whatsoever. 'Perhaps it's generational.'
'How so?'
'Richard and I were born in 1929, right into the Great Depression. It took a terrible toll in New Orleans. The fortunes and holdings of both of our families were mostly lost. Under such circumstances, if pride is your only possession of value, you protect it fiercely. You learn to hold your chin up no matter what. My children were born in a time of plenty. Perhaps they never found their own strength because they never really had to.'
Cree nodded. She could see it clearly in the wrinkles that creased Charmian's forehead and rayed from her shrewd eyes, the determined fold on each side of her mouth. And she could feel it in her – that iron resolve. It was impenetrable, inarguable, a solid, hard thing at the woman's very core. She wondered if Charmian had ever witnessed her daughter's hidden strength.
'How do you feel about Lila's wanting to move back into the house?'
'Naturally, I'd be very glad to see her living there.'
'But it sounds as if Ronald is not equally keen on keeping it in the family – '
'Ronald has his own brand of weaknesses.'
'Such as?'
The raying wrinkles at Charmian's eyes tightened. 'Are such concerns really germane to the task at hand?'
'I don't know. But, generally, the more context the better.'
Charmian thought about that for a moment. 'His weaknesses are the same as those of many men of his class and age: bad investments and young women of unreliable character. He is unlikely to have children with his young flings, and posterity therefore doesn't loom large in his thinking. And he 'took a hit,' as he puts it, on Wall Street when the dot-com balloon popped. I don't know the details. But I suspect he sees the house as an asset that would do him more good liquidated, not as one that would serve a larger vision of himself and our family.'
'So who actually owns the house?'
'I do. If we were to sell it, I would divide the money between Ronald and Lila.' Charmian set down her cup and frowned. 'This is not the sort of interview I expected to have with a ghost hunter.'
'I'm mainly trying to draw a bead on Lila's state of mind,' Cree reassured her. 'What stresses might trigger her vulnerability to the ghost.
If there's tension between her and her brother, for example – ' 'So you believe there is a ghost at the house.'
'What do you think? You lived there for, what, forty years. Did you ever encounter a ghost?'
Again Charmian's eyes held steady on Cree's. 'What is a ghost, Ms. Black? A memory of times past that suddenly awakens with unbearable poignancy? Images of a loved one who's gone? The buried longings or regrets that one inevitably acquires with age and that sometimes spring unexpectedly to life? Those I lived with constantly, as I do here. But if you mean the species of ghost you specialize in, no, I didn't. Of course not.' The old woman's gaze remained unrelenting, as if challenging Cree to refute what she was saying, or as if she had spotted Cree's inadvertent response.
'May I ask why you left? I know you had a stroke, but you seem very healthy…'
Channian sighed. 'What you see today is the result of years of deliberate effort. For the first few years, I had very little use of my left arm or leg. The doctors were concerned that I was prone to another stroke. Here at Lakeside, I have every imaginable convenience and none of those wretched stairs. I pursue the best physical therapy available in the facility's clinic. There are medical staff in residence twenty-four hours a day if I need them.'
'But do you believe in ghosts?'
'What on earth does it matter what I believe?'
'I'm just wondering why you're willing to grant me any credence at all, even to talk with me now. Ronald certainly doesn't.'
'I'm talking with you because my daughter requested I do so.'
Charmian studied the vase of flowers critically and took a moment to adjust several of the roses. It was clear to Cree there was more there.
'And?'
'And at my age, I have learned not to discount the possibility that the world is stranger than people usually assume.'
Cree nodded. 'But when Lila tells you she's seen a ghost, what do you say? You either believe her or don't believe her. You either think she's nuts, or she's onto something. Which is it?'
'You're looking for yet another proof of my failure to support my daughter, aren't you. Another example of my supposed tyranny.' Charmian's tone suggested anger, but Cree got the clear sense she enjoyed this kind of fencing. 'Or are you really asking whether a ghost drove me out of Beauforte House?'
'Is that what happened?'
Charmian's poker face remained perfect, inscrutable. 'Answering questions with questions – that's a technique used by both police interrogators and psychiatrists, isn't it? Do tell me, which role are you playing?' She held Cree's gaze for a moment, not really wanting an answer, then checked her wristwatch. 'You know, I have a lunch date with some of the other residents at one o'clock. If you have any questions that are actually relevant to this… situation, we'd better get to them.'
That was all right with Cree. Whatever else she had evaded, Charmian had clearly indicated that certain kinds of probing were not welcome. It was a point worth pondering, but for now it was obvious that further efforts would only antagonize her. So Cree poured herself another cup of tea and began asking the standard questions.
'One of my focal concerns will be the house itself,' Cree told her. I'd like to know more about its architectural history, especially any renovations. It's often hard to tell at first who a ghost is, or even what era it's from. But if I can put dates to when the floor plan might have been changed, I can compare the ghost's behavior to the layout of the house. A ghost walking through a wall, for example, suggests that it lived there when that wall wasn't there, or when there used to be a door at that place. We call it spatiotemporal divergence, and it's an important clue for the parapsychologist. Do you have any architectural schematics for the house?'
'My husband was very fortunate to find the original builder's drawings before we renovated in 1948. He made every effort to stay true to the historic plan of the house, so I think you'll find the layout has changed little, if at all.'
'Do you still have those drawings?'
'We gave them to Tulane University, the School of Architecture archives. We felt that students and historians should have access to them.'
'Excellent.' Cree made a note. 'And do you know anything about the people who lived in the house before you and Richard moved in? Family names, dates…?'
Charmian shook her head. 'It had stood empty for at least ten years. So many of the fine houses did then. Before that, I don't know. You'll no doubt find records of who owned it down at City Hall. But who actually lived there is another story.'
'Do you remember hearing any anecdotes from before you and Richard moved in? Did you ever have conversations, with neighbors, say, about the prior occupants?'
'About murders, gruesome accidents, tragic illnesses?' Charmian's cheek twitched, a signal she was amused.
'Those, or whatever – marriages, babies born, illnesses, love affairs -?'
'Or ghosts?'
'Sure.' Cree just smiled at her.
Charmian shook her head. 'We were newlyweds. If there was any gossip about unpleasantness at the house, I'm sure I did my best to ignore it. And if I ever did hear any, that was fifty years ago – I've long forgotten it.'
'What about gossip from when the first Beaufortes lived there?'
That was a different matter. Charmian did remember some stories her husband had told her about when his great-great-grandfather, the general, lived there. Jean Claire Armand Beauforte had led Confederate troops in several important battles and returned a hero to his home city in 1865. The house had been empty for a time after its occupation by Union troops in 1862, but it was still in good condition. In the years that followed, New Orleans suffered under the exploitation of Yankee carpetbaggers, and the transition from a slave economy was difficult for
