"Mrs. Fromsette lives there," Seymour replied. "She's too nice to steal electricity."
"Mrs. Fromsette lives next door to you?" I said.
"Yeah," Seymour said.
"I can see a clear trail here," Leo said, pointing. "Leads from the Fromsette place right up to this folly thing. Come on, Seymour, let's have a look inside, get to the bottom of this power mystery."
Leo moved through the shattered arch to the folly's interior. Seymour started to follow.
"No, Seymour!" I hissed. "Don't follow him in there!"
Just then I noticed the dark figure that climbed out of the parked sedan wasn't standing by the side of the road any longer. He was moving across the mansion's grounds, heading right for us.
"Seymour!" I whispered. "Listen to me!"
"Pen, what the heck's the matter?"
"Look!" I pointed at the figure of the man now running full speed toward us.
At last, Seymour appeared alarmed. "Stop!" he shouted. "Who are you?!"
The man shined a flashlight on us. The bright light blinded me. I screamed.
"Freeze! Everyone freeze!" shouted the man. "Hands where I can see them!"
"Eddie?" I called, holding my hand against the bright light beam. "Is that you?"
"Of course, Pen. You called me, said Seymour was in danger!"
"I thought you'd be in uniform! I thought you were coming in a patrol car with a siren!"
"You caught me off-duty. And from the sound of your call I figured a siren might put you and Seymour in jeopardy."
"What the hell's going on?" Leo demanded, finally coming back out of the folly.
"You tell us," Eddie said. His gun was now trained on Leo.
I closed my eyes, took a breath, and began to explain. When I finished, Eddie lowered his weapon and said—
"Leo didn't sabotage Seymour's brakes, Pen. I know that for a fact."
"I know something else for a fact," Leo said before I could ask how Eddie knew. "Something that looks criminal. You want to see?"
Eddie nodded. "Show me."
The grounds were a mess inside the tumbled-down walls of the folly. Leaves, debris, dirt, and dried vegetation lay in heaps and gathered in corners. Then Leo's heavy boots clunked hollowly and he played his beam on the ground at his feet.
"There's a trapdoor here," he said and pulled the metal handle. The door opened easily on well-oiled hinges. Behind it was a flight of worn stone steps, which led to an underground tunnel.
"Holy hidden cave!" Seymour cried.
We followed Leo down the steps and into the underground tunnel, which led to a secret room under the mansion. It was a cramped space, no bigger than a walk-in closet, and it was filled with state-of-the-art electronics devices including three surveillance screens, a sound system, CD and DVD players, all operated by a complex control panel.
"What the hell is this?" Seymour demanded.
Leo touched the control panel and the television screens sprang to life with black-and-white images of the mansion's interior. "Hey, that's my living room!" Seymour said. "And there's the bedroom and the hall."
I touched another button and the secret room echoed with the same sobbing and rushing sounds Seymour and I heard inside the mansion the other night. I quickly switched the CD player off.
Seymour pushed a button labeled VAPOR and we watched the den inside Todd Mansion fill with fog. I toggled the switch beside it, and the flickering image of Gideon Wexler appeared on the surveillance screen. We watched the ghost float across the room and then vanish.
"A projector's hidden somewhere in the den," Leo explained. "That's just an old newsreel image of some guy projected onto the mist to make it look like a ghost."
"Where did this stuff come from?" I wondered aloud.
"From my store," Leo said, frowning. "I special ordered this equipment last year for one of my best customers."
"You mean Mrs. Fromsette?" I asked.
Leo shook his head. "It was Jim Wolfe."
Eddie laughed.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"Leo just blew my big reveal."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded.
"Remember those prints I lifted from the undercarriage of Seymour's VW? Well, I got a beauty of a thumbprint off the brake cylinder that was punctured and the state just confirmed the match. Apparently Mr. Wolfe has a prior arrest and his prints were on file. I was going to take him in anyway."
TEN MINUTES LATER, we were back inside the mansion. Once Leo knew what to look for, the electronics hidden throughout the house were easy to locate.
The smoke machine was tucked away in the attic, the mist pumped into the den through a pipe in the chandelier. The projector was in the light fixture, too. The cold spot was created by a hidden air-conditioning unit, and dozens of tiny speakers were secreted in the house, four of them inside the columns of the four-poster bed.
"That's why you heard the noise before I did, Pen," Seymour said. The four of us were standing in the master bedroom. "Those speakers directed the noise right to your ears."
"This is so twisted," I said. "All these devices just to drive poor Miss Todd crazy."
"It takes days of work to set this stuff up," Leo said. "And you can't do it in secret."
"Jim Wolfe had almost two weeks to do it!" I recalled the story Mr. Stoddard had told me in his Millstone office. "After his backhoe 'accidentally' ruptured the gas main on Larchmont late last summer, Miss Todd was evacuated.
While she was suffering a mini-breakdown in a Newport hotel, Wolfe was installing the equipment to push her over the edge."
Leo shook his head. "Two weeks isn't enough time to dig that tunnel or build a secret room."
"I think the house's previous owner, Gideon Wexler, built all of that back in the 1940s," I said, remembering Jack's case and Fiona's research. "I'm betting he tricked his followers using the same basic ploys, just with older equipment."
Seymour scratched his head. "What did Jim Wolfe expect to gain from this stunt?"
"Wolfe had to be working with someone or for someone," I said. "Most likely Mrs. Fromsette."
"Why not the Lindsey-Tilton group?" Seymour asked.
"The haunting was too personal," I said. "The news-reel footage of Wexler tells me someone who knew Miss Todd intimately was involved. It has to be Mrs. Fromsette. Remember that trail leading to her house? It wasn't overgrown. Someone's been using it."
Eddie frowned and folded his arms. "And how are we going to prove that she paid off Wolfe?"
I thought about the vicious tricks Mrs. Fromsette pulled on her sister and decided the woman needed a taste of her own medicine.
"I have an idea, but I'm going to need help to pull it off."
"What are you thinking, Pen?" Eddie asked. "I'm thinking that turnabout is fair play."
IT WAS NEARLY three A.M. when we finally made the call using Buy the Book's telephone. Mrs. Fromsette's phone rang once, twice, three times.
"You're sure this is the right number?" I whispered.
Seymour nodded. "April told me that she and her mother have separate lines. This is Mrs. F's private line."
The phone clicked. "Hello?" said Mrs. Fromsette's sleepy voice.
I hit the switch on Sadie's recorder and the tape Leo hastily edited worked like a charm. "Why are you tormenting me?" the voice of Miss Todd asked, seemingly from beyond the grave.
"Who—who is this?" Mrs. Fromsette demanded. She sounded wide awake now.
I lifted the Pause button and let the tape continue to play.
"Why are you tormenting me?" Miss Todd's voice repeated.
"Timothea? Is that you? But how can it be?" Mrs. Fromsette's voice was tight with fear.
Once again, I lifted the Pause button.
"Why can't you leave me in peace?" Miss Todd's recorded voice demanded.
Leo did his best to eliminate background noise. He wasn't entirely successful, but the rushing sounds that remained were eerie and added to the overall effect.
<
br /> Now I turned up the volume. "WHY ARE YOU TORMENTING ME?" Timothea's voice boomed.
"It wasn't me!" Mrs. Fromsette shouted. "It was April!"
April, I thought. April Briggs?!
"It was my daughter and that man—"
I glanced at Eddie. "That man?" I mouthed.
"April wrecked her marriage over her affair with him— that man Jim Wolfe," Mrs. Fromsette went on. "Now the two want your house!"
I hit the tape player again.
"Why?" Miss Todd's recorded voice now asked. "Why? Why? Why?"
"April believed that despite what happened between us, you'd still leave me the house. That's why she did it."
"Why? Why? Why?" Timothea's voice repeated.
"Anything I inherited, April knew I'd share with her. It's not her fault what happened. That man Jim Wolfe put her under his spell!"
"WHY ARE YOU TORMENTING ME?" Timothea's voice boomed.
"I told you, it wasn't me! I'm so sorry, Timothea. Arthur tried to tell me what April was planning. He tried to stop her. Then he had his accident, and after that, the will to care about anything anymore went out of me ..."
The woman's voice trailed off. I hadn't played the tape for a few moments, so I could hear her torrent of words. Now, in the silence that followed, Mrs. Fromsette began to become suspicious.
"Timothea? Are you there? Is that really you?"
I hung up and dropped back in my chair. Eddie and Leo visibly relaxed, too, but not Seymour.
"April was behind all this?" he said. "But she told me she liked me!"
Leo grunted. "Women are fickle, Tarnish. Get used to it."
I rolled my eyes. "Seymour, you said April has her own phone line, right?"
Seymour's brows knitted. "Yeah. So what?"
"So I have another idea," I replied, thinking about what Jack once told me: Criminals always give themselves away. You just need to set up some bait and wait for them to take it.
"But first we have to set some things up back at the mansion," I told the men. "And, Eddie, we're going to need a little more help, too."
IT WAS NEARLY dawn when the mansion's doorbell rang, but it was still dark enough for our purposes. At the sound of the regal bing-bong, a nervous Seymour jumped out of the love seat.
"Calm down," I told him. "You know what to do."
Seymour nodded, then hurried to the front door. I stayed in the den with our other guest, close enough to eavesdrop on the conversation in the foyer.
"What's going on, Seymour?" I heard April ask. "You sounded frantic on the telephone."
"I'm sorry to bother you so late. I mean, so early," he said, locking the door behind her. 'Things got really weird around here, and I didn't know who else to call."
"You can always count on me," April replied, her tone sincere. Then, after a pause: "You said you found something really valuable in the house. Is that right?"
"Yeah. Come into the salon and I'll show you."
April rounded the corner a moment later, and stopped dead, her beautiful turquoise eyes wide at the sight of Jim Wolfe and me sitting on the couch. The man was still wearing the same clothes from the Quibblers meeting, but they were rumpled now and he smelled like a gin mill.
"You should have told me you had guests, Seymour. I'm hardly dressed to meet polite company."
After Seymour's call, April had pulled a pair of tight jeans over her long legs, stretched a T-shirt, sans bra, over her model-slender torso. Despite her haste, I noticed the woman had taken the time to fix her sleek, sun-kissed hair and perfectly apply her makeup.
"Hello, April," I said, rising. "How have you been since the seance the other night? I was worried about you."
She didn't answer. Instead, her turquoise gaze shifted to Jim Wolfe, who refused to look up or even acknowledge her presence.
"Who's your other guest?" she asked.
"Oh, come on, April," I said. "You know Jim Wolfe. In fact, you used to do Jim's bookkeeping when you lived in Boston."
April shook her head. "No, you're mistaken. I never met him before."
"In fact, Jim was just telling us a funny story about how you convinced him to sabotage Seymour's brakes the night you learned that Mr. Tarnish here inherited Todd Mansion instead of your mother."
"I'm leaving." April took a single step and bumped into a wall of Seymour. "Sit down," he said, backing her into a chair.
"No, I—"
"Sit down!" Seymour barked, and she dropped into the seat.
"What's this all about?" April demanded, submerging her obvious fear with some quickly mustered arrogance.
"It's about murder, Mrs. Briggs," I said. "The murder of your aunt, Miss Todd. It's also about Timothea's restless spirit, which still haunts this house."
April's glossy mouth twisted into a disgusted sneer. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I saw the ghost, April," Jim Wolfe said, speaking for the first time. "Miss Todd is with us now. She won't rest until you admit your guilt."
April's eyes narrowed. "This is some sort of sick joke, isn't it?"
Just in time, I heard a rushing sound, like a wind blasting through the room. Yet we felt no current of air and no curtain stirred.
"What's that noise?" April asked.
Jim Wolfe met her nervous gaze. "She's coming," he said ominously.
"Who's coming?" April's voice cracked.
"Why, Miss Todd, of course," I said.
"What!" she cried, her voice just on the edge of panic.
The lamps in the room flickered and then went out. Now the crimson blaze in the fireplace was the only illumination.
"Miss Todd wants you, April," Seymour said. "She told me so herself. Timothea won't rest until you confess your crime."
The howling intensified, and over the noise we heard the sound of a woman's sobs.
"Look! It's Miss Todd's ghost!" Jim Wolfe shouted, pointing to the staircase.
April whirled and her eyes went wide when she saw the silhouette floating down the steps. She gasped. "It can't be."
"It's her, I tell you!" Wolfe cried. "Look at the clothes. The tiara on her head! It's the ghost of Miss Todd!"
On cue, an eerie, scarlet glow illuminated the figure on the staircase. Not enough light to reveal any detail, just enough to give the impression of a supernatural presence.
Jim Wolfe shrank back on the couch. Then he clutched his throat with both hands. "She ... she's killing me," he rasped. "April!"
"Jim, this is a stupid trick!" April cried. "Can't you see that?"
"My heart," Wolfe gasped, reaching into his jacket as if to clutch his chest. "You have to tell them or I'll die!" "Jim! Snap out of it!" April shouted. "Confess!" he demanded.
"What's happening to you?" April howled. She tried to get out of her chair but Seymour pushed her back down again.
"No," she rasped, staring in horror as Jim Wolfe began to choke and cough. Then he brought his hands out of his jacket and covered his mouth with them.
"He needs help!" April shouted at Seymour. "Call an ambulance!"
Seymour held April back as she watched Wolfe wail and convulse and slump back onto the couch. His hands dropped limply to his side, and bloodred gore gushed out of the man's mouth and rolled down his chest.
"No! No! Help him! Please!" April shouted.
"You know what the spirit wants!" I said. "We know already, April! Jim told us!"
"Yes! All right! Yes!" April yelled. "I killed Miss Todd. I used the stuff in the secret room under the house to frighten her to death. Now please, get Jim an ambulance!"
Suddenly the room was filled with light. April jumped up and lurched toward her lover. Strong hands reached out and grabbed her before she could make it to Wolfe's side.
"What! Who?" April sputtered.
Eddie Franzetti snapped handcuffs around the struggling woman's wrists. Chief Ciders stepped out of the darkness, joined by Deputy Bull McCoy from the steps.
"April Briggs, you're under arrest for the murder of Miss Timothea Todd. You hav
e the right to remain silent..."
As Ciders finished reading April her rights, Jim Wolfe opened one eye, then both. He glared at Eddie. "Am I done?’
Eddie shook his head. "Not by a long shot. We're going to book you, too—and get a statement."
Jim Wolfe smacked his blood-red lips and ran the back of his hand along his gore-soaked mouth. "What is this stuff anyway?"
"My family's pizza sauce," Eddie replied. "Delicious, isn't it?"
"Come on," the chief said to Wolfe.
Sheepishly, the construction hunk rose and Bull McCoy cuffed him. Without an escort, Jim simply followed Chief Ciders out the front door.
I stepped under the chandelier and gave a thumbs-up to the surveillance camera. "Good job, Leo. You can come in now." Then I faced Eddie. "You were great, too. I couldn't have done this without you."
Eddie smiled. "Face it, baby, we make a good team."
My eyes widened. "What did you say?"
But Eddie was interrupted by Bull McCoy. "We found Wolfe right where you said he'd be, Mrs. McClure. He was boozing it up at the girly bar with Bud Napp."
"Oh, jeez," I muttered. "Do me a favor and don't tell my aunt Sadie about the girly bar part."
Your auntie's been around the block, doll. She don't need mollycoddling.
"Jack!" I shouted in my head. The sweet breeze was back! I couldn't believe it. His presence was swirling around my body, brushing coolly past my cheek. "You're here! You didn't fade away!"
You ought to know me better than that, baby. I always watch my partner's back.
"Oh, yeah? Since when? I've been trying to reach you all night!"
And I was with you all night, too, honey. Came awake when all those "Quibbling" friends of yours were spouting theories.
The Ghost and the Haunted Mansion Page 26