“If it were a ghost,” said Mrs. Malloy, “I know just the person to-”
Unwilling to let her get started on Madam LaGrange, I cut her off. “Let’s get back to what else has you worried, Ariel, beyond the incidents that you admit can be explained away.”
The expression on the girl’s face was hard to read. “The thing is, most of them have happened to Betty, who’s far from my favorite person and likes to draw attention to herself. But she doesn’t have enough imagination-seeing as she never reads anything beyond fashion magazines that don’t do her any good-to make things up on a grand scale. She’s a really boring person. I don’t think Dad minds a bit that she moved into a bedroom of her own because of his horrible snoring. At least it stopped some of her nagging. I don’t see how he could ever have been in love with her after being married to my mother. Grandma Hopkins said she was an angel that God wanted back in heaven. Honestly, I wish Dad and Betty would be sensible and get a divorce. But of course he’d never consider it because he’s such a strict Catholic. He wouldn’t even go for an annulment. He told me once when he heard of a couple from church getting one that such loopholes should be reserved for marriages that haven’t been consummated. And horrible as it is to think about, he has had sex with Betty. He admitted it when he was giving me the Talk.” Her voice capitalized it. “They’ve done it more than once, too, not just to get it over with.” She shuddered. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve all this grief. Perhaps I was a murderer, or something equally wicked, in a past life.”
“Interesting you should bring that up-” began Mrs. Malloy.
Again I hurried to prevent the interjection of Madam La-Grange. “Ariel, what frightening things have happened to Betty?”
“She went into the study one morning-she always goes in there first thing to have her coffee-and found a funeral wreath, a horrible moldy one that looked as if it were weeks old, hanging on the nail that used to hold Mr. Gallagher’s portrait. And another time she discovered three dead ravens on her bedroom windowsill.” Ariel paused, to good effect. “As I just said, she has her own bedroom, so Dad can’t say whether this next thing is true or not, but last week she was woken in the middle of the night-or so she says-by a mournful disembodied voice calling her name. When she asked what it wanted, it said, “Help me, Betty, get me out of this dark place!” And then the shadow of a man with a lion’s-head walking stick appeared on the wall at the foot of the bed. Mr. Gallagher has… had… a lion’s-head walking stick.”
Clearly thrilled to the core, Mrs. Malloy was rendered speechless, leaving me to ask Ariel if she had believed her stepmother.
“Like I said, I’m not her biggest fan, but I can’t see her making it up, even to get attention. If that had been the idea, wouldn’t she have screamed the house down and brought Dad running, and maybe even me? But she didn’t say anything until the next day. And she was quite calm about it. She said it confirmed her suspicions that Lady Fiona had murdered her husband, and she was going to draw up a plan of the grounds and start digging in likely spots.”
“Was that before or after Mrs. Cake fell, or was maybe even pushed, down the stairs?” Mrs. Malloy was on the rim of her chair.
“Before. And I know what you’re getting at.” Ariel shrugged. “It explains why Betty was sure Mrs. Cake had seen Mr. Gallagher’s ghost.”
“Okay,” I said. “We have two choices here. Either Betty is producing these stage effects for her own reasons, or someone is attempting to frighten the life out of her.”
“I’ve been telling you, Betty’s not scared. She’s not that sort. A bomb could go off under her and she wouldn’t blink. She sees herself as a cute Miss Marple about to show the police they’ve had the wool pulled over their eyes. This is giving her something to do, now that she doesn’t go out to work and hasn’t any ideas on how to turn Cragstone into a showplace. Val’s taken over that job.”
“Who?” Mrs. Malloy and I inquired in unison.
“Val. She’s the one who wears silly high heels like yours.” Ariel eyed Mrs. M’s feet disparagingly. “The weird thing is that Betty, who’s not keen on getting in thick with people these days because she thinks they’ll try to squeeze money out of her and Dad, seems quite okay with Val. Mrs. Cake says it’s hard not to take to someone who’s not only helpful but also lovely to look at. And I suppose Val doesn’t look bad for someone over thirty.”
“Is she a new acquaintance?” I repositioned myself as Tobias climbed onto my lap.
“She moved into the Dower House a couple of months ago to take care of her great-aunt, who was Mr. Gallagher’s nanny when he was a little boy. The nanny’s really doddery now and very upset that he’s gone, besides being angry that Lady Fiona, whom she never liked, sold Cragstone when Mr. G wasn’t around to have any say about it.”
“That seems one point against her ladyship having murdered him and buried the body somewhere on the grounds. Even without Betty conducting a search, there’s the risk of the grave being discovered. Far better, I’d think, for her ladyship to stay put in the ancestral home.”
“She had to sell. Her finances were in a terrible mess.”
“How about your dad’s response to what’s been going on?” Mrs. Malloy, who had patently resented the insult to her footwear, managed a smile.
“He’s afraid people will get wind of Betty’s suspicions about Lady Fiona and insist she’s trying to destroy the woman’s character. He says there’ll be a lawsuit for defamation-Lady Fiona could use the money-and it will be in all the papers: COUPLE WHO WON LOTTERY ACCUSES FORMER HOUSE OWNER OF MURDER. Dad’s got a horror of the press because of the articles written about the accident that killed my mother. That’s one reason I want to find out what’s really going on-such as Nanny Pierce trying to drive us out of the house so that Mr. Gallagher can move back in when he returns from his travels.”
“A doddery old lady indulging in scare tactics?”
Ariel shifted restlessly in her chair. “Val could be helping her. Maybe that’s the real reason she moved into the Dower House and has been so helpful to Betty with the decorating. It gives her the perfect excuse to be in and out of Withering… Cragstone all the time. Maybe Nanny has promised to leave her a nice inheritance in return for her cooperation.”
I smiled. “You’ve read those gothic novels I sent you.”
“But you’re the expert on them, Ellie. You know how the plots are woven to lead readers astray… making us think we’ve figured out what’s going on and then springing a throat-gripping surprise at the end. What if both Betty and I have got it wrong? What if it isn’t Nanny Pierce who wants us out of Cragstone, but someone else who resents our moving in? Like Mr. Scrimshank, who’s a walking creep show. Just wait till you meet him!” She gave Mrs. Malloy a pitying look. “Perhaps he’s madly, obsessively in love with Lady Fiona and thinks that if we are forced out no one else will dare buy the place and she’ll get it back for next to nothing.”
“Or could the prankster be Mrs. Cake, the devoted cook?” I was compelled to suggest. “I know you’re fond of her, Ariel, but she’d need to appear likable and trustworthy in order for her scheme to work, wouldn’t she?”