“I don’t understand. Help me understand what we can do for you.”
“The answers to your questions are in my window seat. Once our spirits are free, we will trouble you no more.”
I wasn’t sure if it was possible to negotiate with a spirit but I thought I’d give it a try.
“If I promise to do everything in my power to free your spirits, will you do something for me?”
“Perhaps.”
“Since you already have our attention, could you tone it down a bit so my men can go back to work? You’ve scared them to death. I promise I’ll follow through. Chris and I will even contact you with our progress.”
There was a long silence. I wondered if she was still there.
Finally, “I sense that you are a man of honor. I will abide by your wishes, but do not fail me or what you have seen me do so far will seem like child’s play.”
With that last threat, she was gone.
A moment later, Chris was back with me. “Tell me everything.”
After sharing my otherworldly experience, he said, “Let’s go find that window seat.”
I had been in all of the upstairs bedrooms, and only one had a window seat. That one must have been her bedroom.
Flashlights on, we climbed to the second floor, entered the bedroom, and went straight to the window seat.
I knew that with many of the old window seats, the seat itself was on hinges which made it possible to store items inside.
I tossed the old faded cushions aside and raised the lid. It was empty.
“I’m not surprised,” Chris said. “How long ago was it that the Weston’s owned the property?”
I tried to picture Maggie’s timeline. “They owned it from 1935 to 1960.”
“Well there you go. Whatever she placed there is probably long gone.”
“I don’t think so. She was very specific. She said the answers to my questions are in my window seat.”
I shined the flashlight around the interior again. I spotted one wood panel that was a slightly different color than the others.
I handed the flashlight to Chris. “Here hold this for me.”
I dug out my pocket knife and gently pried on the panel. A moment later, it popped out revealing a space behind the seat.
I took the light from Chris and shined it in the hole. “There’s something back there.”
I reached into the void and pulled out a dusty old book.
“Well I’ll be damned!” Chris muttered. “It looks like a diary.”
At that moment, I felt a chill breeze caress my face, and I knew we were on the right track. Within in the book’s dusty pages we’d find a secret that had been hidden for decades.
CHAPTER 10
I could hardly wait to get home and share the news with Maggie.
As I expected, she was waiting for me at the door.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re home. I was so worried.”
Once she knew I was safe, her curiosity took over. “Were you successful? Did you contact the spirit?”
“We did!” I replied, removing my rain-soaked jacket, “and you’ll never believe who it was.”
“Let me guess. It was Julia Weston.”
I was shocked. “How could you possibly know that?”
“I was busy researching the Weston family while you were gone. Theodore Weston was the president and principle shareholder in the Kansas City Bank and Trust. Julia was his daughter. I found an article in the Kansas City Star stating that Julia Weston, the daughter of Theodore and Marjorie Weston, tragically fell to her death just days after returning from her first semester abroad. Another article said her feet became tangled in her nightgown and she fell headlong down the steps.”
“That’s exactly where we made contact with her. Chris said he felt her presence there.”
“Ohhh, I can’t wait to hear. What did she say?”
“She said that atrocities had been committed in the house and her spirit could not go to its final resting place until another spirit had been set free.”
“Really? Who was the other spirit?”
“She didn’t say. All she said was that the answers to my questions would be found in the window seat in her bedroom.”
“Well, spill it. What did you find there?”
“This!” I replied, removing the old book from a plastic bag. “It looks like Julia’s diary.”
Maggie’s eyes grew wide. “Ohh, what a treasure! I can’t wait to start reading it.”
I looked at my watch. “I know you’re anxious to get started, but it’s past midnight. Any chance we could wait until morning to start reading? The diary’s not going anywhere.”
“Oh, I suppose, but I doubt I’ll sleep a wink.”
I slept, but it was a fitful sleep. My dreams were filled with frightful images cast on the walls of the old house, creaking boards, and mournful sounds. Strange figures seemed to be reaching out to me, imploring me to join them in the dark recesses of the old mansion. When I awoke, I was drenched in sweat.
When I stumbled into the kitchen, I found Maggie pouring through the pages of the old diary.
“This is so fascinating,” she said, barely acknowledging my presence.
“Have you found anything yet that would tell us about the other spirit?”
“No, the diary starts when she was quite young. I don’t expect I’ll find anything until closer to the end.”
“Then why don’t you start at the end?”
She looked at me like I was a moron. “The last chapter of a book is meaningless unless you know what led up to that point. Besides, I want to get to know Julia, as a person. What are you doing today?”
“I’m heading over to the house. Somehow, I have to convince the workers that it’s safe to go back inside. Julia promised that she’d back off the spooky stuff as long as we’re working on her problem.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m sure I’ll get a lot more reading done without you underfoot.”
“Happy to oblige.”
When I pulled up in front of the Gladstone property, the scene on the front lawn was exactly like the day before. The workers were huddled together and Don was trying unsuccessfully to get them inside.
“I hope you have good news,” he said. “They won’t budge an inch.”
“Actually, I do. Tell them that the medium and I contacted the spirit last night and everything’s okay now. She won’t be bothering them any more.”
“She?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”
Don turned and addressed the workers in Spanish. I could tell by the looks on their faces they weren’t convinced.
One of the men, apparently the spokesman for the group, replied in Spanish.
Don translated. “He said they’re not being paid enough to work with the spirits of the dead.”
I thought for a moment. “Tell them I’ll give them each an extra twenty-five dollars to return to work just for today, just to prove to them that they have nothing to fear.”
After Don relayed my proposal, the spokesman turned to his men. They all nodded.
Don smiled. “Looks like you’ve got a deal.”
“Blackmail,” I muttered.
“Oh, by the way,” Don said, “before this ghost fiasco reared its ugly head, we discovered that the old cast iron sewer line had collapsed. We’re going to have to jack hammer the concrete in the basement floor and replace the line to the street.”
“Swell! More dollars disappearing into the money pit!”
When I returned home, Maggie was in a dither.
“Just wait till you hear what I found out!”
“I’m all ears.”
“Julia Weston never went abroad to study. The family concocted the story to cover up the fact that she was pregnant.”
“Holy crap!”
“From what I read in the diary, Theodore Weston was quite a tyrant. He ruled the family with an iron hand. Apparently he was more concerned with his family’s
reputation than with their well being. Remember, this was back in the day when a pregnancy out of wedlock was still a scandal. A bastard child would have been a blow to their social standing.”
“So Julia wasn’t married when she became pregnant.”
“No, she was only seventeen.”
“Who was the father?”
“Jeremy Cline was the father. Julia wrote that Theodore believed Jeremy was below their social stature and he forbade her to see him.”
“We all know how well that works.”
“Exactly! Once Theodore found out Julia was pregnant, he concocted the story about sending her abroad to school and told her that Jeremy wouldn’t be coming around any more.”
“What happened to Jeremy?”
“She didn’t know. Her father would never tell her.”
“You don’t suppose ---?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s a possibility.”
“So that poor girl was locked up in her room the whole time she was pregnant. How sad. What about the baby?”
I saw the look of concern on Maggie’s face.
“I checked the birth records for that year. There was no record of a child being born to Julia Weston!”
At that moment, my cell phone rang.
“Walt, this is Don. I’ve got some bad news.”
“What now?”
“When the men were jackhammering the basement floor, they found a body. It looks like the body of a newborn baby.”
Suddenly it became perfectly clear why Julia Weston’s spirit couldn’t rest in peace. The spirit of her dead child needed to be set free.
CHAPTER 11
My next call was to Detective Derek Blaylock, and within an hour our mansion on Gladstone Boulevard was a crime scene.
Naturally, the workers had been asked to leave the house until the CSI guys had finished collecting their evidence.
They were milling around the front yard outside the yellow crime scene tape, obviously agitated that I had promised no more scary stuff inside. Then the body was discovered.
I turned to Don. “You might as well tell them to take the rest of the day off. Detective Blaylock said they’d be busy down there for several hours.”
Don relayed the news and the man who had been the spokesman conferred briefly with his companions, then said something back to Don.
“They want to know if they still get the extra twenty-five.”
I sighed. “Tell them yes, and to be back bright and early tomorrow. Blaylock said he could release the house later today.”
Don delivered the good news. I thought that would be the end of it, but the spokesman wasn’t through.
“They think they should get another twenty-five tomorrow because of the dead body.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
He just shrugged.
I had more important things I needed to deal with. “Tell them yes, but no more.”
Hearing that I had caved in, they all smiled and went away happy campers.
Maggie had been watching the verbal exchange. “That’s blackmail, you know.”
“Of course I know, but it’s either pay them or start all over with a new crew.”
At that moment, Derek came out of the house.
“The Medical Examiner got the body out intact. He’ll take it in, try to ascertain cause of death and time of death. Do either of you have anything that can help us out?”
“I think we do,” Maggie said.
Then she shared everything we had learned about the Weston family.
She held up the diary. “It’s all in here. I have no doubt that poor child was murdered and buried by Theodore Weston to avoid the scandal of a child born out of wedlock.”
“Where did you come up with that?” he asked.
“Uhhh, we found it during the renovation,” I replied. I wasn’t about to tell him that a ghost told us where it was hidden.
“I’d like to take it with me to confirm what you’ve just told me. You’ll get it back.”
Reluctantly, Maggie handed Blaylock the diary.
He turned and took a long look at the old house. “I can’t believe you really bought this old relic. What in the world were you thinking?”
I was about to say that he was the fourth person to ask that question, but instead, I just pointed to Maggie when she wasn’t looking.
He nodded. “I understand.”
The next day, I received a call from Blaylock.
“Walt, I just wanted to bring you up to date on where we are with the investigation. The M.E. can’t pinpoint a cause of death, but he was able to determine that the body had been buried fifty to sixty years ago.
“That, along with what I read in Julia Weston’s journal pretty much confirms your sequence of events. Unfortunately, we may never know whether the baby was still born or whether Theodore murdered it, but it doesn’t really matter at this point. Theodore, Marjorie, and Julia Weston are all dead. There’s no way to confirm and no one alive to charge with anything. I’m closing the case. Also, I’m ready to release the body. What would you like done with it?”
“Can I get back to you on that?”
“Sure, just let me know.”
I shared what Blaylock had said with Maggie.
“What should we do with the body?”
“I’ve been doing some research and I have an idea,” she replied. “All three of the Weston’s were buried at Forest Hills Cemetery at 69th and Troost. I’d like to take a drive over there and talk to someone in charge. I’ll tell you my idea on the way.”
“Then let’s get started.”
The office manager thought for a moment. “Weston. Theodore Weston. Yes, I remember the family. Let me look up their records.”
He went to a file cabinet and rifled through some manila folders. “Here it is!” He looked at the contents of the file. “Just as I thought. Theodore Weston purchased four adjoining plots. Theodore, Marjorie, and Julia occupy three of them. There is one still available. Undoubtedly it was meant for Julia’s husband, but the poor girl died before she married.”
Maggie took a deep breath. “How much does it cost to open and close a grave?”
“The average cost is around twelve hundred.”
“And a small, baby-sized casket?”
“We can provide a very simple one for one thousand.”
“How about a flat grave marker with the inscription, ‘Baby Jeremy?’”
“That should run around three hundred.”
I had been doing a mental calculation in my head. We were up to twenty-five-hundred.
Maggie turned to me and gave me a pleading look with her beautiful blue eyes. “Walt, what do you think?”
What could I say but yes. If I said no, I would have two women to deal with, one dead and one alive.
“Sure, it’s about time the kid had a decent burial.”
Maggie gave me a $2,500 dollar hug.
On the way home, Maggie said, “There’s one more thing we need to do.”
“How much will this cost me?”
She punched my arm. “Don’t be such a poop! It won’t cost you a dime. We should try to find Jeremy Cline if he’s still alive.”
“The father?”
“Absolutely. It’s his son and it’s only right that he should be there when his child is laid to rest.”
I made a quick mental calculation. “Didn’t you say the baby was born in 1952 and that Jeremy was twenty at the time?”
“Yes, that’s what the diary said.”
“That would make old Jeremy eighty-six years old. If Theodore didn’t off the kid, and if he hasn’t died in the meantime, I still don’t see why he should be involved. It kinda looks like he abandoned Julia and the baby.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, if he’s still living, I’m sure what transpired all those years ago has been a burden. It might give him some closure in his old age.”
“Then I guess we’d better hit Google as soon as we get home.”
As soon as we got home I called my old partner.
“Ox, I need a favor.”
“Another one? This is gonna cost you pie and coffee at Mel’s.”
“You drive a hard bargain, but you’ve got a deal. See what you can find on a Jeremy Cline, white male, eighty-six years old.”
“What’s the old guy done?”
“Probably nothing. This is a next of kin thing. We’re trying to find him for a funeral.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Twenty minutes later he called back.
“I’ve got a Jeremy Cline in an extended care facility, The Villages of Jackson Creek in Independence. I’m not sure if it’s your guy. It’s the only one that popped up.”
“Thanks, Pal. I’ll give you a call for that pie and coffee.”
I told Maggie, we jumped into the car and headed to Independence.
We stopped at the reception desk and asked for Jeremy Cline.
The receptionist smiled. “Jeremy is in room 214, but you might want to check in the library before you go up. He spends a lot of time there. It’s just down that hall on the left.”
We found the library and saw an old gentleman in an easy chair, his nose buried in a book.
“Mr. Cline?”
He looked up. “Yes, what can I do for you?”
“My name is Walt Williams and this is my wife, Maggie. Mr. Cline. Does the name, Julia Weston, mean anything to you?”
From the expression on his face, I knew we had the right guy.
“Why yes --- yes it does. Why do you ask?”
“We recently purchased the house on Gladstone Boulevard where Julia lived. During the renovation, we found two things, Julia’s diary, and the body of a baby boy buried in the basement.”
The moment I said that, tears welled up in his eyes. “If you read her diary, then you know ---.” He tried to finish his sentence, but ended in a sob.
“Yes, we know the two of you were in love,” Maggie said, “and that Julia was pregnant with your child. What happened? Why did you leave?”
Lady Justice and the Mystery Mansion Page 5