THE GHOST DANCED THE NUTCRACKER
(A Ghost Haven Mystery)
Kristine Frost
Copyright December 2019 by Kristine Frost
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Special Thanks to my husband, Jack and my children for putting up with an author’s ditsy ways.
Cast of Characters
Main Characters
Tabitha Black—award winning painter, Courtney’s cousin
Courtney Spencer—Owner of Ghost Haven Manor
Debbie Evans—Courtney’s partner
Mark Brown—barrister—Courtney’s boyfriend
Peter Dawes—solicitor—Debbie’s fiancé
Lady Brittanie Ashby—Charles London’s mother
Ghost Haven crew
Hargraves—butler
Charley—footman
Mrs. Mere—cook
Leland Cabot: Financial wizard, patron of the arts, owner of the Cabot International Ballet
Liu Cabot: Leland’s third wife
Chief Detective Inspector London’s team
Chief Detective Inspector London
Detective Sergeant Edward Tolliver
Forensics expert Georgette Walsh
Detective Constable Farmer
Detective Constable Deacon
Chief Detective Inspector Parker’s team
Chief Detective Inspector James Richard Parker
Scene of the Crime expert: Jeff Wilson
Detective Constable Zufelt
Prima Ballerinas
Danielle Rousseau
Jessica Duval
Claudia Mercier
Raelynn Renell
Babette Esmay
Candita Chevalier
Francoise Fabre
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1—Ghost Haven Manor
Chapter 2—Ghost Haven
Chapter 3—Ghost Haven Manor—Picture Gallery
Chapter 4—Ghost Haven
Chapter 5—London—6 months later
Chapter 6—Police Headquarters
Chapter 7—Scotland Yard headquarters—that same night
Chapter 8—Police Headquarters
Chapter 9—Police Headquarters
Chapter 10—Tabitha’s Flat
Chapter 11—Marylebone Theatre
Chapter 12 St. Marylebone Theatre
Chapter 13—Tabitha’s Flat
Chapter 14—Dorchester Restaurant—London—the next day
Chapter 15—Tabitha’s Flat—three days later
Chapter 16—London, Leland Cabot’s home
Chapter 17—Cabot’s home
Chapter 18—London
Chapter 19—Tabitha’s flat
Chapter 20—Jess Duval’s apartment--that same morning
Chapter 21—Scotland Yard—London’s office
Chapter 22—Tabitha’s flat
Chapter 23—Scotland Yard
Chapter 24—Tabitha’s Flat
Chapter 25—Tabitha’s Flat
Chapter 26—Tabitha’s flat that night
Chapter 27—Scotland Yard
Chapter 28—The Morgue
Chapter 29—Tabitha’s flat
Chapter 30—Tabitha’s flat
Chapter 31—Tabitha’s Flat
Chapter 32--Cinitias
Chapter 33—Tabitha’s Flat
Chapter 34—The Escape
Chapter 35—Ghost Haven
Chapter 36—Ghost Haven
Chapter 37—Ghost Haven foyer
Chapter 38—Ghost Haven
Epilogue
Chapter 1—Ghost Haven Manor
Suppressing the itchy-twitchy feeling she had been fighting for weeks, Tabitha Black handed her forest-green raincoat and matching umbrella to the butler. "Hargraves, how are you?"
"Very well, Miss Tabitha. Since you and Mr. Mark captured the murderer that stalked these halls, events here have been very calm."
Tabitha looked around the large, irregularly octagonal entrance hall. The dingy oak paneling, grubby carpet, and dust ridden drapes that Tabitha remembered from her earlier visit had disappeared. The oak paneling had been cleaned and polished to a pale, silver sheen. The carpet that made Tabitha think of cockroaches and silverfish had been taken up revealing a gorgeous oak floor that matched the paneling. The ceiling carvings no longer were covered with the grey dust that made the flowers and cupids look fuzzy and indistinct. Pale blue hangings covered the tall windows and a deep blue Axminister carpet covered the wood floor. All the furniture glowed with polish.
The room was so beautiful, so calm, so elegant that she could feel much of her stress and tension begin to leak away.
"Incredible” She turned to Hargraves. “Hargraves, it's hard to believe that this elegant room looked eerie and haunted and disgusting the first time I saw it."
"Miss Courtney and Miss Debbie have really worked to get the house ready for the grand opening." Hargraves, tall, portly, and grey-haired puffed out his chest, giving her a huge smile. "We've all worked hard."
“It doesn’t look like a resort hotel.” Forcing her hands to relax, Tabitha peeked into the red drawing room. She gasped, her eyes widening. “It looks more like a country house.”
“That’s the look we were striving for.”
"Tabitha, darling, you're here early." Courtney Spencer came running down the wide curved stairs at the back of the hall. "I didn't expect you for another hour."
Her deep auburn hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. She was wearing ratty grey sweats that had been washed about a dozen times too many. Her feet were stuck in running shoes that should have run to the dump and died there.
Courtney hugged her best friend. "I like that grey tweed. Is that the latest style?"
"The very latest. Mrs. Gilbert won't let me buy anything that isn't up to the mark.
The last outfit I bought that she didn't like simply disappeared." Tabitha pirouetted. "She even got a friend of hers who's a beautician give me a new cut. Do you like it?"
Tabitha’s hair was a chin length bob with side bangs that tucked behind her ears. It looked free and easy to care for. And for once, there was no paint clinging to Tabitha’s inky locks.
"You look mahvelous, simply mahvelous, dahling.” She mimicked a heavy, southern accent. “I am so jealous. I feel like a frump.” She looked down at her sweats. “I know I look like one.”
Stepping back, Tabitha looked at her friend. She noticed with satisfaction that Courtney's auburn hair glowed with health, her green eyes sparkled and she had lost that pasty, greenish-grey skin tone she'd had the last time Tabitha had seen her, a few months earlier, when she had been recovering from the accident that had killed her father and hospitalized her.
"Grey is not your color, but then, as a mannequin, you should know that."
"Grey hides the dirt. We're still trying to get ready for our grand opening." She hugged Tabitha again.
"How in the world did you ever manage to get away so early. I thought it would be midnight or later before you showed up. Your traveling on those horribly wet roads had both Debbie and me worried sick.
Tabitha laugh was sardonic. “The show was going so well that I just told Mrs. Gilbert I knew she could handle everything. She wasn't happy that I wouldn't be there to explain my art but so what? If the customer couldn't figure out what I'd done in a painting, too bad. Besides, I didn't really want to drive down in the dark. The pouring rain helped me make the decision."
Courtney looked at her best friend, "That’s a nice
lie but I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't leave until the last light switch was turned off and Mrs. Gilbert put the closed sign on the door. So what really happened?”
"Well, I didn't want to drive in the dark or in the rain--that part is true."
Courtney shook her head like she didn’t believe a word Tabitha was saying. "You’re still not telling me the whole truth."
"To tell you the whole truth, I don't actually know." She walked over to arrange the folds of the blue drapes, her nimble fingers smoothing the silver fringe.
She turned toward Courtney, her eyes looking troubled. “I know I get unbearable just before the opening of one of my shows but this is different. I feel like ants are racing up and down my nerves, then when they get tired of that they start fighting with the cockroaches tapdancing on my spine."
Pacing, Tabitha straightened a bowl of fresh flowers that weren't exactly in the center of the table. "I just feel like something bad is going to happen. I thought maybe it was just opening night nerves although it’s gone on far longer than opening night."
Her hands were twisting together, the knuckles white, her nails a faint blue, but shedidn’t seem to notice. "Mrs. Gilbert thought that getting away from London and the gallery and all the demands of the customers would get rid of the feeling but so far it hasn't helped."
"Since you've been here a whole--" Courtney looked at her gold wristwatch, "Six minutes, I can't understand why you aren't perfectly relaxed."
Tabitha turned and pretended to glare at her friend. "Okay, okay. I realize I can't expect to get over this feeling in five minutes. I just hope I get over it, or whatever is causing it rises to the surface of my mind. I've even lost my appetite." She forced a laugh. “And that’s dangerous, especially for me.”
She moved toward the huge stone fireplace where a fire was briskly burning.
“This is heavenly.” She held her hands out to the blaze. “And comforting.”
"Heaven forbid you losing your appetite-especially since Mrs. Mere bought out the village store when she heard you were coming."
"That's not alarming since the village store is the size of a large bathroom." Tabitha walked from the fireplace to the window where she pushed back the drapes, then she walked back to the fireplace.
Tabitha knelt by the fireplace, running her fingers around the fruit that were carved into the paneling. “Do you remember how you felt when I talked you into coming here for the reading of your uncle—I mean Sir Richard’s will?”
Courtney nodded. “It was horrible. That feeling that the world was going to come crashing down on my head—I’m glad it’s over now.”
“That’s the way I feel now. At the time, I didn’t have a clue what you were going through.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but the sadness did. “Now I do and I wish I didn’t.”
She got to her feet, walking from the fireplace to the staircase and back.
"Will you quit pacing. You're going to have me as nervous as you are and I'm already nervous enough over the open house."
Tabitha smiled ruefully. "Sorry, I just can't stay still."
Changing the subject, Courtney asked, "How did your haunted pictures do?"
'They all sold. I'm not sure whether the paintings went so quickly because of their content or because of our involvement in those murders but whatever the reason, they all sold the first night." Tabitha laughed. "We marked them up a lot. They were nearly triple what I generally sell my scenes for."
"Great. Hey, come look at the rest of the house." Courtney grabbed Tabitha's hand and began pulling her toward one of the open double doors that led into the library.
Tabitha looked around the library. "Courtney, this room looks really fantastic. I like the new colors. The deep reds and dark greys are very attractive with that pale grey paneling. Did you ever find out what kind of wood it is?"
"No. One of the appraisers said he thought it was a type of birch that had been stained grey but that doesn't sound very romantic."
"Romantic or not, I wouldn't know it for the same house but satisfy my curiosity, what did you do about the secret passageways? You didn't take them out, did you?"
"Heavens no. That's what gives the house its character.
The library door opened. Someone entered, hidden by a huge pile of pillows.
"Courtney, I just finished putting away the last of the new towels. I'll put these pillows in the linen closet. Then is there anything else I need to do before I go get cleaned up?"
"Well, you might say 'hi' to Tabitha."
"Tabitha." Debbie squealed, dropping the pillows and hurtling across the room to hug her. "How's the great and successful painter from the bustling metropolis of London?"
"Talented, rich and successful! What else?” Tabitha pushed her tongue against
her cheek.
"How do you like everything?"
"You look pretty good considering you're wearing sweats, too."
"You don't like our matching outfits?" Debbie pretended to pout.
Tabitha held up her hands in an open-ended square. "Well, in this painter's opinion, Courtney doesn't look good in grey. A beige or a brown or a green would be better with her avocado green eyes and auburn hair. I'm afraid that, that shade of grey absolutely washes you out. I think tan or an avocado green would look better with your bronze hair and hazel eyes.
"Gee, thanks, oh great one." Courtney bowed low, her hand moving in a barrel motion. Debbie giggled. "I meant what do you think of the house?"
"I've only seen two rooms but I'm very impressed."
"Come on, Courtney, let's show her the rest of the house."
Courtney smiled, "In a minute. Let me answer her question about the secret passages. Since the newspapers played up secret passageways so much we decided to capitalize on all that free publicity about the house, Uncle Richard's peculiarities and the murders."
Debbie nodded. "We put locks on the passageway entrances but the keys are in by the lock. We are charging more for the rooms that give the passageways. If a guest wants to roam the passageways they can rent one of those rooms. We provide a candle and matches."
"Weird." Tabitha commented.
"Maybe so, but we're booked solid for the next six months. We figure that we'll pay back our investment in less than that time. Mr. Harris is very happy." Courtney stuck her tongue in her cheek and crossed her eyes.
“That's great."
"We even used haunted names for some of the items on the menu. A guest can have spider web dessert or curried bat wings."
"What is spider web dessert?" Tabitha made a face. "It sounds awful."
"It's a type of mousse covered with spun sugar webs and a licorice spider. The curried bat wings are chicken breasts cut into triangles and covered with a curry sauce. They are both really good. Mrs. Mere has them planned for tonight since you gave them their names."
"No, I didn't. No one ever asked me to name items on your menu."
Courtney’s grin nearly split her face. She giggled. "Don't you remember the first night we were came here--when we met all the rest of our relatives? You told Mark and Peter you thought we might be having spider web soup and curried bat wings?"
Tabitha laughed, "Yes, I do remember that now. Do you remember how the toilet in our bathroom tried to eat me?"
Both Courtney and Debbie burst out laughing. "You looked awfully funny with damp hair and running mascara."
Tabitha retorted. "That’s something I won’t ever forget. It scared the dumb fudgin’s out of me. If I hadn’t jumped so high, it would have drowned me. But just out of curiosity, did you leave those awful maroon toilets in the bathrooms?"
“Yes. All those toilets are in rooms that enter the hidden passageway. We figured that they added atmosphere. We did put a sign up warning that they were haunted and to be careful."
"Besides that," Debbie continued, "The way they were plumbed in, it would have cost us a fortune to tear them out. Three-fourths of the plumbing would have to be redone, as well a
s the walls and flooring. It was cheaper to leave them."
"As long as you don't lose an unwary guest or two down one of them--"
"You guys talk too much." Debbie grabbed Tabitha’s hand. "I want Tabitha to see the rest of the house. To use her very most favorite word, it's absolutely incredible."
********
As they sat down to dinner in the formal dining room, Tabitha couldn't help contrast the way the room looked now with the way it had looked the first time she had eaten at Mathews Manor.
The house hadn't been wired with electricity on their first visit so the rooms were dark and grungy.
The linen tablecloth hadn’t been ironed. There was a huge Epigere that ran from one end of the table to the other. It was a gift to the Payne’s who had originally owned the house. It depicted a tiger hunt in India. The pieces were covered in tarnish. The jeweled eyes were heavy with dust.
Mrs. Mere, the housekeeper, had worked for Richard Mathews so long that she didn't believe in using up wood or coal for the guests so the rooms had been a deep, bone chilling cold. The candles hid the dirt and mold.
Tabitha looked up at the picture over the sideboard. "That isn't the same picture that was hanging there the first time we were here, is it?"
"Heavens no. The original picture, I'm sure you'll remember, was a very realistic painting of a deer dying from an arrow in its side."
"I do remember. I hated that picture."
"Me too. I gave it to Jonathan Mathews as soon as probate was over. I found this picture up in the attic. It's a picture of the original Paine gazebo. Since the gazebo no longer exists, I looked up its history in that old book in the library. It used to stand on the cliff so the ladies of the family could watch for the family coaches that would pass by on the way to Bristol harbor."
She motioned to the picture. "I like the design so much that I've been thinking of rebuilding it. I think my guests might like to have a place to sit that looks out over the heather."
"Would you copy the actual design?" Tabitha got up to look closely at the painting. “It is an incredible design—all that gingerbread. It would cost the earth.
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