“All of us?”
“Of course,” Benita said.
“No,” Madelyn said slowly. “As I remember, Aldo said he had a headache. He went upstairs to get some aspirin.”
“That’s correct,” Aldo said. “I joined you later.”
“I remember when you came into the dining room.” My hands were clammy as I spoke out, but I had started this line of thinking and it was important. “You would have had plenty of time to strip that lamp cord.”
“I suppose so,” he said, “but so would Madelyn and Benita. As you remember, Benita left because she was coughing, and Madelyn followed to make sure that Benita was all right.”
“You did?” Benita asked, staring at Madelyn with wide eyes. “Then where were you? I went straight to my room, but I didn’t see you.”
Except for a slight twitch of her chin, Madelyn didn’t lose her cool demeanor. “I went to your room. You weren’t there.”
“I was—Oh,” Benita said. “That’s right. I didn’t go to my room. I went out on the lower veranda.”
Madelyn shrugged both her eyebrows. Benita mumbled, “Well, I did. I did.”
Aldo said to Kurt, “How about you? Did you leave the room?”
“I was right there the whole time,” Kurt said.
I tried hard to think. “Wait a minute. Kurt was sitting next to me, and he did leave the dining room a number of times because he was taking Ellison’s place in serving while Ellison worked on the generator.”
“So there we are,” Madelyn said. “We all had access to the living room. So did Ellison.”
Ellison opened the door to the kitchen. “Somebody want me?” he asked.
“No,” Benita said.
But Kurt said, “Yes, we do.” He stood. “We’re going to reenact the showing of the artifact, and I’d like you to be present.”
“I wasn’t there,” Ellison said.
“I know. But we need someone to sit in for Judge Arlington-Hughes.”
Ellison took a step backward and cleared his throat twice before he could speak. “I—I don’t like that. The judge is dead. We should let him be.”
I stood up too. “Don’t make him. Nobody would want to play that part.”
“It’s necessary,” Kurt said.
The others followed him to the living room. Ellison and I dragged along behind them, both of us wishing we were somewhere else.
Just inside the door, Kurt turned to face us. “Here,” he said, “on this table were candles in candle holders. I’ve tried to arrange the table as it was. If you can remember which candlestick you were holding, please pick it up. Since we’ve got daylight, we don’t need to light the candles.”
All of us hesitated, examining the candlesticks. How could we possibly remember? But suddenly I saw the small brass candle holder, and I remembered very clearly. Is this how the reenactment would work? In repeating our actions would someone remember that I reached out for the artifact? Trying hard not to visibly tremble, I squeezed in behind the others, who were grouping themselves around the table.
Ellison was led to the chair positioned behind the table, which had been neatly spread with the black velvet cloth. His eyes were wide with fright. Kurt leaned against the wall near us, his gaze intent. He wasn’t going to miss a thing.
I moved to the right of where I had been, standing next to Benita, but she gave me a little push. “No, no,” she said. “You weren’t standing there, Andrea. Aldo was. Aldo was on my right, and Norton was on his right, a little past the end of the table.”
“Where he could have seen the lamp cord,” I said, trying to distract them.
I stepped to Madelyn’s left, but Madelyn firmly moved me. “You stood next to Benita,” she said. “You were between us.”
She was correct, of course. I wished their memories weren’t so good.
Aldo gave Ellison the small jewel box. “The judge took this from his pocket, opened it, and laid it on the table in front of us,” he said. As Ellison clutched the box without moving, Aldo said firmly, “Open it, Ellison. Put it on the table, facing us.”
With shaking hands Ellison held out the closed box. His fingers fumbled with the catch. In the silence I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.
With a sudden snap the box lid sprang back. Each of us let out a rush of breath as we stared at the empty box. It was like waiting for a ghost that didn’t materialize, wondering if in some magic way the topaz would still lie there, glittering under the monkey’s tiny golden paws, as it did on Friday night.
“It was the most beautiful stone I’ve ever seen.” Madelyn’s voice was low, as though she were speaking only to herself. “It had such depth, such clarity, and it glowed in the candlelight.”
“But Justin told us to blow out the candles,” Benita said. “And we did, except for Andrea.”
Aldo picked up the story. “The judge turned the switch on the lamp, but nothing happened.”
“He blamed Kurt, who was supposed to have plugged in the lamp,” Madelyn said.
I tried to swallow. My throat was so dry it hurt, and the black velvet wavered and rippled and seemed to rise in a smothering haze.
Aldo said, “The judge reached down to plug in the lamp. Then Andrea’s candle—”
“Don’t ask me to do that!” Ellison clutched the edge of the table, his eyes rimmed with white. He looked sick.
“Someone pushed me!” I murmured. “The candle fell out of my hand and went out.”
“Everyone was pushing forward,” Madelyn said, “and Benita—”
Benita gasped, one hand over her forehead. “Wait! I remember something!” She slowly turned toward her left, toward Madelyn and me. “What did I see? Was it an arm reaching out? Yes. Yes, I saw an arm!”
“Whose arm?” Aldo whispered.
Lips parted, as though she were in a trance, Benita stared into space, trying to grasp the memory. I couldn’t let this continue or she was going to remember! “No!” I screamed. “Stop it!” And I flung my candlestick to the floor.
CHAPTER
13
Benita screeched, and her candlestick went flying as she clapped her hands over her ears. This was too much for Ellison. He jumped to his feet so quickly that the table flew over, banging him in the shins. Without waiting to hear what Kurt would say, he hobbled from the room, looking like a sand crab scrambling sideways toward the safety of the sea.
I wrapped my arms around Aunt Madelyn. My scream may have been an act, but there was no pretense in the fear that lay like a wrapping of ice under my skin. She tried to soothe me, and I was awfully glad to have her there to hang on to.
Kurt picked up the table and slammed it back into place with such force that Benita opened her eyes and lowered her hands. Leaning on the table, his arms rigid, he glared at her and demanded, “Go on! You saw an arm. Whose arm?”
“Don’t yell at me!” Benita began to cry. “I’ve cooperated all along, and what happened wasn’t my fault! I tried! But I don’t know what I saw!”
“Okay, okay,” Aldo said. “Calm down and think. You said that you saw an arm reach out.”
“I know I said that, but I’m not sure. I saw a movement. It may have been something else. You’ve got me so confused. Ellison is right. We shouldn’t have done this.”
Kurt turned his attention to me. “Why did you scream?”
“Because I was frightened!” My voice trembled as I answered. “The way Benita was talking was like—well, like the way someone talks who is holding a stance and communicating with the dead.”
Madelyn leaned back to look at me sharply. “When did you ever go to a séance?”
“I didn’t, but I’ve seen them in movies.”
Aldo, who was obviously making a deliberate effort to get himself under control, tried to speak calmly. “Perhaps we should try this again.”
“No!” Benita, Madelyn, and I spoke together.
“Besides,” Madelyn added, “you’ll never get Ellison to cooperate after what happened.”
“I want to lie down,” Benita said.
“How about sitting out on the veranda?” I asked. “It’s breezy and comfortable, and you can look at the sea.”
“That’s a good idea,” Madelyn said. “Andrea and I will go with you.” She didn’t mention Aldo or Kurt. I wondered if they’d upset her, too, with this terrifying reenactment.
Neither Aldo nor Kurt said a word. They quietly watched us as we left the living room through the open, shuttered doors. I wasn’t worried about what Aldo might do. Knowing that Kurt was in the house watching him made me feel a lot more secure.
We helped lower Benita onto a reclining lawn chair, where she plopped, her legs giving out. “I wish I had never gotten involved in this,” she whimpered. “I want to go home.”
“The boat will be here late this afternoon,” Madelyn reassured her.
“That’s hours away!” Benita complained. “Who knows what will happen between now and then?”
My thoughts exactly.
But Madelyn said firmly, “It’s ridiculous to worry about what might happen. We’ll simply rest here on the veranda and enjoy the breeze and the sunlight. You must admit that it’s a beautiful day.”
She and I chose chairs a little apart from Benita. Maybe it was the creaking rhythm of our rocking chairs, but Benita seemed to relax, and pretty soon her eyes closed.
“Do you think she’s asleep?” I asked.
“I hope so!” Madelyn said. “She can be—umm—difficult to deal with.”
“Sometimes she acts like a child.”
“Unfortunately, she did not have a pretty childhood—foster homes, one in which she was abused.”
“Aunt Madelyn,” I said, “people are so complex. I mean, like Benita, and like Aldo. He frightens me, and yet he has a daughter my age, and his face lit up as he talked about her. And Kurt. I feel kind of sorry for him, because he was a popular jock in high school, and that was the only big moment in his life. But at the same time he’s tough and mean—to Pete—uh—to some people—and he poses as the judge’s secretary, only he’s really a private investigator.”
Madelyn sat upright. “He’s what?”
I looked toward the house. No one seemed to be within earshot, but I didn’t want to take the chance. “Walk with me down the beach,” I said as I stood. “Come on, Aunt Madelyn. I’ll explain.”
She glanced over at Benita, who was breathing in a low, steady whistle. “I guess she won’t miss us, but we’d better make it a short walk.” She rose and put a hand on my arm. “Andrea, do you think I’m as complex as the others you’ve mentioned?”
I nodded.
“And how do you see me?”
“You’re my aunt,” I said. “I love you.”
For a moment she looked as though she wasn’t going to let me get away with an answer like that, but she smiled. “All right,” she said. “Let’s take that walk. I want to hear what you have to tell me.”
We walked east, out of sight of the house, and I told her about Pete and what Pete had told me about Kurt. I knew that Pete was somewhere nearby because he had said he’d be.
Madelyn stopped, her toes digging into the damp sand. “This story is incredible, Andrea! You meet a strange boy on this island and actually trust him? Suppose he’s the one who stole the artifact and killed Justin and Granakee?”
“I knew you’d think that,” I said. “But he couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
I told her about my suspicions concerning Aldo. When I finished she said, “It does make sense.” She shook her head impatiently. “But if that’s the case, then Kurt obviously did not do the thorough job of investigating that Justin hired him to do, and because of his carelessness we have been put in this horrible situation. I’d like to tell him what I think of him!”
“No! You can’t!” I said.
She waved my concern aside. “Well, of course I won’t, but one point bothers me. Why is Aldo searching so intently for the artifact if he has it? Do you think he’s putting on an act to deceive us?”
“No,” I said. “He doesn’t have the artifact.”
She frowned as she thought. “I don’t have it, and I really believe that Benita doesn’t. But if Kurt has it, why would he have made us go through that horrible charade?”
“Kurt doesn’t have it,” I said.
She looked at me with wide eyes. “Andrea! Don’t you realize? That Pete person is the only one left. He must have stolen the topaz!”
“He didn’t, Aunt Madelyn. I took it.”
She opened and shut her mouth a few times, but nothing came out. “I think Aldo planned to take it as soon as the lights went out,” I said. “It just happened that I was closer to the topaz and beat him to it.”
“Well,” she said. “I never thought—” She broke off, still staring at me.
“None of them did,” I said, “because I wasn’t an invited guest. I just tagged along with you. I wasn’t here to bid on the artifact, and besides, to them I’m just a kid, and kids don’t count.”
“But sooner or later someone will add things up,” Madelyn said. “In fact, I wonder if Aldo has already begun to suspect you! What in the world should we do?”
“I think you should meet Pete,” I said, and I turned toward the trees. “Pete, you’re there, aren’t you?”
He popped out from behind a tree and jumped to the sand.
Aunt Madelyn winced, but as I introduced them she graciously held out her right hand and behaved as though she were meeting Pete at an art gallery reception.
“I want you to trust me,” Pete said.
“I have no reason to.” Madelyn drew herself up like the cold, wicked queen again, withdrawing her hand.
Pete sighed. “I should have worn a tie, shouldn’t I? I just didn’t have one that goes with these shorts.”
The tropical heat didn’t make a dent in the chill Madelyn sent out. “I don’t appreciate your attempts at humor,” she told Pete. “They are totally out of place.”
But Pete gave her a big smile. “We’re all in a tight spot, and we need a little humor to keep from going bonkers. We also need each other, Aunt Madelyn.”
“I am not your Aunt Madelyn.”
His smile grew wider. “We’ll make it only if you trust me. Hey, I trust you.”
“Please, Aunt Madelyn,” I said.
“I don’t sign blank checks,” she said. “Suppose you tell me what you have in mind.”
Pete looked at me. “I wish we could,” he said, “but we haven’t thought it all out yet.”
“Young man,” Madelyn said, “I have no idea what you’re planning to do, or even who you are.” She turned to me. “Do you have a good, solid reason for trusting this young man?”
“Yes,” I said. “Pete makes me feel good about myself, and I haven’t felt that way for a long time.” Madelyn raised one questioning eyebrow, so I went on. “Everything seemed to be crashing in on me at once, Aunt Madelyn, and I felt like a little kid who wanted to hide until everything was back to the way it should be. I didn’t want to admit that life keeps going forward, and situations change. I guess I didn’t think I could handle my problems. But now I know that I can. I’m not a little kid, and whatever happens in my life—even whatever Mom and Dad decide to do with their lives—I’ll be able to work it out. Now, do you understand?”
She didn’t look convinced as she said, “You want me to trust this young man simply on the basis of your feelings about yourself? You haven’t told me anything tangible about him.”
I tried to think of something that would help. “Pete lives in Miami, Aunt Madelyn. Maybe you know his parents. His father is an attorney.”
“Michaels?” A computer key clicked on in her brain and she said to Pete, “Hamilton Michaels? Is he your father?”
“Yeah,” Pete said.
Her features immediately softened. “Hamilton and Marion Michaels. They gave the Sartington Museum a generous loan of three fine Rembrandt sketches. Well. So, you’re their son.
”
“Now will you trust him?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” she said. “I admit I’m a little more inclined to do so.”
“Pete,” I said, “maybe we should tell her about—”
I didn’t finish the sentence, because a panicky voice shouted down the beach, “Madelyn! Where are you?”
“It’s Benita,” I said. Pete ducked into the trees and I added to Madelyn, “Will you take her back to the house? Please? There’s something I have to talk over with Pete.”
Madelyn immediately turned and walked toward Benita. I heard them greet each other, then turn as though they were going toward the house. Their voices drifted away, and again the beach was silent.
“Come out. It’s safe,” I said to Pete.
He joined me on the sand. For a change, he was serious. “I think we’re going to have to get off this island pretty quickly, Andy. The bad guys are going to start closing in.”
I dropped cross-legged to the sand. Pete sat down beside me. “Aunt Madelyn said something about Kurt,” I told him.
“She doesn’t like him either?”
“Listen to me. It may be important. After I told her about Aldo she blamed Kurt for not doing the thorough job of investigating he was hired to do.”
“That’s important?”
Other things I remembered began to crowd into my mind. It was like opening a spigot. As the idea began to pour out it moved so quickly that it scared me. I took hold of Pete’s hand. I needed to hang on to someone. “What if Kurt knew about Aldo’s criminal affiliations? What if they worked this out together?”
Pete’s eyes grew wide. “He’d be up to doing something like that.”
“I remember that Madelyn, Benita, and Mr. Granakee were upset that others had been invited, but Aldo wasn’t. What if he knew the others would be there, because Kurt had told him?”
“Do you think they planned to kill the judge?”
“I’m afraid so. Maybe Kurt stripped the covering from the wires on the cord. Maybe Aldo did. But once the judge was dead, they’d grab the artifact and leave the island. That’s why the powerboat was hidden in the cove.”
The Island of Dangerous Dreams Page 13