The Impersonator (Leah Randall/Jessie Carr Novels)

by Miley, Mary

  “It’s going well, don’t you think?” asked Aunt Victoria, misinterpreting my smile.

  “Everything is magnificent, Aunt. The food is divine.”

  “You look lovely tonight, Jessie darling. Your dear mother would be so proud of you. I see you are wearing her pearls.”

  My breasts were bound tight for a boyish profile and the pearls lay flat on my chest. Even doubled, the rope reached to my waist. I was wearing Blanche’s gold bracelet as well, but none of it made Blanche any more real to me. When I wore Jessie’s glass beads, I felt Jessie’s presence. No one who knew me would have believed it, but I much preferred Jessie’s Venetian beads to all of Blanche’s finery.

  At eleven, servants carried a large cake into the room and I blew out twenty-one candles to the accompaniment of “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” I saw Val whispering to the bandleader, and moments later the musicians cranked up the Charleston number from the Carr Cousins vaudeville show. Before Aunt Victoria could object, the twins and the Hartley sisters performed the catchy routine to enthusiastic applause. So that’s what those four were doing this afternoon, shut away in their room! They were so cute even Aunt Victoria had to applaud.

  “I wish David Murray could be here to see us,” said Caro wistfully after the fuss had died down.

  “People don’t go to parties the same week they bury their mothers.” Henry sneered, swaying on his feet.

  “I just meant that he wanted to see us do our act again. He said so! But he’s coming tomorrow to say good-bye to Jessie, and maybe we can do it then, if Alice and Sophie are still here.”

  The band started up again. I was claimed by Mayor Franklin, a clumsy dancer who had governed Dexter since the Flood, and we began an awkward turn around the floor until, mercifully, someone tapped his shoulder. I caught my breath when I saw who was cutting in.

  “You looked so pathetic trying not to step on his feet that I took pity on you. You should thank me for rescuing you,” Ross said as he steered me into the stream.

  “The conversation was scintillating too.”

  “Let me guess—plans to pave the planked street? The cost of the new fire engine? Fortunately he’s a first-rate mayor, so his other qualities can be overlooked.”

  “You’re a first-rate dancer, Ross.”

  “Don’t act so surprised. I’d return the compliment but you already know you’re the best dancer in the room. Oh, I just recognized the song they’re playing—‘A Good Man Is Hard to Find,’ isn’t it? This band manages to make every number sound like a nursery song.”

  “Do you know Mae West’s version?” I asked wickedly. “‘A Hard Man Is Good to Find’?”

  His sharp laugh turned heads. “So you’re off on the Grand Tour, are you, cousin? When do you leave?”

  “Next week. I’ll let Mr. Wade book the stateroom on the next ship to sail, or whichever one he thinks best.”

  “How long do you figure to travel?”

  “I’m not sure. Until I see enough of what I want to see.”

  “While you’re gone, I’ll not be idle. I plan to solve the murder mystery.” With nothing to do but wait for Stanford to accept his thesis, our bored scholar had turned detective.

  “A new research project for you? Good luck. Did you learn anything at the reservation this afternoon?”

  “Everyone was pretty tight-lipped. But I’ve only begun to sleuth! I’m a bloodhound on the trail. A regular Tom Swift. Right after I heard about the coroner’s report, I contacted him and asked him about hair cutting. The body hadn’t been buried, so he had another look and, lo and behold, there was a lock of hair missing, just like the other two.”

  Too late now to add that to my letter to Smith and Wade, but they would find that fact for themselves. I thought how refreshingly normal Ross seemed when he wasn’t trying to impress with big words.

  “You can bet the coroner was pretty interested and wondered how I’d known to ask about hair. Probably thought I did her in—except I would have been all of sixteen at the time. So I told him about the others, and he said that because the girl was from Portland, it made him wonder whether there were similar deaths in that city. He’s looking through the police files to see.” I wondered whether anyone would tell the coroner that someone else had been asking the same questions a few days earlier.

  Henry returned to the ballroom, a full glass in hand and Grandmother on his tail. He sat down heavily beside Mr. Scarpetta. Heads together, they talked without sharing a single smile while Ross and I took several turns around the dance floor. Delivery problems? An uncooperative weather forecast? How was Henry going to unload all those cases of Canadian hooch with seas too rough to leave the harbor? Was Scarpetta in on it?

  One person who was definitely not in on it was dancing with me. “Next week I’ll nose around the Indian reservation again,” he was saying, “and try to learn what that girl was doing in Dexter. And there has to be some Indian in town who knew what she was mixed up with. The same for the Chinese neighborhood, although I don’t have any connections there, except maybe Chen. And it’s been years, but maybe I can find someone in Portland who remembers that girl who was killed in the warehouse. Something—or someone—brought her to Dexter, and I aim to find out who.”

  The low rumble of thunder could be heard over the music while rain lashed against the shutters. I looked at Grandmother, who was watching Henry through half-shut eyes. Henry was standing at the window—raging at the weather, I was sure.

  The hall clock struck two as the last of the lively set was saying its farewells. Rainy met me in my room to help me undress.

  I handed her Blanche’s pearls. “Here, these go in the velvet pouch. Where are my Venetian beads?”

  “Right here, miss. I wonder why pearls cost more than glass beads,” she said, holding Jessie’s beads in the light. “Pearls are pretty, but they’re plain white. These you can look at for a long time and see different colors, swirls, and shapes. There!” She fastened the clasp and stepped back. “Is there anything else you need before I go upstairs?”

  “What? Aren’t you going to bed?”

  “No, miss. We all got orders to report to the ballroom to help clean up. Mrs. Carr wants the house back to normal by morning.”

  I was exhausted, and I hadn’t been working since daybreak. Aghast, I considered countermanding Aunt Victoria’s orders, then backed off. Let her run the house, I thought, she knows more about servants than you do. I could, however, give one order. “Well, then, Rainy, tomorrow morning you must sleep as late as you like. I don’t want to see you before noon, you understand? And I don’t care what anyone else tells you.”

  She smiled. “Yes, miss. Sleep well.”

  I fell asleep at once but could not take her advice. My sleep was interrupted by flashes of dark dreams that culminated in the now-familiar Jessie dream. She was in some dark place; she was frightened; Venetian beads sparkled all around her. Her feet were cold and wet. Then my feet were cold and wet and I was Jessie, trying to move away, trying to call for help. Calling to hurry. No one heard our voice.

  48

  Just before noon I put on a plaid wool day dress and comfortable shoes and went downstairs to appease the growling beast in my stomach. The house was weirdly quiet; the ticking of the grandfather clock seemed as loud as it did at midnight. It was Sunday—my last full day at Cliff House. Gray skies and soggy ground were the only reminders of last night’s storm. I found Caroline in the dining room hunched over a plate of eggs and toast.

  “Good morning,” I said. “Where is everyone?”

  “Sophie and Alice left,” she said morosely. Postparty melancholia had settled in. “Their father came by to fetch them for church.”

  The buffet table was set with late breakfast as if it were any normal Sunday. I marveled at Marie’s stamina … did the woman never rest?

  “Your dance last night was quite the hit!” I said, joining Caro at the table.

  She brightened a little. “Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” />
  “You killed ’em. However did you and Val teach the Hartley girls all those steps, and so quickly?”

  “We practiced all afternoon in secret. I did my magic trick, too.”

  “No! Really? Where?”

  “In one of the spare bedrooms, the one next to the bar. I was careful to do just as you said—never show anyone the same trick twice or they will figure it out. I made sure that different people were in the room each time I did it.”

  “You’re quite the entertainer. I’m so proud!” She didn’t notice the catch in my throat when I said it.

  At that moment, Ross came into the dining room looking none the worse for wear. “Where is everyone?” he asked.

  “The Hartleys just left,” said Caro, resuming her long face. “Val’s upstairs.”

  “My grandmother and Uncle Oliver had breakfast in their rooms,” I added, “and I haven’t seen your mother, but I’m sure she’s up. It’s astonishing how the house looks—you would never think there had been a hundred people here for a party last night!”

  “Yes, Mother is indefatigable. I saw her from my window with the gardener earlier this morning. Henry was up early too.”

  “Oh?” I asked, keeping my voice light. “When was that? I thought he’d be sleeping it off this morning.”

  “So did I, considering what he poured into himself, but I heard him in the bathroom a couple of hours ago. He and Scarpetta had a sailing date yesterday that they couldn’t keep, so now that the weather has cleared, it’s anchors aweigh.”

  Ambushed by overconfidence! I was so sure he’d have a hangover and not appear until the afternoon, I hadn’t even considered getting up earlier. Swallowing a last bite, I excused myself from the table and went into the kitchen where I slipped out the back door, circled around the garden, and picked up the path to the cliff edge.

  Once there, I shaded my eyes with my hand and squinted out to sea. I had no idea how long it took a sailboat to travel from one place to another, but I was betting that Henry would repeat his trip of a few weeks ago—the one the boy William had described—sailing south along the coast to the rocky area by the third cave. That had to be the way he made his deliveries, although for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how, unless it was a transfer at sea. A strong wind from the south blew into my face as I scanned the empty ocean.

  Dejected, I sat on the grass beside a copse of scraggly bushes, heedless of the damp. How long did it take to navigate out of the harbor, turn south, and sail several miles along the coast? An hour? Three hours? Had he left yet? All I could do was wait and watch.

  Shockingly, there was his boat, right in front of me, emerging from behind one of the massive rock formations that stood a half mile out in the sea. It skimmed across the water, sails full of wind, bobbing like a painted horse on a merry-go-round in a way that would surely have made me sick if I’d been aboard. It was heading south into the wind in a zigzag pattern with sails that shifted back and forth, something that puzzled me because it would have been faster to go straight, but I am not a sailor and know nothing about these things. Young William had been right—Henry was headed for the waters off the caves. As I watched, I estimated the amount of time it was taking him to go the distance down the coast.

  I could see a figure walk from one end of the boat to the other, pick something up, and walk back. If I could see him, could he see me? I made myself smaller and waited for the boat to disappear behind another rock sentinel so I could hide behind the bushes. I considered walking south to the lower headlands nearer the third cave to get a better look, but the terrain there was exposed and treeless—I would stand out like a soloist on an empty stage.

  It was midday. Low tide came at two. Would the third cave be dry at low tide, or would there be enough water in it to get a sailboat inside? And why would a sailboat go inside a cave to unload cargo a few hours before high tide? As soon as I saw Henry’s boat returning to harbor, I was going to climb down the path to the beach and find out.

  “What are you doing?”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin. So much for my instincts about being watched. I had been so intent on Henry’s boat that I’d ignored everything else.

  “Val! You scared the daylights out of me!” I stalled for time, trying to think of an innocent reason to be sitting here spying on her brother. Meanwhile, there she stood beside me, big as life, in full view of the occupants of the boat.

  “I was just enjoying the view and watching that pretty sailboat go by.”

  “That’s Henry’s boat.” She stepped forward and waved both arms vigorously, trying to catch someone’s attention. I saw two figures on board now, then a third and fourth. My heart sank.

  “Is it, indeed? What a coincidence! It’s a lovely boat, isn’t it?”

  “I’m glad they got out today. He was mad that they didn’t get to sail Thursday or Friday because the sea was too rough, even for him.”

  I had to assume they had a spyglass and could identify us. It was time to walk conspicuously away as if we had just strolled along the headlands for a breath of fresh air and were returning to the house.

  “Mother’s looking for you.”

  “Is she? Well, let’s go back. You were marvelous last night, by the way. That dance routine killed ’em…”

  Aunt Victoria met me in the library, a ledger book open on the table. Because I was leaving for some months, she felt duty bound to review the household expenditures with me to make sure I approved of everything.

  “That really isn’t necessary, Aunt. I think you do a fine job managing the house and consider myself blessed to have you living here.”

  Nothing would do but to examine the last seven years of expenditures—the garage and shed additions, the tennis court, the garden, all the servants and what each was paid, the regular maintenance on the house, food bills, clothing for all five of the family and servants’ uniforms, donations to church and charity, and tuition for the boys. She had not purchased new draperies but the ones in the parlor were looking faded … did I think she should? I thought I’d scream with frustration.

  “Whatever you think best, Aunt, I have complete confidence in your judgment.”

  Fidgeting did me no good. Aunt Victoria was relentless in her review. When I edged toward the door, she restrained me with her hand on my arm. The trustees had paid for the boys’ tuition at Stanford, but she did not want me to think they had also funded their living expenses away from home. Rather, she had taken that money from a small sum she had inherited from her father. I wanted to shout, “I don’t care! I don’t care! I’ve got to go back and check on Henry’s boat!”

  At last I escaped the library only to be caught by Rainy, who had been hovering at the door. “Excuse me, miss, but I should be starting the packing. Did you want to give some instructions?”

  I most certainly did. I would need to travel light and wanted to choose from among my more practical outfits. But at the moment, I was desperate to return to my lookout point, afraid I would miss seeing Henry’s boat on its way back to Dexter Bay.

  “We’ll pack together this evening, Rainy. I’m off for a walk now.” And I left her, no doubt wondering what on earth was so important about a walk.

  I reached the cliff moments before Henry’s sailboat came into view. Pushed north by the wind and farther out at sea than it had been on its southerly voyage, the sleek vessel clipped along prettily. Calculating approximately how long it had taken for the boat to sail the distance south, I figured Henry would not arrive back in Dexter Bay for a good two hours. The coast was clear for a visit to the third cave.

  I was not so idiotic as to go alone. I didn’t know what I would find, if anything, and there was always the chance that someone from the boat had remained behind in the cave. I ran back to the house where I found Caro slumped in an overstuffed chair, scowling at the pages of a fashion magazine.

  “Do you know what I’ve wanted to do ever since I arrived?” I asked her.

  “What?”

 
; “Explore the caves. Would you like to come with me?”

  “Oh, we’ve done that. So have you.”

  “Well, that’s true, I went inside the closer ones, but I want to hike over the rocks to that far cave and take a look at it.”

  “It looks like the others. They’re boring. There’s nothing inside but slime.”

  “It’s low tide, and there probably will be a lot of agates on the beach after yesterday’s storm.”

  “Oh, all right. Why not? There’s nothing else to do around this stupid place.”

  49

  The moment her foot touched the beach Caro exclaimed, “Oh, phooey! We forgot to bring a bucket! And I’m not climbing all the way back up there to get one!”

  “Never mind,” I said. “My handkerchief is large enough to knot the corners and make a pouch.”

  The pace I set was rather fast for rock hunting, but Caroline was sulking and didn’t notice. “Are you still planning to do your routine for David Murray when he comes this afternoon?” I asked, trying to find a happy subject.

  “I guess.” She kicked at a piece of driftwood.

  “Who was that nice-looking young man I saw you dancing with so many times last night?”

  She reddened. “Oh, nobody.”

  “Well, Mr. Nobody looked quite taken with you.”

  “He’s not. He’s sweet on Sophie. All I heard was ‘Sophie, Sophie, Sophie,’ until I thought I’d throw up.”

  So that was it. For effect I reached for a purple agate and dropped it in my handkerchief. “Hmm. How old is he?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “Just wait a bit. When I was your age there was a boy of eighteen who swore his undying devotion and a week later fell madly in love with the youngest singer in a sister act he met the day before. Boys that age are as changeable as hemlines.”

  “But he goes to high school with Sophie and sees her every day. I hate studying with Mrs. Applewhite! I’ll never meet anybody cooped up here!”