The Secrets of Water

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

“Oh, yes! I confirmed that my train leaves tomorrow. I’ve arranged for a local boy to carry my things to the station. You know, so Mr. Brown doesn’t have to do it. I do say, though, I’m surprised to see you here, Mr. Wagner. I thought you’d be in London settling the last of my affairs,” Addie added coolly as sipped her tea, skillfully using the teacup to hide her expression.

  “Dinner is served.” The same maid that had brought the biscuits appeared in the door well a short time later, announcing that Mrs. Sargent’s nightly feast was ready.

  “Mr. Wagner, would you care to stay for dinner?” Edith asked, knowing full well that he’d only be too eager to accept her offer. With a hearty yes, Randall escorted the two women into dining room. He made sure Edith was seated before assuming his position at her side, leaving Addie to seat herself. Addie frowned at being neglected but decided not to speak up until she and Wagner could find a moment alone later.

  Fiona, Mrs. Sargent’s niece, and the biscuit maid carried in the evening’s fare as Edith uncorked the bottle. “Did I tell you that this is a special wine?” she announced as she poured both Mr. Wagner and Addie a full glass each.

  “Oh?” Wagner perked up, inhaling the delicate aroma of the crisp Pinot Grigio. “Dinner smells heavenly, by the way, Edith. You must give Mrs. Sargent our compliments.” He went to sample the golden brew, but Edith stopped him.

  “Not before our toast,” she reprimanded him gently and rose up from her seat. “Edward gave me this bottle.” She cast a sideways glance at two vile pieces of scum who flanked the opposite sides of the table. “We were supposed to drink it on the night he was to return from London,” she explained while her guests pretended to listen with rapt attention. “But, as you know, tragedy struck before that could happen. That is why I wanted to share this bottle with you tonight. To celebrate Edward’s life and give thanks that his memory will not be forgotten. To Edward!” Edith raised her glass, as did Addie and Wagner. Edith raised her glass to her lips but hesitated as the others drank with zeal. Wagner gulped the wine down like a man dying of dehydration. Addie took a sip and after discovering she liked the taste, drained her glass, as well.

  Offering them each a refill, Edith watched then drain their glasses a second time all the while trying to hide the gleeful expectation that coursed through her.

  As dinner began, Edith took only a small spoonful of mushrooms while Addie and Wagner heaped piles of roast chicken, roasted vegetables, and wild mushrooms upon their plates. Everyone began eating but it soon it struck the guests that Edith wasn’t nearly as hungry as they were.

  “Why aren’t you eating, Edith, dear?” Randall asked, curious as to why she had very little appetite. “Has your headache come back? Has your melancholia returned? I know how it robs you of your appetite!”

  “Oh, Edith, darling! I do hope that you aren’t catching ill?” Addie openly smirked, her eyes failing to hide the joy that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “No,” Edith said matter-of-factly as she poured the last of the sweet white wine into her guest’s glasses. “I’m not ill. Well, technically, speaking, I am experiencing some illness, but the doctor assured me that it should dissipate sometime within the second trimester.” Edith took a small bite of mushrooms without looking up. The sound of silver cutlery clashing against bone china fractured the peaceful air.

  “What?” Both Addie and Wagner shouted at the same time. Randall stared gob smacked while Addie’s face went purple with fury.

  “What do you mean ‘trimester’?” Randall grumbled, visibly stunned. “Edith, dear? Do you mean to tell us that you’re…” he grasped for words. “That you’re with child?” Randall’s eyes grew like saucers as he stole a glance at her burgeoning stomach.

  “The doctor believes that I’m about three months along.” Edith confidently met both serpents with a victorious smile. “I’m carrying Edward’s child.” She smiled sweetly, treasuring the life growing inside of her.

  “You’re pregnant? That’s impossible! You can’t be pregnant?” Addie’s shrill scream pierced Edith’s ears. “How the fuck can you be pregnant, you, stupid bitch! Edward’s dead!” Addie devolved from a mannerly young woman to a raging psychopath. “You, fucking whore! How long did you think you could keep this a secret from me? I ought to cut that babe from your stomach, you worthless cunt!” Addie trembled with fury. During her diatribe, she managed to grab her fork and held it menacingly towards Edith. “I was supposed to be the mother of his child, not you! I was his muse, but you stole him from me! I should slice your throat and kill that brat along with you!”

  “Hold your tongue, Miss Grey! Or I will see to it that it’s cut from your mouth!” Wagner warned menacingly but kept to his seat.

  “Edward never loved you, Addie,” Edith said with the utmost control. Even though she wanted slice Addie’s own throat in half with the carving knife, she resisted the urge. Soon enough, nature would take care of it for her.

  “You lie!” Addie’s soulless eyes burned furiously. “Edward did love me! He was just too much of a gentleman to tell you that he had grown tired of you. That’s why he went to London, after all. He and I were planning to run away together. I’m certain that the whole California thing was just a ruse and that he and I were going to run away to France! I tucked a note in his carry on. He was to meet me in Piccadilly before his life was stolen from him!” Addie’s eyes flashed accusingly towards Randall before affixing upon Edith once more.

  “No, Addie, he was murdered.” Edith wiped her delicate mouth and rested her napkin back upon her lap. “Edward found your note and showed it to me before he threw it in the fireplace. It was pathetic how you begged him to understand that you were the only person that could bring him fame and fortune. You’re just as delusional now as you were then.” Edith’s hand flew to her stomach as a sudden fluttering flitted just below her navel. Addie fumed in response, her porcelain skin flushed crimson while her chest heaved with growing anger. “It doesn’t pain me in the slightest to tell you this but, Edward didn’t love you. He didn’t even like you. From the moment that he met you, he suspected that you were up to something. He tried to make me see the evil, manipulative, thieving creature you are but foolishly, I refused listen until it was too late. When he went to London, he was booking our passage to America. We were going to move to California and start over but all of that ended when you two had him murdered.”

  Addie snatched up her wineglass. Forgetting that it was empty, she attempted to throw its contents in Edith’s face and failed. Edith met her former friend with a look of victory. A look that only provoked Addie’s already out of control anger.

  “That’s a goddamned lie! I never wanted him to die!” Addie screamed as she forced a fresh fall of tears to her eyes.

  “Lies.” Edith’s head turned in a violent snap. “Do you remember that letter that you were so panicked about?” Edith pulled the object in question out of her pocket and held it up to where both Addie and Randall could see. “The one where you wrote to Mr. Wagner about why Edward needed to die. The one where you said that if you couldn’t have him, no one could. I especially love how you both tried to orchestrate a scheme to have me institutionalized. ‘That bitch deserves to spend her life in an asylum for stealing my Edward and that fortune from me,’” Edith repeated Addie’s words back to her. Addie flew out of her seat, snatching the letter out of her hands. Without hesitating, she ripped the letter to shreds before gloating over her supposed triumph.

  “You, stupid bitch!” Addie mocked her. “So what if I wrote it? You no longer have any proof!” To Addie’s horror, Edith merely laughed.

  “Oh, Addie,” Edith shook her head as she clucked her tongue. “Poor, stupid, foolish Addie. Do you think I would have brought the original? If you’d taken a second to actually look at that letter, you’d have seen that it was my handwriting, not yours. I wrote it out before coming down here. The original is somewhere safe. Some place that neither of you will ever find it.”

  “Edith,” Wagner inte
rjected. “Edith, I want you to know that I never—”

  “Save it for when you meet your maker,” Edith’s eyes narrowed as she seethed through her teeth. “I know what you and this piece of trash are capable of! A good man is dead because of you. All because you wanted him for yourself!” She shot the accusation directly at Addie. “And all because you wanted me and control of my money!” She shot the second towards her former advisor.

  “So what?” Addie scoffed with a haughty sneer. “What are you going to do when I burn this house to the ground with you in it?” Addie rose to her feet and walked around the table stopping only when she reached Wagner’s side. “Of course, we’ll have a copy of your will on hand, leaving everything to me,” Addie crowed triumphantly while Edith listened carefully. “And you’ll be nothing but a pile of ash. Dead and forgotten, just like you deserve.”

  “You won’t be doing anything, Addie,” Edith declared coolly just as the eight-thirty bell rang from the clock in the hall. “In fact, I would be preparing for an eternity in Hell, if I were you.” Edith sat back and casually sipped her water.

  “What do you mean by that?” Addie’s ire restoked upon hearing Edith’s warning. “Just what in the hell do you mean by that…”

  As if on cue, Addie’s words died on her tongue, cut short as her body spasmed violently. A strangled gurgle escaped her throat as her body convulsed.

  “What is going on?” Wagner jumped to his feet, intending to render aid. One step from his chair, his body lurched wildly as one of his large hands with its impossibly long fingers went to his throat. Wagner’s legs threatened to give out. His other hand shot out, frantically searching for the table’s edge for support. Failing, Edith watched reactionless as Wagner’s knees buckled and the tall man collapsed to the floor. A second thud vibrated across the way, radiating up through the soles of Edith’s shoes as Addie dropped unmoving at his side.

  “I injected strychnine into the wine,” Edith declared matter-of-factly. “One of the chemists left it behind when he had his lab set up in the wine cellar. For some reason, I never threw it out. I didn’t think it would have a use until Mrs. Sargent brought me your letter,” she added as both Randall and Addie lied prone, unable to move, helpless and convulsing as their muscles contracted non-stop. “Frankly, I’m surprised that neither of you picked upon the bitter taste when you gulped it down.” She watched their bodies shake and writhe as the compounds of the poison effectively did their job. “I just want you to know before you die that Edward is dead because of your evil scheming. I also hope that he knows that his death has been avenged. And I pray that you both suffer for what you’ve done to him, to me, and to our child.”

  Edith casually went back to her meal as Addie and Randall Wagner died upon the dining room floor. Taking her time, she reflected upon the past year and a half of her life and how it had drastically changed in so many ways. The most surprising aspect was how she’d become like the women in her novels. She was now a murderess—something that would have horrified Edward—but Edith knew that she couldn’t change the choices she’d made. The evidence of her crime laid inches from her feet, staring at the ceiling with their dull, lifeless glassy eyes. She was now a murderess, and like her characters, she had no remorse for what she’d done. Both Addie and Wagner had gotten what they deserved. They’d been brought to justice for conspiring to murder the husband of her soul and the father of her child. A justice for daring to sentence her to a life in prison. A justice that made only sweeter because she’d been the one to meter it out.

  ************

  “What on Earth?” Mrs. Sargent cried as she dropped the soup terrine she’d been carrying. The porcelain container shattered upon the mahogany floor, its contents splattering everywhere. “Oh, my God! What happened?” Her hands flew to her mouth as her eyes went round with horror.

  “They’re dead,” Edith said matter-of-factly. Mrs. Sargent eyed the recipients of Edith’s wrath before looking towards her employer. The young woman she’d watched grow from babe to insecure little girl to a young woman changed by love, now sat at the head of her table, victorious and unrepentant. “They shouldn’t have conspired against me, Mrs. Sargent,” Edith added. “This is their punishment for killing Edward and destroying my life.”

  “You killed them?” Mrs. Sargent asked weakly. Her tall, heavy form trembled from the enormity of the situation she had unknowingly stumbled upon. “HOW? WHY? Why did you do it, Miss Edith?”

  “I poisoned the wine. I killed them because of what they did to Edward, and because of what was said in the letter.”

  “Oh, Miss Edith,” Mrs. Sargent choked out a strangled sob. Edith’s long-time housekeeper sniffed as she furiously tried to process what had happened. “They’ll send you to prison!” Mrs. Sargent’s sudden flood of tears twinged the depths of Edith’s soul. It was a bittersweet emotion that made Edith momentarily regretful. She wasn’t remorseful for what she’d done, but rather, she regretted the pain she’d caused her dear confidante and friend. “What are we going to do?” The older woman sobbed into her sleeve.

  “We’ll bury them in the back garden. In the corner lot opposite the lake. Near the refuse pile beside the garden shed,” Mr. Brown said flatly, appearing suddenly. “Out by the trash barrel,” he added with a sneer. The older man stared at the dead without thought or care. “Although, if you ask me, even that is too good for the likes of them.” He spit as if his words were acid and burned his tongue.

  “What if the police come looking for them?” Mrs. Sargent whimpered. “Mr. Wagner is a well-known man. If the authorities start looking for him, the first place they’ll come asking questions is here.”

  “If anyone asks, we’ll say they ran off together in the middle of the night. I’ll tell the authorities that I saw them stealing across the garden, hand in hand, kissing like star-crossed lovers. I’ll also say that Miss Edith reported a thousand pounds was missing from her desk, and that I suspect the ‘lovebirds’ skirted away with the nice wad of Miss Edith’s money.” Mr. Brown loomed in the opposite doorway, showing no remorse for the lies he would willingly tell. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll need to fetch a few things that I’ll need to dispose of this garbage.”

  “I’ll… I’ll help you, Mr. Brown…” Mrs. Sargent staggered towards the table and collapsed upon a nearby chair opposite of where the dead lay.

  “No, Mrs. Sargent,” Mr. Brown stated emphatically. “I’ve got a strong back and a trusty wheelbarrow. They’ll be food for the worms before the moon is high overhead,” he added before he disappeared just as quickly as he arrived.

  “Miss Edith,” Hannah half-whispered with a stricken exhalation of air. “Why did you do it?”

  “They had to pay for what they did,” Edith said in way of an answer. “And now, they have, and they can never hurt me or anyone that I love again.”

  An awkward silence fell about the room as Hannah tried to avoid looking the dead lying at her feet. After several minutes, Hannah left the room but returned seconds later carrying the refuse bin and wearing leather gloves. Without hesitation, she disposed of the wine glasses, the wine bottle, and everything else that Addie and Wagner had touched. Edith saw her remove the glove and dispose of it as well as she carried the rubbish receptacle back to the kitchen.

  Edith remained in her seat until Mr. Brown appeared, pushing a wheelbarrow with a large, tan-colored tarp, and armed with an expression that let everyone know just what he thought. With a courteous, respectful, and considerate nod towards his patron, Mr. Brown set to work. As Edith watched him pick up the bodies one by one, an idea struck her. Offering her gratitude, Edith left the gardener to his business and went up to her writing room.

  The story she’d been working on lay where she left it. Taking a seat, she picked up her pen and began to write furiously. She wrote throughout the night and well into the next day without stopping. Once she’d finished The Secrets of Water, Edith sighed with resignation and put her pen down for the very last time.

/>   THIRTEEN

  “So, tell me why you two snuck over to Blackwell Farm last night?” Hazel was seated at the kitchen table when Lizzie and Sebastian walked through the doorway arm in arm, freshly showered and grinning from ear to ear.

  “What?” Sebastian attempted to laugh but Hazel hissed, killing the sound before it fully rolled off his tongue.

  “My keys, Sebastian.” Hazel’s keyring dangled from her middle finger. She gave them a shake, rattling the keys for good measure, purposely showing them that the jig was up, and they’d been caught. “They weren’t where I asked you to leave them last night. And when I went to go ask you where they were, they were the only thing that I found in your room. Care to fill me in on how they were able to walk from my purse to your nightstand? And while we’re at it, why don’t you two fill me in on all that’s happened since I went to bed last night? Neither of you looks like you got much sleep.” Hazel added as her eyes flicked over the pair of them.

  A quick glance told Hazel all that she’d wanted to know. Not only had Lizzie and Sebastian snuck out, but they’d finally stopped playing the game of denying their feelings for one another. It was clear that they had finally graduated to the next level. Hazel inhaled deeply, pleased that they’d finally come to their senses but still perturbed that she’d been deceived.

  “We snuck over,” Sebastian admitted with a relieved sigh. It was obvious that he didn’t like lying Hazel. The feeling, Hazel thought, was mutual. Taking Lizzie’s hand, he escorted her to the table, pulled out her chair, and claimed the one next to her. “We took your keys and broke into Blackwell Farm.”

  “Yes, I know. I gathered as much when I found my keys, but are you aware that that is trespassing? Not to mention and breaking and entering is illegal in England, my boy!” Hazel shot a long, admonishing finger at him as she growled with disappointment. “I expected better from you,” she said as her finger quickly locked onto Lizzie. “And I expected better of you.”