Chapter 8

Julia left Thelma with instructions to rest and a promise she'd send Daphne in. She and William descended the staircase in close consultation.

Acknowledging that Julia was personally invested as Samuel had been a friend of hers, William began cautiously. "Mrs. White hopes that this is a tragic accident, yet I suppose we must consider the alternatives…even that one of these 'pranks' went horribly awry." William explained. "Of course, we will examine all of the possibilities, even the more objectionable ones. Accident, or for that matter suicide, at least means there is no murderer with whom we are trapped."

Julia stopped their progress to whisper urgently in his ear. "Yes, William, suicide may be a possibility. But we can't dismiss the motive of blackmail, or that as his cousin and now the closest male relative Bruce Nottingham might inherit the house now…or that Donald Harvey might yet get it for a song. What was it the psychic said? Three can keep a secret if two are dead? I know she was guessing, but what if she had a point? Or someone else thought she did? Was Samuel carrying a secret that someone did not wish to have exposed? Was there some past revenge from school? We certainly can't just say that this is or is not a suicide without investigating it!" she argued hotly.

"It would seem an odd time to choose to end one's life," he said agreeably. In his opinion, Julia was overly emotional about this, even considering the circumstances. Perhaps her hormone treatments? "I need you to remain objective, Julia, please!" he pleaded, grabbing her hands and looking at her.

"William! You know how it irritates me when you treat me like a hysteric! I'm not one of the bored housewives you encounter! Of course I'll remain objective, I just want you to remain open to possibilities," Julia replied then gave herself a good exhale. "Did you really find no indications, nothing suggesting a struggle?"

"I do remain open minded, Julia," he insisted. "The shoreline is too compromised to tell us much of anything, and by its condition I suspect he certainly could have fallen in. It does not take much to miscalculate and suffer a tragedy."

His mind brought him several memories of pulling battered sailors or passengers out of the water or off the beach; bodies which looked very much like Samuel's. My own experience as a youth has taught me that all manner of bad outcomes befall people in and on the water. Drowning to death, he knew, was really not quite the way romantic notions portray it.

It was horribly painful, lingering and terrifying.

"Still, William, an accident, right after a vague threat is still most suspicious." Julia asserted. "Where are those famously-honed detective skills?"

William knew he was going to relent. "Any investigation starts with the physical evidence. The body will need time to ripen those bruises, will it not?" When she indicated 'yes' William suggested they divide and conquer. "We can start by establishing where everyone was from after the séance last night until Samuel's body was found, to include the staff and guests. We shall frame it as wishing to know what Samuel's last hours were to establish a time of death."

Nodding, Julia agreed. "I think that is a good idea, it is less threatening and people will be less likely to be so defensive with us."

"We can begin with our own observations and whereabouts, then get the rest filled in…"

Julia saw William's mind working.

"I have just the thing," he told her. "There is a chalk board in the billiard room I can use that to organize our findings."

"Very well, I will start with speaking with Daphne before I send her up to Thelma, and I will also make arrangements to meet with the staff to interview them," Julia agreed.

"Then I will speak with the other guests." He hesitated. "Julia, you may not like where this goes. We will be uncovering secrets…you know how deadly those can be," he warned. "I know we promised, but I have no jurisdiction here."

"No, you're correct that we don't have any official standing, but as of right now, we're all that there is, and someone has to do it," she countered.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Julia found Daphne in the music room of all places, sitting alone as she stared into the mirror.

"Daphne, I was wondering if I might have a word with you for a moment? I know you're not up to entertaining guests, but I'm just trying to ascertain what Samuel's final hours may have been like, to establish his state of mind, to ascertain whether or not his death was accidental or otherwise…" she trailed off.

"Yes, I figured you might want to talk at some point, no matter that I disagree with Thelma on the whole matter," she shrugged. "Very well then, what would you like to know? The last time I saw him was in this very room, and…" she teared up for a few moments.

"Has Thelma told you that this mirror is really a special two-sided glass?" She asked Julia, pointing towards the mirror.

"Yes," Julia demonstrated by walking over to the object and triggering the hidden latch to open the door, then showing how light from the passageway dissolved Daphne's reflection.

"I never knew it opened from this side." Daphne shook her head, pointing to the mirror. "Is that what scared Leonetta last night?" she asked.

"Most likely, yes. What I'm trying to determine is whether or not anyone knew of your plans to come here, and who?" Julia wondered. "Is it possible that you were the intended target of a prank instead of Leonetta? Or was there no intended target and whomever just happened to be the first to walk in would be the victim?" Julia asked.

She sighed with feeling. "I do sometimes think I am that unlucky. I tripped on one of the hall carpets, so righting myself and straightening the rug delayed me a moment allowing Leonetta to get to the music room before me." She shrugged. "There was so much going on with that fortune teller and all, but pranking me? I never went to school with any of them."

"Who knew you were coming to this room?"

"I told Grant where we were going. It wasn't a secret that Leonetta and I were going to look for music. I suppose anyone could have overheard and snuck off before I left."

Julia had to agree with that. "What do you know about the pranks?"

"Sam said it was a way of bonding with the other male students…and getting the female students at McGill to cling to the lads." She shrugged her shoulders at the idea.

"I see." Julia wanted to know more about Samuel's state of mind from those who knew him best. "Daphne, how had your brother… been... lately? Had you noticed any changes in him?" She watched Daphne's open face closely as the woman's thoughts and feelings fought with each other. It took a while before one side declared victory.

Daphne half smiled. "Sam was Sam… which meant he sheltered me. I do know he was unhappy dealing with Donald Harvey."

"Was anyone else arguing with your brother?"

"Oh, no, Sam did not have any words with Donald." Daphne's head sunk to her chest, taking a moment to think. "It was yesterday afternoon. I heard Samuel and Grant having words. At first I thought it may have something to do with me, so I listened. But Grant was telling Sam that he didn't always have to do what he wanted. He said Sam could put his foot down and tell him enough, but Sam replied that it wasn't that simple. I don't know to whom they were referring. At that point, I didn't wish to remain silent any longer, and I announced my presence. They quickly changed topic," she replied. "But the real problem was when Thelma announced the guest list."

"Oh?"

"Caroline Balfour. He tried to order Thelma to rescind the invitation." Daphne looked like she'd cry again. "I have no idea why."

Julia tried not to show her surprise. Most curious. "One more thing. Can you tell me to whom I might speak about interviewing your staff? William and I will need to talk with the servants who were here last night, a list of their names perhaps as well? Perhaps one of them knows something about Samuel's movements last night or this morning."

Daphne frowned. "You recall he left the séance to manage the staff? We do not keep a proper household, not like grandmamma did. Most of the servants were hired from town for the day and decided to go home despite the storm. Baylis and Roger Shaggis room over the carriage house with Baylis' sister. In the house overnight, we only have Cook, two kitchen aides, one maid and one manservant today. You should talk with Cook first." She coloured. "We are rather short staffed. Thelma does not want anyone to know…"

So many petty secrets. "And I won't tell anyone, Daphne. Thank you for speaking with me. Thelma has been asking for you, perhaps you could go up to her?"

"Yes, I suppose that the scene in the music room put a rather abrupt end to our dinner party, and I suggested to Sam that we bachelors all enjoy a drink in the study to wind down from all the excitement. It was the Harrington Twins, Sam and I of course. Enjoyed some fine single malt scotch and then scuttered off to bed ourselves about an hour after everyone else," the man replied as he looked methodically through the collection of books.

Julia looked at Grant King's studied casualness, thinking he might be a little drunk already or just very good at hiding his feelings about his best friend's death.

"Of course there was no surprise that Sam put me in the same room as he. No sneaking off for a bit of fun in the middle of the night with him there…not that Daphne would have been in the mood for such after what happened," he replied gesturing towards the music room.

"What time was this?" Julia wondered.

"About midnight, I suppose. I woke up briefly about five-thirty to visit the water closet. I must have woken him up, I guess, as he got dressed soon afterwards, saying something about surveying storm damage around the property at dawn," Grant murmured, staring into the distance. "Such a damned shame, I never saw him again. I wish now I had offered to make the rounds with him," he said, shaking his head.

Julia just could not fathom Grant's oddly detached attitude. "Please forgive me for seeming intrusive, but I'm trying to gather all of the facts. Daphne said she overheard the two of you having a disagreement of sorts. You were admonishing Sam for not standing his ground, but she says she didn't hear anything more," Julia pressed on.

"Sam was not enjoying himself this weekend, that much was clear. You saw him Julia, is that the Sam you remember from school? He was but a pale copy of his usually vibrant personality. Instead of being himself, he was following that oaf Harvey around, agreeing to whatever he wished like he was beholden to Harvey, that he needed to go along with his wishes, and I told him to say no. By then, I was starting to think that maybe there was something going on, but alas, I never got the chance to talk to him again in private," he shrugged.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The mood in the drawing room was, quite naturally, subdued. William spent a moment observing the guests with a new appreciation, seeing grief, worry, and irritation in relatively equal proportions.

What secrets were these bright individuals harbouring?

He knew there were always secrets, the trick was knowing which ones were pertinent. He saw Dorcas Harvey was sitting by herself, having been abandoned once again by her husband. If he had his druthers he'd go after Donald Harvey straight away, so for that reason alone he was going to make that conversation be the last one: he wanted to be armed with as much information as possible before asking Mr. Harvey anything.

Could any of these people have contributed in any way to Samuel Wilmont's death?

He sighed. Once committed, William Murdoch was going to see this through—one interview at a time. He decided to start with Josiah Atkinson by leaning on the acquaintance they scraped with each other over snooker. He approached the man and pulled him aside.

Atkinson looked at William from over his glasses. "Police officer, eh?"

William admitted it with a self-deprecating smile. He had been thinking hard about how to frame the questions he wanted to ask. This was his first chance to try it out: "Were you aware of anything pertaining to Mr. Wilmont that might help understand his death?"

Josiah was thoughtful. "No, only that he was foolish to go out by himself into the water! I think Bruce is right, what other explanation is there?"

William did not answer. He followed with the next question. "What do you think about these odd events this house and its guests have been experiencing?"

"Having never been here before I have nothing to compare it to, but my wife tells me the Harringtons, Samuel Wilmont and Donald Harvey were rather merciless in their puerile antics whilst at McGill. Even Bruce Nottingham got in the mix until it went too far one night and Rose put her foot down." Josiah obviously did not find it amusing.

"When was the last time you saw Samuel Wilmont?"

"The music room last evening. My wife and I went to bed right after that business with Leonetta Fairweather and we got up and were downstairs by nine this morning." Josiah appeared calm and measured. "Keziah is quite upset, obviously, about Samuel."

"And you never saw Samuel Wilmont at any time after you left the music room last night?"

"No, can't say as we did."

Well, in for a penny….as the Inspector would say.

William tried to be direct yet delicate, not wishing to offend a man he genuinely liked. "So you and your wife can account for each other, neither of you saw anyone else last night…"

Josiah's thick eyebrows dipped into a deep "V". "No, sir! I understand your meaning, William, or shall I say detective? My wife and I are not familiar with upper-class mores, nor do we partake."

The two men shared an uncomfortable silence. William smiled sadly, suspecting that he'd just lost Josiah's good favour. He was not looking forward to the many more awkward conversations which were ahead of him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Julia's interviews were singularly unproductive.

None of the household staff saw Samuel after he bumped into Cook on the way out of the kitchen near dawn, generally confirming Grant King's version of events. That gave a window for time of death of roughly three and a half hours: 6:30 am to 10:00 am, which brought several questions to her mind.

Julia's own instincts argued against suicide but she had to acknowledge that something had been eating at him.

It is entirely possible that I may have to accept that Samuel did the unthinkable and ended his life.

Not yet ready to agree to that finding, and thinking that perhaps enough time had elapsed, Julia made her way back upstairs to Samuel's darkened bedroom, anxious to see if his body would yield any more clues to his demise.

Julia opened the curtains to let in the noon-time light. She turned around to view the bed, when she discovered that Samuel's body had instead presented her with another mystery:

eIt had disappeared!