McCann's Manor (15 page)

"Parlor games, John?” Kim objected.

"Well, yes, I suppose it would be, but it might yield some good information, mightn't it?"

Liz went to see the last investigator out of the house and returned to join her friends. “Before you go planning any grand festivities here, there's something you ought to know. Are you ready to hear some interesting news?"

"Sure, Liz, what is it?"

"Are you sure about this, Liz?” Kim asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. There is some new information that you may not have figured out yet either, Kim. John, what if I told you Leonard Tatum
was
murdered?"

"Oh, Liz, that has been batted around until no one believes it anymore,” John objected.

"I believe it. Missy
did
see it. I believe it was murder, though I still have no idea who did it,” she said, with stubborn conviction.

"Now I know you need to have that head seen about. You're losing touch,” John said.

"Just wait a minute and hear me out, John.” Liz touched her head; the bump was sensitive, but not any larger. “You remember I told you I dreamed about Missy before I ever met you or heard about McCann's manor?"

"Yes?"

"In the dream I
was
Missy. I was running for my life because of something I had learned. I was shoved out that window; I didn't jump."

"What? That is preposterous!” John said.

"Why? You'd rather believe she
was
crazy and she killed herself?” Kim asked.

Silence seeped into the room until it surrounded them.

"Okay, hear me out.” Liz touched John's hand and continued, “You yourself said Missy knew where several of the secret passages were. Did she ever mention the one to the library?"

"No. Wait; there is one to the library?” He sat down on the sofa hard. “You mean she was in a secret passage by the library that night?"

"She saw it, John, but she couldn't prove it and since no one believed her, what could she do?"

"My God! What are you saying, Liz?” John exclaimed.

"I'm still a bit sketchy on some of the details, but I
do
know she witnessed her father's death and the impressions I have of the event bear out the story that someone
else
shot him,” Liz said. “Missy thought he was being blackmailed because of Betty Tatum's alleged indiscretions. But that makes no sense to me. If Betty had been having an affair, why would anyone blackmail Leonard?"

"I don't know.” John said.

"Right! According to Missy, someone, whom she called Ptarmigan because she couldn't remember his real name, was blackmailing Leonard for some reason. But Leonard got fed up with it and told Ptarmigan it was over; he wasn't going to give the man anything else. Whatever the reason was, it came to a head at the same time when the affair thing was a hot subject and Missy
assumed
it was about Betty,” Liz said.

"But I still don't understand what makes you so certain about the secret passage,” John mused.

"Okay, I will get to that, but right now stay with me, all right?"

John looked at Kim, shrugged. “All right."

"Missy
had
seen a murder and no one would believe her, so she didn't bother to tell them about her secret passage—it was special to her because she didn't tell anyone about it, not even you. She kept insisting she had seen a
murder
and the more she insisted, the more everyone thought she had lost touch with reality, which led to her being taken to New York to the institution. Why she had to be taken that far away, I can only guess, though I suspect that was part of the conspiracy."

"What conspiracy?” he asked.

"Okay,” Liz conceded, “bad choice of words, I'll admit.
She
believed there was some kind of conspiracy and that
they
wanted her dead because she knew their secret. She felt Dr. Winter ordered her death."

"Hiram Winter? You think
he
was implicated in this?” John could not keep the incredulity from his voice.

"What I
think
is that there may have been something going on that
involved
him; while Hiram Winter may have been an innocent pawn, his brother may not have been, because Missy was certain her death order came from him and that he had sent the
monster
to finish her off after she discovered their secret,” Liz confided.

John sighed, “The monster again—this is all very interesting, Liz, but there still isn't any proof of any of it."

"There is proof of at least one thing,” Liz argued.

"What's that?” Kim asked.

"I have proof Missy
saw
her father's death, whatever happened."

"What?” John jumped up off the sofa, paced the floor. “How can you
prove
that?"

"I found the secret passage to the library."

"You did not!” he yelled.

She whirled to leave the room. “
Didn't I?
Come let me show you,” she snapped.

Kim and John followed hot on her heels as she sped through the entry hall to the back hallway, pushed the button at the center of the coat of arms. But this time, the wall didn't swing open. She pushed again. Nothing.

She looked first at John and then at Kim, who were both staring at her with concern. “No, this isn't possible. It worked this morning."

Kim and John looked at one another, then at Liz, who was confounded. “Maybe the switch is a different place,” Kim said after a pause, trying to sound reassuring.

"No, it is
this
one. I know, because I was trying to find the lever that would open the room across the hall. I wound up polishing all these relics while I was examining them to find a way into the other room,” Liz said.

"The
other
room?” Kim asked.

Liz stared at her. “Yes, the
other
room! Haven't you ever noticed this room either, the one
under
the master bedroom? Didn't you ever wonder where the door to
that
room is?"

"Hmm,” Kim said, “now that you mention it, I never thought about it before. There must be a room there, though, right?"

"There has to be
something
—the walls are all in place outside, but there is no obvious entrance to it, nor any windows. I figured there must be a hidden door somewhere."

Kim nodded, “Sounds logical."

Liz thought for a second before she spoke. “Look, there
is
a secret passage behind this wall and it leads to the library. I must have jammed the button or something while I was fooling around with all the other things looking for the entrance across the hall."

John looked doubtful, but said nothing.

"Don't look at me that way! I'm not out of my gourd by a long shot yet. I think I can activate it from the library side. There is a lever on the back side of the shelf. If you can get
from
this hall to the library, there must be a way to get from the library
to
this hall, right?"

John took a deep breath, stuffed his hands in his pockets. Kim tried not to look too concerned.

"Don't everyone agree with me at once; just come with me. Don't give me up for crazy yet,” she said as she led the way to the library, moved a few books off the shelf and felt behind the bookshelf. She found the lever, held her breath as she pushed it and heard the click. The shelf swung out into the room. Then she touched the wall, felt the same spring-type apparatus she had felt from the other side, pushed on the wall to open it. She looked at Kim and John, who were watching her, wide-eyed.

"Well,” she said at last. “You don't have to apologize for doubting me, but you
do
have to go get the flashlight out of the parlor so you can see what I wanted to show you."

John's lips spread in a slow smile as he leaned toward her, said, “I'm sorry. I thought—well, I was afraid maybe that lump on your head was more serious than you believed."

"Yeah, I know,” she agreed, returning his smile. “Would you go get the flashlight?"

"Of course. Be right back,” he said.

"I have a lot of questions,” Kim said when John left the room.

"So do I! John was in love with Missy. This isn't going to be easy for him, you know."

"In love with her? Are you serious?"

Liz nodded as John came back into the room. “Okay, here is the flashlight. We are going to have to get all these secret places wired, you know! It gets old always having to go find the flashlight before you can see anything."

Liz smiled, took the flashlight and led the way into the room. “Okay, this is the way it went: Missy had only to open this wall a crack to see and hear what was going on in the library. She remembers standing here, just so, and watching as Leonard and the other man argued. Leonard had taken his gun out of the drawer as a deterrent to any aggressive behavior on the part of the other man. But when Leonard told him he wasn't giving him anything else, Ptarmigan snatched the gun, shoved it in his face and shot him.

"Then he wiped the gun off, put it in Leonard's hand, took some papers off the desk and left. Missy was in shock. She had seen the whole thing, even her father's face being blown away. She opened the wall the rest of the way, pushed the lever to release the shelf, and went to her father. She was clinging to the hope maybe he might still be alive—or that it was like in the movies and he was all right and just pretending to be dead. She put her hands on his face, but he was gone.

"Reality began to sink in and she realized she needed to go up and wake her mother. She went back into the secret room and put everything back in place, which meant touching the surfaces—on the back of the bookshelf and on the wall, here.” she said, shining the flashlight onto the places where Missy's hand prints were still undisturbed.

"The room closes when you go back out,” Liz continued, “or at least it did for me this morning.” She went on with the tale. “She went up and woke Betty, but no one would believe her story. She omitted telling them about the secret room and it may have been since they didn't believe her, she decided to
keep
this room a secret. I suspect she never realized she had left her hand prints here and that they would have proven she had been watching whatever had happened to her dad,” Liz concluded.

"It still isn't proof he didn't kill himself.” John said.

"No, it isn't,” Liz agreed. “But I know there
is
proof somewhere—I just don't know where, yet. We would have to find out who Ptarmigan is and what his motivation was."

"Are you sure this is blood?” Kim asked.

"Put your hand in the print and see what
you
think,” Liz answered.

Kim shoved her hands down by her sides, rubbed them against her jeans, a look of repulsion on her face. “No, thanks. I think I will take your word for it."

"How's
your
psychometry, John?” Liz asked.

John thought about the question a minute, “Not good enough to rely on it,” he admitted.

"Well, we could scrape some of it off and take it to be analyzed, but I think we should wait until we have more to go on. Our friend, Sheriff Humphrey won't want to know about this until we can make a nice, neat case of it so he will look good."

John chuckled. “That old geezer is never going to like coming out here. He doesn't believe in paranormal phenomena."

Liz smiled, said, “We may have to court him a bit. He'll believe before
this
is all over."

"You're so evil!” Kim teased.

"Me?” Liz asked as she assumed an innocent look.

"Yes, you. Why do you want to make him suffer?” Kim asked.

"He called me a Madame Blavatsky wanna-be!"

John's eyes lit up. “When did he say that?” he asked.

"At his office, right after you called to report the body,” she replied.

He frowned, asked, “But how did you
know
?"

"Oh, it is a little trick I know—I will teach it to you sometime, if you like,” she offered.

"Remind me to be careful what I say about you when you aren't around,” he said.

Liz smiled, “Maybe I will just teach you how to protect your mind from psychic probes."

"Psychic—probes; interesting. Well, do you think you can get us through here to the hall?” he asked.

"Probably, but it might take a while to figure it out. You want to wait?"

"I could just look at all these manuscripts and books and things,” he answered.

Liz nodded. “I know. There is a real treasure trove here, I'm sure of it—if I could read the titles."

"You have to be right—these are ancient, older than anything in the library, to be sure. Makes you wonder about McCann, doesn't it?"

"Wonder what?” Kim asked.

"Well, everything McCann had in his library and all these works are about paranormal subjects. Here, look at these pictures—even if you can't read the words, you can tell from the diagrams, this is about the occult. What kind of man in the late seventeen hundreds would have only occult writings? Who was he and why was he hiding out here?"

"Hmm,” Kim said, “good point. You think he was a warlock or something?"

"He was
something
, for sure. And don't you think it strange that most of the Tatum's library that wasn't about cinematography was also about the occult? I'll wager much of your own library contains similar writings,” John said.

"Bingo,” Liz inserted. “What do you think that means? We have talked about that a little ourselves."

"There is something about this place that attracts—” John began.

"Weirdos?” Liz added.

"Well, I wouldn't call us weirdos, but yes, in a manner of speaking. Now, did that begin with McCann, or is it older than that? Did the site draw
him
here, for example, and if so, what is the deal?” he mused.

Liz at last touched on the right spot and the wall swung open. She put the shelf into place and closed the library wall, gestured for her companions to exit. Once they were outside the wall closed behind them. Just for good measure, she pushed the button once again and the entry swung open. She went inside, came back out and the entry closed again. John and Kim watched her without comment.

"Just checking,” she assured them. “I hate trying to share a secret passage with someone and having it not open for me. Makes me feel like such a fool."