Hopkinses didn’t get excited about her latest choice for wallpaper. Then she went off in her car. Some errand, she said. I don’t pry. She and her brother, Simon, who’s two years older, came to stay at Cragstone one summer when they were children. It was the best their parents could do for them by way of a holiday. Mr. Gallagher didn’t mind my having them. I was still living in my rooms in the west wing in those days. And I am happy to say they didn’t disturb him. Naturally, I made sure they behaved well and entertained themselves quietly. Not that Lady Fiona would have noticed if they’d fallen on her from the ceiling. Poor Mr. Nigel, she didn’t know he was alive half the time.”
“Oh, dear!”
“But, bless his sweet face, he never complained, not even to me, the one person in the world he could always trust, even when others let him down.”
Miss Pierce got up and opened her front door. I followed her down a cream-painted hall, with an ebony floor and staircase banisters, into an equally bright sitting room arranged with some handsome wood pieces and a comfortable-looking slip-covered sofa and easy chairs. Looking worn out, either from her evening constitutional or the emotional upheaval of talking about her absent pride and joy, she accepted my help in getting seated.
“May I get you a cup of tea?” I asked.
“No, thank you.”
I hesitated, wanting to get back to Cragstone. It wasn’t fair to keep the others from sitting down to dinner, but I didn’t want to appear too eager to get away.
“There’s my Mr. Nigel.” Miss Pierce pointed to the mantelpiece and I duly admired the photo of a blank-faced man in his sixties. “I wish I could show you one of my great-nephew Simon, but it’s not in its usual place. Val must have moved it. She will touch things and then say I’ve forgotten where I put them.”
“I misplace things all the time.”
“Simon is very good-looking-as you can imagine, having seen his sister-or he was when I last saw him, twenty years ago at least. Of course it was a great pity about his ears. My heart would have broken if it had been Mr. Nigel. But his were perfect little shells from the day he was born.” Her voice broke and I said that must be a great comfort. “Val occasionally kept in touch with me. It was different with Simon. He’s living in Ireland… or would it be Scotland? He married a woman from whichever it was. Not at all suitable, from what I gathered. Something about a brush with the law, or was it selling vacuum cleaners door-to-door? The best of men behave foolishly when a woman is determined to haul him to the altar like a sacrificial lamb.” Miss Pierce’s eyes searched the bookcase next to the fireplace. “Where
“Hello again,” I said, feeling my petals droop.
“What a good thing you’re back,” said the vision of loveliness. “You’re wanted up at the main house.”
“Oh, dear, I must have held up dinner!”
“I don’t know about that. It’s what else is planned for this evening that had Betty all excited. That’s all I can say without spoiling what Ariel called her big surprise.”
“I suppose this means you have to leave.” Miss Pierce looked at me as though she’d had her rice pudding taken away. “And just as I was about to tell you about the day Mr. Nigel-”
“Perhaps another time,” said Val.
Promising to come again and receiving no further protests, I scooted out of the house and into the Land Rover. During the minute it took to reach the end of the drive, I congratulated myself on a successful second meeting with the woman from Ben’s past. She hadn’t insulted me with a gushing greeting, and I hadn’t ripped off her eyelashes. All very civilized. I parked and went up the steps to Cragstone’s front door, eager to know the nature of the surprise in store.
I wasn’t to be kept wondering. Ariel pounced on me as I stepped over the threshold.
“Here you are, Ellie!” She grabbed my arm. “But where’s Mrs. Malloy?”
“Spending the evening with her sister.”
“Oh, no! She can’t possibly. We’ll have to rush over and kidnap her!”
“Ariel? What’s going on?”
“If you’d listened when I tried to tell you earlier, you’d know all about it! And nothing would have kept Mrs. Malloy from being here.” She stepped back to glare at me, through the typically askew spectacles. “Madam LaGrange is what’s happening.”
“Say that again?”
“When Mrs. Malloy told me about her, last night, and said Madam’s new specialty is conducting seances, I knew I had to get her to perform one here because it would please Betty so much she might ask you and Ben and Mrs. Malloy to stay. Well, that all worked out anyway. But phoning Madam LaGrange this morning at Merlin’s Court, and arranging for her to come by train and take a taxi here, isn’t a wasted effort on my part. A seance will be enormous fun. Of course I had to promise she’d be paid triple her usual rate in addition to traveling expenses, but I knew that even if Dad threw a fit Betty wouldn’t begrudge the money if she could have a revealing chat with Mr. Gallagher.”
“Did you get Madam LaGrange’s phone number from Mrs. Malloy?” I asked, through my own trance.
“No. I looked it up in the phone book. If Mrs. Malloy had any idea, do you think she’d still be with her boring old sister?”
“Probably not.” My lips moved, but was the voice coming out of my mouth my own?
“I suppose it’s too late to go and get her now. Madam La-Grange will be here in ten minutes if she takes the train I told her to. Luckily I still had the timetable I’d used to get to your place.” Ariel scowled ferociously. “Oh, I do hate families!”
“So I’ve noticed.” Betty appeared out of nowhere. “Go upstairs and at least comb your hair if you insist on being at the seance.”
“Why shouldn’t I be? I’d think you’d want me there in case you get frightened when Mr. Gallagher asks you to join him for an evening in the grave. Dad won’t be any use; he’ll be asleep.”
“Go!”
Ariel scampered and Betty turned to me. “Tom went against me as usual and said I should appreciate the effort she’d made for me and let her be there. I suppose it was sweet of her, but I can’t help wondering what she’s got up her sleeve. If you’re hungry, Ellie, there’s the quiche we had for lunch and some sandwiches Ben made. After Ariel dropped her bombshell, it seemed best to let everyone forage for themselves instead of having a sit-down dinner.”
“Where is Ben?”
“Somewhere. Probably with Tom having a scoffing session about the seance. Men just don’t get these things.” Betty pressed tiny fingers to her brow. “I do hope I’m not getting a headache. It was stressful having Ariel make her announcement with the Edmondses and Val present. It seemed ungracious not to ask them to participate, but I really didn’t want them. From what I’ve heard, Nigel Gallagher didn’t enjoy large gatherings. And it would be so disappointing if the numbers kept him away.”
“What makes you so sure he was murdered?” I asked her.
“Besides the inexplicable events that Ariel is bound to have told you about, it’s a feeling deep inside.” Betty gave up on her brow and moved her hand to her breast. “I think I’ve always been a little psychic, and now this house has brought it to the fore. Finally I have a talent for something… It’s rather nice.”
“I can see that.” If it were real, and not the wishful thinking of a woman who suddenly found herself with too much time on her hands and an emotional void to fill.
Betty had started to say something else as the doorbell rang. “That will be her!” She hurried forward. “I do hope she’s not too theatrical; Tom will hate that. But it’ll be a letdown for me if she looks as if she should be pushing a grocery cart around Tesco’s.”
The hall filled with people. Tom and Ben came out of the dining room. Ariel raced down the stairs. She didn’t appear to have combed her hair, but she had added a string of red beads to her ensemble. Madam LaGrange couldn’t reasonably complain about the welcoming party. And I decided upon her entrance that she looked just as a psychic should, meaning she conformed to the image I had formed in my mind when Mrs. Malloy talked about her: reasonably tall, sturdily built, and dressed all in black from the silk scarf wound around her head to her flowing skirt. There might be a touch too much fringe and red lipstick for Tom’s taste and not quite enough for Ariel’s, but Betty
