Hush Now, Don’t You Cry (19 page)

“So we weren’t running,” the younger one
(Thomas, if I remembered correctly.)
joined in. “But we were seeing how fast we could walk.”

“You boys will be the death of me,” the nursemaid said. “You don’t do a thing you’re told. Well, your father is going to hear of this.”

“But we weren’t running, Bridget. It’s not our fault if you only have little legs and we have long ones,” Alex said.

“I don’t believe you’re allowed anywhere near the cliffs,” I reminded them. “You know what your mother feels about that.”

“We thought we’d take a look for ourselves at the place where they found grandpapa’s body.” Thomas said. “We won’t go really near the edge.”

“You’ll go nowhere near it. I’ll walk you back to the house,” I said. “The last thing you want to do right now is give your poor parents more worry. Your mother has lost her father. She’s naturally very upset. You should try to be good boys and comfort her. I expect you miss your grandfather too, don’t you?”

“I suppose so,” Alex said. “We didn’t see him very much and he was rather bossy. We always had to mind our manners with him.”

“He was your grandfather,” I pointed out. “It’s up to you to show respect to his memory.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alex said. Then his face lit up again. “You’ll never believe what we saw last night—we saw a ghost. Mama won’t believe us, but we did.”

Thomas also looked excited. “It was a white lady and she wafted across the lawn and then she vanished.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I said, “but I suspect that was me. I ran across to the big house in the middle of the night. My husband was taken ill and I ran across wearing a shawl over my night clothes, so I was your white lady.”

Alex shook his head. “No. This white lady didn’t go anywhere near the front of the house. She ran to the tower at the side where there is no door. We tried to look down by hanging out of our window, but she had just vanished and there was nowhere she could have gone.”

“It was a ghost,” Thomas agreed. “We think we’ve heard ghostly noises before in this place but nobody believes us.”

“You believe us, don’t you?” Alex asked.

“That’s enough nonsense,” their nursemaid said. She took them both by the arm. “Ghosts indeed. Back into the house right now. March. On with you.”

They gave me a regretful look as they were borne away. A white lady who wafted across the lawn and then vanished. I didn’t like to tell them that I was inclined to believe them.

Twenty

I stood looking up at that turret as I made my way back toward the house. It stood solid and windowless at one corner of the castle, its stone sides covered in dense ivy looking incredibly old and foreboding. It was only at the very top, where the turret rose above the level of the battlements that there was a window—in which I had seen a strange child’s face. But the face I had seen had definitely been that of a child, and they were talking about a white lady. Was there more than one ghost that haunted this castle? It didn’t seem possible in a building so new.

I went back to Daniel and persuaded him to try a little broth.

“What news on Hannan’s death?” he asked. “Have I missed anything?”

“We’ve heard nothing more,” I said. “But I’ve had interesting chats with some family members. Mrs. Flannery, Brian’s sister, can’t believe that it would be a family member, but then she mentioned her grandson Sam who had become a Junior Eastman before Brian took him over.”

“And he was the one who supposedly discovered the body when he went out early to go fishing.” Daniel said the words thoughtfully. “I’d be interested to hear the coroner’s report on the time of death. Maybe the body hadn’t lain there since the night before after all.” He tried to sit up. “I wish I’d had a chance to—”

“Lie back. You’re not going anywhere,” I said firmly. “You heard what the doctor said. Absolute rest and quiet because of the possibility of a relapse.”

Daniel sighed. “It’s not easy to be at the scene of what could be an interesting murder and to watch it probably being bungled by a small-town cop.”

“Such prejudice.” I smiled. “You New Yorkers really do think you’re the bee’s knees, don’t you?”

“I just happen to be a top-notch detective who has solved any number of murders.”

“I seem to remember when we first met, you were about to throw me in jail for a murder I didn’t commit,” I reminded him.

“Well, you had guilt written all over you. And I got it right in the end, didn’t I?”

“Only just.” I pushed back the dark curl that had fallen across his forehead. “Anyway, I want you to go on being a brilliant detective for many years to come. So rest now. I’m going to take a little nap myself. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Daniel’s hand closed around mine. “You did a splendid job, Mrs. Sullivan.”

I went downstairs and lay on the sofa with the rug over me. I was just drifting off to sleep when there came a light tap at the front door.
What now,
I thought. No peace for the wicked. I paused to smooth down my hair before I opened the door. Irene Van Horn was standing there. The last time I had seen her she had been in her night attire with hair spilling over her shoulders and eyes red with crying. Now she was back to the perfect vision of loveliness I had seen the day before, except that the dress was dark-green shantung—the closest to black that she had brought with her, I suspected. Her face still looked pale against the dark fabric—like a delicate porcelain doll that might shatter easily.

“Mrs. Sullivan. How is your husband doing?”

“Much better, thank you. His fever is down and he seems to be making good progress.”

“I am glad.” She gave me a tired smile. “I was just talking to my husband and he commented how distressing it must be for you to have your honeymoon turned into such chaos. I’m sorry but with our own grief we have not given much thought to you and your needs until now.”

“That is quite understandable, Mrs. Van Horn. May I say how sorry we are about your father. I could see how distressed you were yesterday morning and wished I could have done something to help.”

“Most kind,” she said. “But there’s nothing you or anyone can do. He’s gone. I’ll never see him again.” She put her hand up to her mouth, then composed herself. “My duties are now to the living. We would have invited you to dinner, but we suspected you would not want to leave your husband for that length of time.”

“No, I think I should keep a close eye on him for the next few days.”

“So we hoped at least you’ll come out and take tea with us on the lawn. It’s a lovely afternoon and tea on the lawn is something of a tradition at Connemara. My father’s chef is famous for his scones and éclairs.”

“Thank you. I’d like that,” I said.

“In about half an hour then.” She smiled again then walked away. I watched her go, wondering if I would have been so composed and gracious after the shocking death of a beloved father. She might have been spoiled but she had been raised with perfect social graces.

I went back into the house, splashed cold water on my face to revive me, then went upstairs to make myself presentable. Daniel was sleeping, but Martha was in the kitchen, having started work on our supper. I asked her to keep an eye on him and went off to take tea with the family.

The whole family assembled on the lawn next to the tower, seated in various poses in an assortment of wicker chairs. Elegant and unmoving, they created almost a replica of yesterday’s tableau, only this time they were suitably dressed: the men in dark suits, Mrs. Flannery in black, and Irene in dark green. The only differences were that on this occasion the two little boys sat on stools at their father’s feet. Also two maids in white caps and aprons stood by a white-clothed table, laden with a silver tea service and cake stands piled with various delights.

Mrs. Van Horn saw me coming and reached out a hand to me, thus breaking the tableau effect. “Mrs. Sullivan. Welcome. Do come and sit down.” She gestured gracefully to a wicker armchair beside her. “Alice, bring Mrs. Sullivan a cup of tea. Do you take oolong or Earl Grey, Mrs. Sullivan?”

I’d tried oolong but wasn’t so sure about the other. Still it was time to broaden my horizons. “Earl Grey, thank you.”

Tea was poured for me and luckily milk was offered. I knew that Daniel’s mother took her Chinese tea with lemon and I wasn’t so fond of that. I took a sip and was somewhat startled by the scented taste. Really the upper classes did eat and drink the strangest things.

“And how is your poor husband, Mrs. Sullivan?” Mrs. Flannery asked.

“Much better, thank you. Definitely on the mend.”

“That’s good news,” Joseph said. “You’ll no doubt be wanting to get him home as quickly as possible. I’m sure we could arrange transportation for you.”

“That’s kind, but the doctor stressed that Daniel was not to be moved for a while, at least until he says so.”

I noticed a flicker of annoyance cross Joseph’s face. I wondered why he was so very keen on removing us from the premises. The thought crossed my mind that we had accidentally seen him arriving early with his ladylove and perhaps he wanted that fact concealed from the family. I wondered if he had any other secrets he didn’t want universally known.

“Of course the poor man can’t be moved yet, Jo. What were you thinking?” Mary Flannery said sharply. “It’s not as if they’re bothering you, stuck away in that poky little cottage.”

“It’s a very comfortable little cottage,” Joseph said. “As you know, I enjoy staying there myself.”

“And we well know its attraction for you,” Terrence said smoothly and got a look of venom from his father. Terrence turned to me without batting an eyelid. “Do have a scone and jam, Mrs. Sullivan, or would you prefer to start with a sandwich? They’re watercress or potted shrimp, I believe.”

I took a shrimp sandwich, feeling awkward now—the cuckoo in another bird’s nest—and wished I hadn’t accepted their invitation. I could easily have said that Daniel couldn’t be left alone and now here I was sitting among people who clearly didn’t want me there. I nibbled at my sandwich.

“What I want to know is how long we’re expected to hang around here, doing nothing,” Joseph said. “I should be back in the office tomorrow, especially now I’ll have to take over Brian’s share of the work too.”

“You know we can’t go anywhere until the police have released Irene’s father’s body,” Archie said. “And we still need to come to a decision on funeral arrangements.”

“That’s another reason for being able to go back to the city tomorrow,” Joseph said. “A visit to his attorney and the reading of his will should clear up a lot of things for us. Until then we can’t proceed.”

“It would be funny if he’d left the whole kit and caboodle to the least likely of us,” Terrence said, with his customary grin. “To young Sam, maybe.”

Sam blushed bright red. “Don’t be silly, Terry,” he said. “You saw what he thought of me. I was the messenger boy. At least you got an office, even if you never worked in it.”

“Hey, none of your cheek, young fella,” Terrence said. “Some of us are not cut out for the daily grind. I’ve got the brains, others can have the brawn.”

“Then it’s about time we saw a demonstration of the use of those brains,” Joseph said coldly. “Frankly the way you’ve been acting recently would indicate to me that you have no brains at all—or at least no common sense.”

“Please, please.” Irene held up her hand. “None of this bickering. We have a guest and my father is not yet resting in his grave. Don’t you think I’ve had enough to upset me recently?”

Archie put a hand on her shoulder. “There, there, my dear. Do not distress yourself. Have another cup of tea.” He glared at Joseph and Terrence. “You should know how hard it is for Irene even to come to this confounded place. Every time she’s here it’s a reminder of what she lost. And now her father lying dead in the same spot. Well, have a little consideration please.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. I looked out at the sailboats on the ocean, wishing I were somewhere else.

“Mama, when can we start playing again?” Alex asked. “We’re bored.”

“And you’ll learn to show a little respect too, young man,” Archie snapped. “One does not play nor make merry in any way when there is a death in the family. We are in mourning.”

“Well then, shouldn’t we be eating gruel or dry bread rather than these éclairs?” Terrence asked. “They are sinfully good.”

“One day, Terrence, you’ll go too far,” Eliza said.

“As you and Mama have often told me.” Terrence deliberately took a big bite of éclair. “I wish that dratted policeman would return with some news. Was he or wasn’t he? It’s quite putting me off from eating a second éclair.”

“If he was, then you would be a prime suspect,” Eliza said.

“Me? What on earth makes you say that?” Terrence demanded. “I was always the soul of politeness to the old boy.”

“Even after he gave you that ultimatum last week?” she asked sweetly. “I seem to remember your language was quite colorful.”

Terrence flushed uncomfortably. “I didn’t like being spoken to as if I was a child.”

“None of us did,” Joseph said. “But Brian thought he had the right to lay down the law.”

“And he did have the right,” Irene said. “He created this pleasant existence for all of us. He worked jolly hard all his life so that we could live like this and it’s not right to try and run him down after he’s dead.”

“Nobody is running him down,” Terrence said.

Father Patrick stood up. “We’re all a little on edge, aren’t we? Brian was a fine man and at this moment we should be praying for his soul and reflecting on the good he achieved in his life.”

Suddenly Terrence got to his feet beside his uncle. “There is an automobile outside the gates. I believe the moment we’ve been anticipating has arrived. That pompous policeman has returned and now maybe we can all go home.”

The auto contained three policemen as well as Chief Prescott. One of the men was in the process of dragging open the big gate so that Chief Prescott could drive through. As the auto approached the house he spotted us seated on the lawn. He left the car and strode purposefully over to us. “Ah, good. I’m sorry to interrupt your little tea party, but I have news for you.”