No Mortal Reason (18 page)

He looked around for Diana and found her examining the photographs Mrs. Ellington had set aside.

“Grace knew me inside out,” Howd admitted. “A pity we didn’t have much time together. I waited a good long while for the right girl to come along.”

“How did you meet?”

“She came to work at the hotel one summer. He chuckled again. “She was the age of marriage and she was after a husband. She expected she’d get one of the two eligible men who worked in the hotel.”

“You and Myron?”

“Myron was a confirmed bachelor even then. No, the choice was between me and Elmer Castine.”

Ben toyed with mentioning the fight he’d heard about, but Howd was talking again.

“One time I took Grace to a dance in Liberty. People came from all over. There were two-seated buckboards and four-horse carriages and two-horse turnouts and surreys. There was even a tally-ho and six. Called it a ‘grand hop.’ Quite an event it was, too. Virginia reels, a ‘grand march,’ a ‘choice collation’ at intermission, and after that a social ‘sing’ accompanied by piano. It was after midnight before we got back here. Almost lost Grace that night.”

Ben’s attention sharpened. “How so?”

“Oh, no harm came to her. It was me. Up till then, I used to carry a bottle of apple wine about with me. Early that evening, I offered Grace some. That made her think I was a toper and she said she wouldn’t dance with me—or anything else—so long as I had that devil’s brew on my person. Well, I saw my mistake real fast and I threw the nearly full bottle away on the spot. Never indulged in spirits again.” He winked. “Well, not when Grace could see me, at any rate.”

Keeping his voice too low for anyone else to hear, Ben asked, “Speaking of drink, is Saugus still ‘indisposed?’“

“So Mrs. Saugus says.” Anger replaced the reminiscent gleam in Howd’s eyes. “Do you know how hard it is for me to be civil to her after what we talked about last night?”

“We’ll find out the truth,” Ben said. “Tomorrow we’ll be able to ask officials in Liberty about right of ways and the like.” This being the Sabbath, he had been unable to pursue the investigation of Saugus’s business dealings. Nor had it been suitable to ask questions at Elly Lyseth’s funeral about the drummer she had been flirting with ten years back.

“I’m of a mind to warn Myron.”

Howd’s brother had set himself apart from the rest of the family, pulling one of the balloon-back chairs close to a second table, the twin of the one being used for the board game. It was covered with slips of paper and what appeared to be clippings from newspapers.

“The railroad puts out a guide to hotels and boarding houses every year,” Howd said, seeing the direction of Ben’s gaze. “Myron has only a few more days to put together our advertisement. It’s not easy deciding what to include.” A hint of sarcasm came into his voice when he added, “How does one decide between saying ‘No Jews Taken’ and ‘Christian Only’ and ‘Guests taken to church free of charge’ when they all mean the same thing?”

 Diana, who had been wandering rather aimlessly about the parlor, chose this moment to fetch up at Myron’s side. When he glanced up and saw her, he gave her a speculative look.

“Perhaps you can make yourself useful while you’re here, Mrs. Northcote. Since your husband doesn’t seem inclined to endorse my spring water, what do you think of using this description?” He cleared his throat and read from one of the clippings: “The water has millions of silver globules which sparkle as though rejoicing at their liberation from the dark caverns of the gnomes.”

“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” Diana didn’t bother to hide her smile, but she pulled a second chair up to the table. “Let’s see what else we can come up with.”

“Your wife will be occupied for some time,” Howd said to Ben. “Care to take a walk? I’ll give you a quick introduction to the birds in the area.”

“I’m thinking of setting up a gypsy camp,” Myron was telling Diana as they left the room. “Though Indians might be better. Most resorts have one or the other. The gypsies tell fortunes. Injuns sell baskets.”

On their way outside, Howd stopped in the lobby. “You might want to know this is here,” he said, and opened the large drawer under the hotel register. The drawer contained nuts, several varieties of them. Scooping out two huge handfuls, Howd filled his pockets. “For the squirrels,” he explained.

 They crossed the veranda and the lawn, where Howd paused briefly to speak to the goat. “She’s our mascot,” he explained when they continued on. “She has the run of the place and pays us back by eating litter and keeping the grass trimmed. Of course, she also helps herself to anything left on window sills. Tressa lost a whole pie once.”

Howd led the way to the start of a narrow path Ben had not previously noticed. It wound through oaks, maples, poplars, beeches, and veteran pines. “Look there,” Howd said, pointing to a waxy-white flower among the pine needles that carpeted their path. “Pyrola. And that’s pipsissewa beside it. Can you smell it?”

Ben caught a trace of the fragrance and nodded.

“The open fields are better for bird watching at this time of year,” Howd said as they came out in a grove of hemlocks. “So much variety. Bobolinks and meadow larks. Red-wings, sparrows, tanagers, kinglets.”

“But you didn’t bring me out here to talk about birds, did you?”

“Not really. No.”

“Gypsy camps?”

Howd grinned. “Had my fortune told once. I was eighteen at the time. The gypsy said that two girls lived very near me. One, with big blue eyes, wouldn’t have me. The other, if I married her, would drag me through the dirt. I stayed away from Lottie Hosier after that. She worked here, too, and one time when I walked her back to her door—her room was right next to my parents’ room on the first floor—she kissed me on the lips.” He shook his head. “Back then, I thought that was pretty scandalous behavior.”

“And later?”

“I like the ladies, Northcote. And they don’t usually run away from me.”

“Did you suggest privacy to tell me something more about Elly Lyseth?”

“No. It’s Elmira we need to discuss. Oh, don’t look so shocked. Did you suppose no one would find out Diana’s her daughter? Tressa overheard the two of you talking that first night in the private dining room and told me, but I think I would have figured it out on my own. There’s a resemblance, you know.”

Privately, Ben thought Diana and her mother had little in common, either physically or in their outlook on life, but he didn’t intend to discuss his opinion of Elmira Grant Torrence, especially not with her brother. “Does Myron know?”

“No, and I won’t be telling him. You know how he feels.”

“Yes, so does Diana. That’s part of the reason she didn’t say anything to the rest of you.”

“How’s that husband of Elmira’s?” Howd asked. “I know he stuck around long enough to become Diana’s pa. I can see something of him in her, too.”

“He’s dead.”

“Figured he might be. You want me to tell his father or are you planning to visit Torrence yourself?”

So Diana’s paternal grandfather
was
still alive. “Would that be I. Torrence?” he asked, remembering the name he’d seen on the map.

“That’s right. Isaac. Lives in Liberty. I talked to him yesterday. Told him about Diana. He wants to meet her.”

Ben’s conscience pricked him. He should have mentioned what he’d suspected about the Torrences to Diana before this. And he hadn’t even considered that Isaac Torrence wouldn’t know his son was dead.

“Torrence was upset when my sister eloped with his son,” Howd said, “but he always liked Elmira. He’d have been glad if they’d come back. But he’s never heard a word from Will in all the years since they left, and that’s eaten at him. I think maybe he convinced himself that Will died in the war.”

It took Ben a moment to realize what he meant. The couple had eloped in 1855. Diana had been born in 1864. If the family had no idea where they’d gone, it was reasonable to assume that William Torrence had enlisted in the Union Army and died a hero. Wrong, but reasonable.

Again, Ben considered how much to say. Torrence had died, violently, only a short time ago. And he and Diana’s mother had been divorced for several years at the time. Diana would have to decide how much she wanted her new found relatives to know about the scandal.

“Does old Mr. Torrence have other children?” Ben asked.

“A daughter, Janette. She moved in with him after her husband died. She never had any kids of her own.”

So, Diana was the only grandchild on the Torrence side. That meant Ben didn’t really have much choice. He was going to have to arrange a meeting before they left Sullivan County.

“I’ll tell Diana,” he promised Howd, “but in my own time. With Myron still as adamant, I don’t want to take the chance he’ll find out.”

“Probably wise,” Howd conceded. “He was all set to throw her out of the hotel when he found out she was a reporter. Lord only knows how he’d react to learning she’s Elmira’s daughter.”

* * * *

Diana was about to change into her green silk gown for the evening meal when she heard a loud crash in the suite below. It was followed by a bellow in Myron Grant’s voice.

“You son of a bitch!” he shouted. “You tried to burn me out!”

By the time Diana reached her own suite’s parlor, Ben was on his way downstairs. She followed as quickly as she could, urged on by high-pitched feminine shrieks. She found Belle Saugus in the hallway, darting ineffectually about, clearly torn between rushing back inside the room and staying out of the way of the combatants.

“Stop them!” Belle wailed. “Make them stop!”

The thumps, grunts, and scuffling sounds Diana heard within the suite warned her there were fisticuffs in progress, but the sight that met her eyes when she looked through the door held her momentarily speechless. Howd sat on the floor, rubbing his jaw. Myron Grant had his hands wrapped around Norman Saugus’s throat and was squeezing so hard that the smaller man’s eyes bulged.

“Let him go, damn it!” Ben caught hold of Myron’s arm and tried to loosen his grip. “You’re going to kill him.”

“He deserves killing.” Myron spat, but he flung Saugus away from him. Saugus bounced against the wall and slid to the floor, gagging and clutching protectively at his neck.

Mrs. Saugus pushed past Diana into the room. Instead of going to her husband’s side she marched up to Myron and poked him in the chest with one extended finger. “You’re a damned fool, Myron Grant!”

He growled at her, making her retreat a step. “Don’t you think I know that? And he’s the one who made a fool of me.” Fists raised, he turned toward Saugus. “I know what you tried to do.”

Diana entered the parlor of the suite and closed the door behind her. She saw the sudden loss of color in Belle Saugus’s face and the wince that crossed her husband’s countenance, but she couldn’t tell for certain what either reaction signified. Even if Howd had told his brother everything they’d discussed the previous evening, Myron had no proof of wrongdoing that would hold up against Mr. and Mrs. Saugus in court.

A quick survey of the room showed her that the furnishings were almost identical with those in her own suite. A few pieces of bric-a-brac had been broken during the fight and a chair had been shoved out of place. Discarded clothing lay scattered about, but Diana suspected slovenly habits were to blame for that, not Myron’s enraged attack on his so-called backer.

In one corner sat a carton, the lid askew, that appeared to contain papers.

Ben knelt at Saugus’s side to examine his injuries. “You’ll have a black eye but nothing’s broken,” he said as he stood and offered the other man a hand. “Mrs. Ellington can no doubt provide ice for the swelling. And I’d suggest honey and lemon in tea for your throat.”

“Whiskey,” Saugus croaked, reminding Diana of her theory that he’d spent the previous two days drinking. It was hard to say, now that he’d been beaten up, but she didn’t think there were any outward signs of a hangover. His eyes were not bloodshot. She smelled none of the unpleasant odors usually associated with alcoholic excess.

Had he been ill? Or just hiding? And why would he hide? Myron obviously hadn’t known a thing about the arson until Howd told him. She joined the latter, who was still nursing his jaw, while Mrs. Saugus poured whiskeys all around.

“What on earth possessed you to tell him?” she hissed.

“Stupidity?” Howd shook his head. “Believe me when I say it just slipped out. I was avoiding another topic.” He hesitated, as if trying to decide whether to explain himself or not. “That doesn’t matter now. Point is, Myron started going on and on about being worried about me, because of Elly’s murder, and I said he was the one I worried about, and one thing led to another and I told him he was a damned fool to trust a man who’d tried to burn him out once and would probably do it again. Then I had to explain what I meant. And the next thing I knew, he was roaring like a bull and charging up here to beat Saugus to a pulp.”

“I’ll be damned if I’ll go out to the ice house for ice for his eye,” Myron muttered. “We need that ice for the season. Cost a fortune to harvest it from local ponds last winter. I paid—”

“Myron!” Howd snapped. “Enough.”

Saugus made his way to the sofa. “This is all a misunderstanding,” he croaked. “I never set any fire.”

“Let’s be accurate.” Ben stood near the fireplace. “You’ve figured out that we can’t prove you did. But we
can
prove you collected insurance after the west wing of this hotel burned. And we can find out if you have an insurance policy on the hotel right now.”

While everyone’s attention was fixed on Ben, Diana sidled over to investigate the box she’d noticed. It was indeed filled with papers. They were blank forms of some sort, but they were witnessed and sealed. Aware that proper authorities did not notarize unsigned documents, she slipped one into the pocket of her skirt before she made her way to Ben’s side.

“Let’s stop this now,” he was saying. “You were lucky last time, Saugus. No one died in the fire. This time you might miscalculate. Do you want murder on your conscience?”

Saugus glared at him. “I’m not admitting anything, but let’s say you’re right. What’s so wrong about wanting to recoup my losses?” He smirked at Myron, who was standing with Howd near the door. “You’d have done it yourself if you’d been smart enough to think of it.”