Life on Memory Lane

Part four

The rest of the day passed slowly. Since the old lady was not making sense and most of the likely places in the house had been searched, there was little for Trixie to do. She made a tour of the rest of the house, poking in closets and looking around the basement, but nothing of interest came to light. When all of her ideas had been exhausted, she set out in search of somewhere to take Mart and Dan that evening. As all of her meals to date had been taken inside the house, she had no idea of what kinds of establishments might be available. A few minutes internet searching gave her a list of possibilities and, after studying the map, she felt confident that she could find her way to them and back again without trouble.

She glanced at the time, finding that she still had hours to wait and, quite soon, a lunch to sit through with Ivy. She groaned at the thought, wondering what to say about Philip this time and hoping that whatever answer she prepared in advance would not be needed. By the time that she needed to go to lunch, she had thought up a strategy, just in case.

This time, they met in the eating area.

“Edith! I was just thinking about you,” Ivy greeted, as they both sat down to eat. “I’m worried about you, you know.”

“Really? Why is that?” Trixie answered, wondering what this had to do with Philip.

The elderly voice dropped into a loud whisper. “He’s going to get ideas, you know, if you keep letting him speak to you like that.”

“I don’t know who you mean.” It was perfectly true. It also seemed to Trixie a good strategy to find out exactly what it was they were talking about.

Ivy set her fork down and swatted Trixie’s hand, smiling. “Oh, yes, you do. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Maybe I’d like him to get ideas,” she countered.

Ivy considered this. “He is very handsome, I’ll admit. You can’t really be thinking of marrying him, though – he lives so far away.”

“Does he? I didn’t think it was that far.” Trixie hoped that this might make sense to Ivy.

“Not that far? My dear, he lives in the next state! If you married him, I might never see you again. You wouldn’t really go all the way to New York State, would you?”

As the town borders to the west followed the state line, Trixie felt that her home state was not far away at all. She once more tried to hedge her bets. “It’s not like I’d be moving across the country. New York is practically next door. And it’s also not like he’s asked me … yet.”

“If you keep talking to him, it’s only a matter of time,” Ivy warned. She let out a sigh. “What will I do if you move away? All of my other friends are gone.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a nice man,” Trixie suggested, then cursed herself for her tactlessness.

Ivy giggled girlishly and swatted Trixie’s hand once more. “That’s terrible! It’s no wonder that you’re attracting men, if you’re going to behave like this.”

“I’d like to attract a man,” Trixie answered, meaning every word. “A nice man who would be my friend and treat me well and share my life.”

All at once, Ivy seemed a different person, more mature and much more serious. “Men are not like that, dear. Don’t think that you can find one like that, because he’s not out there.”

A tear glistened in the corner of Trixie’s eye. “I’d like to keep hoping that he is. Maybe, this time, I’ll be lucky.”

“Just don’t think of moving so far away,” Ivy asked of her. “I would miss you so much if you left.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Trixie smiled and set down her knife and fork.

When she finally got the call from Mart that he was getting close, Trixie almost jumped for joy. It had been months since she had seen her brother and she missed him terribly. She grabbed her bag and headed for the door, intending to walk a short distance down the street so that Ivy could not possibly see the reunion. She had only gone past one house when a car pulled up next to her.

“Jump in,” Mart called, through the open window.

She opened the back door and climbed inside, thinking that something in his voice had sounded off.

“Hey, Trix. How are you?” Dan asked, turning his head to see her.

“Great,” she answered. “You?”

He see-sawed one hand back and forth. “So-so. I’d be better if Mart could follow directions.”

“Shut it,” Mart answered. “So, esteemed sibling, to which illustrious destination would you direct thy humble chariot?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, really. So far, the only place I’ve been in town is the cemetery – and I don’t recommend it for a good time.”

“Well, let’s take the grand tour, then,” Dan suggested. He pointed. “Turn there.”

“Why?” Mart demanded, sounding testy.

Dan shook his head in disgust. “I am, as it happens, the navigator. This thing that I’m holding is called a map. I use it to decide which road to go on. If you want to drive in places where you don’t know where you’re going, you should listen to the navigator.”

A silence ensued, in which Mart followed the directions but fumed as he did so. Trixie rolled her eyes.

“Have you two been fighting the whole way here?”

“No, only when Mart does really dumb things,” Dan answered.

“It’s not my fault that we took that wrong turn,” Mart griped. “You didn’t give me enough warning.”

Dan swore under his breath. “You turned left when I told you to turn right. I thought you learned the difference between the two in kindergarten or something.”

“Well, how about if you give it a rest for a couple of hours, before I hit your heads together,” Trixie suggested, in the sweetest voice she could manage. “I haven’t seen any of the Bob-Whites in weeks and this is the greeting I get when I see you?”

“Sorry, Trix,” Mart muttered. “I’m glad to see you, too. It’s just been a long drive, you know.”

“Oh, look! A bakery. Do you want to stop?” Trixie asked, knowing that the best way to deal with Mart’s bad mood was to feed him.

Without anyone saying another word, Mart was parking the car. The three got out and were soon selecting snacks from the window display. Dan shot Trixie a glance that showed he understood her reasoning and was amused by it. Their purchases made, they got back into the car to look for somewhere pleasant to eat. Mart laid one of his several snack choices in his lap and took a bite to tide him over in the meantime.

They had soon found a shady spot in a park dotted with mature trees. Sitting down and eating, all three were soon much more relaxed and friendly. Mart, in particular, had a great improvement in his mood.

“So, what is it you’re doing here?” he asked her, when his first custard-filled treat had been consumed and he was contemplating which item to eat next.

“It’s my perfect summer job,” she told them. “I think it was just waiting for me to be ready for it. Basically, I have to listen to an old lady and try to get clues as to why she put some strange things in her will and look around the house for clues, too. I got employed to help solve a mystery!”

“How long is this job going to last?” Dan’s voice and expression were sceptical. “Won’t it be finished up in no time at all?”

She shrugged. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

As she began to explain the situation, both young men listened in interest to the tale as she knew it so far.

“Wait,” Mart interrupted, a few minutes into her narrative. “What were the sisters’ names again?”

Trixie frowned. “Well, Ivy is the youngest and Myrtle was the oldest …”

“I don’t mean in order,” he clarified. “Just give me the rest of the names.”

“Oh. Olive and Fern and Rosemary and … what was the other one? Oh! Viola.”

He nodded. “I thought that’s what you said. Very botanical.” She gave him a quizzical look, so he elaborated. “They’re all botanical names. Didn’t you notice?”

She shook her head, thinking. “Oh! And there were the two half-sisters. The second one was Rosa and the first one … I know! It was Daisy. It all fits!”

“Not to me, it doesn’t. Which half-sisters?” Dan asked.

“I’ll get to them in a minute,” she promised. “I was thinking they were just old lady kinds of names. Like Edith, which is what Ivy keeps calling me, whenever she’s living in the past.”

Dan hooted with laughter. “You don’t look at all like an Edith.”

“I think she does,” Mart countered. “She looks a lot like an Edith that I know.”

Trixie tossed her balled-up paper bag at her brother. “He means Grandma Johnson, whose first name is actually Edith, even if she isn’t usually called that, and who looked a bit like Moms looks now when she was younger.”

Dan looked thoughtful. “Maybe this old lady knew your grandma.”

Trixie shook her head. “That was one of my first thoughts too, but Ivy’s ninety-six! The way she talks to Edith is as a friend.”

“You should call Moms,” Mart told her, seriously. “I just remembered something. I think Grandma Johnson was named after someone who died.”

“I’ll call her a bit later,” Trixie decided. “Do you want to hear the rest of it, or not?”

They waved her on and she related everything else that she had learnt, to date.

“That’s some family history,” Dan commented, when her tale drew to a close. “Makes you wonder what kind of skeletons there are in your own family closet.”

Trixie shuddered. “None as bad as these ones, I hope. Poor Ivy is pretty messed up as a person. You should hear her talking about things her mother doesn’t allow her to do. Her mother’s been dead since 1980!”

“I think both her parents were messed up,” Mart commented. “Who gives their children botanical names when their surname is Creeper?”

“It was Everett-Cooper by the time Ivy and her sisters were born,” Trixie reminded him.

Mart shook his head. “What about the half-sisters? What were their names again? Rosa and …?”

She thought a moment. “Daisy.”

“Daisy Creeper and Rosa Creeper. Nice.” Dan shook his head. “That kind of thing must mess a person up. So, what happened to them?”

Trixie shrugged. “We don’t know, yet. The original researcher found no trace of them aside from their births.”

“Maybe they changed their names,” Mart suggested.

“That’s the next line of enquiry,” she answered. “Not my line of enquiry, of course. I’m supposed to be working with Ivy and getting her to remember things – not that I have much hope of her remembering anything about them, because I don’t think she ever knew them.”

“So, what do you do next?” Dan asked. “Haven’t you already exhausted all the things to do at the house?”

She shook her head. “There’s still a few places to search and there’s still information to be found about Ivy’s father. She’s the only living person who knew him, so it’s important to try to get as much from her as possible.”

“That’s kind of sad.” A shadow had crossed Dan’s face. “She’s all alone, the last in her family.”

Trixie nodded. “And some days she thinks it’s 1930 or something and that I’m Edith, whoever she was. And every time she’s asked about Philip, I’ve gotten the answer wrong.” She sighed. “At lunch today, Ivy thought I was Edith and that I’d been leading some man on. She tried to tell me that I couldn’t marry him because I’d have to go so far away to where he lives in New York State. I don’t think, from what she’s told me in the past, that she’s ever even been across the state line.”

“But it’s just a few miles away, isn’t it?” Dan asked, incredulous. “How can she not have been out of state.”

“Her mother made sure all the girls stayed near home. Ivy’s never been back to the place where she lived as a child.” Trixie frowned. “I can’t imagine a life like that. Moms has always let me have a lot of freedom.”

“Including the freedom to make your own mistakes.” Mart’s comment was heavy with meaning. He had made it clear in the past that he disapproved of some of her life choices.

“True.” She met his eyes. “But I’m glad of that. I wouldn’t have learned some of those things from someone else’s experience. You know, like never to date a guy who gets lost on the way to class every single day.”

A silence fell between the three, broken at last by Mart. “So, where are we going to eat tonight?”

“Dude! You just ate half a bakery.” Dan poked his friend in the stomach. “Can’t you go for five minutes without thinking about food?”

Mart considered for a moment. “No.”

“Well, let’s go and look.” Trixie hauled herself to her feet. “I haven’t tried any of the places, but I think I can find a few to look at. Maybe, by the time we’re ready to eat, Mart will have decided what he wants.”

It took them quite some time to tour the available eateries and to choose one. Mart’s mood remained enough improved that it was a pleasant time, with plenty of laughter. In the end, they chose a small but clean diner and feasted on hamburgers and fries. The three agreed that they were not as good as the ones at home, but enjoyed them nonetheless.

It was easy to linger until the time agreed before returning to the house. They parked the car and went for a walk, at a reasonably slow pace for Trixie’s benefit. In spite of her limitations, she enjoyed the experience and took heart in the fact that her leg seemed a little stronger than it had been.

When they did, at last, go back, they were careful to be quiet. Trixie had explained that Ivy was not to know anything about the arrangement, but that her deafness was on their side. She opened the front door and checked that Ivy was not in sight before letting them in. The candlestick stood on the side table, but Trixie could not quite decide if that was a good or a bad sign. Together, they went up the stairs and started looking for somewhere to sleep for the night.

“How about this room?” Dan suggested, standing at the doorway to the sitting room. “At least it won’t have any old lady ghosts demanding we get out of their bedrooms.”

“Dude, I didn’t need that mental image,” Mart grumbled, as he stepped inside.

Trixie took a peek under one of the dust covers, which were over all of the furniture. “I guess it depends what’s under all of these. I haven’t really looked in this room at all, yet.”

Without thinking, she yanked a cover off something in the shape of an armchair, sending the three of them into fits of coughing from the dust that rose up.

“That is not what you’re supposed to do with those.” Her brother glared at her, then coughed some more. “Gently does it, Trix.”

“Sorry,” she spluttered. “I won’t do it again.”

Mart put himself in charge of removing the rest of the covers. This he did with such exaggerated care that Trixie was irritated. With an effort, she ignored him and considered her surroundings. Even without its shrouding cloths, the room had a neglected feel. There were spaces here and there that she could imagine must have once been filled with items that were now in Ivy’s rooms downstairs. Some of Olive’s watercolours hung on the walls, as well as a large oil painting of a landscape in dreary browns and dark greens.

“Well, this is comfy enough,” Dan noted, while bouncing up and down on the seat of one of the sofas. “It looks old enough to be in a museum, but I think I could sleep on it.”

“I’ll get you some pillows and sheets and things,” Trixie offered. “I think there’s some spare downstairs.”

“I’ll go,” Dan offered, glancing at her leg.

Trixie shook her head. “No, you have to stay up here, remember? We don’t want Ivy to see you because she might get upset. Her mother didn’t let her speak to young men.”

“Maybe I could suggest that to Moms,” Mart quipped, though there was a serious note beneath the surface. “It might keep you out of trouble.”

Pushing down the surge of temper which threatened to overwhelm her, she made a light-hearted reply. “Oh, that wouldn’t be enough to keep me out of trouble. I can get into trouble all by myself.”

Her brother sighed dramatically. “Too true.”

Dan glanced between brother and sister with worry on his face, but Trixie just smiled at him and went to get the bedding. As she ascended the stairs with her arms full she could hear the rumble of them arguing in low voices, but they stopped as she approached.

“Okay, I think this is everything you need. There’s a couple of bathrooms up here to chose from but maybe it’s best to use the one on this side – the other side is over Ivy’s rooms.” She handed her bundle to Dan, who started dividing it up. “Don’t come downstairs until I tell you it’s okay. I’ll check with Elaine in the morning for when it’s safe for you to leave. That will depend on Ivy.”

“That’s fine, Trix. Thanks for arranging it.” Dan smiled at her.

Mart smirked. “Because we love staying on people’s sofas when they don’t know we’re here.”

“Count yourself lucky I didn’t put you in one of the bedrooms,” she answered. “You think this room’s bad? You should see Rosemary’s.”

“Do I want to know?” Dan asked, looking wary.

She indicated that they should follow her. “You might as well take a look around up here. It’s not time to go to bed yet.”

For the next fifteen minutes, the three roamed over the upper part of the house. Trixie even took them into the attic. They returned to the sitting room and closed the door. The lights were dim and it made the room a little spooky.

“Is this the part where you tell us stories of the former occupants of those rooms?” Mart asked, as he made himself comfortable. “I could do with a good ghost story right about now.”

Trixie shook her head. “I haven’t heard of any ghost stories. I would think all of their spirits would be eager enough to leave.”

“Like your boyfriends.” Mart’s voice held little humour.

Dan whacked him on the upper arm. “Man, that’s exactly the kind of thing I just told you not to say! Can’t you keep your big mouth shut?”

“Evidently not.” Mart looked contrite as he met Trixie’s eyes. “Sorry, Trix. That was out of line.”

“Yes, it was,” she agreed. “I think it’s time that we settled this, though. I’m sick of the snide remarks.”

“Well, I’m sick of you getting it wrong,” he answered. “I don’t want you to go out with those losers. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”

As she heard the longing in his voice, her heart softened. “I know. I never thought it would be this way, either. Look at us – at all the Bob-Whites. I thought I had it all figured out of how it would be when we were older, but it’s nothing like I imagined. I thought we’d all be together forever.”

“But life moved on.” Mart’s voice was soft. “We all moved on.”

“Some of us moved farther than others,” Dan noted, with a dark look. “Us regular people need to stick together.”

Trixie’s hurt reflected on her face. “It’s not their fault.”

Dan shook his head. “I didn’t say it was. It’s just that Brian, with his scholarship, and the other three, with their rich parents, have opportunities that we just don’t have. I’m lucky to be able to scrape by, some weeks. They just don’t understand that and I don’t want them to have to.”

“And while they’re off, spreading their wings across the globe, we’re stuck with staying near home, where it’s cheaper,” she added. Her moment of self-pity lasted only a moment, however. “We’re all still much better off than poor Ivy was at our age. Just think of the places we’ve already been and she’s spent her whole life either here, or where she lived as a child, and has never gone anywhere at all.”

“That’s a really cheerful thought,” Mart commented, leaning back. “So, what about that ghost story? Which sister is the most likely to do a haunting, do you think? Or, would it be the mother?”

“The mother doesn’t need to be a ghost to keep haunting.” Trixie shivered at the thought. “I think it would be one of the sisters. Not Myrtle – I don’t think she’d want to stay. Fern would be better, but she never lived here. I don’t really know much about Rosemary, but she doesn’t seem the type, either. So, that leaves either Viola or Olive.”

Dan looked at her with narrowed eyes. “You look like you have an idea.”

Trixie nodded. “I think I have an angle for the ghost story. See, I know from the diaries that Myrtle was sure that Olive had killed herself.”

“I thought it was murder victims who were supposed to walk, not suicides,” Mart grumbled.

His sister frowned at him. “Yes, but what if it wasn’t a suicide, but a murder? Maybe Olive has some unfinished business to deal with. She was a sensitive type. She painted these watercolours, for instance.”

“She walks the halls of this house, lamenting her unfinished painting,” Mart intoned, in an eerie voice. “And if you spend the night in her room, she’ll torture you with a paint brush until you depart, or die and join her.”

“That’s kind of lame, dude.” Dan chuckled at his friend. “Can’t you do any better than that?”

Mart frowned for a moment. “Trixie’s right about one thing: Fern’s story would be a whole lot better. I wonder if ghosts ever haunt places they’ve never been in life?”

“Face it, Mart. You can’t make a ghost story out of this place. You’re just not good enough.” Dan crossed his arms across his chest.

“Oh, yeah?” Mart’s face took on a look of determination. “We’ll see about that.”

He closed his eyes in thought for a few moments, then an evil smirk crossed his face. Dan and Trixie exchanged glances and settled themselves comfortably to listen to the tale that Mart was about to tell.

“Many years ago, here in this house, lived a widow and her six beautiful daughters,” he began.

“Except, by the time they moved here, there were only five daughters and Myrtle was not very attractive at all,” Trixie corrected.

“Shush. I’m trying to create some atmosphere here. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, a widow lived here with her five daughters. Four daughters were beautiful and one was plain. Are you satisfied with that description, Trixie?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He resumed his tale, keeping his voice low and mysterious. “Many men tried to win the hearts of the attractive daughters, but their mother made sure than none were successful. Any man who got too close began to suffer terrible, mysterious afflictions. For, you see, the widow would sneak into their houses at night and poison their food. The widow was determined to keep her daughters safe from men and so she vowed to outlive them all and be their protector.”

Mart made a dramatic pause. “Many years passed and some of the daughters died. Then, one night, while their mother lay peacefully sleeping, the eldest daughter crept into her room and murdered her. The widow’s soul was released from her body, but not from the earth. Two daughters still lived–”

“Three,” Trixie corrected again.

“Three daughters still lived and needed her protection.” He shot a dirty look at her, but kept speaking. “Who would keep away the wicked men who threatened to take them away if she did not? And so, the widow’s spirit lingered in the house, preying on any man who spent too much time here. At first, they would not notice her power over them, but as time passed they would become weaker until she would come to them and–”

A loud thump from somewhere outside the room caused all three of them to jump.

“What was that?” Trixie asked, scrambling to her feet. “It sounded close by.”

“It was the widow’s ghost, coming to get these two wicked men in her house,” Dan answered. “She knows we’re here and wants to draw us out to where she can kill us.”

The thump sounded again, harder this time, so that the pictures rattled on the walls. By this time, Trixie had the door open and was looking out into the hallway. Rapid footsteps were sounding on the stairs and she waved Mart and Dan back into the room in case Ivy was about as well.

“What’s going on?” Elaine asked, as she reached the top. “What’s that noise?”

“I don’t know,” Trixie answered. “We were in there, talking. It gave us a fright.”

“Which way did it come from, do you think?”

Trixie pointed to Elaine’s right. “This way. Maybe this next room.”

She walked over and tried the door to Olive’s bedroom, which opened easily. The room was unoccupied and the window was open. A soft breeze shifted the curtains and stirred up the dust.

“There’s no one here now,” she reported to Elaine, “but someone has been recently. The window was closed when I was here last.”

“Can you see anything else wrong?” Elaine asked.

Trixie shook her head. “Everything else looks the same.”

From below, they could hear Ivy’s distressed voice. “What is it? Is there someone in the house? I hope it’s not a burglar.”

“No, Ivy. It doesn’t seem to be a burglar. I think it might have been an animal, but it’s gone, now.”

“I hope it wasn’t a bear,” the old lady answered, in heightened alarm. “Bears are very dangerous, you know.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t a bear. It was more likely a squirrel,” Elaine assured her. “I’m just going to look around and make sure it’s gone and then I’ll be back down, okay? Why don’t you go and sit down while you wait for me?”

The elderly lady shuffled away back to her room and they heard the door close behind her. Elaine strode over to the sitting room door and yanked it open. Trixie followed along to see what she was doing. She had, in the meantime, closed the window and secured it.

“I think the three of you had better start telling the truth.” Elaine glared at each of them in turn. “What did you do to make that noise?”

“Nothing.” Mart’s voice and expression were both serious and not the least bit defensive. “We were in here talking when we heard it.”

The older woman glanced from one to another for a moment. “Did you leave the window open in the next room?”

“No, we didn’t touch it,” Trixie answered. “We looked around this floor and the attic a little earlier, but we didn’t open any windows. I’m sure it was shut then, because I remember hearing the wind in the trees outside when we were in Olive’s room.”

“I remember that too,” Dan offered. “It was kind of creepy; we were talking about people dying in their beds and how Olive had died in that bed and there was kind of a whistling wind right after someone said that.”

All of a sudden, Elaine smiled. “You’ve been up here telling ghost stories, haven’t you?”

The three nodded ruefully and Trixie added, “Mart had just gotten to the part where the ghost comes and gets you when we heard the first bang.”

“Let’s just assume that you’re telling the truth.” She smiled. “I think we’d better take a look around and see if someone is here.”

“You want our help?” Dan asked.

She nodded. “Let me just check that Ivy’s out of the way and then you can come and help. I think we need as many pairs of eyes as we can muster.”

After a few moments outside the door, she was satisfied and waved them out. From there, they looked through every room on that floor, checking the windows and looking under beds and in closets. Nothing seemed out of place until it came time to check Myrtle’s room. The door, which they had locked behind them, was now ajar and the bookcase was away from the wall.

Trixie did not hesitate in the bedroom, but went straight up the stairs.

“Someone’s been here,” she called to those below her, trying to keep her voice down but not completely succeeding. “It’s a mess!”

The shelves of diaries had been thrown down and the little books were strewn across the floor. All of the boxes had been opened and their contents tipped out. Further, it looked as if someone had roughly rummaged through the resultant piles, mixing everything together.

“This is pretty strange,” Dan commented, when he could see what she was talking about. “Why would someone do this? There wouldn’t be anything valuable up here, would there?”

Trixie shook her head. “I’d already gone through all of these and nothing that I found looked at all valuable. Most of it was old junk.”

“Maybe it’s not an object that they’re after, but information,” Mart suggested.

His sister’s eyes opened wider in horror. “I took all the important things back to my room. What if they’ve been in there while I’ve been up here?”

She took to the stairs as fast as her legs would take her. On the way down she stumbled slightly and had to check her pace for fear of falling. It seemed to take an age to get to her room, but when she did it seemed that perhaps the rush was for nothing. The door was closed and locked, just as it should be. Her hand trembled as she unlocked it and pushed it open.

At first glance, all was as it should be. The pile of diaries was just as she had left it and a quick count told her that they were all still there. The genealogist’s report was underneath and it also appeared to be untouched. Her belongings were in their customary places and nothing was noticeably missing … but one item had been added. On the floor was a sheet of lined notepaper with a few words scrawled on it. She leaned over and read:

‘You’ve done enough damage. Why don’t you let them rest in peace?’

“Everything okay?” Mart asked, from behind her.

She nodded. “Except that. I think it’s been slipped under the door. The room was locked when I got here and everything as I left it.”

He drew her out and gestured for her to lock up once more. “We found that all the bedroom doors have the same key, so it was as easy as getting one of the other keys to open that door. This one, on the other hand, looks new. I’ll bet that it’s one of a kind.”

Trixie nodded and went ahead of him to check that Ivy was nowhere near them. “I should have checked that before I relied on just that one door to keep the attic safe. At least I’d already gotten everything I need from up there. I guess I’ll have to clean it up now. It wouldn’t be fair to Ivy to leave it in a mess, when I’m the one who found the doorway and allowed it to be opened.”

“Worry about that in the morning,” he suggested. “In the meantime, Dan and I have been thinking about what happened upstairs. We want to run our theory by you.”

She entered the sitting room to find Dan pacing back and forth.

“You’re here. I wanted to ask you some things.” As she nodded her approval, he continued, “Myrtle’s room is right above Ivy’s room, right?”

“Yes.”

“And Ivy’s kind of deaf, so she talks really loud, right?”

“Yes. That’s right. You could probably hear her talking from Myrtle’s room. Is that what you’re after?”

Dan nodded. “What we’re thinking is that the person who made the mess didn’t know we were in here. He – or she – heard Ivy say something about a burglar and started looking for a way to escape before someone came to investigate. There’s nothing outside Myrtle’s window, is there? No way out, I mean.”

Trixie paused, thinking, then shook her head. “No, there’s no trees, no ledges, not even one of those gables that seem to be all over this house.”

“But there is outside Olive’s window. I know because I just went and looked. If you were determined enough, you could climb out of that window and make it to the ground without breaking your neck.” He grinned. “Well, maybe not you, personally, Trix.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anyway,” he went on, grinning, “we’re thinking that Olive’s window probably hadn’t been opened since she died which was …?”

“Sometime in the ’70s, I think. Before Cornelia died in 1980.” She looked between the two, who were watching her intently. “So, you’re saying the window was stuck and this person desperately wanted to get out and they banged on it until it opened.”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Mart asked.

She nodded. “Sure it does. It’s about the same as I was thinking.”

Mart groaned. “Can I ever get ahead?”

“No. But, the thing that I’m wondering about is the mess in the attic. It doesn’t really serve any purpose that I can see, so I’m wondering if it was a bit of a temper tantrum.”

Dan looked thoughtful. “Caused by?”

“My having taken the genealogist’s report away,” Trixie suggested. “Unless you sat down and sorted through them, I don’t think you could tell that I’d taken some of the diaries. The folder with the report, on the other hand, was more obvious. Now, what is in that report that someone doesn’t want me to see?”

Mart shook his head. “The trouble with this theory is that the person had the opportunity to take the report before, but they didn’t. They didn’t even do a very good job of hiding it. Of all the places they might have put it, they just shoved it behind a box.”

“But I don’t think they had much time that day,” Trixie argued. “They didn’t want to be caught with it – or in the attic – but they also didn’t have anywhere to put it to keep it out of my way. Putting it there was kind of an act of desperation; the first thing they could think of when they only had a moment to act. I think, for some reason, this has been their first chance to try to get it away from me. I think they were angry that I’d already taken it and that’s why they made that big mess.”

“And what do you think might be in the report?” Dan asked. “Why be so angry?”

She considered for a moment. “That’s kind of a puzzle. The only thing I can think of is that someone must want to prevent the will being carried out for some reason. The trouble with that is that I don’t think any individuals will benefit if the proper people can’t be found, or don’t exist; it’s just charities and things. They wouldn’t care enough to do something like this.”

“And they wouldn’t have representatives inside this house,” Dan added.

“Whoever it is, they’re not a rational thinker,” Mart noted. “They don’t think things through. They don’t keep their head in a crisis. They’re prone to panic.”

“I don’t know anyone who fits that description,” Trixie grumbled. “Everyone I’ve met here has seemed calm and reasonable. Oh, except for Maria – not that I’ve actually spoken to her more than a few words. She’s supposed to be a bit temperamental.”

Mart waved the distraction away. “I don’t think you’re seeing my point. If you can provoke that response in this person, you might trick them into revealing themselves.”

“Or, into trying to bump you off,” Dan added. “That would be fun.”

“I’ll be careful, okay? I’ve been careful ever since I realised that someone didn’t like what I was doing.” She thrust the piece of paper from the floor at Dan. “This doesn’t sound like someone violent, does it? It’s more like someone a bit exasperated.”

“Like me, when you keep going off on wild tangents.” Mart’s last few words were strained as he moved to avoid the slap Trixie aimed at his arm. “Hey! What was that for? I said wild tangents and not anything about your poor taste in boyfriends.”

Dan was ignoring them, frowning at the paper. “What damage have you done, Trixie? And what have you done to disturb the peace of the dead?”

She stopped and stared at him. “I didn’t really think about it that way. So far as I can think of, I haven’t done any of either … unless you count reading Myrtle’s diaries, but William – who actually knew Myrtle – didn’t think that she would mind very much. Otherwise, I’ve just talked a little and looked in some boxes.”

“And has anyone been upset about you talking?” Dan asked, looking serious.

Trixie paused, thinking. “Well, Ivy has gotten upset a couple of times, but I’ve always tried to calm her down when that happens and talk about something else. Sarah and Elaine have both helped with that, but I don’t think I could say that either one of them was upset about it. William helped me once, too, but it can’t be him because, for one thing, he’s encouraging me to do this and for another, he’s got the copies of the diaries and the genealogist’s report, so that wouldn’t be any surprise.”

“Well, we know it can’t be Elaine, because she was downstairs.” Mart counted off suspects on his fingers as he spoke. “It can’t be Ivy, because she couldn’t climb out of the window. I agree that it doesn’t make sense for it to be William, so that leaves … those other two people you named.”

“Sarah and Maria,” Trixie put in. “Plus any other people who have a key, like the cleaning lady and the other two people who do Elaine and Sarah’s jobs on the weekend, who I haven’t met yet. And I don’t think we can discount Elaine. We don’t know that she was downstairs; we only know that she came up after the noise.”

“She was with Ivy,” Mart argued.

Trixie shook her head. “Ivy hasn’t said that, and even if she did, Ivy is not a reliable witness. Think about it, Mart. She thought the noise might be caused by a bear. And the other day I heard her warn someone to be careful in the snow. Do you think we can rely on her word, when she can’t remember if it’s 1930 or 2013?”

“And yet, you’re relying on her to provide information for your investigation.” He raised an eyebrow at her in challenge. “What sort of sense does that make?”

“It’s a completely different thing. The things that Ivy remembers are clues, or pointers, to help us get started. We’re not relying on her memories, we’re using them as a jumping-off point.” She turned away from him. “Anyway, I don’t have to justify that to you; it’s what I’m being paid to do, so that’s what I’ll do.”

“Okay, I see how that’s different.” He sounded apologetic. “And I see that you should do what you’re being paid to do. I’m not sure I agree about Elaine, though. If she’d climbed out the window in a panic, edged along that narrow ledge and then climbed down the nearest tree to the ground and then gotten back in the house somehow, don’t you think she’d be … dirty, or puffed, or dishevelled in some way? She looked composed and neat when I saw her. She didn’t look like someone who’d just run away in sheer panic like we were theorising.”

Trixie took a moment to consider his words. “You’re right; she didn’t. But then, maybe we haven’t hit upon the right answer, yet. We can’t rule her out just because she doesn’t fit with our theory. The theory might not be right. Besides, I didn’t say she was likely, only that she was possible.

Mart made a dismissive gesture. “Fine. So, she’s a possible suspect. But how does that fit with the part where the intruder didn’t know we were here?”

“It doesn’t. If it was Elaine, then the whole theory is wrong, not just part of it.” She let out a breath and turned to see what Dan was making of the argument, only to find that he was ignoring them and instead engaged in an examination of the walls of the room.

“Don’t mind me,” he told them, when both siblings stopped and stared at him. “I’ll still be here when you’ve finished – provided you finish before it’s time to leave tomorrow.”

Trixie was the first to find her voice. “What are you doing?”

Dan shrugged. “What does it look like? I’m doing your job for you.”

Both of them went over to see what he was doing. He stood near the wall that adjoined Olive’s room, with the palms of both hands flat on the surface. His eyes were fixed on the big oil painting which hung there, only inches above the fingertips of his right hand.

“What are you thinking?” Trixie asked. “Is there something behind it?”

Dan seemed surprised. “No, I don’t think so. Actually, I was thinking there was something a bit strange about the wall, not the painting. Feel here.”

He placed her hands on two different spots close to where his hands had been. Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “One place is cooler than the other. What does it mean?”

“That a vent goes through the wall just there?” Mart suggested, looking uninterested. “So what?”

“I’m just suggesting that we should see how thick this wall really is,” Dan answered, coolly. “We already know that the widow sealed up the attic with things inside that she didn’t want to see. What was to stop her sealing up other things? Maybe the banging wasn’t the window, but something on the other side of this wall.”

Trixie frowned, trying to remember what the other side of the wall looked like, but soon decided to go and look at it. When she reached Olive’s room, she was disappointed. Her memory of it was correct and the wall was nearly featureless. A few small watercolours hung upon it, but no furniture stood against it, except at the corner of the room, where the small desk was set under the window. On her return trip, she counted the paces from level with Olive’s side of the wall to the door of the sitting room, then repeated the process on the other side.

“There’s nothing to see on the other side,” she reported. “There’s nowhere that an opening could be concealed, but Dan’s right about the wall. It must be at least four or five feet thick. The trouble is, I can’t see anywhere that there might be a way into whatever is in there, from any side.”

Mart looked at the wall for a few moments, then narrowed his eyes. “From above. Tomorrow, when it’s daylight, you should go up into the attic and see if there’s a way in from up there.”

“Tomorrow? But I want to know now!”

Dan stepped away from the wall and went to sit down. “Now, I think it’s time to get back to what we were doing. Mart never finished his ghost story – not that it was all that scary.”

“You jumped as much as any of us did, Mangan,” Mart sniffed. “And I’ll have you know that I can tell a far superior story to that one.”

“Go on, then,” Dan challenged.

The rest of the evening passed with the three of them trying to outdo each other with scary tales. By the time they needed to go to sleep, Trixie was more than a little spooked and hurried back to her room as quickly as she could. She made a quick check of the room before turning in and found everything as she left it. As she lay in her bed, trying to calm her mind for sleep, her thoughts began to drift to other adventures she had shared with her friends, other places she had searched for clues and other people she had helped. By the time sleep claimed her, she was far away from the idea of ghosts.

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