by Haley Harper
“Well I think I’ll start walking back. Don’t want to be late for dinner,” she said with forced levity. “I hear that fish and chips are on the menu. Will you be joining us for dinner?” Professor Jordon thought for a moment.
“Wouldn’t want to miss that!” he said with a tiny bit of sarcasm. “Yes I think maybe I will join you and the others tonight. With all that’s been going on, my plans for solitude have been blown apart anyway. Have the police definitely ruled it an accident?”
“I believe so,” Shannon said. She was not going to let him know that she thought otherwise.
“How unfortunate,” he said. Shannon detected no genuine emotion in his voice. Maybe he is just not a very compassionate person she thought. Throughout the walk the solemn professor chatted a bit about his work and his reasons for choosing the mansion as a place to get away from it all. When Shannon asked him if there was a Mrs. Jordon, he looked at her blankly for a second, and then as if remembering something, he replied that there was not. Shannon found his attitude very distracted as though something else was always on his mind and he was attempting to carry on a conversation through the muddle of his thoughts. At one point in the conversation he mentioned a favorite restaurant near his home in Cleveland. Shannon turned quickly towards him. It didn’t appear that he was going to correct himself. She was certain he had said that morning that he was from a small town in northern Michigan. Interesting, she thought. She quickly looked down and away while he was talking, not wanting her suspicion to show. It was then that she noticed the wedding ring on his left hand. There was definitely something going on with the mysterious professor Jordon. They arrived back at the mansion just in time for dinner. Shannon excused herself from Larry’s company and quickly stopped by her room to freshen up.
Chapter 10
After another extravagant meal of rich English cuisine, Shannon retired to her room with the very best of intentions to work. The events of the day however, had her mind racing and she knew there would be no work done tonight. Instead she sat and jotted down a few notes about the things she had learned.
First, she had eliminated everyone as suspects except Professor Larry Jordon and the fourth maid that she had yet to identify. Next, she made notes about what this woman looked like, where and when she had seen her and any possible ideas to account for her appearance. The two notes she made about Larry Jordon were the discrepancy between where he was from and the fact that he wore a wedding ring when he said there was no Mrs. Jordon. Beside those comments she also wrote “just generally very creepy.” Once she was finished her notes Shannon indulged in a long hot tub full of bubbles. She sipped a glass of fine red wine while she soaked in hopes that it would help her get drowsy enough to sleep. It was a cool night, and as she crawled under the fluffy duvet, she realized she hadn’t called Mitch, and also that she didn’t really want to. Instead she fell into an uneasy slumber plagued with images of ghosts and creepy men and Melissa’s pretty face.
Eventually she climbed back out of bed and walked to her window. Gazing out at the moonlit countryside, she couldn’t help but agree that the English weather with all the fog and mist did nothing to dispel one’s doubts about ghosts. All in all, the country itself was steeped in a kind of mysterious cloud. A sudden movement out on the road made Shannon’s breath catch in her throat. Through the soft night drizzle she could swear she had seen a man on a huge black horse riding down the road. Curiosity overcame fear and she quickly threw a rain slicker over her pajamas and slipped her feet into the rain boots she had wisely packed. She had no idea what time it was, but the mansion was completely dark and silent. She crept quietly down the stairs, unlatched the dead bolt of the kitchen door and slid outside. She ran through the slippery grass to the edge of the road hoping in hindsight that no one woke up at the mansion and relocked the kitchen door.
The rain was falling heavier now, making it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of her. She stopped at the edge of the road where the lane ended and strained to see through the rain. Peering up and down the road, she saw nothing. No man, no horse, just trees and bushes and the dark outline of buildings. Soaking wet, and thoroughly awake, she slipped back in through the kitchen door and back to her room. She tossed and turned until she saw the sky start to lighten outside. She rose then, showered and dressed and worked at her computer trying to turn her jumble of notes into something that made sense. Eventually she packed it in and headed down to the dining room. Her meeting with Maureen wasn’t until 11 but she wanted to find Frederick and confirm that he was still available to give her a ride. The trip into town was only about twenty minutes so she would have a bit of time to enjoy her coffee and watch the activities of the guests and staff. She was really hoping that she might get to talk further with Larry Jordon, or perhaps get a chance to ask a few questions of the fourth maid that she had seen but who apparently didn’t exist.
Frederick was coming towards her as she walked down the hall and he slowed his pace to greet her. “Good morning, miss” he said with a polite nod. “I haven’t forgotten our appointment. I shall have the car waiting at the front door at half past ten if that suits you.”
“That will be great. Thank you.” With another slight nod, he hurried on his way. Shannon smiled as he retreated. He was such a perfect English gentleman. Just like something out of a movie, she thought. With a cup of coffee and some fresh baked scones and jelly, she retreated to the dining room patio to indulge and observe. Most of the guests were seated at the big wooden table. The professor Jordon and the couple from London were absent. He was no doubt back to enjoying the solitude of his room, and the young couple had had to return home to their children. Shannon watched as the three day maids bustled about seeing to the needs of the guests. There was no sign of the fourth maid anywhere. A few minutes before ten thirty Shannon made her way to the front gates. As promised, Frederick was waiting with the company car. It was a dark green BMW with all the bells and whistles. It was by far the most luxurious car Shannon had ever been in. After commenting to Frederick on its beauty, she started right in on the questions she had made note of the night before.
“So you’ve worked at the mansion since it reopened six years ago?”
“I have indeed,” Frederick responded proudly.
“So you must have been around for the other fatal accident that took place?”
Frederick nodded again. “I was working that very night,” he said slowly. “But I’m not at all sure it was really an accident.”
“Oh really? “Why is that?”
“Well, you see, I was at the top of the stairs that night before the lady fell. I was coming out of my room when I heard her scream. As I rushed to help her, I was sure I saw a woman hurry away from the top of the stairs. I have always believed that she was in some way involved in the tragedy.”
“Did the police ever find her and question her?”
“No,” Frederick said frowning. “That was the strange part. No one else had ever seen this woman about. She wasn’t anyone employed by the mansion and she wasn’t one of the guests registered at that time. No one could find her to question her. It was finally ruled an unfortunate accident and everyone said it must have been the lights and the shadows in the hall playing tricks on me. There had been a terrible storm that night and the electricity was out for a time. The mansion was being lit only by candlelight. And Mrs. Pritchard of course, insisted it was our infamous resident ghost. But I would swear to this day that there had been a woman fleeing the scene.”
“Do you remember what she looked like?” Shannon asked, trying not to sound too excited.
“I do, but like everyone said, it was dark and the candles were casting many shadows about. I can only say for certain that her stature was very small and as she hurried away I could see that she had long dark hair.”
Shannon thought immediately of the fourth maid that she had seen . She too was slight and had long dark hair. She couldn’t help but wonder if they were one and the same. And a
little voice tried to insist that maybe, just maybe both women were the ghost of the wicked Lady Caldwell. Shannon didn’t let herself dwell on the prospect. It was no ghost that lured Melissa to the turret and ultimately to her death. There was a real life person out there somewhere who was responsible and they needed to pay for their crime. Shannon thanked Frederick for sharing his story, and arranged for him to meet her again in a couple of hours. Shannon gave him a little wave as she headed into the café. Now if she could get Maureen to agree to come out to the mansion and have a look around, maybe she would start making some progress towards solving the mystery of Melissa’s death.
Maureen was already in the café seated at a small glass top table overlooking the river. She smiled broadly when she spotted Shannon and waved her over. There was certainly nothing quiet or reserved about Maureen, but she was easy to like. Shannon greeted her warmly and they engaged in some small talk while they ordered tea and biscuits.
“So, if it’s not a tour of the city you’re looking for, then how can I be of service?”
Shannon pulled Maureen’s card from her purse. “This,” she said laying the card on the table, “says you’re a psychic investigator.”
Maureen nodded. “It does, and I am.”
“I thought you were a writer and editor.”
“I am that too,” Maureen laughed. “One calling is my passion; the other is my bread and butter. There isn’t a lot of money to be made as a psychic investigator. Most of the time people don’t even want to speak to me, but occasionally when a case is hard to solve, the locals will consult with me. I’ve managed to gain the trust and support of a few on the police force.”
“Would detective Monroe be one of those few?” Shannon asked raising an eyebrow.
Maureen smiled.” It’s that obvious is it? Yes, Jake has called me in on a few cases. And yes, we are seeing each other socially.” Shannon smiled.
“I thought so. I’m usually a pretty good judge of these things.”
“Maybe you’re a bit psychic too,” Maureen teased. Shannon laughed outright.
“No I don’t think so. But I am very intuitive and my instincts about people and things are generally pretty good. And that’s exactly why I need your help.”
“I’m listening.”
Shannon continued. “I assume you’ve heard about the accident at the mansion?” Maureen nodded but didn’t interrupt. “So you probably also know that the police have ruled it an accident. I have reason to believe that it was not an accident at all, but that Melissa was in fact murdered.” She went on to explain Melissa’s very real fear of heights and her certainty that Melissa would never have climbed that turret of her own free will.
“So you’re saying that someone forced her to climb the turret and then pushed her out?”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
“That’s a pretty serious accusation. But there wasn’t anyone found at the mansion that would have had motive. Jake said they questioned everyone. What makes you so sure they are wrong? Is there someone specific you suspect?”
“There are two people that I can’t cross off the list,” Shannon told her. Then she explained about the mysterious fourth maid and the inconsistent facts and the creepy nature of the reclusive Larry Jordon.
“Well, you can’t accuse someone of murder just because they’re creepy, you know,” Maureen offered, trying to lighten the mood a little.
“No, I’m serious,” Shannon insisted. “And like I said, my instincts about people are usually pretty good.”
Maureen leaned forward in her seat. “Ok, so you have my attention. How do you think I can help?”
“I don’t know really.” I was hoping you would come out to the mansion, have a look around, talk to Larry Jordon and maybe see if you get some kind of a read on this fourth elusive maid that Mrs. Chadwick insists doesn’t exist.”
Maureen smiled. “What you really want is a ghost buster. You want me to confirm or disprove that there is a ghost at work in the big beautiful Buldrew mansion killing off pretty ladies that she doesn’t like.”
Shannon shrugged. “Something like that,” she said sheepishly.
“Well. I’m all in,” Maureen announced. “I’ll be out there with bells on first thing in the morning. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see if the old place speaks to me at all. Now, I want to hear all about this new book that you’re writing.”
Chapter 11
Shannon was a bit more optimistic about her crime solving mission now that she would have Maureen’s help. If nothing else, it would help her put to rest the ghost theories that so many people were beginning to believe. Shannon also knew that Maureen would be able to bend Jake’s ear if she did get a read that there was more to Melissa’s death than a tragic accident. Shannon wasn’t any more certain of her beliefs in psychics than she was of ghosts, but Maureen seemed far too intelligent and grounded to be telling anything but the truth. It was important to keep an open mind about these things, and as a researcher and writer, Shannon was willing to do that. She spent the rest of the afternoon shut away in her room writing. As much as she wanted to devote all of her time to solving this mystery, she knew her editor would not be happy if she missed her deadline. Ghost or no ghost, murder or no murder, her book about the most infamous ghosts was scheduled to release before Halloween, and if she didn’t get herself in gear, she knew she would have to kiss her book contract goodbye. Besides, there was a masquerade ball scheduled for that evening at the mansion and she didn’t want to miss it. She had stopped at a consignment shop in town after her meeting with Maureen and purchased a few items that she could combine to create a decent costume. A big blonde wig and an old formal gown complete with plenty of beads and lacey sleeves would turn her into a respectable image of Marie Antoinette. It would be nice to enjoy an evening of fun after all the drama of the past few days. The mansion was the perfect setting for such an event and Shannon was looking forward to it. She only wished that Melissa could have been there to attend it with her.
The dinner gong rang precisely at six and costumed guest and staff were to gather in the dining room for cocktails. Dinner itself was going to be served in the ballroom where tables had been arranged at one end. This way the guests could enjoy the music of the band during dinner before the dancing began. Shannon was pleased to see the remaining guests all in attendance, even professor Jordon. He had come disguised as Zorro. If she hadn’t been so creeped out about him, she would have had to agree he made a very handsome hero. Among the remaining guests there was a very distinguished looking Winston Churchill, an amazing Count Dracula and Bethany Campbell, the Canadian visitor came in full hockey attire representing her country’s national sport. The rest of the guests had come in from town and Shannon didn’t know any of them.
Dinner was once again an extravaganza of British delights. Shannon didn’t think she’d ever be able to look at her typical American diet in the same way. Somehow the hamburgers, fries and pizza that were the mainstay of her diet seemed horribly bland and uninteresting. As she enjoyed the fine food and the excellent music, Shannon kept a watchful eye on the perimeter of the room wondering if a certain dark haired maid might make an appearance. Larry Jordon, although also a suspect at the top of her list seemed to be acting quite jovial. Shannon wondered what had happened to make him suddenly want to be so sociable. Instead of decreasing her suspicions of him, it made them all the stronger. It’s just too much of a change in personality, she thought. Something is definitely going on with him. But there was nothing she could put her finger on and you can’t accuse someone of murder based on being weird.
Once the meal was complete, the maids cleared the tables quickly and left only the carafes of wine and the guest’s glasses. The orchestra started to play music that was a bit more lively to encourage those first couples to hit the dance floor. It wasn’t long before the room looked like a moving canvas of colorful art as couples flowed in their gowns and capes. Shannon noticed Mrs. Pritchard sitting b
y herself at a table . All of the guests she had been sitting with were now dancing. Shannon moved across the room and asked if she might join her for a bit.
“Why certainly,” the older woman replied. “Isn’t this just the most magnificent affair? It’s been far too long, I’d say since the mansion hosted such a grand event. I think Mrs. Chadwick has been afraid of public scrutiny since the last accident but I think it’s exactly what this old place needs.”
As always, Mrs. Pritchard was ready to chat, so Shannon started right in. “I was talking with Frederick about that just this morning,” she said as an opener. Mrs. Pritchard raised her rather bushy brows and waited for her to continue. “The night of the accident, he claims he saw a woman hurrying away from the top of the stairs, although no one ever found her.”
“Indeed,” Mrs., Pritchard piped up. “No one ever found her because she was a ghost. It was the ghost of the Lady Caldwell, like I told you before. The same one that done this Melissa lass in. She’s a wicked one she is. Has some sort of thing for pretty girls that come here it seems. You’d best be on your guard, miss. You never know.” Shannon tried not to laugh. The woman was dead serious.
“I will be very careful,” Shannon assured her. “But I am not convinced that Melissa Davenport’s death was either caused by a ghost or an accident. I do have some reason to believe that it might have been a murder carried out by someone here at the mansion.” Mrs. Pritchard’s eyes grew even larger behind her thick lenses. Her hand flew to her chest and she shook her head.
“No no I can’t believe such a thing. There is no one here who could do such a horrible thing.” Shannon shrugged slightly.
“I think it is possible, and I would like to ask you about someone in particular, the maid on the staff that you say doesn’t exist. I’ve seen her, so I know she does.” Mrs. Pritchard was still shaking her head. “She is a small woman with long dark hair. I think she might be the woman Frederick saw that night when the other woman fell down the stairs. And I think she is the same maid that I have seen drifting in and out of rooms very mysteriously.” Mrs. Pritchard reached across the table and put her hand over Shannon’s.