Justine and the Psychic Connections

by Ruth Hay

The housekeeper’s voice raised in response, and soon I heard an older male voice added to the disturbance.

  “What’s going on here, Mrs. Kelso? Do you need my help?”

  At once Mrs. Kelso changed tactics. She opened the door just enough to allow the Laird to see and be seen. He was descending a central staircase. The glimpse of him showed me a man in his eighties with white hair and old-fashioned tweed clothing but he had a noble face with a prominent nose and shaggy eyebrows.

  “Sir, this person…………….. she pronounced the word ‘pairson’, with no small amount of disdain………… is trying to gain entry to the mansion. I was just telling her to depart.

  There’s no need for you to be bothered.”

  I peered around the partly-opened door and inserted myself into the conversation.

  “Good day, Lord Lennox, I am here to offer you an opportunity to enroll your mansion in a Scottish scheme to encourage visitors to pay to tour the premises.”

  I swear his eyes lit up. These older buildings were always in need of repairs. I could imagine that the Laird had few financial resources left to see him and his wife through their latter years.

  “Oh, come now, Kelso. Let me speak with this woman. You go back to your mistress and see to her breakfast please.”

  The look the housekeeper gave me would have turned a lesser being to stone. I confirmed my first impression of her. Whatever was going on in secret in this house, was well known to her, and she did not relish intruders finding out about it. I assumed she was off to complain to Lady Evelyn and I had about five minutes before that lady arrived to banish me.

  Lord Lennox conducted me into a fine Library adjacent to the entrance hall. I sat on the chair he indicated and wasted no time.

  “We have already estimated your home to be a fine example of Early Scottish architecture. By enrolling in our program, you can receive a payment each month for only a few days of minor inconvenience. Our groups are limited in number and conducted by knowledgeable retired history professors who will take care of everything for you. Nothing needs to be done by the mansion’s residents, and our insurance covers any damage, although that is highly unlikely. Our visitors are most respectful and appreciative.”

  I could see he wanted to ask the crass question about money. I tore a page from my notepad and wrote a monthly sum of money on it, and scribbled the ‘No fee upfront’ information that would surely seal the deal.

  I was just embarking on my requirement of obtaining a preliminary tour of the premises when Lady Evelyn was ushered into the room.

  “What is going on dear?”

  She focussed on her husband and he began to explain my presence, which gave me time to absorb my shock. Lady Evelyn was ravaged by disease. She moved slowly with the aid of two sturdy walking sticks but pain showed on every line of her twisted body. My right leg began to throb in sympathy and I knew I must save this elderly couple and ensure their continued existence in the home they had cherished for many years.

  I had assumed an identity and I could not drop it even although I felt guilt at my initial deception. I rose to acknowledge her presence and helped her to sit. The brief touch on her arm allowed me to pour reassurance into her and her expression changed from one of doubt to one of a more accepting demeanour.

  After a few moments of listening to her husband, she turned her pale blue eyes on me and asked if a formal proposition might be forthcoming from the Scottish Historical Society so that a solicitor could review the terms.

  “Indeed! All the formalities will be observed, as soon as I may be permitted to do a quick overview of the interior, just to note the particular points of interest for the catalogue description.”

  Her husband interrupted to say, “I believe I could conduct that overview, my dear. There’s no need for you to exert yourself. I will ask Kelso to light the fire in here and bring your herbal tea to you.”

  “Very well, Arnold, if you wish to pursue this idea. Nothing need be decided immediately.”

  This was exactly what I had hoped for. I could ask the Laird pertinent questions, look around and estimate the damage.

  I still suspected Mrs. Kelso was the culprit but there was always the possibility that Arnold, Lord Lennox, was in on the furniture removal scheme.

  Fourteen

  I had seen the Library and all was as expected there.

  The Laird conducted me through the main reception rooms on ground level and I could not see anything out of place. I was looking for a sign of missing items such as a faded patch on a wall or a brighter space of carpeting indicating something was recently removed from that spot.

  When the Laird mentioned the room on the ground floor with the double doors had been converted to a bedroom suite to accommodate his wife’s condition, I began to suspect any thefts would have been from the higher levels of the building where there was less traffic.

  “Of course, your private rooms would not be a part of the tour, Lord Lennox. Do you currently use any rooms on the upper floors?”

  “Only the Billiards Room, at the moment. The rest are closed to save heating costs but there may be something interesting there for the tour visitors.”

  I nodded and smiled but I was beginning to be afraid that a shock was coming to this kindly old gentleman. I allowed him to escort me to his Billiards Room where the table was in good condition, the paintings around the walls were vintage oil portraits and the couches were of good leather. When I asked to see the bedrooms, he fetched a set of keys from a wall cabinet and led the way to the first room, which was the former master suite. This was an elegant and charming room with a four-poster bed. A dressing room and a bathroom connected to the spacious main room. The furnishings were in a delicate shade of pale lilac. I expressed my admiration and proclaimed this room would be an asset for the tour.

  “How many more bedrooms are there on this floor, Sir?”

  “Goodness! I hardly know. It’s so long since any were occupied. Mrs. Kelso gives them a dust around every few days, I believe. Take the keys and have a look if you wish. I have a game of billiards to finish.”

  This trusting attitude was, undoubtedly, what gave rise to the thieving opportunity. I was glad to assess the possible damage on my own, without distressing the owner with what was missing. When I had more evidence to produce would be soon enough for that.

  I took the keys and progressed along the long hallway. A sitting room divided the bedrooms in the centre and here I saw the most losses. Every major piece was gone. Couches and sideboards, ornate chairs and tables that would normally grace such a room, had all been removed.

  No attempt had been made to disguise the fact. There were marks along the carpeting to show where the trolley had dragged the weight across to the door. Some items in the way of the exit were knocked over, indicating haste. I was appalled to see such destruction but it was clear the owners were far away from hearing any nightly disturbance. I made a photographic record on my phone.

  It occurred to me that Kelso might have assisted the owners’ deep sleep by administering a sleeping potion of some kind. My assessment of that woman’s capabilities made this a strong possibility.

  There was only one problem delaying my final conclusions.

  How on earth did those men convey a heavily laden trolley down the central staircase without leaving gouges in the wood?

  I walked along, peeking inside the remaining bedrooms, until I reached the end of the hallway where there were linen closets in a row, originally meant for the housemaids to store spare bedding and such supplies. I opened each door in turn and smelled the cachets of lavender set between the sheets and blankets. To my surprise, the final set of doors revealed a large, pulley-style lift which was intended to convey baskets of dirty linens and other large items to the laundry in the kitchen wing. I noted a drip of oil on the wooden base. The pulley had been recently lubricated, to prevent it from squeaking when furniture was hoisted onto its platform.

  My final problem solved, I hurried to make m
y exit.

  Mrs. Kelso met me downstairs. I could see she wished she could say something nasty to me but I forestalled her fears by commenting that I inspected only one or two bedrooms upstairs and that was sufficient for my needs. She appeared to be pleased with this summation but I had no doubt that news of my visit would now be passed along to her co-conspirators, and a hasty midnight raid would be planned as soon as could be arranged.

  I made a rapid retreat from the mansion, somewhat ashamed of my deception but determined to find a way to save the old couple from further thefts and somehow find a better servant for them than Mrs. Kelso.

  As soon as I was inside my car, I removed my disguise and drove away from Lenzie for some miles, turning around again after I had composed myself and given thought to my next move.

  I could make an anonymous call to the police and hope they acted quickly.

  I could make another midnight expedition and try to get photographs of the moving van.

  I could tackle Mrs. Kelso personally.

  I could consult with Ramses and see what he advised.

  All these options were possible but I chose to start with the local source of information.

  Sadie Turner was in her usual position behind the counter.

  “How is young Kelvin getting on in school?” I began.

  “Oh, he signed up for guitar lessons with the music teacher and that is keeping him out of trouble. Just let me know if you need him for anything. He certainly appreciated your interest.”

  I knew this meant Kelvin liked the pocket money he earned for helping the Mackenzie twins.

  With their father back, and in charge, I doubted Kelvin would be needed there again.

  Now that I had re-established friendly contact with Sadie, I moved on to the main topic.

  “I was out walking the other day and I saw the housekeeper from the mansion picking vegetables from the gardens. Is she a local woman? I haven’t seen her around.”

  As I spoke, I was filling a basket with biscuits and butter and anything else I might need. I did not want Sadie to think I had a particular interest in the housekeeper.

  “You mean that Kelso woman? She’s not from these parts at all. She replaced old Maggie MacKay who used to do all the housework for the Laird and Lady Evelyn but after Lady Evelyn got so ill, it was too much for Maggie. I believe the couple advertised in the papers for help but I do not where Mrs. Kelso came from. To my way of thinking they needed a nurse, a housekeeper and a manservant instead of that woman, but I suppose times are hard and they could not afford it. She never darkens the door here, I can tell you.”

  Sadie wittered on and I pretended to be listening. What I learned was that there was no love lost between the village and Mrs. Kelso. She was an incomer, a stranger, and they owed her nothing.

  “Well, I thought myself the housekeeper was struggling to bend down and pull up the garden greens. It’s a pity there’s no one younger around who needs the work.”

  I placed my filled basket on the counter right in front of Sadie and she bent toward me whispering, “You’re not the only one to say that, Mrs. Jordan. There’s several in the village who would be glad of the work and do a damn fine job of it too, believe me!”

  Good news.

  I could move ahead and get rid of Mrs. Kelso without leaving the elderly couple bereft of the help they needed. I would proceed with my plan with a clear conscience.

  Fifteen

  There was no way I was leaving the house late at night without my trusty companion.

  Ramses jumped up from his sleeping spot on the chair as soon as I came down the stairs in my dark clothes. We exited through the rear garden gate and onto open ground.

  The moon was waning now but there was just enough light to ensure I kept to the path. All went well until we reached the rear of the mansion.

  Suddenly, Ramses crouched down in alarm and I saw a man standing near the back door to the kitchen. Glimmers of moonlight glinted off the gun he was holding at the ready.

  Mrs. Kelso had alerted her fellow thieves and they were ready for us.

  This changed things.

  Creeping up on the thieves and obtaining picture evidence was now in doubt. As soon as Ramses and I attempted to enter the mansion gardens we would be seen.

  As I watched, the guard yawned widely. He gave every evidence of being bored with his assignment. He looked ripe for a distraction.

  I kneeled down beside Ramses and began to talk to him in a very quiet but powerful tone. I instructed him to approach the man and do his best to occupy him for a few seconds while I skipped down the side path to see what was happening at the front of the house.

  Ramses looked at me with those amazing blue eyes. He almost nodded. I gave one last indicator for him to proceed down the centre path and he was off. His stately progress, caught in the moonlight, was irresistible. He purred loudly as he drew closer to the guard, announcing his willingness to be admired and stroked. I did not wait to see the inevitable result. I was already creeping along the side of the house toward the front gates.

  Sure enough, the same van was there. I could not risk my camera light flashing so I memorised the van’s number plate and noted every item I could see entering the rear of the van. I had a good idea of what was being stolen, since I knew the remaining contents of the drawing room upstairs. The lamps and chairs went first into the van followed by tables and large paintings from the walls of the upstairs hallway.

  Then there was a lull, during which nothing happened. I discovered the reason for the delay when the trolley emerged through the gates with a heavy item on board. It had to be a dressing table from one of the bedrooms. It looked as if the thieves were expanding their operation. It was a sign of their desperation.

  I was reaching forward to see if there was a name or phone number on the van’s side, when I stumbled on a rock.

  Pain shot through my right leg and I called out. I bit into my lip but the sound had been heard.

  The men loading the van stopped and looked around them. In only a few steps in my direction they would find me lying in the bushes.

  Ramses took over. He caterwauled once, making a truly unearthly sound, ran right in front of the men with his tail and back fur standing on end, and disappeared back into the garden on the opposite side of the main driveway from where I was hiding.

  “Only a cat fight!” said one of the men.

  They resumed their work.

  In a few more minutes, the van was closed up tight, and the men began to push it along as before. Lenzie High Street resumed its quiet nighttime slumber.

  I now had a big problem.

  I could hardly stand, never mind walk home.

  Ramses returned to me but he could not help. Our route behind the houses was out of the question. If I was to return home before daylight, I must choose the faster route along the street.

  I summoned all my strength and pulled myself up using the railings. The leg was not broken but every step caused more pain. Gritting my teeth, I hopped and hobbled on my one good leg to the mansion gates, which the men had not closed behind them. Ramses followed my slow progress out onto the pavement and along the railings using hand over hand to take the weight off my leg.

  The church wall came next and I leaned heavily on it. There was a long way to go before I reached number 23 but there were several houses with fences and gates at the front to help me along.

  Sadie’s Shop windows had ledges where I rested my back for a minute.

  I despaired of the last long stretch. My energy was fast depleting. I dreaded to be found lying helpless on the street when the sun rose and the village came back to life.

  Then I spied a tree branch, fallen from one of the trees that lined the High Street. I hobbled over to the tree and leaned against it while I worked my way down to ground level and grabbed the branch. It was just long enough to fit under my arm and give the support I needed to my right leg. In this way, we slowly reached home.

  I was sweating and
weak from my labours. Ramses was alarmed at my slow progress and both of us were glad when I opened the door, went forward a few more steps and collapsed on the couch, breathing deeply.

  I knew this pain of old. I would be completely immobile for days, unless I could stay still for a number of hours and allow the pain to subside, with the help of strong medication.

  I was lying on the couch near the front door in considerable pain. A pill bottle was on top of the kitchen countertop. I had my phone in my pocket but no one nearby who I could summon at this hour without requiring complicated explanations I preferred not to get into.

  I looked at Ramses.

  He was an exceptional cat.

  Was he exceptional enough?

  There was a technique I had used only once before, when in a dire state. I hesitated to use it now but I had little choice. I could always summon Simon’s help but it would take time for him to send aid.

  I could not wait.

  I patted my stomach, inviting Ramses to jump up close to my face. This could work, or if not ………. it might well scare the cat away from me forever.

  With the last of my mental strength, I connected with Ramses on a level that was nothing short of an invasion of his brain. I placed into his consciousness an image of the pill bottle on the countertop and added a sense of urgency.

  I could attempt something this powerful only once.

  I waited anxiously to see if there was a result.

  Ramses stared at my face with those unreadable blue eyes. I held my breath.

  Time passed.

  Suddenly he jumped in the air and ran at full speed out of the living room and away out of my sight. I was sure he was heading for the cat flap and freedom, and I could not blame him.

  I closed my eyes and tried to relax but the pain had me firmly in its grip.

  I believe I lost consciousness for a minute or two.

  I came to myself again when I heard the sound of rattling. At first, I feared it was the dreaded death rattle of impending doom, but a weight on my chest announced that Ramses had returned bearing the pill bottle in his mouth.