Edward went on to tell Kim everything that had happened at Kevin Scranton’s office.
Kim’s response was concerned disbelief. “You took a drug without knowing what it was?” she asked. “Wasn’t that dangerous?”
“You sound like Kevin.” Edward laughed. “I’m surrounded by ersatz parents. No, it wasn’t dangerous. It was too small a dose to be dangerous. But, being small, it certainly indicated the hallucinogenic power of this new fungus.”
“It sounds foolhardy to me,” Kim persisted.
“It wasn’t,” Edward said. “I even had a urinalysis and a creatinine blood test this afternoon for Kevin’s sake. They were both normal. I’m fine. Believe me. In fact, I’m better than fine. I’m ecstatic. At first I was hoping this new fungus would make the same mix of alkaloids as Claviceps so it would prove ergotism was the culprit. Now I’m hoping it makes its own alkaloids.”
“What are alkaloids?” Kim asked. “It’s a familiar term but I couldn’t define it to save my life.”
“Alkaloids are a large group of nitrogen-containing compounds found in plants,” Edward said. “They’re familiar to you because many of them are common, like caffeine, morphine, and nicotine. As you can guess, most are pharmacologically active.”
“Why are you getting so excited about finding some new ones if they are so common?” Kim asked.
“Because I’ve already proven whatever alkaloid is in this new fungus, it’s psychotropically active,” Edward said. “Finding a new hallucinogenic drug can open up all sorts of doors to the understanding of brain function. Invariably they resemble and mimic the brain’s own neurotransmitters.”
“When will you know if you’ve found new alkaloids?” Kim asked.
“Soon,” Edward said. “Now tell me about your day.”
Kim took a breath. Then she related to Edward everything that had happened to her, in chronological order, starting with her talk with her father and ending with the completion of the design for the new kitchen and baths for the cottage.
“Wow!” Edward said, “you did have a busy day. I’m astounded by the discovery of Elizabeth’s grave. And you said the coffin was in good shape?”
“What I could see of it,” Kim said. “It was buried very deep, probably around eight feet down. Its end was sticking into the trench. It had been damaged by the backhoe.”
“Did finding the grave upset you?” Edward asked.
“In a way,” Kim said with a short mirthless laugh. ‘ “Thinking about finding it so soon after finding the portrait makes me feel weird. It gave me that feeling again that Elizabeth is trying to communicate with me.”
“Uh oh,” Edward said. “Sounds like you are having another attack of superstition.”
Kim laughed despite her seriousness.
“Tell me something,” Edward said teasingly. “Are you afraid of black cats crossing your path, or walking under ladders, or using the number thirteen?”
Kim hesitated. She was mildly superstitious, but she’d never given it much thought.
“So you are superstitious!” Edward said. “Now think about this! Back in the seventeenth century you could have been considered a witch since such beliefs involve the occult.”
“All right, smarty pants,” Kim said. “So maybe I’m a little superstitious. But there seem to be too many coincidences involving Elizabeth. I also found out today that the calendar in 1692 is the same as this year’s, 1994. I also found out Elizabeth died at my age. And as if that’s not enough, our birthdays are only two days apart, so we have the same astrological sign.”
“What do you want me to say?” Edward asked.
“Can you explain all these coincidences?” Kim asked.
“Of course,” Edward said. “It’s pure chance. It’s like the old cliché that if you have enough monkeys and enough typewriters, you can produce Hamlet.”
“Oh, I give up,” Kim said with a chuckle. She took a sip of her wine.
“I’m sorry,” Edward said with a shrug. “I’m a scientist.”
“Let me tell you something else I learned today,” Kim said. “Things were not so simple back then. Ronald was married three times. His first wife died, willing him a sizable fortune which was contested unsuccessfully by his wife’s child by a previous marriage. He then married Elizabeth within a couple of years. After Elizabeth died he married her sister in the same year.”
“So?” Edward said.
“Doesn’t that sound a little fishy to you?” Kim asked.
“No,” Edward said. “Remember life was harsh back in those days. Ronald had children to raise. Also, marrying within in-laws was not unusual.”
“Well, I’m not so sure,” Kim said. “It leaves a lot of questions in my mind.”
The waitress appeared and interrupted their conversation to tell them their table was ready. Kim was pleasantly surprised. She didn’t know they were planning to eat at the Harvest. She was famished.
They followed the waitress out onto the terrace and were seated beneath trees filled with tiny white lights. It was a perfect temperature after having cooled down considerably from the day. There was no wind, so the candle on the table burned languidly.
While they were waiting for their food, Kim showed Edward the copy she’d made of Ronald’s petition. Edward read it with great interest. When he was finished he congratulated Kim on her detective work, saying that she’d succeeded in proving Elizabeth had indeed been caught up in the witchcraft affair. Kim told him about her father’s comment concerning Elizabeth’s possible association with the occult.
“Which is what I suggested,” Edward reminded her.
“So would you guess that the conclusive evidence had something to do with the occult?”
“I don’t think there is any question,” Edward said.
“That’s what I thought,” Kim said. “But do you have any specific ideas?”
“I don’t know enough about witchcraft to be creative,” Edward said.
“What about a book?” Kim questioned. “Or something she wrote?”
“Sounds good,” Edward said. “I suppose it could have been something she drew as well. Or at least some kind of image.”
“What about a doll?” Kim suggested.
“Good idea,” Edward said. Then he paused. “I know what it must have been!”
“What?” Kim asked eagerly.
“Her broom!” Edward said. Then he laughed.
“Come on,” Kim said, but she was smiling herself. “I’m being serious.”
Edward apologized. He then went on to explain the background of the witch’s broom, and how it had originated in medieval times with a stick that had been coated with an ointment concocted with hallucinogenic drugs. He told her that in satanic rituals it had been used to cause psychedelic experiences when placed against intimate mucous membranes.
“I’ve heard enough,” Kim said. “I get the idea.”
Their food arrived. They didn’t talk until the waiter had left. Edward was the first to speak. “The problem is that the evidence could have been any one of a number of things, and there’s no way of knowing specifically unless you found a description. What about looking in the court records themselves?”
“I thought of that,” Kim said. “But I was told that none of the records of the special Court of Oyer and Terminer remain.”
“Too bad,” Edward said. “I guess that throws you back into that hopeless pile of papers in the castle.”
“Yeah,” Kim said without enthusiasm. “Plus there’s no guarantee it would be there.”
While they ate their meal the conversation shifted to more mundane issues. It wasn’t until they were finishing their dessert that Edward returned to the issue of Elizabeth’s grave.