The Madness of Mercury (8 page)

“It’s beautiful. Where did you find such a big one?”

Richard, balanced on a stepladder, replied. “I had it delivered. Isn’t it a beauty? Really fresh too. I figured I better—Dorothy certainly never would have thought of it.”
Criticism already
, I thought. He was placing tiny white lights around the circumference of the tree. Starting at the top, he had worked his way halfway down. He stretched as far as he could, then climbed down and moved the ladder to another position.

Dorothy returned with a tray loaded with a teapot and cups and saucers. “I should warn you. Evandra’s been in a state since … well, since Luis … ” She trailed off and poured the tea. She placed a cup on the table for me. “Would you like cream or sugar?”

“No thanks. Just straight.”

“I’m so worried about her. I found her in the hallway last night wandering up and down and talking to herself. Almost as if she were hallucinating. Maybe you were right about the … what was it, a Neptune transit?” Dorothy sat heavily in the armchair across from me and reached over to pour another cup for herself. “She’s very upset. Eunice too. I’ve been doing everything possible to keep them both calm.

Richard had finished stringing the lights and now was unpacking boxes of antique ornaments. He turned to Dorothy. “These are really old. Don’t we have some better decorations?”

“They love those antique ornaments, Richard.” She smiled, but I caught a flicker of defensiveness in her eyes. Her voice took on a sharper tone. “I just haven’t had a chance to go shopping for anything, much less ornaments.”

Richard started to retort, then thought better of it.

I took a last sip of tea. “I’ll leave you to the decorations. I’ll just go up and say hello to Evandra.” If they were going to argue, I didn’t want to be a witness. I grabbed my case and climbed the stairs to the dark wood-lined hallway. I walked to the end and knocked on Evandra’s door.

The door opened immediately and I was face to face with a woman at least six feet tall, large-boned, and heavy in the hips. This had to be Gudrun, their live-in companion. Her hair was dyed a dark red and pulled back in a severe bun. She wore a skirt and a double-breasted navy blazer that would have been more appropriate at a boys’ school. She spoke with a strong guttural accent.

“Yaass?” she inquired.

“Hello. I’m Julia. I’m here to see Evandra.”

“Julia, my dear, come in. I’m so happy you came today,” Evandra called out from behind the heavy door. “Let her in. Let her in right away, Gudrun.”

Gudrun sniffed but stood back to let me enter. The scent of lavender permeated the room. Evandra was ensconced in her cushioned armchair and another elderly woman sat opposite on a delicate loveseat, her feet barely reaching the floor. In the light from the window, Evandra’s complexion had a gray tone I hadn’t noticed the day before. A tea tray sat on a small low table in front of the loveseat.

“You’re having tea. Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all, my dear. You haven’t met my sister Eunice yet, I don’t think.” Evandra waved a thin hand, indicating that I should draw nearer. “Sit here, close to me.”

Eunice wore a delicate flowered gown, a pale pink shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “I understand you’re an astrologer,” she twittered. “You seem like such a nice young woman. Isn’t that rather dangerous?” Her delicate voice belied her frank statement.

“Dangerous?” I felt I had missed something.

“The Reverend tells us that studying the occult is devil’s work.”

Oh no, could it be?

“Do shut up, Eunice,” Evandra snapped. “Don’t insult Julia. Your Reverend, I’m sure, is full of the proverbial horse pucky.”

“Is not!” Eunice retorted, her cheeks blushing suddenly. “He knows about these things.”

Evandra turned to me. “Eunice has become enchanted with a local snake oil salesman and has Gudrun driving her to these disgusting revival meetings.”

I glanced at Eunice. She looked crestfallen. “They are
services
, and they are very inspiring. The Reverend says I can even join the congregation at Prophet’s Paradise anytime I want.”

“Prophet’s Paradise?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s the Reverend’s nature community up north.” She turned back to her sister.“If you’re going to be so judgmental, Evandra, I just might do that,” she sniffed.

“You’re welcome to, dear. I won’t have any of that nonsense in this house, so just keep your mouth shut about it.”

Eunice’s collar held several tiny jeweled pins. She noticed my look. “Yes, they’re bees, my dear. The most important life form on the planet, you know.”

“Eunice! She doesn’t want to hear about that,” Evandra hissed.

“But she must. It’s terribly important.” Eunice looked imploringly at me. “You know, dear Albert said that if the bees disappear, we won’t last very long.”

I wasn’t sure which Albert she was referring to. I felt as if I had stepped back in time. Did she mean Victoria and Albert?

Evandra saw my expression. “She means Einstein. Eunice, please, we have company now. Let’s not talk nonsense.”

“But it’s not nonsense.” Eunice turned to me. “I have studied, you see. I was at Berkeley. They did allow women in those days, even though Father wouldn’t hear of my working in the field. It wasn’t considered proper for a young lady in my social position.” She shot a scathing look at her sister. “That’s why I wear them.” She brushed her fingers lightly over her collar. “To honor them. To let them know how important they are. To help them survive.”

Evandra turned her head slightly. “Gudrun, would you please run down and bring us another cup and a fresh pot so we can visit with Julia?” Gudrun had been standing at attention by the door, as if I would be required to leave very soon. She nodded sullenly.

“I can go. There’s no need to have Gudrun … ”

“No dear, stay here with me for a bit.”

Gudrun turned and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

“I heard you weren’t doing so well today.” I addressed Evandra.

“So strange. Dorothy told me I was wandering last night, but I really don’t remember. I’m fine now, just very tired. I really don’t need the doctor.” She hesitated and glanced at her sister. “Eunice, could we have a few minutes alone?”

Eunice pursed her lips, obviously unhappy to be asked to leave. “I’ll speak with you later, Julia.” Carrying her tea cup, she tripped daintily out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind her, Evandra gripped my hand.

“You heard about Luis, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I was here.”

“Well! I told you, didn’t I? You didn’t believe me,” she said in a quavering voice.

I wasn’t following Evandra’s logic. “What didn’t I believe?”

“That it was meant for me. He was murdered. I know it.”

“I’ve heard Luis had a heart condition and might have fallen.”

“Hah! I don’t believe that for a minute. I may be old, but I’m not stupid.”

“What do you think happened?”

“Why, she did it.”

“Dorothy?”

“Of course. That’s why she’s staying here with us.” Evandra leaned forward as if someone were eavesdropping. “She doesn’t give a hoot about me, but once my sister and I are gone, she inherits everything. She’s the last of the family, so she’ll get this house, the investments, everything. That’s how the trust was set up.”

Dorothy had never mentioned this to me, but it made sense. Who else would inherit? “Evandra, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to dismiss your fears, but it can’t be possible. I was with Dorothy in the kitchen when it happened.” I felt I had to inject some reality into this conversation.

“I don’t know how she did it, but she did it. She did something to him. For all we know, he may have been dead before he hit that rock.”

I hardly knew what to say. “I’ve known Dorothy for some time. She’s been my client, and it’s … it’s very difficult to believe she could be capable of such a thing.”

The old lady nodded her head wisely and a crafty look came into her eyes. “Happens more often than you would suspect, my dear. You see, we’re the last of the Gambles, my sister and I. Everyone has passed over, so, as I said, it will all go to Dorothy once we’re gone. She’s the last living heir. The trust was set up by my grandfather. We draw an annuity, and there are some real estate holdings in the city as well. In the normal course of events, the bulk of it would have gone to the next
male
heir, with generous allowances for anyone else, but since there is no male heir, and Dorothy’s past childbearing years, it will all go to her.

“I see.” I thought for a moment. “I know Dorothy’s parents are dead, but I think she once mentioned there was an Australian branch.”

“No. Although we hoped there was, for many years. You see, my grandfather, Elisha Gamble, was born in the late ’60s.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“The late 1860s, dear,” Evandra continued. “He made his fortune in the silver mines. He had one sister, Lily, who died under mysterious circumstances. But that’s another story I’ll tell you some other time. Elisha had one son, Lysander, who was my father. And my mother’s name was Evangeline.”

I’m fascinated by family history. I’m more fascinated by people who go to the trouble to remember or explore that lineage. “That’s how you were named!” I exclaimed.

“Exactly. Evangeline and Lysander. They combined their names and called me Evandra. A very unusual name for the time, or any time for that matter.”

Gudrun returned, carrying a small tray with an extra cup and a fresh pot of tea. She deposited the tray on the table wordlessly and took a seat across the room, watching her charge carefully.

Evandra took a sip of her tea. “That will be all, Gudrun,” she announced.

Gudrun, expressionless, appeared not to have heard.

“Thank you, Gudrun. You may leave us now.” Evandra spoke louder.

With a glare in my direction, Gudrun rose. “
Sehr gut
,” she said as the door closed behind her.

“Dreadfully depressing woman. I don’t know where Dorothy found her.”

I had to agree but stifled a giggle. “So what did Dorothy mean when she referred to an Australian branch of the family?”

“Oh, she’s talking through her hat.” The old lady waved a speckled hand dismissively. “You see, I was born in 1926. My sister, Eunice, two years later. We had a little brother Jonathan, who was five years younger than I, and of course, Elspeth, the baby. My father, God rest his soul, was not an evil man, but he was very very strict, and particularly harsh with Jonathan. My mother couldn’t seem to convince him to spare the rod.”

“He beat your brother.”

“Yes. It was very sad. But it was a different time. Today, it would be considered child abuse and the authorities would be called in.” Evandra sighed, recalling the past. “Jonathan ran away when I was twenty years old. We believe he went to Australia right after the war ended. After my father died, my mother hired someone to try to locate Jonathan, but she had no luck. We never heard from him and could find no trace. For all we know, he could have died there. We hoped that if he knew our father was dead, he might return. My mother spent a great deal of effort and money trying to locate him, but it all came to nothing. Poor dear, she never recovered. It broke her heart. She lived another twenty years, but nothing could ease her pain over the loss of her little boy.”

“How terribly sad. And did you or Eunice ever marry?”

“No, dear. Neither one of us. I was far too wild and independent. Somehow, as strict as my father was, he let me have my way. I think he understood I was just as ornery as he was and would never back down. I would have done exactly what I wanted, no matter what. Eunice was a different creature. Scared of her own shadow. Never could stand up to him.” Evandra smiled, a mischievous look in her eye. “I was a member of the Rosicrucian Society and even had a short dalliance in Europe with Aleister Crowley and the Temple of the Golden Dawn.”

“Really? That must have been quite shocking for your family.”

“Oh, they never knew the half of it. My father trotted every drooling marital prospect he could find through our parlor, but I had no intention of settling down to panty girdles and bridge parties.” Evandra reached her hand to a small, silver-framed photograph on the table next to her armchair. “Here we all were in happier days.” She passed the photograph to me. A smiling woman in a huge hat and long dress stood in a garden with an infant in her arms. Evandra, the oldest child, stood close to her mother clinging to her hand. A younger girl and a small boy stood in front of their mother. The two girls wore long white dresses.

“This was taken here, in the formal garden. Our house has quite a history, you know. Lilly Hitchcock Coit, whose fortune as you must know built Coit Tower, stayed here often. My father thought she was a trollop, living in Paris and coming back to San Francisco to become what you girls today would call a firemen’s groupie. And Rudolf Valentino actually danced the tango here one night before he was driven out of the city by a jealous husband. Before my time, but my mother told me all about it.”

“Valentino? In San Francisco?”