In Like Flynn (11 page)

“Please, Cousin, I beg you,” I stammered. “Anyone would think I had come here to take advantage of your largesse.”

“Why did you come, Cousin Molly?” Belinda asked. “Was it to avoid an unsuitable suitor at home?”

“No, nothing like that. Ireland’s a small country. I wanted to experience a bigger one.”

“Will you travel west and see the Great Plains, do you think?” Cousin Clara asked. “You must get your traveling in before winter arrives. Half the country is snowed in for the season and I'm sure you wouldn't want that.”

“She’s not going anywhere for a long while,” Theresa said firmly. “I'm keeping her here with me. You are my new toy, Molly, and 111 not relinquish you.”

We looked up as Bamey came in. “Any food left for me?” he asked. He lifted one lid, then a second. “Barely enough to feed a sparrow. Have you been stuffing yourself again, Clara?”

I could tell that the remark was a good-natured tease but Clara bristled. “Really Barney, sometimes you go too far. You know that I have a most modest appetite. I ate one of your eggs and two of your slices of bacon, if you really want to know, and if you'd like reimbursement for them then I'm sure—”

“Sit down, Clara. Relax. Can't a fellow have a lighthearted moment in his own home?”

“Not if it’s at my expense,” Clara said.

Bamey spooned a good mound of food onto his plate. “So I gather I just missed the company of a Van Gelder?”

Young Roland, sent over to see how many of us are coming to dinner.”

Bamey chuckled. “Sent over, my foot. Don't they have a tele-phone any longer? You know full well why he was sent. They want your voodoo ladies to hold a seance for them. She’s been trying to snag them for years and now you've outsmarted her. Van Gelders can't allow themselves to be outsmarted by mere Irish peasants.”

“Really, Bamey” Theresa looked annoyed. “Must you see the basest motive in everything?”

“I've seen too much of human nature, my dear, just as you have seen too little, and I can tell you with utter conviction that the Van Gelders would never have invited us to dinner if the Misses Sorensen were not currently under our roof.”

“Then if that’s how you feel, why did you accept their invitation?” Theresa asked coldly

Barney laughed out loud. “What, and miss a chance to eat old Van Gelder’s food?”

Theresa got up and moved away from the table. Cousin Clara followed her. I ate as quickly as I could, wanting also to make my escape. Only Belinda lingered on, chatting happily with Bamey.

As I made my way back to my room, I heard voices through an open door.

“You shouldn't let him get away with it, Theresa. You should re-mind him that it was your money in the first place. Make him dance to your tune.”

“Don't be so naive, Clara. You know full well that Barney is beyond dancing to anyone’s tune. I just wonder how much longer I can take it.”

Twelve

T
hat evening five of us piled into the automobile to bedriven across to the Van Gelders' house. The chauffeur wasthen to come back for Miss Emily and Miss Ella, who hadgraciously agreed to join the party, although they were a little reluctant on the question of the séance.

“The atmosphere does have to be right, or the spirits simply won't come,” Miss Ella had said.

Meaning that the room needed a lot of black swathing and lackof light to perform their tricks, I decided. I was interested to see what they would do in a room that had not been rigged up first.

I sat beside Belinda and Clara in the backseat, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. I was wearing one of those instruments of female torture called corsets. Unfortunately Theresa had sent the maid, Alice, up to help me dress for the occasion. Since I didn't want the maid to swoon at the sight of an uncorseted woman, I had had toendure holding onto the bedpost while she tugged at various lacesas if wrestling with a reluctant stallion and finally brought my waistline down to acceptable standards. Not without criticism, however.

“Why, miss, your waist is almost as broad as my own,” she said in a disapproving voice. “The mistress’s waist can be spanned by the master’s hands, and she has delivered two children, you know.”

“We don't go in for corsets much in Ireland,” I said. “We find them too restricting.”

“Mercy me. You just run around with your insides flopping all over the place?” She finished hooking the low back of my ball gown. “It must indeed be a wild, heathen place.”

So now I was sitting in the car, trying hard to breathe. I certainly wouldn't be able to eat a morsel at dinner. And the corset was just the latest in a line of faux pas committed this day. I had been summoned to play croquet and had appeared on the lawn—gasp—without a parasol.

“Molly!” Theresa had exclaimed. “You'll get freckles.” As if I didn't have enough already from a lifetime in the open air. Then I had whacked the croquet ball in an unlady like manner and—gasp again—sat on the grass, where I should surely get a chill and die of pneumonia. As we bumped up the driveway in the automobile,I found myself very glad that I was not a conventional young lady and that I had grown up wild and heathen!

All in all it had been a frustrating day. I was itching to get to work and question anyone who might have known Bertie Morell, or even do some snooping in the Sorensen Sisters' cottage, but Theresa had kept me close beside her every moment. She had babbled incessantly about plans for dressmakers and what colors really did justice to red hair, making me so hot and uncomfortable that I could hardly endure another moment. But she seemed so lively and animated that I hadn't the heart to stop her. Barney had hoped I'd be doing her some good and it seemed as if this was indeed so. I just wasn't doing the job for which I was being paid.

The driveway went on and on, with the dark shapes of trees looming on either side of us before we came to the gate—a tall, wrought-iron structure that was opened for us by the a burly gatekeeper. Then another half mile of darkness bouncing down an unpaved road with not a single light visible until we turned in at another fortresslike gateway to Riverside, the Van Gelders' mansion. Riverside had none of its neighbor’s extravagance of design. It was a square brick residence, with simple eighteenth-century lines and white shutters. As our wraps were being taken from us, Mrs. Van Gelder came out into the hallway to meet us.

“I am so delighted that you have agreed to grace our home, Mrs. Flynn,” she said, embracing Theresa. “And you, Senator. We are honored.”

While Theresa was presenting the rest of us, Mrs. Van Gelder’s eyes were darting around. “You didn't bring the rest of your party? The Misses Sorensen are not coming after all?”

“We've sent the auto back for them,” Theresa said. “It only seats five at the most and they were not quite ready”

“Ah, splendid. Do come and meet my husband. Theo—our neighbors are here!”

She led us through to a rather austere reception room where Roland Van Gelder and his father waited. The elder Mr. Van Gelder’s face seemed to be frozen in a severe and permanent scowl. The scowl didn't waver as we came in.

“Mrs. Flynn. Senator,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “Good to have you here. How’s the reelection campaign going?”

“Hasn't really started yet,” Barney said, “and how about you? Will you be running again, or are you thinking of handing your seat over to the younger generation?”

“Roland?” Van Gelder glared at his son. “He couldn't run an egg-and-spoon race.”

“Really, Father, I must protest,” Roland said. “You haven't exactly educated me for much, have you? If I'd studied law at Harvard—”

“You need brains to study law. Unfortunately, you've inherited your mother’s scatterbrain mentality. Not your fault, I suppose, but not the stuff that politicians are made of.”

Roland frowned at his father, helped himself to a generous amount of whiskey, and made his way over to Belinda. The rest ofis stood around awkwardly.

“And where are the famous spirit ladies?” Van Gelder asked. “Did you decide not to share them after all?”

I couldn't recall meeting anyone so offensive and wondered who might have voted for him. But Theresa, sweet as always, merely smiled. “They are on their way. We only own one automobile, you know, and the chauffeur has returned for them.” She slipped her arm through mine. “In the meantime, may I present our guests—my cousin, Clara Tompkins, my sister, Belinda Butler, and my husband’s cousin, Molly Gaffney, newly arrived from Ireland.”

“You're most welcome, ladies. How about a drink to counteract the chilly night air?” And he led us to a drinks table where he began pouring. Compared to the Flynns' establishment there was adistinct lack of servants.

“Roland mentioned you had some other young men staying with you?” Theresa asked, looking around hopefully.

“We do. Son of a friend of mine. English fellow. And his army pal. They're doing what all young Englishmen do—out to snag rich American brides. Where the deuce are they, Sophie?”

Mrs. Van Gelder scurried to his side. “They returned late from today’s outing and will be down as soon as they have made themselves respectable. Such nice boys. You girls could do worse.” She gave a knowing smile to Belinda and me. “Both have considerable properties over in England, so we understand.”

“Why does everyone think we are desperate to be found a husband?” Belinda whispered in my ear. It was her first friendly overture.

“Like you, I intend to find my own husband some day,” I whispered back, “but not too soon.”

We exchanged a smile. Allies for a moment.

Noises in the entrance hall indicated the arrival of the Sorensen Sisters. Mrs. Van Gelder flew out to greet them and swept them into the room, gushing effusively over them. “And we'd be so honored if you'd just show us a small example of your powers…. Longing to meet you for years … such a wonderful gift. … The dearly departed … always feel their presence.”

Miss Emily and Miss Ella both looked a little flustered, but accepted glasses of sherry when pressed.

“I really don't think—” Miss Emily began.

“Not really conducive to visiting spirits—” Miss Ella seconded. Both were waved aside by the force of Mrs. Van Gelder’s will. “I am sure that Riverside, being an older and more noble establishment than the recently built Adare, will be quite to the liking of any spirit worth its salt,” she said firmly. “I have set up the morning room for you. I thought that since we had promised the young people dancing after dinner, we should have our séance now, while we're waiting for the young men to join us. I am sure they have no interest in contacting the dead. Why don't we go through?”

I had to watch with admiration. Mrs. Van Gelder was a small woman, not unlike portraits I had seen of Queen Victoria. She had the same force of personality as the old queen, I noted, as the two sisters allowed themselves to be swept out of the room again, followed by the rest of us.

Chairs had been set in a circle in an adjoining room.

“This will do, won't it?” Mrs. Van Gelder asked.

The sisters looked around. The rest of us held our breath.

Finally Miss Emily nodded. “We may be able to entice our spirit guide to manifest himself here. Well just have to see. But no electric light, if you please. Just one candle.”

A candle was lit. Grotesque shadows danced on the walls. We took our places in the circle. Miss Emily shook her head.

“We have unbelievers present. I can feel it. Chief Ojuweca certainly won't be enticed to come in the presence of those who mock him.”

Barney nudged Mr. Van Gelder. “He means us, old sport. I suspect you don't believe in this any more than I do. Why don't we go and visit your Scotch decanter until the ladies are done?”

“Excellent idea.” Mr. Van Gelder looked almost kindly toward his arch enemy. They departed. A hush fell upon the rest of us. The candle flickered in the draft from the closing door.

“Please take hands,” Miss Emily instructed. “I sense a presence. Are you with us, Chief Ojuweca?”

The candle flickered, but there was no voice.

“If you are present, signify by rapping once.”

A mighty rap made everyone jump

“He’s here,” Mrs. Van Gelder said in an excited stage whisper. “I wonder if we are going to see him.”

“Will you reveal yourself to us tonight, Chief Ojuweca?” Miss Ella asked.

Two loud and disapproving raps. It was hard to tell where they were coming from. I could see Miss Emily’s and Miss Ella’s hands. They were joined with the others in the circle.

“May we ask what has displeased you?” Miss Ella said.

“There are still unbelievers present,” came a distant voice from somewhere up in the ceiling. “If they choose to stay, it is at their own peril. They may see what they would not want to see.”

Even though I knew this was another trick, I felt sweat tricklingdown my bare back.

“Will no spirits choose to visit us tonight?” Miss Ella persisted.

“We shall wait and see,” said the voice. “Patience.”

We waited. Then five loud raps made everyone jump.

“Who is here?” Miss Ella asked.

Cousin Clara glanced across the room and gave a shriek. “Look, there on the table!”

A disembodied hand was moving across a side table, glowing with a light of its own. Then suddenly it vanished.

“Who are you?” Miss Ella asked, her voice now sharp and taut with fear.

“Peace. He is my messenger,” said Chief Ojuweca. “He escorts the spirits you seek. Wait and see.”

Then there came a tiny voice, no more than a whisper. “Mommy?”

Theresa jumped to her feet. “Brendan!” she gasped, shaking her hand clear of mine. “It’s Brendan. Where are you, my love? Speak to me.”

“Sit down, please,” Miss Ella admonished.

“But I must speak to him. Tell him I'm here if he doesn't know. Brendan, my love, speak to me.” She pushed her way out of the circle. A chair clattered over. Then silence.

“It’s no good,” Miss Emily said. “You've driven them away. Theywon't come back tonight. The spirits are sometimes very shy, you know. As I said earlier, I sensed that the atmosphere wasn't quite right this evening. The spirits do not like it if we try to make a spectacle of them or use them for our own benefit.” I found this ironic coming from a woman who had done this on the stage until her finances permitted her to conduct only private séances.

“Turn the electric light on, please,” Miss Ella commanded.

I was closest to the switch. As I got to my feet and walked toward the door, I became aware of a figure standing there in deep shadow. Suddenly I realized that I recognized him. It was Justin Hartley, the man I had killed a year ago.