Cluttered Attic Secrets (9 page)

“Who is he?” Tina asked. “And how do you know about him?”

“My parents were friends with David and Catherine Young, Josh’s parents. Like most youngsters, I often stood at the top of the stairs so I could hear what the adults were talking about.” Uncle Bob paused to pat Princess on her head.

Tina shifted around in her chair.

Uncle Bob continued to pet Princess. “One night, late, there was loud knocking at the front door. Woke me up, so after my parents ran downstairs, I went into the hallway to listen to what was going on. It was David, and he was in a state. Crying. Barely able to talk. Catherine had had a baby a couple of years before, and something was wrong with him. He didn’t walk, didn’t talk. The doctor did some tests and told the parents he was retarded, a word I know is rarely used anymore, but it was common back then.  I didn’t understand what that meant, exactly, and asked my mother later. She realized I’d overheard everything and swore me to secrecy. The child looked perfectly normal, a beautiful boy. They’d named him Joshua.”

“Oh, my,” Tina said.

Uncle Bob closed his eyes, then opened them and started at the wall. “One day, he was gone. Everyone thought he was dead. His parents said he died on a trip they took out of state and was buried there, quietly. Of course, everyone believed them. And when they had another son, Brandon and Leslie’s father, they named him Joshua. He must have been alive all these years. What had they done with him?”

Tina and Hank exchanged glances. “Hid him away in a secret room?” Tina suggested.

“Seems more and more likely there is one,” Hank said. “You think Margaret and Joshua knew about their brother?”

“I don’t know.” Uncle Bob continued to pet Princess. “There was such a stigma then. They were born several years after the first Joshua. I’m trying to remember when he supposedly died out of state. Couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. Doing the math, I think when they had Margaret, they may have decided they needed to hide Joshua away to protect her, and I suppose, because they were ashamed. Common back then.”

“I can imagine their fear when Margaret was born,” Laura said. “Would she be okay? Fortunately, she was, and then they had the second Joshua.”

Hank shook his head. “I don’t think it would be possible to hide him away like that for years and years. He’d need a caretaker. If they hired someone, that person would probably talk, gossip, about him. They’d need to get food to him, secretly. Where did he relieve himself? How was he kept quiet?”

“Good questions,” Uncle Bob took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “Cold. Maybe, if there even is a secret room, they didn’t use it for him. Put him away in an institution somewhere.”

Laura got up and took Uncle Bob’s mug to the microwave, nuked it, gave it back to him, and sat down again.

“Thanks.” He twisted the mug in his hand. “There was no support for this sort of thing in those days. Parents were on their own. Actually, it was recommended that people like Joshua be ‘put away,’ as they called it.”

“The big question now,” Hank said, “is why was he murdered?”

“I wonder if we’ll ever know,” Tina said.

“I think we have a chance to find out.” Hank finished the last fried clam on his plate. “And I’m more convinced than ever that there’s a secret room in that house.”

“How can we find it without spending a lot of time there?”

“Call an architect. An old architect.” Hank looked at Uncle Bob. “You know of anyone?”

“You’re asking me because I’m so old and decrepit, right?”

Everyone laughed, and some of the tension eased.

“Sorry,” Hank said. “You just seemed the most logical person to ask.”

Uncle Bob nodded. “Let me think. Maybe some of the younger architects had grandfathers who built houses in Newport around the time the Young house was constructed.” He stood up. “Tell you what. Let’s go look on Tina’s computer. I’m told you can find anything on one of those things. We’ll look up architects here on the island, and I’ll see if any names ring a bell.”

Everyone took their plates to the counter by the sink, then they went to the home office. Within a few minutes, Tina, sitting at her computer, had a list of local architects. She found about half a dozen and printed out a page for Uncle Bob to look at as he sat in his own office desk chair. Laura sat at hers, and Hank stood, resting his hip against Tina’s desk.

“I only recognize two names.” Uncle Bob circled them and handed the sheet back to Tina.

“I don’t suppose we can contact them today since it’s Sunday.” Tina looked at the names, but they were not familiar to her.

“We could try.” Hank pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the first number. “Voice mail.” He ended the call.

He poked in the second number. Everyone could hear the rings. On the third one, someone said, “Nathaniel Hall, Hall Architects.”

“Mr. Hall.” Hank smiled. “My name is Hank Silver, and I have what you might consider an interesting problem. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Just catching up on paperwork, Mr. Silver. I’d be glad for the diversion. What can I do for you?”

Hank increased the volume on his cell so everyone could hear the architect. “A friend of mine inherited an old Newport Victorian house. Another friend tells me you might be related to an earlier island architect.”

“You appear to have a lot of friends, Mr. Silver. My father is Winston Hall, and his father started the firm.”

“Your father’s still alive?”

“Oh, yes. He even does some consulting for me. He’s a young seventy-nine. My grandfather is also alive. Just turned a hundred last month.”

“That’s amazing. So, your father may also be able to help us.”

“Even, possibly, my grandfather. If you tell me what you need, I can better judge.”

“All right. My friend has been living in the house for just over two months now. Nothing out of the ordinary happened until two night ago when she decided to start cleaning out the attic. She heard noises and saw something ghostly in the corner, and of course she left the attic and called her best friend.”

“Also a friend of yours, I assume?”

Hank laughed. “A very good friend.”

“I see. Please continue. Perhaps, to avoid confusion, you might start using all these friends’ names.”

“Good idea. Leslie Young is the new owner of the house.”

“Josh Young’s daughter?”

“You know the Youngs?”

“Yes. And I know the house.”

Hank quirked an eyebrow and smiled at Tina. “How so?”

“My father renovated the kitchen when Margaret Young moved in. It was one of the first projects I helped him with.”

Tina held her breath.

“Possibly you have blueprints of the house, then?”

“I doubt it. But I can check. Why do you want the blueprints?”

“We’re thinking, my friends and I, that there could be a secret room in the house.”

“Because of the noises. Very possible.”

Hank stood still for a moment. “You think so?” He looked around the Shaw’s office, his eyes lingering on the bookcases.

Tina told herself to breathe because she was holding it in again. She was sure there was no hidden room in this house because she’d seen the blueprints. But could the blueprints leave out hidden spaces? She bet herself that Hank was wondering about his parents’ house, as well.

“I think that’s a bigger possibility than ghosts, Mr. Silver.”

“That’s why we called you first.”

“Before you called one of those paranormal investigation teams that have popped up lately?”

“Yes.”

“You sound like a sensible man, Mr. Silver. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll get the file on the work we did and check to see if we have blueprints. Then I’ll call you back.”

Hank looked a bit startled, but he recovered quickly. “That would be great, Mr. Hall. I look forward to hearing from you.”

“Right.”

Nathaniel Hall hung up.

Everyone remained silent for a minute or two.

Tina looked at Uncle Bob. “You know any of the Halls?”

He shook his head. “Not personally. We ran in different circles, as Mr. Hall might say.”

Tina laughed. “How much could you hear of what he said? He sounded a bit stiff.”

“Didn’t hear a lot, but got the gist from reading Hank’s lips.”

“He is, though, apparently accommodating,” Hank said. “That’s all we need.”

“True, true.” Uncle Bob nodded.

“What now?” asked Tina.

Hank stepped away from Tina’s desk. “I’d like to see the blueprints of your house, if they’re easily available.”

Laura looked startled, but she got up and walked over to a cabinet under one of the bookcases. “Why?”

“A couple of reasons.” He took the blueprints from Laura and looked around for a place to spread them out. “One, so I can be familiar with blueprints if Mr. Hall finds the ones for Leslie’s house. Two, just out of curiosity. Have to wonder how many old houses here in town have secret rooms or spaces.”

“Makes sense.” Uncle Bob stood up and cleared some of the items off his writing desk and put them in the drawer. “Here.”

“Perfect.” Hank unrolled the blueprints onto the desk. When he let go, they immediately rolled back up. Everyone laughed.

Laura handed him two glass paperweights from her desk.

Tina had a heavy metal, magnetic globe with paperclips sticking out all over it. She gave it to Hank.

Uncle Bob picked up the golden retriever puppy doorstop Tina had given him for Christmas one year and placed it on the fourth corner.

“Thanks, everyone.” Hank bent over the blueprint. The others were able to join him around the long, narrow desk. He traced his finger from the front foyer to each room on the first floor. “No indication of a hidden room. I don’t know how they’d show one, though. Leave an area unmarked? Have an obvious double wall?” He moved the paperweights with Uncle Bob’s help and flipped to the second page.

They all looked carefully through the rest of the blueprints and didn’t find anything that indicated a secret room. The hidden closets with the tunnels between them in the attic that they all already knew about were drawn in, but nothing else.

Hank pointed to one of the tunnels. “Since the blueprint shows these, I think it would also show any other secret spaces.”

“I agree,” Uncle Bob said. “Now what are you going to do?”

Tina noticed he looked tired. “You take a nap. I’m getting cabin fever from being inside for so long. Hank, you want to go talk to some of Leslie’s neighbors?”

Hank glanced at his watch. “Sure. Be good to stretch the legs.” He looked at Tina more closely. “You look exhausted yourself. Maybe we should all take a rest.”

“I’m too keyed up. We’ll make it an early night. Let’s go talk to people, then have a quick dinner somewhere.”

Hank smiled. “That sounds good.”

“Well, I’m going to toddle off for a snooze. You kiddies have fun.” Uncle Bob and Princess left the office.

Laura glanced at Tina, then at Hank. Tina realized her mother knew something was wrong between them, but she didn’t ask. Hank rolled up the blueprints and handed them to Laura. As she put them away, Hank and Tina said good-bye and went out to his car. The early spring sunshine brightened Tina’s outlook. She looked down the Victorian-lined street. How many of them held both secrets and secret rooms? Shivering, she thought it might be nice to spend some time in Hank’s ranch house, with its ultra-modern furnishings and lingering scent of new paint. Surely it didn’t have a secret room. She put that thought away. Being with him in his house was not happening until he opened up more.

Hank unlocked the Jaguar and held the door for Tina. She sank into the leather seat and relaxed all her muscles while taking a couple of deep breaths. She hadn’t realized how tired she was.

Hank drove to Leslie’s and parked out front. “Let’s talk to the neighbors who called the police first.”

“Sounds good to me.” Tina climbed out of the car without his help, and they walked up to the front door. Tina noticed the house needed new paint, but it looked well-kept otherwise.

While they waited for an answer, she asked, “Did Lisbeth tell you anything about these people?”

“Only that they didn’t admit to knowing anything about the whole matter.”

The door was opened by a woman around their age wearing jeans and a long-sleeved purple t-shirt. She frowned and didn’t say anything. Her dark brown, medium-length hair was held away from her face with a colorful scarf that obscured both jawbone and neck. Her feet were bare.

Hank introduced himself and Tina. “Our friend, Leslie Young, owns the house next door. She’s been hearing some strange noises in the house in the last two days, and now with the man murdered, we’re trying to help her figure out what’s going on. We’re wondering if you and your husband could answer a few questions.”

She cocked her head, then turned around and yelled, “Peter!”

They all stood silently waiting for Peter to appear. Tina thought he’d been sleeping, and wrinkled her nose when he got closer. He smelled as if he hadn’t taken a bath in a while. His longish medium brown hair was tousled, his jeans grungy, and one sleeve of his white t-shirt ripped. She could barely make out the faded image.
Was that really a picture of My Little Pony?

“What do you want?” Bare feet spread wide apart, he glared at Hank, ignoring Tina after one brief glance.

Hank explained again.

The man shook his head. “We don’t know anything, so we don’t have anything to say to you.” He closed the door, and they could hear the woman protesting, then the man’s voice again. “Shut up.”

Tina looked at Hank, astonished.

“That didn’t go well,” he admitted. “Let’s try the neighbors on the other side.”

“I’ve never had that happen to me before. I’m a bit stunned.”

Hank grinned. “You never sold anything door to door?”

“Sure. Girl Scout cookies. You think he slams the door on little Girl Scouts?”

“Oh, I remember you in your uniform. Cute. Still cute”

She slapped his arm lightly. He knew she hated being called cute, so he did it to tease her. “You weren’t so bad in your little Boy Scout shorts, either. Adorable. You always looked so serious.”

“I’m a serious person. And I was never adorable. Ask Mitzi.”

“Ha, your mother thinks the sun rises and sets with you.”

Hank shook his head as they walked up the walk to the other neighbor’s house. He rang the bell, and they waited.

This time a man opened the door. He was dressed in a blue suit and had on shoes. Every salt-and-pepper hair was in place, and he smelled of expensive cologne. Tina took a deep, appreciative breath.

“What can I do for you?” the man asked.

Hank explained.

The man looked at Tina. “You’re a friend of Leslie’s?”

“Yes. Since birth.”

“Well, come on in.”

As they entered, he said, “I’m Ted O’Brien. I’ve know the Youngs since we moved in over thirty-five years ago.”

They entered a beautifully furnished living room. A tall woman stood up to great them.

“Mindy, this is Tina Shaw and Hank Silver. My wife.”

Everyone shook hands, and Mindy indicated they should sit down. “Can I get you something to drink? A snack, perhaps?”

“No, thanks,” Tina said, and Hank shook his head.

Mindy sat down. “Shaw? I know a Laura Shaw from the golf club. Friendly acquaintances. You’re related?”

“She’s my mother.” Tina explained why they were there, and watched the O’Brien’s faces turn sober.

“A terrible situation,” Mindy said. “I don’t know how we can help you.”

“Mainly,” Hank said, “we wondering if you’ve seen any strangers around, anyone hanging about, especially next door.”

“It’s hard to say,” Ted said. “Since Leslie moved in, we’ve of course noticed a few people parked and walking around who are strangers to us, but we thought they were probably friends of hers.”

“The only odd thing I’ve noticed,” Mindy said, “was the Hendricks girl walking by quite often. She lives one block over. About ten years old, I think. She’s always alone, and I don’t know why she started coming over to this street so much.”

“Do you know her first name?” Tina asked.

“Let me think. Sophie? She’s skittish. Doesn’t like to talk to us when we see her.” Mindy glanced at her husband as if for confirmation.

He nodded. “When we first saw her, she was friendly enough. But later on, not as much.”

“What do you know about the Youngs?” Hank asked.

“We got to know Margaret fairly well.” Mindy gave a little chuckle. “She was friendly.”

“We’ve found out some interesting information about their family tree while helping Leslie clean out her attic. I’m wondering how much Margaret talked about that sort of thing.”

Mindy shook her head. “Not a lot. She gave some hints about a skeleton in the closet, as she put it, but never went into detail.”

“Did she ever mention the attic?”

Mindy looked surprised, then thoughtful. “Only once that I can remember. Said she never went up there. She told me it was crowded with junk and too overwhelming to deal with. That kind of surprised me because she seemed so ‘together’ as they say. Everything looked in order when I visited. How bad is it, really?”

Tina smiled. “It’s pretty full. Generations of stuff. We found things from the eighteen hundreds.”

Mindy’s eyes widened. “But that’s fascinating. I’m surprised Margaret didn’t go through all that and organize it.”

“So are we,” Tina admitted.

Ted frowned. “I’m not sure what all this has to do with the murder.”

Hank cleared his throat. “The police believe the man’s name is Joshua Young.”

The other couple didn’t react at first, then both said, “What?”

“Not Leslie’s father?” Ted asked.

“No. About his age, though,” Hank said. “I assume you know nothing about another Joshua Young.”

“No. How strange,” Mindy murmured. She looked at her husband.

He shook his head. “Had no idea.”

The doorbell rang. Ted got up to answer it, and no one said anything until he brought a pair of police officers into the living room. Mindy stood up.

Tina recognized the officers who had been outside when she and Leslie went to find out what had happened next door. They nodded at Hank but didn’t seem too pleased to see him.

After the officers introduced themselves to the O’Briens, Hank made excuses to leave. Ted accompanied them to the front door. “It was nice to meet you,” he said.

Tina and Hank answered back politely and stepped outside. Tina was surprised to find it was now dark and glanced at her watch. Almost six.
Where had the time gone?

When they were back in the car, Hank asked her where she wanted to go for dinner. “I’m not very hungry. How about D’Angelo’s?”

“That will be fine.” Hank started the car and checked that the heater was on high.

“It just dawned on me, wouldn’t the police have questioned the neighbors before now?”

“Yes, they did. But they didn’t know the identity of the victim then. Now they’ll go back and talk to everyone again.”

“They didn’t seem too pleased to see us there.”

“No.” Hank turned on to East Main Road. “They tolerate me, but they’re not sure of my position, so they’re leery. I’m guessing some think I’m an internal spy.” He laughed.

“Really?” Tina smiled. “That must make for some interesting conversations.”

“Yeah.” He frowned.

Tina noticed he was looking in his rearview mirror more than he usually did. “Someone following you?”

“Yes, and not trying to hide herself.”

“Oh. Michele Highsmith, I presume.”

“Good work, detective Shaw.” He jerked the wheel and pulled into the Barnes and Noble Bookstore parking lot in Middletown. He stopped the car in a slot and jumped out.

Tina watched him, wide-eyed, stand waiting for Michele to pull into the slot next to them and roll down her window.

With the bright light above, she could see Hank, hands on hips, glaring at Michele. He said something Tina couldn’t hear, then came back, climbed into the car and took off with a roar.

She’d rarely seen him so angry. She tried to think of the last time. High school? Yes, when she had said something silly and one of the other boys mocked her. She couldn’t even remember what she’d said now.

His anger disturbed her. She had to wonder what it would be like to be the one he was angry with.