“Heavens, no!” Kim said. “It’s because of Elizabeth’s grave. Please don’t let on about the head. The last thing I want is to give him an excuse to interfere with this renovation project.”
They descended the stairs and stepped outside. John was standing at the edge of the trench, looking down at Elizabeth’s coffin. Kim made the introductions. John was polite but curt. He took Kim aside.
“It’s a bloody unfortunate coincidence for George Harris to blunder onto this grave,” he said. “I told him to keep it quiet, and I trust you will do the same. I don’t want your mother to find out about this. It’ll put her in a tailspin. She’ll be sick for a month.”
“There’s no reason for me to tell anyone,” Kim said.
“Frankly I’m surprised that it is here,” John said. “I’d been told that Elizabeth had been buried in a common grave someplace west of Salem center. What about this stranger you have here? Does he know about the grave?”
“Edward is not a stranger,” Kim said. “And yes, he knows about the grave. He even knows about Elizabeth.”
“I thought we had an understanding that you wouldn’t be telling people about Elizabeth,” John said.
“I didn’t tell him,” Kim said. “Stanton Lewis did.”
“God damn your mother’s side of the family,” John mumbled as he turned around and walked back to where Edward was patiently waiting.
“The story of Elizabeth Stewart is privileged information,” John said to Edward. “I hope you will respect that.”
“I understand,” Edward said evasively. He wondered what John would say if he knew about the head in the car.
Seemingly satisfied, John diverted his attention to the cottage. At Kim’s suggestion he deigned to look briefly at the construction. It was a quick tour. Back outside he hesitated as he was about to leave. Looking at Edward he said, “Kim’s a fine, sensible girl. She’s very warm and loving.”
“I think so too,” Edward said.
John got into his car and drove off. Kim watched him until the car disappeared in the trees. “He has such an uncanny ability to irritate me,” Kim fumed. “The problem is he doesn’t even realize how belittling it is to be treated like a teenager and called a girl.”
“At least he was being complimentary,” Edward said.
“Complimentary my foot!” Kim said. “That was a self-serving comment. It was his way of trying to take credit for the way I’ve turned out. But he had nothing to do with it. He was never there for me. He has no clue that being a real father or husband is a lot more than providing food and shelter.”
Edward put his arm around Kim’s shoulder. “It’s not going to accomplish anything to get yourself all worked up about it now,” he said.
Kim abruptly turned to Edward. “I had an idea last night,” she said. “What about you moving into the cottage with me come September first?”
Edward stumbled over his words. His stutter reappeared. “That’s very generous,” he managed to say.
“I think it is a wonderful idea,” Kim said. “This place has more than enough space, and you have to find a new apartment anyway. What do you say?”
“Thank you,” Edward stammered. “I don’t know quite what to say. Maybe we should talk about it.”
“Talk about it?” Kim questioned. She’d not expected to be rejected. Flowers from Edward were still arriving at her apartment on a daily basis.
“I’m just afraid you are inviting me impulsively,” Edward explained. “I guess I’m afraid you’ll change your mind and then not know how to disinvite me.”
“Is that really your reason for feeling reluctant?” Kim asked. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a hug. “Okay,” she added. “We can talk about it. But I’m not going to change my mind.”
Later, when they had exhausted discussing the renovation, Kim asked Edward if he’d be willing to spend a little time up at the castle going through the old papers. She explained that his comment the previous evening about discovering the nature of the evidence used against Elizabeth had given her a renewed impetus. Edward said he didn’t mind in the slightest and that he was happy to accompany her.
Arriving at the castle, Kim suggested they try the attic instead of the wine cellar. Edward was initially agreeable, but when they got up there, they discovered it was extremely hot. Even after opening the dormer windows, it was still uncomfortable. Edward quickly lost interest.
“Why do I have the feeling you’re not enjoying this?” Kim said. Edward had taken a drawer over to the window, but instead of searching through it, he was staring outside.
“I guess I’m preoccupied with the new alkaloids,” Edward said. “I’m eager to get to the lab to work on them.”
“Why don’t you drive back to town and go do your thing?” Kim said. “I’ll take the train back later.”
“Good idea,” Edward said. “But I’ll take the train.”
After a mini-argument which Edward won because there was no way for Kim to get to the train station later that afternoon, they walked back to the cottage and climbed into the car. Halfway to their destination, Kim suddenly remembered Elizabeth’s head in the backseat.
“No problem,” Edward said. “I’m taking it with me.”
“On the train?” Kim asked.
“Why not,” Edward said. “It’s in a box.”
“I want that back up here ASAP,” Kim said. “They’ll be filling in that trench as soon as the utilities are in.”
“I’ll be finished with it in no time,” Edward assured her. “I’m just hoping there’s something in it to sample. If there isn’t maybe I could try for the liver.”
“We’re not going back into that coffin for anything but to put this head back,” Kim said. “Not with my father hovering around. To make matters worse, he is apparently in contact with the contractor.”
Kim dropped Edward off at the top of the stairs that led down to the train station. Edward lifted the plumbing supply box off the backseat.
“Want to meet for dinner?” Edward asked.
“I think not,” Kim said. “I’ve got to get back to my apartment. I’ve got laundry to do, and I’ve got to get up early for work.”
“Let’s at least talk on the phone,” Edward said.
“It’s a deal,” Kim said.
As much as Edward relished spending time with Kim, he was glad to get back to his lab. He was especially happy to see Eleanor, whom he did not expect to be there. She’d gone home, showered, and slept, but only for four or five hours. She said she was too excited to stay away.
The first thing she did was show him the mass spectrometry results. She was now certain that they were dealing with three new alkaloids. After talking with him that morning she’d spent time researching the results; there was no way they could have been made by any known compounds.
“Are there any more sclerotia?” Edward asked.
“A few,” Eleanor said. “Kevin Scranton said more will be on their way, but he didn’t know when. I didn’t want to sacrifice the ones we have until I’d spoken with you. How do you want to separate the alkaloids? With organic solvents?”
“Let’s use capillary electrophoresis,” Edward said. “If necessary we can go to micellular electrokinetic capillary chromatography.”
“Should I run a crude sample like I did with the mass spec?” Eleanor asked.
“No,” Edward said. “Let’s extract the alkaloids with distilled water and precipitate them with a weak acid. That’s what I did over at the biological labs and it worked fine. We’ll get purer samples, which will make structural work easier.”
Eleanor started toward her bench space, but Edward grabbed her arm. “Before you start on the extraction I want you to do something else,” he said. With no preamble he opened the plumbing supply box and lifted out the mummified head. Eleanor recoiled at the ghoulish sight.
“You could have warned me,” she said.
“I suppose I could have,” Edward said with a laugh. For the first time he looked at the head with a critical eye. It was rather lurid. The skin was dark brown, almost mahogany in color. It had dried to a leathery texture and retracted over the bony prominences, exposing the teeth in a gruesome smile. The hair was dried and matted like steel wool.