel wondered if Dickce had gleaned any useful information from the housekeeper. She checked her watch. She still had about twenty minutes before she was due to meet Alesha Jackson. She might as well see if she could find either Mary Turner or Dickce.
An’gel stepped out the back door into the courtyard. The afternoon was cool, and this side of the house was increasingly in shadow as the sun moved lower in the sky on the other, western-facing side. She walked across the courtyard toward the annex, found Serenity Foster’s room, and knocked.
After a moment, Serenity opened the door. An’gel looked past her and saw Mary Turner seated on a chair, her face turned away from the door and her shoulders slumped.
“What do you want?” Serenity asked, her tone verging on hostile.
“I’m looking for Mary Turner,” An’gel said. “I need to speak to her about something.”
Serenity turned to face Mary Turner. “You might as well leave and go talk to her. I don’t have anything more to say to you.”
As An’gel watched, Mary Turner rose from the chair. An’gel could see she had been crying.
Mary Turner stumbled toward the door. Serenity moved aside, but as Mary Turner reached the threshold, she paused and stared hard at her cousin.
“This isn’t the end of it,” Mary Turner said. “I’ll find a way to get the money. You’re not going to take anything away from me.”
Serenity pushed her out and slammed the door. Mary Turner lurched toward An’gel involuntarily but managed to stop herself before knocking into the older woman.
An’gel put out a hand to steady her. “What on earth was going on between you two? You look like you’ve had terrible news.”
Mary Turner nodded. “It is, the worst news possible. I thought she might be easier to deal with than Nathan was, but I was wrong. She’s even worse than he ever dared to be.” She burst into tears, and An’gel, after a momentary hesitation, drew her away from the door and put her arms around the troubled young woman.
“Whatever it is,” An’gel said, “I will help you sort it out. Do you feel like telling me what’s happened?”
Mary Turner pulled away after a moment and looked at An’gel, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “Yes, please. Let’s go in the kitchen, though.”
“Is it something you can talk about in front of Marcelline?” An’gel asked as they started to walk toward the back door.
“Oh, yes, she already knows about it,” Mary Turner said. “She was actually with me when I got the news from Nathan himself last night.”
“When was that?” An’gel asked. “I didn’t realize you had talked to him last night.”
Mary Turner nodded. “He came down to the kitchen about nine thirty last night, I think it was. Marcelline and I were there, talking about things. We often do. Anyway, Nathan asked for a glass of hot milk. Marcelline said she wasn’t about to do it. She really loathed him, you know. Well, Nathan got mad, and they started arguing. I tried to stop it, but they wouldn’t pay any attention to me. Then finally Nathan said something that stopped Marcelline in her tracks.”
They had reached the back door, and Mary Turner stood with her hand on the knob. She had paled suddenly, to An’gel’s alarm. Before she could express concern, however, Mary Turner continued in a rush.
“Nathan said she was soon going to be out of a job. He would see to it personally. Marcelline asked him what he meant by that, and he laughed.” Mary Turner paused for a moment, and tears began welling in her eyes. “He said he owned the mortgage on the house, and he was going to foreclose on it.”
“Mortgage? What mortgage?” An’gel asked.
“I took one out about three years ago when we needed money for some extensive repairs and restoration,” Mary Turner said. “I’ve been struggling a little to pay it back, and I got behind.”
“Does Henry Howard know about this?” An’gel asked.
Mary Turner shook her head. “No, I didn’t tell him. The house is in my name, so I could do it without his knowledge. I’ve always handled the finances anyway. He prefers it because he hates dealing with any kind of bookkeeping.” She rubbed the tears away with her free hand. The other still clutched the doorknob.
“I went to Serenity just now to beg her to help me, since I figured she probably inherits everything.”
“But she said she wouldn’t,” An’gel said.
“No, she said the moment she owned the house, she was going to sell all the contents and then tear it completely down because that’s what Na
than intended to do.”
CHAPTER 32
“Did Nathan tell you himself he intended to tear the house down?” An’gel asked.
“No, he didn’t,” Mary Turner said, her voice catching on a sob. “But it sounds like something he would do.”
“I think Serenity is grossly exaggerating the situation, simply because she wants to upset you as much as possible, my dear,” An’gel said.
“Exaggerating? How?” Mary Turner asked, a note of hope in her voice.
“Let’s go inside, and I’ll tell you,” An’gel said.
“All right.” Mary Turner opened the door, and An’gel followed her into the kitchen. Marcelline was nowhere in sight.
“Now have a seat and let’s talk for a minute. I think I can set your fears to rest.” An’gel glanced at her watch. Ten minutes until her appointment with Alesha Jackson.
Once they were seated across from each other at the kitchen table, An’gel explained. “This house is on the National Register of Historic Places, and it’s also recognized as a Mississippi landmark. The state historical commission that oversees landmarks would have to meet and agree that the property could be demolished. Frankly, I doubt they would agree to let this house be torn down. Then there’s the issue of whether Serenity will inherit the right to control the mortgage. By the time the will gets sorted out, if Nathan left one, you will be able to catch up on your mortgage payments.”
Mary Turner’s face had brightened the longer An’gel talked, but at An’gel’s last sentence, her face fell again.
“I’ll never be able to catch up,” Mary Turner said. “Business is always pretty slow after the first of the year, until people start reserving rooms for the pilgrimage.”
“I imagine I can help you find a way to catch up,” An’gel said. She and Dickce would have to see how badly in arrears the mortgage was, of course, before making a final decision, but somehow they would see to it that Mary Turner didn’t lose her historic home. An’gel knew she could speak for her sister on this. They couldn’t let their old friend’s granddaughter down.
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