Secret Passages

by R D Hathaway

  Mary’s eyes closed and she rested for a moment.

  Rennie sat up again. “Mary, this is Rennie. Who left and what happened?”

  Mary’s expression became serious. “My daddy boxed my brother around once too often, I guess. I heard my mother and my daddy get into a big fight. She always favored the boy. I was my daddy’s little princess. He said the boy should get out and start making his way like a man.”

  “How old was your brother?” Angie asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe thirteen. People didn’t expect him to make it. My mother cried and yelled. Then it got quiet. It always got quiet after they would fight.”

  Mary turned her gaze to the window. “Matt didn’t leave that time, but he did later. He went to some school, I think. That’s when my daddy …” Mary stopped and stared at the ceiling.

  “Your daddy what, Mary?” Rennie whispered.

  A tear slipped from Mary’s eye. “Oh, nothing. They’re dead, you know. Both of them.”

  Rennie’s instincts urged her on. “Mary, do you remember how or when your parents passed on?”

  Mary’s lips quivered.

  Angie noticed several pillows stacked on a corner table and got one that looked fresh. “Mary, would you like a sip of water and an extra pillow?”

  The old woman’s face beamed. After she was tilted up and had a drink, she spoke with more comfort. “What were we talking about? Oh yes, my parents. My daddy died one night. I don’t know how or why. Some say it was a business deal gone wrong. I was no longer home, so I don’t know. My mother died of some sickness, not long ago. Maybe old age. Just like me.”

  “Mary, tell us a little about your life,” Angie asked.

  Mary gave a mischievous grin. “It was quite a time. I was real popular with the boys. Say, are you Americans? Your American boys liked me when they were here for the big war.”

  Mary’s face hardened. “I married a couple of blokes, but they weren’t gentle. I was my daddy’s little princess, but not to those men.”

  Mary snorted a puff of determination. “My daddy taught me to look out for myself.”

  Rennie tilted her head. “Mary, how did your daddy teach you?”

  The old woman’s face became dark, almost fierce looking. Her nostrils flared. Her breathing became stronger. “I’m not going to talk about that. I told my mother, and that’s when everything happened. I left and lived on my own after that.”

  “Mary,” Angie asked, “Did you and your brother stay in touch?”

  “No, he wouldn’t have nothing to do with me. He got all educated and upper class, just like his mother wanted. Then, after that trip, he didn’t have much interest in me again. He’d give me money now and then. That’s what older brothers do, I told him. A few times, he got me out of the jail.”

  “Mary, what trip?” Rennie asked with a strong voice.

  “The one my mother and brother took to America. Can you imagine? Is that how you learned about my mother?”

  Mary lifted her head off the pillow and looked at both women.

  Rennie was breathless and couldn’t answer.

  Angie helped with a response. “We were actually looking into something else, and we came across your mother’s name. Did you ever hear of a man by the name of Matthias Justus? He was a professor from the town in America where we are from.”

  Mary squinted and nodded her head slowly. “I heard that name. Once, my mother and my daddy got loud in another fight. My mother said that name. That was it! Daddy knocked her down and went out the door so fast he nearly took the wall down. Then, mother and I got into a big fight. I told her she should treat my father better. He was the Duke. I told her he loved me more than her. So, she should be careful or she would be out, just like my brother.”

  Mary paused again with a hard look. “He loved me more,” she whispered. “I left not long after that.”

  Mary closed her eyes and seemed to rest. Rennie quietly struggled to understand Mary’s story as Angie drifted over to the window.

  Rennie got up and looked down at the old woman. “Thank you, Mary. We appreciate your time and sharing your thoughts with us.”

  Rennie paused and smiled. “Your daddy would still think of you as his little princess. God loves you,” she whispered.”

  Without opening her eyes, Mary smiled and lifted her hand to wave goodbye.

  As they walked away from the bed, Angie stopped and went back. She removed several bills from her purse, rolled them up, and slipped the money into Mary’s hand. The old woman clenched them tightly.

  Out in the hallway, they looked back at Mary.

  “Poor thing,” Angie murmured.

  They walked quietly for two blocks and then waved down a taxi. Safely in the backseat, Rennie said, “I think I need to rest for awhile. Is that okay with you?”

  “Yeah, we need a break. Let’s meet up for dinner later.”

  Rennie couldn’t respond. She had not expected how emotionally confusing this trip would be. As a reporter, she had believed that more facts revealed more truth. That wasn’t working in this case. She felt more determined to find Matthew and hear his story.

  As she looked around, she saw short distance behind their cab a black sedan following them from the nursing home to their hotel.

  PART SEVEN

  London, UK

  VII - 1

  Rennie awoke, confused with the sound of a ringing telephone. The clock indicated 8:04 a.m. She grabbed the phone.

  “Hello, this is Rennie.”

  “Hello, Ms. Haran, this is Joshua Ramsey, one of your researchers from the University of London. I must apologize to you for this early call.”

  “No, it’s alright.” Rennie stifled a yawn. “What happened? I mean, what can I do for you Joshua?”

  “Shall I call back in a little while? I imagine this early in your trip you may be a bit tired.”

  “No, I’m fine. I appreciate your calling. I need to see you and Tiffini.”

  “Yes, we would like that, as well. This has turned out to be quite an interesting project.”

  “How about this morning? We don’t have much time.”

  “We can do that. It appears your hotel is close to us at the University. Miss McGrady had provided the number where you would be staying, and the hotel switchboard offered your lodging name and location. It is most convenient.”

  “Well, how about nine o’clock?”

  “Brilliant. I shall contact Tiffini and see if that works for her. At the very least, I will meet with you and share the latest information I have obtained over the last few days. I apologize if this is intrusive, but I would be interested in knowing the purpose of your investigation. Its disparate elements are most intriguing.”

  “Sure, Joshua, I’ll fill you in. It’s innocent really. We’re just stumbling forward, and you’re helping cushion the fall.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. There’s a coffee shop a short walk from your hotel. Perhaps, we could meet there.”

  “Great. Just hearing the word ‘coffee’ has got me going.

  After discussing the arrangements and hanging up, Rennie swung her legs out of bed and ran her fingers through her hair. Eager to get into the day, she called Angie’s room.

  “Hey, I got a call from Joshua, one of the researchers. He’s going to meet us at nine o’clock at a coffee shop near here. He’s got more info for us. Tiffini might be able to make it, too. We’ve got to move fast. Can we meet downstairs in forty minutes? He said it was nearby.”

  “Yeah, I guess I can do that.” Angie replied with a yawn.

  At 8:45, Rennie paced the small, hotel reception area. She set down a light travel bag filled with her notes and wandered about, admiring the courtyard in the back of the hotel. The furnishings and structure fit well with the classic Georgian facade of the building, combining rich wood trim, floral
wallpapers, deep carpets, and flowers in vases. For Rennie, it felt like England. The cool, quiet breeze of conditioned air was the only indication of the modern era.

  She thought about Matthias living in London. It didn’t seem so long ago. Her thoughts drifted to meeting Mary and what seemed to be her tragic and lonely life. Mary tried to be tough but was so fragile. Rennie felt sadness that Mary had nothing left but wounded memories.

  Angie stepped off the stairs with energy. Her hair floated in the air behind her as she quickly crossed the room. She appeared to be a little frantic as she struggled to fasten her watchband.

  “Okay, let’s get at it. Rennie, did you order room service? I did, and it was not only slow, but the servings were small. These people need to come to Iowa to see how to serve food portions.”

  She stopped and sensed Rennie’s thoughtful mood. “Are you okay?”

  “I was just thinking about Matthias and Mary.”

  “I thought about her, too. I’m glad we went to see her. She probably doesn’t get many visitors. I hope she knows we care and we’re not just there to interrogate her.”

  Rennie walked a few steps to the back wall of windows and quietly let her thoughts go into the courtyard. She touched the curtain lace and slid her finger along the curve of stitching.

  “I feel like I’m setting the world aside. I look at Mary, and no matter what she has done or who she is, I just have so much compassion for her.”

  “I know the feeling you’re talking about. There’s been a change. I don’t know what to do with it. I’m still me, but there are little moments of interruption now when I feel centered or something. I have to admit, I like it.”

  “Me, too. I guess we’d better get going. Who knows what’s next.”

  Strolling down the busy street, Rennie felt unusually self-conscious. She had a renewed sense of focus. There was grace and power in her stride. This came to a quick end when a young, well-dressed man dashed across the street and confronted them.

  “Go back to where you came from!” he bellowed.

  Recoiling, the women were speechless.

  He stepped forward. “Stop meddling or you’ll pay a heavy price!”

  He pulled several rocks out of his pocket and dropped them at Rennie’s feet.

  Another man, who had been walking behind them, suddenly moved in front of the intruder. “Leave them alone or you’ll deal with me,” he barked.

  His huge frame hid the other man from Rennie and Angie, and his hands became fists. “Get away and don’t think about coming back!”

  The young man backed up and glanced past the defender. “Consider yourselves warned!”

  The big man moved forward, prompting the other to run across the street, get in a car, and drive off.

  As he did, the defender turned to the women and calmly addressed them. “Ladies, I’m sorry for this rude behavior. England is a tolerant land, but we have our crazies. This fellow apparently doesn’t like Americans. Please know that the rest of us are delighted you are here.”

  Rennie was stunned. “Thank you, Mr. uh —”

  “Just Peter is fine, ma’am. Please enjoy your day.” He gave a slight bow and strolled away.

  Rennie realized she was holding tightly to Angie’s arm and released it. “My gosh, what was that all about?”

  Angie looked as stunned as Rennie felt. “I don’t know but I’m glad that big guy was around. Crazies have been unleashed in the world.”

  They hurried to the coffee shop, which was only fifty feet away. It was about the size of a school room with a coffee bar along one side. Three tables were occupied. Joshua and Tiffini waved from one of the tables.

  Rennie suggested, “Let’s not say anything about what just happened. We need to finish what we came for.”

  They greeted one another at the table, then Rennie and Angie went to the coffee bar to order their drinks. The moment helped Rennie calm down. When they returned, Joshua and Tiffini placed file folders and reference materials on the table.

  “Well, here we all are,” Joshua began. “It’s a delight to finally meet you. Tiffini and I have enjoyed working on this little project.”

  “From the legal perspective here,” Tiffini added, “I wondered if you were resolving anything that may have arisen from dispute or claim. Not that it matters for us, but it has been raised by the authorities with whom I’ve spoken.”

  Rennie set down her coffee.

  “Not at all, Tiffini. I’m a reporter for a newspaper in Iowa. I was asked to write a story about Professor Justus. Angie here is the librarian and chief archivist at the college where the professor worked. We’re just trying to find out what happened to him as part of our work.”

  “I see,” said Tiffini. “That makes sense. We were just cautioned to be wary of whom we may be assisting, particularly since the university is involved. If it were a personal matter, that may be inappropriate.”

  Her face brightened. “For a college, I imagine it is quite proper. Well then, here are some photocopies of a few old records I have been able to retrieve. There is little more than what I mentioned previously. With Joshua’s assistance in tracking down a few of the other parties, I have done some research on them but found nothing relevant to the police records. Mary MacDonald has a bit of a sorry record here and there, but it did not relate to your professor.”

  “We had a chance to visit with Mary yesterday,” Angie said. “She shared with us a bit of her life and memories. Joshua, is there anything else we can learn?”

  “Yes, I have found a few tidbits over the last few days. In particular, I’ve definitely located the son, Professor Matthew MacDonald. He is here in London and not far away. His home is perhaps twenty minutes by taxi. There’s an odd wrinkle, though. There are some conflicting records.”

  “Oh, no,” Rennie responded. “Did he also have a difficult life?”

  Joshua looked at his notes. “Not at all. His life seems to have been quite, hmm, dignified shall we say. But there are apparent differences in surname that I cannot clarify.”

  Angie asked, “But, he is the son of Priscilla MacDonald? Did we find a different person?”

  “I’m certain he is the son of Priscilla. It’s just an odd conflict in name usage. Regarding other information, I have a few things on Lady Sotterfeld-Gris and on the Archbishop that I did not have earlier. The Lady’s story is fairly well available, given her social status. The Reverend’s was more difficult since he was not particularly important and apparently, at the end, somewhat in disgrace.”

  “Really?” Rennie asked with energy. “Tell me about that. From what I read, he thought rather well of himself.”

  “Yes, that is not to be unexpected I suppose,” Joshua said cynically.

  “The people to whom I was referred did not say anything directly, but there was that clear implication in their tone and in what was not said that pointed toward something important and not positive.”

  “What do you mean something important?” Rennie asked.

  “It sounded like something personal with regard to what the good Reverend may have done. Something improper may be an expression that fits. For Reverend Worthy, it sounded to me like a sex scandal. It seems he may have gone on holiday with a gentleman friend. Those relationships can become quite complicated, especially if one is married and has a child. Differences apparently arose between the Reverend and the church, and he was asked to take a position that might have been considered more modest than what he held previously. It all did not go well after that. They say he did himself in.”

  Rennie thought of the letters.

  “Was there any mention of any change in Reverend Worthy’s fortunes around the time of Professor Justus’ presence here?”

  “In what way, Miss Haran?”

  “I wondered if Worthy achieved any special status or even affluence after his contacts with Profe
ssor Justus.”

  “Do you mean resulting from his connection with the professor?”

  “For any reasons.”

  Rennie’s gaze at Joshua was cool and professional.

  Joshua looked into his file folder and quickly flipped through a few pages of notes and photocopied materials.

  “I cannot say there was any notable change in the Reverend’s situation from that time, except what may be due to some personal matters. One cannot actually know much with a lack of documentation. I found little information about his wife and daughter. His daughter’s son, Seth Galila, became a prominent solicitor. There have been some newspaper stories noting his legal services to the church.”

  Joshua nodded to Tiffini for her to comment.

  She added, “My review of files of the authorities and from my contacts with legal news groups, there is no mention of Reverend Worthy. As Josh said, only the grandson is mentioned, Solicitor Galila. You mentioned in your request that Reverend Worthy played some role at the British Museum, but we could find nothing in their records. His influence, if there was any, may have been through personal associations or style. He may simply have been what some call a ‘social climber.’”

  “How about the Lady?” Angie asked. “She sounds pretty cool. We had hoped to stop by her house today.”

  Joshua looked again into his file. “She was indeed an interesting person. About two years after Professor Justus was here, she married a fellow of substantial means who was quite a bit older than she.”

  “You mean he was rich?” Rennie asked.

  “Yes,” Joshua said with delight. “He was something of an adventurer, interested in Middle Eastern relics and the like. From the notices in the papers, they apparently traveled often and did the usual sort of receptions and endowments. About ten years later, he died in some odd way, in Egypt I believe. He apparently ingested a stone, of all things. Quite odd. His wife returned to England and led a much quieter life, not traveling from what I could find. She began an endowment for providing education opportunities for children who have an interest in the arts, culture, and particularly languages and history.”