“Tammy Auerbach,” James explained.
“The teenaged daughter?” I guessed, glancing in the direction of Annelise’s room.
“That’s right,” said James. “Tammy didn’t like being cooped up with her little brothers—what fifteen-year-old girl does?—so she started hanging out with a crowd of crazies in Bluebird.”
“Amanda Barrow’s crowd of crazies?” I said, intrigued.
James nodded. “Tammy Auerbach thought every word that came out of that fool woman’s mouth was the gospel truth, so when Amanda told her about the curse, she took it to heart.”
“So Tammy Auerbach believed in the curse,” I said, half to myself.
“Tammy Auerbach would’ve believed that cows laid eggs if Amanda Barrow said it was so.” James’s face darkened. “When I got wind of what was going on, I went into town to tell Amanda to lay off the kid, but the damage had already been done. Tammy was having trouble sleeping, and Mrs. Auerbach started acting all weird. She had me check the plumbing and the floorboards in the family suite.”
“Why?” I asked.
“No idea,” answered James. “Everything was fine in the family suite, and I told her so, but next thing I knew, she upped stakes and took off out of here.”
“She left some clothes and other things behind,” I said. “Why didn’t you ship it to her?”
“She didn’t tell me to,” said James, “so I thought she’d be coming back. She didn’t, though. I haven’t seen or heard from the Auerbachs since Christmas. Rumor has it that they’re thinking of selling the Aerie.”
I suppressed the urge to confirm or deny the rumor and said instead, “You must have wondered about the curse.”
“I did,” said James. “I don’t believe in it any more than I believe pigs can fly, but once I’d seen with my own eyes how it could affect people, I got interested in finding out more about it. With the Auerbachs gone and nobody else coming, there wasn’t much else to do. I spent a fair amount of time in Bluebird, asking folk about the curse. One guy in town took a sort of ghoulish interest in the subject, so I spent a lot of time listening to him.”
“Was it Dick Major?” I ventured. “I heard that he was harassing you.”
“Dick thought he was harassing me,” said James, “but I was pumping him for information. When I finished with the folk in Bluebird, I drove out to the ranch to find out if Brett Whitcombe knew anything. Brett’s a good guy, but he didn’t want to talk about the curse, so I went to the historical society to find out more. I struck pay dirt there. Have you met Mrs. Blanding, the pastor’s wife?”
“I have,” I said.
“She can talk the hind leg off a bull elk once she gets going,” said James, shaking his head, “but she knows her stuff. She loaned me all kinds of old photographs and newspaper clippings. They’re in a box in the library. I’m planning to return it to the parsonage on my way back to Denver.”
“There’s no need,” I said. “Mrs. Blanding is coming here for lunch today. She’ll take the box with her when she leaves. I’ll explain why you didn’t return it. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“Thanks. Give her my thanks, too, will you?” James finished his coffee and took the mug to the dishwasher.
I followed him into the kitchen. His mention of the gray archival box had reminded me of another box—the wooden crate Toby had discovered in the caretaker’s apartment—and another question. I wanted to know what James had done with the tools he’d left in the crate. Had he used them to steal gold from his employer? Or had he used them to find out what had caused the Lord Stuart Mine to collapse? After a brief inner debate, I decided to tackle the issue head on.
“James,” I said, leaning on the breakfast bar, “while you were investigating the curse, did you try to break into the Lord Stuart Mine?”
James turned toward me, grinning sheepishly. “I guess you found my tools, huh? Well, yes, I did open the big steel door Mr. Auerbach put on the mine entrance. As I said, with no family and no guests to cater to, there wasn’t much else to do. I’d learned an awful lot about the Lord Stuart and here I was, living right on top of it, so I figured, why not take a look-see?”
“Did you find gold?” I asked, leaning forward.
James gave me a quizzical look, then cocked his head toward the forest beyond the breakfast deck. “Come with me and I’ll show you what I found.”
One part of me watched in startled dismay while the rest of me responded like a cat to curiosity’s call.
“Lead on,” I said.
Twenty
We didn’t have far to go, which was fortunate since I was wearing sneakers instead of my trusty hiking boots. The entrance to the Lord Stuart Mine was no more than fifty feet from the back wall of the third guest suite, but it was so well hidden by trees, shrubs, and boulders that I would never have spotted it if James hadn’t pushed branches aside and led me to it.
A square arch some ten feet tall and eight feet wide had been carved into the side of the mountain. Within the arch, Danny Auerbach’s team of engineers had installed a steel door painted in a swirly camouflage pattern. The door’s left edge had been bent outward in uneven scallops, and it had no handle, only a heavy-duty hasp from which hung the broken remains of a once imposing padlock.
“I smashed the lock with the sledgehammer,” said James. “I would have replaced it with a new one if I hadn’t left in such a hurry.”
I nearly swooned at the thought of what might have happened if the twins had discovered the metal door with the broken lock.
“Don’t worry,” I said unevenly. “I’ll replace it.”
“You don’t have to,” James told me. “I managed to pry the door open with the crow bar, but after that…”
He stepped forward, slipped his hands into two of the larger scallops, and heaved with all his might, but he could only pull the steel door open a foot or two before it came up against a boulder. He then stood back and gestured for me to take a look inside.
I stepped over a low shrub, ducked under a branch, and crept up to peer timorously into the Lord Stuart Mine. I expected to see a yawning, bat-and-rat-infested hellhole. I saw instead a slightly chipped concrete wall that completely blocked the entrance.
“But…but…” I sputtered. “Where’s the mine?”
“Somewhere behind the concrete plug.” James tapped the wall with his knuckles. “I thought I might break through it with the pickax, but I gave up pretty quick. The angle makes it hard to take a good swing, and only Mr. Auerbach knows how thick the plug is. He made damned sure his sons couldn’t get into the mine, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry about your twins.”
I pressed my palms against the cool concrete and nodded. “Since Rob and Will are only five years old and not quite as strong as you are, James, I’d have to agree.” I withdrew my hands and heaved a little sigh. “I have to confess that I’m a tiny bit disappointed. I was kind of hoping to see a glint of gold in the darkness.”
“If any gold’s left inside the Lord Stuart, it’s out of our reach,” said James. “But you should watch yourself, Lori. Gold fever’s a nasty bug. You don’t want to get bit by it.”
I moved out of his way, he pushed the door shut, and we walked back to the great room in the Aerie. Since it was already eleven o’clock, I made a detour to the kitchen to put the lasagna in the oven, then helped James carry the wooden crate to his truck. After we’d loaded the crate, James closed the tailgate and turned to survey the Aerie.
“I liked it here,” he said. “One day Janice and me and the kid are going to have a cabin in the mountains. It won’t be as fancy as this one, but it’ll be ours.”
“With scenery like this, you don’t need fancy,” I said, sweeping a hand through the air to indicate the lake, the forest, the snowcapped peaks, and the dazzling blue sky. “Are you sure you can’t stay for lunch? There’s plenty of food and you’re more than welcome. I know for a fact that your replacement, Toby Cooper, would love to meet you.”
�
�Thanks, but I’d better be going,” said James. “I left Janice with one of her girlfriends, but she gets fretful if I’m gone too long.”
“You’re a lucky man,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You have so much to look forward to. Give Janice my best.”
“I’ll do that, Lori.” James climbed into the cab of his truck, started the engine, and drove down the steep lane toward the dirt road that would take him back to the highway.
It wasn’t until the truck was out of sight that I remembered the lantern I’d left in the library. I felt a stab of guilt for forgetting to give it to James, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I went inside to make the artichoke salad and set the dining room table for lunch.
While I puttered from one task to another, I reran the past hour in my mind, rehearsing the revelations I planned to share with Bill, Aunt Dimity, Toby, and Rose Blanding. I was fairly certain that I could rely on Rose to share my news with every living soul in and around Bluebird.
The fishermen returned from Willie Brown Creek at half past eleven, crowing over the trout they’d caught and thrown back. Rob and Will were wet, muddy, and in dire need of baths, so I had no chance to speak privately with Annelise or to inform Toby of James Blackwell’s unexpected visit. While Toby put the salad and the bread on the table, filled water glasses, and added ice to the sun tea, Annelise and I whisked the boys first into the bathtub, then into their room to dress them in clean, dry clothes.
I ran back to the kitchen to check on the lasagna, and Annelise brought the boys and their buffalo into the great room to play quietly—and cleanly—while we waited for the doorbell to ring. At precisely twelve o’clock, it did.
Rose Blanding stared avidly around her as I ushered her into the great room and introduced her to Annelise, Will, and Rob.
“How lucky you are to have such a lovely place to stay,” she said to the boys.
“We slept in a bunk bed at the ranch,” Rob informed her airily.
“And we saw two snakes,” said Will.
“But they weren’t rattlers,” said Rob, with a wistful sigh.
The twins continued to extoll the ranch’s virtues while we ate, but Rose seemed to be preoccupied with the Aerie’s. She appeared to listen attentively to the boys’ chatter, but her eyes roved around the room as if she were memorizing every detail of her surroundings. I was confident that a minute description of the Aerie’s interior would find its way onto the local grapevine before sunset.
After we’d finished the meal, I left Rose to wander at will while Toby and I cleared the table and Annelise took the boys outside to hunt for fossils. Rose seemed captivated by the objects displayed in the rustic cabinet. She was still peering at them when I joined her.
“The twins took naps when we first got here,” I told her. “But they don’t seem to need them anymore.”
“They’re acclimatized,” Rose observed knowledgeably. “It’s amazing how quickly children adjust to the altitude.” She favored me with an inquisitive, sidelong look. “Did I see James Blackwell’s truck pass by the parsonage this morning?”
“James Blackwell!” Toby exclaimed from the kitchen. He threw down a dish towel and hurried over to where Rose and I were standing. “Did he ring the bell this morning? Did you get a chance to speak with him, Lori? Did you find out if he”—he glanced at Rose and finished cautiously—“did what I thought he did?”
“Let’s all have a seat,” I said. “James’s visit was extremely informative. I have a lot to tell both of you.”
Toby perched on the hearth ledge while Rose and I made ourselves comfortable on the sofa. They listened raptly while I told them a slightly abbreviated version of James Blackwell’s story. I enjoyed shooting a significant look at Toby when I described James’s unsuccessful assault on the Lord Stuart Mine. I had no intention of discussing Toby’s unworthy suspicions in front of Rose, but I relished the prospect of forcing him to admit—after Rose had gone—that he’d been wrong to accuse his predecessor of theft.
Rose was shocked to learn that Amanda Barrow had played such a pivotal role in the Auerbachs’ departure, but Toby wasn’t even mildly surprised.
“Amanda tried to pull the same stunt yesterday,” he informed Rose indignantly. “She tried to use the curse to scare Lori.”
“But it’s nonsense,” Rose protested. “The curse is utter nonsense.”
“So is everything else Amanda does,” said Toby, “but it doesn’t stop people from believing in her.”
Rose’s gray eyes narrowed. “I’ll have to have a little talk with Amanda. I don’t mind it when she practices her profession on adults, but when it comes to frightening an impressionable teenaged girl…” She gazed fiercely into the middle distance, then cleared her throat and turned a much gentler visage toward me. “I’m sorry for the Auerbachs, of course, but they’ll be all right. People with money always are. James, on the other hand, may find himself struggling to make ends meet once the baby arrives. I’m worried about him.”
“I am, too,” I admitted. “What if he can’t find a job after the baby’s born? Danny Auerbach won’t hire him back.”
“Leave it to me,” said Rose. “I’ll think of something. James was well liked in Bluebird. I may be able to find a way to bring him back—with his family, of course.”
“That’d be great,” I said. “He loves it up here.”
Rose folded her hands in her lap. “You certainly had an interesting morning, Lori. Thank you so much for telling me about James. The lasagna was delicious, by the way. And your sons are adorable, so big for their age and so articulate.”
Rose added a few more compliments before it dawned on me that she was waiting to be taken on the promised tour.
“Would you like to see the rest of the Aerie?” I asked.
“I would,” she replied instantly.
I took Rose Blanding from one end of the Aerie to the other, leaving out only the caretaker’s apartment and cleverly making the library our last stop. I wanted her full attention when I asked her about the photographs in the gray archival box.
Rose’s face lit up when we entered the library. She walked straight to the shelves to look over the books and uttered soft cries of delight when she found ones she knew to be rare or out of print.
“I realize that envy is a sin,” she said, sighing deeply, “but I can’t help being envious of Mrs. Auerbach. Her collection is truly priceless.”
“Here’s your box, Mrs. Blanding,” said Toby, drawing her over to the banker’s desk. “Lori and I were looking through it last night. We wondered if you could identify any of the men in the pictures.”
“I can identify all of them,” Rose assured us, opening the box.
My eyes met Toby’s over Rose’s bowed head, but we looked away quickly, suppressing smiles.
“James Blackwell was interested in the Lord Stuart mining disaster,” said Rose, “so I gave him contemporary accounts of it: articles from the local newspaper, photocopies of relevant correspondence, and so on.”
“Toby and I are interested in the photographs,” I reiterated, to keep Rose from going off on a tangent.
“The group portrait is the key,” she explained. She lifted the large photograph out of the box and showed it to Toby and me. “Every man in the photograph, but one, died in the disaster.”
“Oh, my gosh,” I said, peering down at the proud faces of the doomed men. “I should have guessed. Twenty red granite headstones in the cemetery, twenty-one miners in the photograph.”
“I included an individual portrait of each man in the group portrait.” Rose passed the group portrait to Toby and raised a handful of photographs from the box, fanning them out like playing cards. “I also included a portrait of Cyril Pennyfeather, whose obelisk we saw in the cemetery.” She plucked one photograph from the rest and handed it to me, then put the others back into the box.
A wave of affection tinged with sorrow swept over me me as I took in Cyril’s narrow chest and shoulders, his wavy blond h
air, and the pince-nez perched on the bridge of his rather prominent nose. He was dressed in a serviceable tweed suit and held an open book in one long-fingered hand, as if he’d looked up from his reading to have his picture taken. He stood at a slight angle to the camera, before a backdrop that included a classical bust on a truncated Doric column. If I hadn’t already known he was a schoolmaster, I would have guessed it.
“He has such intelligent eyes,” I murmured.
“He was, by all accounts, a highly intelligent man,” Rose said. “He could speak French, German, Latin, and Greek, and he knew most of Shakespeare’s works by heart.”
“Macbeth,” I murmured, returning the photograph to the box. “Act two, Scene two.”
Toby was still examining the group portrait. He handed it back to Rose and asked, “Which one of the men survived?”
A shiver traveled up my spine as Rose pointed unerringly to the wild-eyed, bearded man in the back row.
“He brought water to the other miners,” she said. “He was refilling his can when the mine collapsed and so escaped unharmed. His name was Ludovic Magerowski.”
“I knew it!” I cried, as Cyril Pennyfeather’s words came rushing back to me. “I knew he was crazy.”
“How did you know?” Rose asked in mild surprise.
I blinked at her, then said quickly, “His eyes. He has crazy eyes.”
“You do judge men by their eyes, Lori,” Rose commented, looking amused. She turned back to the photograph. “But you were right about Cyril Pennyfeather, and you’re right again about Ludovic. He was deranged. That’s why they wouldn’t allow him to handle tools or to have anything to do with explosives. No one trusted Ludo to do anything but deliver water.”
Rose went on to describe Ludovic Magerowski’s life. Her account tallied with the one Cyril Pennyfeather had written in Aunt Dimity’s blue journal, but Rose had one enormous advantage over Cyril—she knew what had happened after the disaster.
“Rumors flew,” she said. “The most popular one was that Ludo had sabotaged the mine to exact revenge from Emerson Auerbach for cheating him out of a fortune.” She rifled through the box and came up with a frail newspaper clipping encased in a protective clear plastic envelope. “As you can see, Ludo didn’t help matters. He gave an interview to the Bluebird Herald in which he claimed to have special powers.”
Aunt Dimity Goes West Page 19