A Rumor of Bones: A Lindsay Chamberlain Mystery (32 page)

"Sure." He picked up the black plastic sheet that
was used at night to cover the pit Lindsay had been
working on. Lindsay helped him anchor it down with
large rocks.

Both looked up to see an all-too-familiar sightthe sheriff-striding toward them. This time he
seemed to have a look of excitement on his face.

Lindsay glanced beyond the sheriff to the parking
lot. Three men and a woman were standing near the
sheriff's car. Lindsay recognized two of the men as
deputies. The other man and the woman were
strangers.

"I have a warrant," said the sheriff, "to search
Tylerwynd. It was not easy to get. I thought you might
like to come to the mansion as a consultant."

"A consultant?" Lindsay smiled. "Are you expecting to find bones?"

"No, but you never know."

Derrick put an arm around Lindsay's shoulders.
"She doesn't step into any spider's web without me"

The sheriff grinned. "I figured as much. We'll just
call you a consultant on this case, too"

"We need to clean up a little," Lindsay said.

"Make it real quick."

After Lindsay and Derrick took quick showers,
they changed into fresh jeans and shirts and joined the
sheriff in the parking lot.

"This is Paul Durant and his daughter Estelle. Mr.
Durant owns The Magic Emporium in Atlanta. I
called him after I talked to you this morning, and he
agreed to come down," the sheriff said.

Paul Durant looked to be in his late fifties. He was
tall and lean, with silver hair. He looked cool in his
cream-colored suit, and his mannerisms as he took
Lindsay's outstretched hand seemed vaguely French,
though he had a completely American accent.

"I'm glad to meet you, Lindsay and Derrick." His
blue eyes twinkled.

At first Estelle Durant looked to be in her late
twenties, but a closer look revealed that she was probably in her late thirties. She had dark hair, a dimpled
smile, and the same blue eyes as her father. "We've
never done anything like this," she said. "It sounds
exciting."

The Durants obviously knew little of the recent
history of the Tyler family. Lindsay and Derrick
smiled back at them as best they could.

"The Durants can ride with us," the sheriff said. "I
thought Derrick and you could follow in your Jeep"

"Sure," Lindsay said.

"Does this strike you as kind of strange?" Derrick
asked when they were alone.

"What do you mean?" asked Lindsay.

"I mean, the sheriff taking us over to the Tylers,"
he said. "Not that I have any love for the Tylers, but it
strikes me as a little cruel. After all, I did kill Patrick."

"I see what you mean. Remember the story the sheriff told us about when he and his friends were
caught by Isabel Tyler in her strawberry patch? He
made it sound funny at the time, but I wonder if there
was more to it. I've seen how the woman can terrorize
little kids-like the one in her house looking for a
bathroom on the Fourth of July."

"You think maybe the sheriff is getting even after
all these years?" Derrick asked.

"Perhaps not consciously. But maybe he is exorcising an old ghost," she replied.

"Maybe so. Or maybe he is helping us exorcise
ghosts"

"You may be right. Are you okay about Patrick?"
Lindsay asked.

Derrick didn't answer right away. He looked as if
he hadn't heard the question and simply stared at the
road ahead.

"It's not easy," he finally said. "I'm angry he made
me have to do it and live with it. But when I picture
the scene in my mind, I see you on the ground, shot,
bleeding, and trying to get away from him, and him
aiming that gun to shoot you again. Then I think of
what he wanted to do to you" Derrick looked over at
Lindsay sitting beside him. "I'll cope with it. It won't
ruin my life."

"We've never talked about it. I didn't know if I
should ask."

"Lindsay, you can always ask me anything."

"Well, I didn't know if you wanted to talk about it."

"When I think about it, I think of saving you, not
killing Patrick."

"Me, too"

When they reached the huge wrought iron gates of
Tylerwynd, a deputy was holding them open for Derrick's Jeep. He followed the sheriff's car through and
stopped to wait for the deputy to close the gate and
walk to the sheriff's car. They drove around the
curved drive and stopped in front of the house. They
all met on the sidewalk leading to the house.

Estelle Durant sidled up to Lindsay. "They told us
on the way over what happened to you. I'm glad to
see you're much better."

Lindsay looked into her sincere blue eyes and
smiled. "Yes, I'm much better. Thank you."

The sheriff walked up to the door, carrying what
looked like a thick briefcase, and knocked. The group
followed but hung back when they reached the porch.
It was several minutes before the doorbell was
answered by a young woman dressed in a black-andwhite maid's uniform. The sheriff showed her the
warrant and explained that they were coming inside.
The woman stared at the paper with a wrinkled brow,
then looked behind her, as if searching for someone to
tell her which authority to obey.

"I'll have to ask," she said timidly.

"I don't need permission," the sheriff said, not unkindly. "I have a search warrant"

The maid's eyes grew wide, as if she just understood the implications of a search warrant. She opened the door and stood aside.

"Please," she said. "Let me get Mrs. Tyler."

The sheriff nodded and entered the house. Lindsay,
Derrick, and the others followed and stood in the
foyer.

"This place is a museum," Estelle whispered.
"Look at the old furniture."

"What's this about?" The voice came so suddenly
and was so full of hostility that they all jumped
slightly.

"I have a warrant to search the premises. In particular, the possessions of Jacob Edgar Tyler." The sheriff handed her the search warrant.

Mrs. Tyler made no move to take it from his hand.
"I don't care what it says. You are not searching my
home"

"I'm afraid you are wrong, ma'am," the sheriff
said. "As I explained to the maid, I have all the permission I require. Now, will you show me to Jacob's
room? We will begin there"

"What is this about?" came a voice from the stairs.
They all looked up to see. Jacob standing halfway
down the stairs, his hands clutching the polished banister. He looked like an overgrown child coming down
to see what the adults were doing. "Winifred just told
me the strangest story."

"I'm glad you're here," said the sheriff. "You can
show us to your room. I am particularly interested in
seeing your magician's equipment."

Jacob looked nonplussed. "Well, I ... why? Mother?"

"Sheriff Duggan. Haven't we been through
enough, and why did you bring them here?" She
pointed a gnarled hand in the direction of Lindsay and
Derrick.

"They are here for their expertise," the sheriff
answered. "Now, the sooner we get on with this, the
quicker we will leave. Jacob, will you show us to your
room?"

Jacob looked at his mother, who nodded her head.
He turned and climbed the stairs to the second floor.
The sheriff, the deputies, the Durants, Derrick, and
Lindsay followed, leaving Isabel Tyler standing at the
foot of the stairs staring malevolently at their backs.

Jacob led them down a long, dark hallway that held
sepia photographs of dour Tyler ancestors. Their footfalls were muted by the long Persian carpet that had
grown bare in spots. The rooms off the hallway were
closed. A few doors had open transoms, and Lindsay
thought she could hear soft music from one. Suddenly, a door behind them burst open. They all turned
to see a madwoman in black advancing toward them.

"Rachel?" Lindsay whispered. No, Rachel rushed
out behind the woman and put an arm around her
shoulders. Ruth Tyler, thought Lindsay, mother of
Patrick.

"You killed my son," she said, glaring at Derrick
through red-rimmed eyes.

"I'm sorry," Derrick softly said. "I truly am. I wish
things could have ended differently."

She seemed not to hear him, but turned her sorrowful mad gaze to Lindsay. "Couldn't you have just
gone to dinner with him? He just wanted ... he just
..." She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

"It's all right," Rachel soothed, though Lindsay and
the others knew nothing would ever be all right for
her. "Come back to your room. I'll get Winifred to
bring you some hot milk."

Lindsay felt sad for her, sad for them all in this
dark mausoleum of a house with its darker secrets.
Derrick put his arm around her waist, and they turned
around to follow Jacob, who stood watching the whole scene with a pitiless expression on his fleshy,
round face. Lindsay felt someone take her hand. She
turned her head to see Estelle standing beside her
with a friendly smile spread across her face.

"I think we need to stick together in this creepy
place," she whispered.

Lindsay smiled back, blinking back the tears that
were threatening to spill out onto her cheeks. "I
agree. "

The first thing that anyone noticed when they
entered Jacob Tyler's bedroom were the posters and
photographs covering his walls. There were several
posters of Harry Houdini advertising a variety of his
famous escape tricks. A poster of Howard Thurston
and the floating lady hung over the head of the bed.
There was a large black-and-white photograph of P.T.
Selbit sawing a woman in half, and several posters of
Blackstone, Dante, and an autographed photograph of
David Copperfield. Lindsay did not see any photographs of Jacob himself. The rest of the bedroom consisted of a four-poster dark mahogany bed covered
with a white chenille bedspread, a matching
mahogany chest of drawers and nightstand, a bookshelf containing only books and catalogs about magic
and magicians' paraphernalia, a stuffed chair, and a
threadbare Oriental carpet-all rather bland compared to his wall decorations, but easy to search.

Jacob stood by at stiff attention as the sheriff and
the deputies put on rubber gloves, searched the drawers, the nightstand, the books, the backs of the
posters, and between the mattress and springs.
Jacob's closet held few clothes, all hung precisely
four inches apart. His shoes were lined up just as neatly. The single top shelf held two hats, a brown
fedora, and a wide-brimmed straw hat. The search
turned up nothing, but no one had expected to find
anything in his bedroom.

"Now," said the sheriff, "where is your magician's
equipment?"

"What do you want it for?" Jacob asked. Lindsay
noticed that he did not seem unduly nervous.

"Where is the equipment?"

"In the basement."

They followed Jacob down the main stairway and
through a door under the staircase, where he turned on
a light switch and took them down another flight of
stairs. The room at the bottom was for storage. Stacked
so that there was only a narrow passageway through
the room, a hundred years of memorabilia filled the
large basement room. As she passed, Lindsay noticed
old baby furniture, toys, broken tables and chairs, and
boxes filled with gilt-framed photographs, probably of
all the relatives and marriage partners that had fled
Tylerwynd. The room smelled like old dried roses.

Jacob led them through a door at the far end of the
room to where he kept his equipment. Here the walls
were decorated with pictures of him and his performances. Several cabinets having a vague Oriental look
with their red-and-black lacquered finish and numerous drawers stood against one wall. A long, polished
wooden box for sawing people in half sat in the
middle of the hardwood floor looking like a coffin.
Beside it stood a curtained wardrobe. Large metal
hoops stood against one wall, and several objects
Lindsay didn't recognize hung on hooks. Five trunks
covered with travel stickers sat side-by-side against another wall. It was a tidy room, but with so many
trunks and cabinets it looked like the search would
take a long time.

Lindsay and Derrick stood with the sheriff, and the
deputies stood near Jacob. Lindsay watched Jacob as
Sheriff Duggan handed the Durants each a pair of
rubber gloves. Jacob looked puzzled but did not seem
to recognize the Durants. Lindsay wondered why.
Surely someone as interested in magic as Jacob
would have frequented a magic shop as close as
Atlanta, but perhaps they were a mail order place.

They started with the wardrobe and a box in the
center of the room. They found nothing, but watching
them quickly find hidden places and doors was interesting. Next they went to the cabinets, and Lindsay
noticed that Jacob was becoming fidgety.

Paul and Estelle Durant opened the drawers and
searched with expert hands for hidden drawers or
panels. They found many, but all were empty in the
first cabinet. They went to the next, continuing the
same methodical search. Estelle slipped out a false
bottom to a drawer and whispered something to her
father. She reached in and came out with a stack of
magazines. Estelle carried them to the sheriff while
her father continued the search. Lindsay looked at
the top magazine. It contained child pornography. A
chill ran up Lindsay's spine, and she felt sick. Derrick grasped her hand and squeezed it.