Mysteries of Billamore Hall Box Set

by B J Richards

  As far as Nathaniel knew, he was a Murphy and his descendants had been in Billamore almost as long as the Billamores had been in the town. He couldn't risk doubting his heritage because of assumptions made by a scientist who probably punched in the wrong data. For all he knew, she just mixed things up at her lab.

  "I don't believe this. It's just not possible," he said at last, voicing his doubts.

  Cindy started laughing, but stopped immediately when she saw Nathaniel wasn’t kidding. "Science doesn't lie, Detective Murphy."

  "It could’ve been human error, you probably mislabeled or something."

  "While human error is not entirely dismissible, I doubt this is the case. But you can come along to my lab when you're free and we can do another run. I’ll even draw more blood and compare with the tissue sample, which I still have by the way." She paused momentarily before explaining. "The preservation of the body tissue was simply marvelous. I couldn't dispose of it. I hope you don't mind."

  "How about now?" Nathaniel said, pushing himself out of the booth and paying the check.

  "I'm sorry?"

  "Now. Let's go test it now."

  ***

  Some minutes later, Nathaniel paced in the basement of the precinct waiting for DNA confirmation. Cindy had drawn a fresh blood sample from him and was in the lab now running the analysis again. She’ll be back in here any minute, apologizing because she messed it up the first time.

  Just then Cindy walked back into the room where Nathaniel was waiting. "What's the verdict?" He looked her in the eye, aware he was feeling nervous and a little off his game from the anticipation.

  Cindy gave him a small smile. She was unsure if she was delivering bad news or good news. "I was right the first time, Detective Murphy. Whoever the tissue belonged to is your ancestor."

  CHAPTER SIX

  The first place Nathaniel drove to when he left Cindy's lab, was to his childhood home. The same house where generations of Murphys had lived, decade after decade. Where his grandparents had lived and his father grew up.

  He couldn’t stop the theories rushing through his head as he drove. Maybe one of Annabel’s kids had a daughter who married a Murphy. Maybe that was how he had her DNA. But he thought back to the school project of tracing his roots he’d done in high school and nothing had suggested that. There had been no Billamores anyplace in his family history... at least that he’d found.

  "Except maybe they hadn't been named Billamore!" he said out loud as he hit the steering wheel with his fist while flipping the car around. Whatever the story was, he wasn't sure anyone in his family would know any more than he did. And they’d probably be just as surprised as he was.

  He thought then of his father who had died when he was two. Nathaniel had seen pictures of his father and knew he also had heterochromia iridium. But he doubted he ever knew, and so his mom would’ve known nothing.

  Nathaniel drove to the only man who might have an answer for him, and hoped to hell he was at home.

  ***

  John Montgomery was at his front door on the way out, when Nathaniel walked up the steps of his porch. He looked ashen and in a hurry. "I'm afraid I can't help with whatever you’re here for, Detective. I have a class in thirty minutes, so I have to get going," he said as he descended the porch steps.

  "How about I give you a ride then. The Community College, right? I can get you there faster since I have the precinct car," Nathaniel suggested, hoping the professor would accept his offer. He could see John was worried about something, but whatever it was, it wasn't just being late for class.

  "Fine," John agreed at last.

  As Nathaniel got in the car he asked the question he'd been dying to ask since he found out Annabel might be his ancestor. "Do you know who adopted Annabel Billamore's twins?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Matron Mattie Montgomery. In the letters you found written by her about Annabel and her delivery. Did she by any chance mention who she gave the boys to? I mean, that was the only way she could’ve kept them safe from Drake and Elinore Billamore, right?" Nathaniel felt like an idiot asking, but he had to know.

  "Um, I don't know. I haven't gone back to those letters since," John Montgomery said as he wiped his hands on his pant legs, his cheeks flushed and showing more color than he knew.

  "Are you alright?" Nathaniel asked.

  "Yes, I'm fine. Look, I'm sorry I don't have answers for you."

  "But just two weeks ago, you told Sandra you’d spent more time looking into Annabel Billamore since her first visit and had become curious. I’d think knowing where her boys went was essential information. Wouldn’t you agree?" Nathaniel asked, his voice taking on a slight edge.

  "Is this an interrogation, Detective?" John asked, squinting at him in a way that took Nathaniel back.

  "No sir, it's not. I just want to know if you have any credible information that could lead me to where both boys went after their mother's death."

  "I have to ask, Detective. Why are you interested in this exactly? I mean, your friend Sandra was interested because Annabel Billamore was a distant cousin of hers. That I understand. But why you? Why are you interested in something that happened over a hundred years ago? Surely, you’re not going to arrest people for what happened to Annabel. Those people are all dead."

  Nathaniel sighed. John Montgomery was not interested in giving him any information at all. Feeling he had no other choice, he decided to play his last card and come clean, no matter how crazy it sounded in his head.

  "Annabel Billamore was also an ancestor of mine. I just found out today. But I'm not sure if one of her sons had a daughter who married into my family, or if one of her boys was adopted into mine."

  "The Y chromosome is more dominant in the male gene. That's why their heterochromia is dominant, too. Chances are, the descendants were also male," John Montgomery said hurriedly before he paused, as if he realizing he’d just misspoke.

  "So you know more than you're letting on," Nathaniel accused as he drove into the parking lot of the Community College.

  "No, I do not. But whoever expounded the theory you’re a Billamore descendant, they’re wrong. You are blue eyed, detective. That ultimately disqualifies you," John brusquely replied and slammed the car door without saying goodbye.

  Nathaniel sat in his car and watched John Montgomery rush through the college door. He knew people. And years on the force told him this man wasn’t just in a hurry. He was a man afraid. But of what?

  ***

  John Montgomery took his first deep breath when he got to his office. He closed the door behind him and searched for the burner phone in his bottom desk drawer. Dialing the number he’d memorized, he realized his hands were shaking and his heart was racing. “Damn it… why isn’t he answering,” he muttered under his breath.

  Finally, a gruff voice answered the other end of the line. "Yeah."

  "Whatever you’re doing, I expect you're not being cautious," John said, fuming into the phone.

  "What the hell are you going on about, Professor?" the voice asked.

  "I need you to be more systematic about things. We can't afford more attention than we already have. If you're right about your men having found the chest, I think you should be more careful about how you approach this going forward."

  The voice just laughed at him. "Oh… the professor hiding behind his desk is telling me how to do my job… that’s rich."

  "Damn it, Daniel!" John banged the desk with his fist. "I think a detective knows. There's a Detective Murphy who’s asking questions about the descendants of the Billamore family. Specifically, Annabel and Philip Billamore's descendants. That's you, Daniel. He knows something, and we have to be sure he doesn’t get wind of our plan. So, make sure your boys are extra careful before they go anywhere near that tunnel again!"

  John was seething and he didn’t care if Daniel knew it. Nor did he wait for a reply before he hung up on him and slammed his fist into the desk again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN
<
br />   "Hey, honey, finally," Josephine said as she unlocked the door of the florist shop to let Nathaniel in. She hadn't seen him since morning. Now it was 6pm and even Sandra was there passing the time with her.

  Josephine cocked her head and looked directly at him. "Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

  Nathaniel gave her a quick kiss before walking to the back where Sandra was. "I might have." His voice was tired and he was frustrated at this point.

  "What are you talking about?" Josephine pressed. Sandra had already locked on at full attention.

  "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. But let's talk about Dickson first. How's he doing?" Nathaniel asked Sandra.

  "You mean besides bored out of his mind? He’s fine. And he has my office littered with police work."

  Nathaniel gave a small smile, "I'll go take over from him soon."

  "So what aren't we going to believe you about?" Josephine asked after some minutes, chopstick in hand, munching away on the Chinese they’d ordered.

  Nathaniel filled a plate and took a bite, just as his stomach growled. He remembered then he’d barely had two bites of his burger before Cindy interrupted him at lunch.

  Sandra grinned, shaking her head. "You must be so hungry."

  "You have no idea," Nathaniel replied before looking over at Josephine. "I promise I’ll tell you everything, just let me get down a few bites."

  Managing to get a little dinner down, Nathaniel took a sip of water and blurted out, "I found out I'm a Billamore today."

  Sandra and Josephine looked at each other and laughed. "What the hell are you talking about?" Sandra asked.

  "I asked the medical examiner at the lab the same thing today," Nathaniel said gulping down a bit more dinner. "I've had a really weird day."

  "Cindy told you you're a Billamore? How did she come by that?" Josephine asked when she noticed Nathaniel wasn't in the least bit joking.

  "Annabel Billamore's body tissue. The one you gave me to test for poison weeks ago. I watched her test it with my blood today and it matched. She's my ancestor. And the theory is, either one of her sons must’ve been adopted into the Murphy family or one of their daughters married into the Murphy family. But Professor Montgomery doesn't think it’s the latter. He said Y chromosomes are male dominant… or something..." Nathaniel took another drink of water, then sighed and rubbed his eyes.

  "Oh my gosh! This is fantastic news. We can go to Professor Montgomery and ask if he knows where Mattie sent the babies. Then we trace it from there to be certain!" Josephine exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement.

  "Of course my fiancée thinks it's fantastic," Nathaniel said half-heatedly.

  "I think so, too!" Sandra was just as excited as Josephine. "This would make us distant cousins! Oh, my God, this is awesome!"

  "I'm glad you ladies are enjoying yourselves." Nathaniel said calmly. "I already asked Montgomery and he wasn’t the least bit helpful. And I got the feeling he was hiding something, but I couldn't pinpoint it. So now, I have no other source of information. I doubt my family knows much of anything. Especially if a girl with Billamore DNA married into the Murphy family. So, I think I'm just going to chalk this up as another weird thing that has happened around Annabel’s painting."

  "No, you're not! This is family. This is history. You have to find out, and I think there may still be public records from that time at the Town Hall. We’ll start checking there and see where it goes," Josephine announced firmly.

  "Don't you think Mattie would’ve kept the records away from there, especially if she was hiding the boys from the Billamores?" Nathaniel questioned.

  "Actually, most of the old records at the Town Hall were brought there during the mid-1950s," Sandra said. "When the asylum and other old institutions shut down, the Town Hall Secretary decided to transfer all the information over to there. And that would’ve been long after Elinore and Drake Billamore were gone. There was no one looking at that point."

  Nathaniel nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll check it out tomorrow."

  "We'll check it out," Josephine reminded him.

  Nathaniel grinned. "Fine. But now I’ve got to get to the museum or Dickson will have my head."

  ***

  "Are you ready?" Josephine asked Nathaniel as they got to the Town Hall the next day.

  "Let's do this." Nathaniel tried to appear nonchalant, but Josephine could hear the strain in his voice.

  "Excuse me, where can we get the asylum birth records of the late nineteenth century?" Nathaniel asked the attendant behind the counter.

  "Those are at the farthest shelf on the left," the woman said, pointing while barely lifting her eyes from the papers she was working on.

  "Thanks, ma'am." Nathaniel turned and headed in the appropriate direction with Josephine in tow. He began with one box of records, while Josephine started with another.

  “This is another dead end, Jo,” Nathaniel said. He’d been looking through the records for anyone with the name of Billamore or Carson, but found nothing.

  “Maybe not. Look, Nate.” Josephine pointed to what she was talking about. Following a faded asterisk at the bottom of the page was a scribbled notation. It stated twin boys were birthed in 1878 under the name B'more, adopted by the Murphy and Carrigan families. Under the notation in barely visible writing, was the name Mattie Montgomery. Mattie hadn’t taken the twins to convents after all. She’d personally seen to it they were adopted into families and not put into an orphanage.

  Nathaniel was quiet, letting it all sink in. He squeezed Josephine’s hand, then silently walked back up to the front desk to sign the visitor’s log, something he’d forgotten to do when he first came in.

  That’s when he saw it. Two years ago, another person had been to the Town Hall and checked the exact same records, inquiring about the children of Annabel Billamore. The signature very clearly read, “John Montgomery”.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Another week had passed, and Sandra, Josephine, Nathaniel and Josh sat in Sandra’s office at the museum, watching the camera feeds. It had become a regular week-end event for them at this point. They all knew the suspects would come back, it was just a matter of when.

  "So, what’s the possibility of them showing up, guns blazing?" Josh asked. He’d settled himself beside Sandra, her hand tucked in his.

  Sandra was glad they’d become a regular item by now, and Josh had accepted the whole crazy story around Annabel’s diary and the Billamore treasure. In fact, he told her he found it rather exciting.

  "That's not their modus operandi. They don’t want to cause a public display and prefer to come and go quietly… although they don't mind killing, but not with guns. None of the previous three curators were murdered with guns either. So, don't worry, you're not going to die by gunshot today," Nathaniel said and grinned.

  "Thanks pal, that's oddly reassuring." Josh squeezed Sandra’s hand and laughed.

  "So, Nate, did you find anything useful on your Town Hall trip yesterday?" Sandra asked.

  Nathaniel shrugged. "I don't know. I guess a portion of Billamore blood flows through mine. One of the twins was adopted by a Murphy family, and the other by a Carrigan family. The records didn’t say exactly who in the Murphy family adopted the boy. Either they knew who the baby really was and decided to keep it quiet, or were completely uninformed as to who the natural parents were. There’s really no way to know at this point.” Nathaniel paused and looked away. "No big deal though. I've been a Murphy all my life and DNA isn't going to change anything for me. Annabel wanted her boys safe, and safe they were."

  Josephine smiled and squeezed his hand. "It's okay to be a bit rattled by all this. You've just found out about a huge piece of your family’s history, and I have to admit, it's a bit exciting. I mean, the chance of being related to Annabel… you’re her dream come true. And if you have more questions, we’ll keep digging. I feel like that's what we do around here now, anyway... chase after clues and answer questions."

 
Nathaniel smiled and pulled Josephine close. "Thanks, detective." He couldn’t resist kissing her head, even if it meant getting a strand of red curly hair in his mouth.

  "Did you say the other adopting family was Carrigan?" Josh asked some minutes later.

  "Yes. That's also the name of the artist who painted Annabel’s portrait," Nathaniel replied. "The records we found don’t say much about the Carrigans that adopted the other twin, other than their name. We don’t know if it was the artist and his wife, or someone else with that last name. And I really have no reason to be searching for them other than pure curiosity."

  "Well, if you're still being curious, I suggest you check Dorson. That's where I worked before I moved here, and I could’ve sworn I worked with a nurse by the name of Carrigan while I was there," Josh provided.

  "That's two towns from here," Nathaniel said, thinking out loud.

  "Indeed it is. A much quieter town, too."

  Nathaniel’s phone rang. He got up to answer it privately while the others chatted amongst themselves. Hanging up, he filled them in. “That was Dickson. He’s on his way here to relieve us and will text Sandra as soon as he needs to be let in.” It was almost 2pm, and everyone was getting restless watching the camera feeds.

  Sandra reluctantly stood up. She was tired and bored, but the chance of missing something happen gnawed at her. Shortly after that, her cell beeped to a text alert. “That’s Dickson now at the front door. I’ll go let him in and be right back.”

  It only took a moment until Sandra was back with Dickson right beside her. His brown wavy hair was still a bit damp from his work-out in the pool earlier, and when wet, matched his deep brown eyes and long lashes.

  “Hey guys, all still quiet?” Dickson joked.

  “Same as it has been,” Nathaniel replied. “We saved you some chips and soda. And there’s some left-over pizza in Sandra’s mini-fridge if you want it.”

  “Thanks, maybe later. Just ate. You guys take off. I’ve got it covered now.”

  “Thanks, Pal. I’ll be back to relieve you later tonight.”