Palindrome (30 page)

"Good God!" Germaine exploded, "he must have been hallucinating. He didn't have any real money, just the island. I mean, there was some money a few generations back, but I thought it had been frittered away."

"Records of these funds and a financial statement are to be found in the safe in my study at Dungeness."

Germaine was on her feet, rummaging in the safe. "He wasn't crazy," she said breathlessly. "Here's a brokerage statement dated last month, with a balance of more than twenty million dollars! Where did it come from?"

"I suppose he must have invested wisely," Liz said. "It would be interesting to know if he got out of the market before the 'twenty-nine crash. Now sit down, Germaine, and let me finish."

I appoint as trustees Germaine Drummond, Hamish Drummond, Keir Drummond, Elizabeth Barwick and a representative of the Morgan Guaranty Trust Company of New York, to be chosen by the bank. I appointJames Moses a trustee to be effective on his twenty-fifth birthday. The trustees are directed to meet not less than four times a year to discuss the management of the estate and those trustees who are not employed by the bank are to be paid salaries of fifty thousand dollars per annum each from the Trust. When a trustee becomes deceased, the trustees will elect a replacement. I instruct my named heirs to remove from the house called Dungeness all furniture, silverware, books, works of art, and any other effects which might be useful to them or any other person. I wish them to divide these possessions among themselves and their friends.

Should they be unable to agree on the ownership of any object, that object shall become the property of the Trust and shall be sold at auction for the benefit of the Trust. It is my view that Dungeness is an anachronism, and that it should die with me. No member of my family wishes to live in it, and I have no wish for strangers to occupy it. It is for this reason that I have allowed the house to deteriorate for the past twenty years. It is my wish, and I so instruct my heirs, that when all worthwhile furnishings and objects have been removed, the house be set afire on a windless day, and, when the structure has been consumed, the land be cleared and planted in trees, flowers, and other plants indgenous to Cumberland Island. It is my wish that, apart from an appropriate and modest tombstone this new planting will be my only memorial. Finally, I wish to say to my heirs and my friends and to anyone who knew me that I have lived, for the most part, a joyful and rewarding life comforted by the generosity of my forefathers and the love of my family and friends, and the respect and affection of the people who toiled in my service and that of Cumberland Island. I leave this life a happy and contented man, and I wish that same happiness and contentment to those I love."

"That's all," Liz said, tears rolling down her face. Then she looked and saw that tears were on the faces of Germaine and James, as well. She wondered where Hamish was, and why he had left.

CHAPTER 46

The three of them, Liz, Germaine, and James, sat silently in Angus Drummond's study, drained. Nobody seemed to know what to do next. "I suppose we ought to think about a time for the funeral," Germaine said finally. When no one said anything, she went on. "Today's Thursday.

We'll want the announcement in tomorrow's papers, and we'll need to allow some time for people to travel—Hannah and Aldred will come, I'm sure, and there'll be others from Atlanta and Jacksonville. I think Monday morning should be good. We'll have a special run of the Aldred Drummond Monday morning, and I'll give everybody lunch at the inn after the service. What do you think?"

"That sounds sensible," Liz said.

"It's fine with me," James said. "I'll just miss school that day."

"Well"—Germaine sighed—"there doesn't seem to be anything else to do here. I'll go back to the inn and phone the papers. I'm fully booked this weekend, too, and I've got some things to do around the place."

They rose to go, and, as they did, the doorbell rang. They went together to answer it and found Dr. Blaylock standing on the front porch. The sheriff's helicopter was just landing on the front lawn.

"I've just heard about your grandfather, from Hamish," Blaylock said, and he looked upset. "Please accept my sympathy, Germaine; he was a wonderful man and my friend for a long time."

"Thank you, Dr. Blaylock," she said. "What's the sheriff doing back, I wonder?"

"I'm afraid I called him, as I said I would yesterday. It was before I ran into Hamish and learned about Angus's death. I'm sorry this is such a bad time, but I really must speak to you and the sheriff now, Germaine."

"All right," she replied. "And you, too, Miss Barwick," the professor said. "We're going to need your advice, as well as the family's."

"If this is a family matter, then James should be there, too," Germaine said. "He's my grandfather's son, and everybody had better start getting used to the idea."

"All right," Dr. Blaylock said. The sheriff had alit from his helicopter and was striding toward the house. They all stood in the disused dentist's office, and Dr. Blaylock had switched on the light box. He took an envelope from his pocket and arranged some radiograph films on the box; then he produced a set of Polaroid photographs. "I've been through all the dental records and X rays; I began by eliminating the women and children and older men. There weren't that many more records to search." He paused. "I've found films that match the teeth of the skeleton we found in the Light-Horse Harry Lee grave."

"Who was he?" Germaine said. "If he had his teeth worked on here, I must have known him."

"He didn't have his teeth worked on, except on one occasion," Blaylock said. The professor was starting to look uncomfortable.

"So," the sheriff said.

"I've got a very good match, here," Blaylock said, holding up the Polaroids next to the film on the light box. "Looks the same to me," the sheriff said. "What's his name?"

"I don't know that, yet," Blaylock said.

"Wasn't his name on the dental records?" the sheriff asked.

"I'm afraid there were two names on these records," said Blaylock. "There was no indication which X rays belonged to which person." He held up a file folder.

"The Drummond twins," the sheriff read aloud. There was absolute silence in the room while everyone absorbed this news.

"I'm missing your point, Dr. Blaylock," Germaine said finally. "My point is, the skeleton in the Light-Horse Harry Lee grave is one of the Drummond twins, either Hamish or Keir."

Liz suddenly felt as if she had been struck in the chest with a heavy object. She wanted to run from the room.

"But that's clearly impossible," Germaine said reasonably. "You've met Hamish, and Keir is here on the island, too; I've seen him, and so has Liz. The records have obviously been mixed up in some way.

"No," Dr. Blaylock said, "there's no mix-up. Neither of these boys ever had so much as a filling in his head. The only dental work they ever had, apart from an occasional cleaning, was when they were sixteen; they both had their lower wisdom teeth removed on the same day. That's when these films were taken." When Germaine still did not seem to grasp what he was saying, the professor spoke again. "My point is that one of the twins is lying over there in that shed. Or at least, his remains are."

Germaine stared disbelievingly at Blaylock, but did not seem to be able to speak.

"Are you saying," the sheriff said, "that one of those boys murdered the other one and has been pretending to be his brother?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I have no idea how or when that boy was killed. But," he said, "it's my guess that Buck Moses can tell us."

"I think you're right," Liz said.

"Why do you think Buck knows?" Germaine managed to ask.

"Buck stole the toolboxes from the professor's camp," Liz said. "I saw them at his house. He must have done it because he didn't want the Light-Horse Harry grave disturbed."

"I think that's exactly right," Blaylock said. "I think Buck buried the boy in that grave on the day he was killed."

Germaine sank heavily into a chair. Liz held on to a table, trying to gain some control over her emotions.

"Germaine," she said at last, "when was the last time you saw the twins together?"

"I remember exactly," Germaine said. "It was the day they left to go off to college, in September of—let's see, the twins are thirty-seven, and they were eighteen then—nineteen seventy. Buck Moses took them to Fernandina in Grandpapa's launch." She rubbed her temples with her fingers. "Hamish arrived at Princeton, I remember, but Keir didn't. We didn't hear from him until Christmas, when we got a letter from New York, Grandpapa and I nearly went crazy waiting to hear from him. Grandpapa had private detectives looking for him."

Dr. Blaylock turned to James Moses, who had been listening in silence. "James, has your grandfather ever said anything to you about this?"

"No, sir," James said. He looked as stunned as Germaine and Liz.

"Well, I think you'd better go and get him and bring him to Dungeness," Blaylock said.

Buck Moses sat in Angus Drummond's study, his hat in his lap, and wiped his face with a bandanna. "Them boys loved each other like nothin' I ever seen," he said, "until that girl come to the island."

"I remember," Germaine said. "Gilly something—I can't remember her last name. Her mother brought her down here from New York for the month of August that year."

"They loved that girl," Buck said, "both of them. They loved her to death. I never saw 'em like that, 'cept that one time."

"What happened, Buck?" Germaine asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I come here to Dungeness to get 'em, to carry 'em to Fernandina, to get a taxi to the airport. They was havin' breakfast."

"I remember," Germaine said. "We said good-bye to them, Grandpapa and I. They didn't want to change into suits."

"That's right. They was wearing them jeans, and they said they's gonna change on the boat. Well, I got 'em on the boat, and they started arguing something' awful, 'bout that pretty girl, the way boys do, and they had a fight. I stop the boat, but I couldn't do nothin' with 'em, I just couldn't. They was rasslin' around, and they fell down, and one of them boys didn't move no more. They was blood on the back of his head, where he done hit it on a bronze cleat." Buck closed his eyes. "They was brains on that cleat."

"Which one hit his head, Buck?" Germaine asked, leaning close to the old man.

"I swear to God, I don't know. I didn't never know. I put the other boy off at Fernandina and tole him to go to school and keep his mouth shut, and I was gon' take care of his brother."

"And he went off, just like that?"

"He in a daze, like. He just do what I tole him to do.

I put him in the taxi and sent him off. Next time I see him, he was home at Christmas. He was Hamish." Buck wiped his face again with the bandanna, and tears rolled down his ebony cheeks. "Next time I see him was the next summer, and he was Keir. He done got to be both those boys."

"And what did you do with the other boy when you left Fernandina?" the sheriff asked.

"I brung the boat up through the marsh to the graveyard, and I put him in ol' Harry's grave, and I said my prayers over him. Then I come back to the dock at Dungeness and didn't say nothin' to nobody, never again, 'bout that day, 'till this minute. I never even said nothin' to Hamish and Keir—whichever he was. He act like it never happen, and so did I. We never said nothin' again 'bout it."

Nobody in the room said anything for a long time; then the sheriff stood up. "Germaine," he said, "this is no business of mine; I've got no interest in what's happened here. There's no crime, as far as I'm concerned, only an accident—involuntary manslaughter at worst, and the statute of limitations ran ut on that years ago. I'm not about to arrest somebody as old as Buck for covering up a death, twenty years ago. It's history, and family history, at that, and I'll leave you to do what you will about it." He flicked dust off his Stetson. "I'll bid you all good-bye, and I'm going to forget this day just as fast as I can. Germaine, I'm real sorry about Mr. Drummond." He left the room and the house. Moments later, the helicopter departed from the front lawn.

"Buck," Germaine said to the weeping old man, "I don't know if you did the right thing, but I know you didn't do wrong. You've got nothing to feel bad about. I want to thank you for letting me have my brothers for all these years."

James stood up. "Come on, Granddaddy, I'll take you home." The two departed, and Dr. Blaylock stood up.

"I'm going to tell my students that I didn't find any matching records. I'm going to tell myself that, too." He handed the X-ray film of the twins to Germaine. "Here, you get rid of these." He left the house, and the two women were alone in the study.

Germaine looked at Liz. "Oh, Jesus, honey," she said, "what are we going to do?"

Liz spoke through her numbness and grief. "We're going to get some help," she said.

Liz sat at Germaine's desk and held the telephone, while Germaine anxiously listened in. "That's the worst story I ever heard," Dr. Douglas Hamilton said. "What have you done about it?"

"Nothing, so far," Liz said.

"Then you've done the right thing," Hamilton said. "This man has spent the past twenty years pretending to be—no, not pretending—actually being two people. It's a sort of self-induced schizophrenia, and it's very deeply ingrained. I'll wager that when he is one of the twins, he has no conscious memory of what happened when he is the other."

"That doesn't seem humanly possible," Germaine said.

"The human mind can exclude whatever it wishes, if it's well enough motivated. Your brother's guilt is such that it is unbearable, so he has excluded the memory of his twin's death, and the only way he can keep his twin alive is by living his brother's life, as well as his own."

"But how can we stop this?" Germaine demanded. "How can we help him?"

"You can't stop it, and you can only help him by continuing as before." Hamilton sighed. "Germaine, if you force him to confront reality, you will destroy him. For an identical twin, the act of killing his brother is tantamount to suicide, and the only way he could avoid that was by refusing to acknowledge it. If he is made to acknowledge it, then it's very likely that he would take his own life."