Ghostly Manners

by K. E. O'Connor

  “She is that,” I said. “And best of all, we’re friends again. She still thinks Lord Galbraith killed her, but at least we’re talking. Well, as much as I can talk with the dead.”

  “You don't actually speak to them?” asked Zach.

  “No, they never speak, we get by on gestures and looks. It can get frustrating.”

  “I bet.” Zach scratched his chin.

  “So it looks like Douglas is now in the frame,” said Helen. “There’s not a good thing about him. He drugged you, he drinks too much, he’s greedy, and he tried to blackmail Lord Galbraith. The only thing missing from that list is murder, which he most likely committed by bumping off Beatrice.”

  “It does seem likely,” I said. “He could have drugged her, too. He must have access to some pills. If Beatrice was in his way, he could have put them in her cocoa and dumped her outside to freeze to death. Or maybe the drugs he gave her were too much for her system and her heart gave out, making it look like heart failure.”

  “Cecil could have given him the drugs,” said Helen. “They are drinking buddies.”

  “I don’t think they are friends anymore,” I said. “The last time I bumped into Cecil, he’d decided to give up on Douglas. Said he wasn’t a good influence.”

  “Even more evidence that Douglas is a bad sort and harmed Beatrice,” said Helen.

  “It’s an interesting theory,” said Zach. “But Beatrice died in the summer time. Even if Douglas did drug her, there would have been no chance of her freezing to death outside. The overdose theory could fit, though.”

  “Drugs would have been spotted during Beatrice's autopsy,” said Helen.

  “Let’s see what Beatrice thinks.” I placed my half-eaten toast down. “Beatrice, are you there?”

  A few seconds later, her faint image appeared at the end of the table, and she gave me a questioning look.

  “We were discussing the likelihood of Douglas being involved in your death,” I said. “And before you protest, I know you think Lord Galbraith killed you. But Douglas is a nasty piece of work. Is there any way he could have slipped you drugs without you realising? Did you have a nightly routine Douglas knew about?”

  Beatrice frowned, but seemed to consider my question, her hands clenching and unclenching several times.

  “Can you remember Douglas giving you something to drink just before you died?” asked Helen, her gaze tracking around the room.

  Beatrice shook her head. She pointed at Zach.

  “She’s looking at you,” I said to Zach. “You don’t think Zach was involved?”

  Beatrice shook her head quickly. She pointed at Zach again.

  “Maybe she’s trying to tell you a man did it,” said Zach. “Is that right?” He glanced over at me. “I can’t believe I’m talking to a ghost.”

  “Go on,” I said. “She’s listening to you.”

  “Is that why you're pointing at me, Beatrice?” asked Zach. “Do you know for sure it was a man who harmed you?”

  Beatrice nodded and glanced shyly at Zach.

  I smiled. I could understand the effect he had on her. Even in his grubby gardening overalls, he still made me feel overly warm and wishing I'd spent more time on my hair and makeup.

  “We had put Lady Galbraith back in the frame for Beatrice’s murder. But it seems like she needs to come out again if it was definitely a man who killed Beatrice. We need to focus on Lord Galbraith, Douglas, and Cecil as the remaining suspects,” I said.

  “And let’s not waste our time protecting Douglas,” said Zach. “If he is in danger, then I think justice should be served.”

  “I must admit, I felt the same way last night,” I said. “Being drugged is not a fun experience. But he doesn’t deserve to die. Douglas does deserve to go to prison, though, especially if he harmed Beatrice.”

  “If that had happened to me, I’d have clubbed him over the head with the bottle of wine. And I'd have insisted Beatrice finish him off for me,” said Helen.

  I saw Beatrice laugh. “For all I know, that could be exactly what she did do. I’ve not seen any sign of Douglas this morning, and I hope I won’t be bothered by him ever again.”

  “Goodness, I’ve just seen the time.” Helen jumped up from her seat. “Lady Galbraith is going to skin me alive if I’m late. Catch up with you both later.”

  Helen hurried out of the kitchen, and I picked up my toast, munching on it as I discreetly studied Zach.

  “If you want me to teach Douglas a lesson, I’d be happy to,” said Zach quietly. “He shouldn’t have treated you like that. He’s so used to getting his own way, and when someone says no to him, he sees it as a challenge. You were lucky to get out unharmed.”

  I finished my toast, fed a crust to Flipper, and brushed crumbs from my fingers. “I do know that. I put myself at risk. And I’m grateful for Beatrice’s help. I won’t do it again.”

  Zach let out a sigh and a slow smile spread across his face. “I have a feeling you will, all in the name of the greater good, of course. You did what you did last night to help Beatrice. A ghost, someone nobody else can see. You’re a hero in my eyes.”

  I felt myself blush. “I’m no hero. I’m a bit of an idiot if the truth be known.”

  Zach reached a hand across the table and gently brushed my fingers with his own. “You’re not an idiot. But try to be more careful.”

  My blush increased. “I’ll do my best. I’d better get to work. Lord Galbraith will be wondering where I am.”

  ***

  I struggled to concentrate for the rest of the morning, listening to Lord Galbraith’s droning tone as he dictated several long letters about parcels of land and planning permission. I couldn’t stop thinking about Beatrice and who killed her. I could even be sitting in the room with her killer.

  I was glad for the break at lunchtime and was heading to the kitchen for a snack when I spotted Cecil in the garden.

  I dashed out the kitchen door and around the side of the house, catching Cecil as he did a circuit of the fountain. Maybe he would answer the question I had about where Douglas got his sleep inducing pills from.

  “It’s a lovely fountain,” I said to him.

  “Yes, I find the sound of trickling water soothing,” said Cecil.

  I tried to look as bashful as possible. “I wonder if you might be able to assist me with a delicate matter.”

  “Do you have a health problem?” The concern on Cecil’s face was clear. “I would be happy to see you at the surgery.”

  “No, I’m quite well, except for these terrible headaches and inability to sleep at night.”

  “Insomnia,” said Cecil. “It’s surprisingly common these days. I think it comes from so many hours spent online, using computer screens and smart phones. It makes the eyes tired and stresses the brain without us realising. Our ancestors didn’t have access to such technology. We haven’t evolved to catch up with it all.”

  “Quite right,” I said. “Would you give me something to take the edge off? Lord Galbraith will fire me if I make too many mistakes on his letters.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Cecil glanced around the garden and fidgeted with his jacket collar.

  “Well, I was speaking with Douglas the other night, and he said you sometimes give him pills.”

  “He is mistaken.” Cecil blinked rapidly. “Douglas isn’t a patient of mine.”

  “He didn’t say he was a patient. He said you gave him some pills to help him sleep at night. I wondered if you might give me the same thing. I only need a few until I get back into a regular sleep pattern.”

  “That’s not ethical, giving out pills to anyone who asks.” Cecil fussed with the cuffs of his white shirt. “You might have an allergic reaction to the medication. I could get into trouble.”

  “If I do, I won’t say where I got them from,” I said. “But I’m not allergic to anything, so it won’t be a problem.”

  “I’d better have a word with Douglas about this. Don’t want him spreading lies abou
t me.” Cecil pushed his round glasses up his nose. “I’m a good doctor; he is trying to sully my reputation by the sounds of it.”

  “I don’t think he is. Douglas was trying to help me. I told him about the trouble I was having sleeping, and he thought you might assist.”

  “Seems to me like all the wine he’s been drinking has addled his brain. I never gave him any pills. He most likely purchased his sleeping pills in the chemist and forgot where he got them from.”

  “So you can’t help me with my little problem?” I batted my eyelashes at Cecil.

  A gentle blush spread across Cecil's cheeks. “I wish I could. I do hate to think of you in discomfort, but it would be better if you see your own doctor. Or if you want to, you can register as one of my patients and make an appointment to see me.”

  I believed what Cecil was saying. He’d sounded surprised when I’d asked for some pills. Maybe he hadn’t given Douglas any drugs to knock Beatrice out. It was quite possible Douglas stole the pills from Cecil’s bag without him knowing about it. I’d seen Cecil’s doctor’s bag sitting on various sofas in the house. It wouldn’t have taken Douglas long to sneak it open and snatch what he needed.

  “Well, there was no harm in asking. I’ll have to manage as I am for now. Maybe if I can get a good night’s sleep, it will make me feel better, and I won’t need anything.”

  “Yes, try that first,” said Cecil. “I find some warm milk and a lettuce sandwich always does the job for me when I can’t sleep.”

  “A lettuce sandwich?”

  “Yes, when you eat lettuce, it releases a compound into your system that acts as a natural sedative. Nature is quite marvellous.”

  “I’ll have to try that sometime.” I said goodbye to Cecil and returned to the house. He was clueless but sweet. I would have to look elsewhere if I wanted to find out what may have been used to drug Beatrice.

  ***

  Another long day of dictation and filing came to an end, and it was almost eight o’clock by the time I left Lord Galbraith’s study. I wandered to the kitchen with Flipper, unable to ignore the frustration I felt at not making any progress with finding Beatrice’s killer.

  On the kitchen counter was a delicious looking Victoria sponge cake, icing sugar dusted over the fluffy looking layers of cake, jam peeking out from the middle. It must have been left by the catering company.

  It was just what I needed, and I cut myself a generous slice and sat at the table with a mug of tea, occasionally breaking off tiny pieces of cake for Flipper to eat. As I fed him, my mind drifted back to the poor dogs stuck in the kennels in the grounds. I hadn’t had an opportunity to walk them yet. But the least I could do was make sure they were fed properly.

  Once I’d finished my cake, I sorted through the cupboards and found a few tins of stewing steak and vegetables. I mixed everything in a large bowl, Flipper looking on with interest, and carried the bowl out to the dog kennels.

  As I approached, I heard the dogs grumbling and snuffling in the darkness. Silence fell as I approached, their eyes glinting in the gloom as I reached the kennels. “There’s nothing to worry about. I thought you might like a snack.”

  There were several empty bowls lined up outside the kennels, so I tipped the contents of my own bowl into them and pushed them through the small serving holes in the bottom of the wire fence.

  The dogs sniffed the air, muzzles raised, then dashed to the bowls and started gobbling the food.

  “You poor things. You need more food. I’ll ask Zach to get more supplies for you.”

  I watched the little black dog in the kennel on her own. She was slower than the others and kept glancing at me nervously, tail between her legs. “Eat up. You’re safe with me.”

  Flipper whined and paced in a circle a couple of times.

  “Is Beatrice coming?” I asked him.

  Flipper raised his head and stared into the darkness.

  A few seconds later, Beatrice’s ghostly image appeared by the kennels.

  “Is that one yours?” I pointed to the nervous black dog.

  Beatrice nodded, a sad look in her eyes as she gazed at the dogs.

  “It isn't fair they’re locked in here,” I said. “I did ask Lady Galbraith if she would take them inside, but she wasn’t interested in helping.”

  I saw Beatrice’s shoulders sag, and her ghostly fingers trailed through the wire of the kennels.

  “I’ll make sure they get a good home and are set free.”

  Beatrice nodded, her focus on the lone black dog.

  “Do they have dogs where you are?”

  Beatrice ignored my question and kept staring at the dog.

  “I bet she misses you, too,” I said.

  Beatrice nodded, her eyes misting with tears.

  “And it won't be just the dogs I'll set free,” I said. “I’ll make sure you get to be free, too. It’s time to find out what really happened to you.”

  Chapter 19

  It felt like I was on board a ship, my stomach flipping over and my ears ringing. I opened my eyes to find my bed being roughly shaken and Beatrice looming over me.

  “You have to stop bothering me when I’m asleep.” I yanked the covers over my head. The shaking got worse, and despite pretending I wasn’t there, Beatrice wouldn’t go away.

  “What’s the matter?” I sat up in a rush, making my head spin. Flipper jumped on the bed and licked my face.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I said to him. “Now, please chase away Beatrice for me.”

  Flipper kept licking my face and ignored my command.

  Beatrice beckoned for me to follow her.

  “There had better be a fire or a rabid bear about to attack, waking me up like that,” I muttered. “Don’t make a habit of this, or we’ll fall out again.”

  She frowned and gestured at me again before pointing to the door of the bedroom.

  “Give me a minute. I can’t go downstairs in my night dress.” I clambered out of bed, grabbed yesterday’s clothes, ran my hands through my hair, and hurried out of the bedroom with Flipper, Beatrice leading the way.

  As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard raised voices from below.

  Helen hurried along the corridor, her eyes wide, still in her pyjamas. “I think I got woken up by Beatrice. She plunged my room to freezing temperatures and pulled the covers off me.”

  “You’re the lucky one,” I said. “She shook my mattress so hard I was almost sick.”

  “What’s going on?” Helen peered over the banister to the ground floor.

  We both watched in silence as two police officers walked along the hallway and into Lord Galbraith’s study. A few moments later, Douglas emerged, the police officers either side of him and Lord Galbraith tailing them, his arms folded and a stern expression on his face.

  I ran down the stairs with Helen and Flipper behind me and followed after them. “Lord Galbraith, what’s happening?”

  “Miss Shadow, I wish you hadn’t seen this.” Lord Galbraith turned to me. “It appears Douglas is implicated in a crime. Well, two crimes, actually.”

  “What’s he done?” I peered out the front door as Douglas was placed in the back of a police car.

  “This is all rather embarrassing, and you must keep the information I am about to tell you to yourself,” said Lord Galbraith.

  “Of course. I won’t breathe a word of what’s happening to anyone.”

  “Neither will I,” said Helen.

  Lord Galbraith let out a sigh. “It would seem Douglas has become desperate for money. He was found with a large quantity in his room. The exact amount I keep in my safe.”

  “Douglas has been stealing from you?” I knew from the argument I'd overheard him have with Lord Galbraith that he was in need of some money, but this was such a blatant act.

  “That’s not the worst of it. When the police were called in, they searched his room for any other items he may have taken. They found a large stash of unlicensed prescription medication in one of the cab
inets in his bedroom.”

  “Douglas is a drug addict?” asked Helen.

  “The police don’t believe they are for his own personal use. But they do think he may have been selling them to make some extra money,” said Lord Galbraith.

  “Where did he get them from?” I asked.

  “That is a question the police need to answer.” Lord Galbraith’s expression was sad as the police car pulled away from the house. “What is most worrying me, is that there were also a number of items of Beatrice’s in his possession, next to the medication.”

  “Douglas was stealing from your sister as well?” I asked. “Why would he keep things he had stolen for such a long time?”

  “He may not have kept them for a long time.” Lord Galbraith shut the front door. “Douglas may have spotted them when he began clearing Beatrice’s room and decided he could make some money from them.”

  “That’s a possibility,” I said, more to myself than Lord Galbraith. “He was in the room at the same time as us. Maybe he spotted some items he liked the look of then.”

  Lord Galbraith shook his head sadly. “It is such a shame. Douglas had the potential to be a great man, but he squandered his money and ambitions on alcohol and women. And now, he has nothing. And he may well receive a custodial sentence. This is not the first time Douglas has had an encounter with the police.”

  “Sylvester, perhaps you shouldn’t share all of our family secrets with the hired help.” Lady Galbraith stood at the top of the stairs, her arms folded over her narrow chest as she glared down at us.

  “My dear, they need to know the kind of people they are working for,” said Lord Galbraith. “They might change their minds and decide they no longer wish to work in a house of such ill-gotten gains.”

  “We are not associated with Douglas’s wrong doings.” Lady Galbraith descended the stairs. “He has gotten exactly what he deserves. I imagine he assumed, because he is a family member, we would not report him to the police.”

  “We didn’t, my dear,” said Lord Galbraith. “You did. I would have been content to deal with it ourselves.”

  “He must know he cannot manipulate us,” said Lady Galbraith. “Now, enough of this talk. I am sure we all have plenty to keep us busy today. And Miss Holliday, you might like to change your outfit before you attend to me.”