Song of the Spirits (96 page)

Timothy smiled. “They’re supposed to be very similar to people. They say the whales sing.”

“Hopefully not by caterwauling like Mrs. Martyn… Oh, forgive me, sir.” Roly was no admirer of opera. “Will we see whales when we go to England too, Mr. Lambert? The man who drove the boat said there are smaller ones too, dolphins, and they swim alongside the big steamers.”

“So you want to come along to England?” Timothy asked, astonished. “What does your mother say to that?”

Roly laughed. “Oh, she doesn’t need me anymore. She’s making real money with her sewing workshop. But you, you need me. Don’t you, Mr. Lambert?”

The boy looked up at him almost anxiously. Timothy bit his lip.

“I might not be able to pay you anymore.”

Roly frowned and mulled that over while in the hall below them the spirit voice of the
putorino
evoked the return of someone’s love. But then his face brightened.

“But you don’t need me all day anymore, of course. So I can find another job, and I won’t be a burden to you. I just don’t have money for the passage.” Roly’s countenance darkened again.

Timothy, deeply touched, forced himself to smile.

“We’ll manage, Roly.”

Roly beamed. “We will.”

As the two of them were basking in the comforting feeling of security that the song of the spirit inspired, a muffled commotion and screams suddenly ripped them from their reverie. There seemed to be a fight taking place in the apartment above theirs or at the other end of the hallway. It sounded as though furniture was being toppled. A man roared something incomprehensible; then his voice died out. A woman screamed hysterically. Something seemed to tumble down the stairs.

“Go out there and see what’s going on,” he instructed Roly. “Where is it even coming from?” He followed Roly out into the corridor in front of his room, but this was apparently not the center of the action. Chambermaids and other hotel staff hurried past them in the direction of the commotion. Curious, Roly wanted to set after them, but Timothy held him back.

“Wait, I’ve changed my mind. Whatever just happened, there will already be more than enough people standing around who can’t help as it is. Rather, help me change. Quickly, I’d like to go find Lainie. We’ll go fetch her. I have a bad feeling.”

Timothy and Roly reached the hall just as the concert was about to end; meanwhile, ambulance carts were pulling up to the hotel, and the hallways filling with commotion. Timothy took the lift, which was apparently forbidden to the hotel staff. Only the excited lift boy could give them any information.

“Someone went on the rampage—that funny fellow from suite three, I think. He always scared me. Madeleine says there’s blood everywhere, and the woman looks frightful.”

Roly clearly would have liked to see all of that for himself, but Timothy pushed him to hurry. “That sounds a lot like Sideblossom. Oh God, and what did Lainie say earlier about his room? The manager could have rented it three times over because it lies directly over the hall. And even in our room, we heard every note. The chap must have flown into a rage while Kura was playing the
putorino
.”

Kura and Elaine, still beaming, bowed to their audience. As William stood at the edge of the first row and applauded, trouble was erupting in the back of the hall. The business manager was speaking with Heather, and Dr. Mattershine was called out of the room.

Timothy and Roly met Elaine as soon as she left the stage.

“You did come!” she said, smiling radiantly at Timothy. “Wasn’t that wonderful? I could almost get used to it. In any case, now I understand what Kura sees in it. So many people.”

Elaine embraced him, but then she realized from his serious expression that something was amiss.

Heather Redcliff was trying to clear up something with the manager.

Julian Redcliff joined Timothy and Elaine.

“They’re trying to find other rooms for the reception. It can no longer take place in the foyer, because all hell’s broken loose in there. That chap from yesterday, Thomas Sideblossom, just tried to kill himself and that young woman.”

“He suddenly went mad,” Heather reported breathlessly, “and attacked her. His stepmother, right? That’s a strange relationship. Though she managed to escape, she fell down the stairs in the process.
Then he tried to slit his wrists. The manager is beside himself. The room looks like a battlefield.”

“Is he dead?” Elaine asked tonelessly.

“No, both of them are alive,” Julian answered. “But he did not go mad so suddenly. Only once—”

“His room was right above the hall,” Elaine said quietly. “He heard the spirit’s voice.”

Elaine refused to give a second concert under any circumstances. She wanted to go home as quickly as possible—to Queenstown. Timothy could only convince her with great effort that she had to return directly to Greymouth to avoid risking arrest. He, too, felt an urgent desire to get away from Blenheim, the Sideblossoms, and whatever spirits there might be as soon as possible. William and Kura, however, wanted to remain for the time being. It would be easier for them to find a new pianist in Blenheim than on the West Coast, and Kura wanted to give a few smaller concerts in the meantime.

William summed it up succinctly. “At the moment, it doesn’t matter whether she plays the piano, sings, dances, or trains seals; the people want Kura. I told you the concert was going to be a success. And it would have been even without this… well, incident. But now it’s a sensation!!” He looked as though he wanted to kiss Elaine for having married and shot Thomas Sideblossom.

Timothy had arranged for their departure the next morning, but he delayed when Julian Redcliff appeared along with a massive breakfast that he’d had brought to Timothy’s room, and informed Timothy of the latest news over tea and toast.

“I thought you might like to know what ended up happening yesterday,” he said, stretching and looking relaxed.

Timothy still lay in bed looking as though he had not slept at all, and Elaine emerged from the bathroom looking pale. She felt sick almost every morning these days, but Kura assured her that was normal. “I can tell you how to avoid it, however,” she had declared
happily. Elaine waved her offer away wearily. She never wanted to hear about counting days or vinegar douches ever again.

Julian pushed the table with all the breakfast dishes on it over to Timothy’s bed, serving him quite naturally before launching into his story.

“The Sideblossoms are both still in the hospital, but in the end it was not half so bad as everyone initially thought. The young woman has some bruises and a black eye. And got quite a shock, of course. But she was responsive this morning, Dr. Mattershine said. And they could have released the man as soon as they admitted him. He didn’t lose enough blood to even be worth mentioning. But he’s mentally deranged. They’ve sedated him. As soon as the medicine’s effects wear off, he lashes out again. He’s going to an asylum today that specializes in such cases. The woman will be driven home—there are still some unpleasant matters that she must see to there if I understood Dr. Mattershine correctly. But I’m dying of curiosity. What do those people have to do with you, Miss Keefer?”

Elaine remained quiet as Timothy gave a general account of her past. “We never thought we’d run into the Sideblossoms here. But I guess that’s what people call a twist of fate.”

Julian laughed. “It’s what the spirits wanted. And they’ve avenged you, Miss Keefer, if I may say so. You won’t ever need to fear that man again. Anyone who’s admitted to such an asylum doesn’t come out again easily. And when they do release a person, he’s just an empty shell. We had such a case in our family. If you fall into the hands of those doctors, you can say good-bye to your life. It’s worse than a prison.”

We’ll see, thought Elaine. She loved Timothy, but at the moment, she wanted only to return to Queenstown, to the arms of her mother, to the order and cleanliness of her grandmother Helen’s hotel, and to the happy chaos of Nugget Manor. If nothing else, the nightmare of separation from her family was at an end. She planned to telegraph her parents as soon as they were back in Greymouth.

E
laine bent over the sewing machine with a furrowed brow and tried to guide the thread along the complicated path between the spool and the needle. When the thread broke for the third time, she came to the conclusion that she possessed no skills whatsoever as a seamstress. But that was true of the majority of Madame Clarisse’s girls. Over the last few days, they had all given their easygoing boss’s new acquisition a try.

Relinquishing his demonstration model to Madame Clarisse on especially good terms had been among William’s last tasks in Greymouth. “This could smooth the girls’ path back to an honorable life,” he had claimed smoothly. Madame Clarisse gave the thing a thorough try after that and came to the conclusion that nothing was surer to keep her girls in the den of iniquity than the prospect of life with a Singer.

Elaine ripped another thread and cursed.

“Can’t you show me how it works?” she said, turning to Timothy. “You are an engineer, after all, aren’t you?”

Timothy was leaning on the piano in the pub’s barroom practicing darts. It was not easy to maintain his balance without crutches, but he didn’t seem to care. Most of his darts missed the board.

“Dearest, I’ve already given it a try,” he said good-naturedly, “but I can’t figure the thing out either. Though I could maybe build you another.”

Timothy would have given a great deal to be able to build anything at that point. He longed for a task that demanded more of him mentally than the daily training of his legs, which was a great source of frustration because he had made so little progress recently. He still hoped to be able to walk without splints someday, but it would never
be without crutches and never more than a few hundred yards. The realization that he had almost reached his limits sapped his will during his exercise regimen.

“Then we’d just have two of these machines,” she said. “Nothing more. I think I’d rather
buy
clothes for the baby.” Elaine appeared to be in the midst of one of her periodically recurring phases when she feverishly embraced domesticity. She, too, was looking desperately for any activity that would distract her from her fears and broodings.

Timothy left his game of darts and wrapped his arms around her.

“I wish something would finally happen,” he sighed. “This waiting is driving me crazy. They must have come to a ruling in Otago by now. If only this trial would start. And nothing’s moving forward with the mine either. There are evidently a few people interested in having a part in it, Matt says, but it’s all dragging on endlessly.”

“While other people have nothing more to be worried about than getting married,” Elaine remarked, pulling an invitation out from under the sewing machine. “Look, Florence Weber brought it by personally. She’s marrying Caleb Biller on the twenty-fifth of October. That’s exactly how she put it.
She
is marrying him. She’s going to swallow him whole.”

While Timothy was still searching for a reply, the door to the street opened, and Roly stuck his head inside.

“A few people from Otago just arrived at the constable’s office. And they want to talk with you right away, Miss Keefer. Everything looks real official; there’s another constable, and a gentleman in a suit there too. I thought I’d let you know before the constable himself—”

“That’s fine, Roly,” Elaine said quietly. “Thank you.” She reached for her shawl. “Are you coming, Tim?”

Elaine had been dreading this moment, but now that it had come, she was astoundingly composed. However it ended—at least she would know where she stood.

Timothy put his arm around her. “What kind of question is that? We’re going to see this through together, Lainie. We’ve made it through worse.”

For the first time, Elaine felt impatient at Timothy’s disability. It seemed to take forever for him to put on his jacket and take the few steps out onto the street. The new arrivals’ horses were tied up in front of the constable’s office. A bony gray horse and a stocky black one that struck Elaine as familiar for some reason.