Unwept (6 page)

“Did you just get here? Is the doctor with you? Did you bring lots of party dresses? Do you like lobster? I should have been at the door to greet you. We have so many things planned for you! Is your trunk upstairs? Did you meet anyone from town on the way in? How was your train ride? Would you like to see your room? There are so many handsome young men in town just now for the fall house parties. You'll have to meet Merrick; he's by far the handsomest. He's my beau, you know. Is that shade of green popular in the city? It reminds me of a soldier's uniform.” Jenny pointed at Ellis's skirt.

Ellis had opened her mouth several times in an effort to answer Jenny's barrage of questions, which quite took her breath away. Finally perceiving a moment's hesitation, she looked up, smiling, and simply said, “No, I don't think so. In fact, I can't stand it.” The girls' eyes met in merriment. Their laughter spilled out and floated out across the water.

“I can see you're travel weary. Here,” said Jenny, taking Ellis's hand in her scarred right hand. Jenny tucked Ellis's hand into the crook of her elbow. As she did so waves of relief poured over Ellis. In this moment she felt safe. Arm in arm they strolled up the lawn toward the house.

“Your garden is lovely; it still looks like summer,” said Ellis.

“Oh, do you really like it? I was hoping you would. Merrick thought you would like it, too. He helped me with it. You always liked summer best. Did I mention he's my beau?”

Ellis wondered if the very important-seeming Mr. Bacchus had actually been trimming the hedges in the garden. It seemed unlikely.

Ellis hesitated, not knowing how to respond. She knew it must show in her face, for Jenny chortled lightly and said, “Forgive my blithering. I'm just so happy to see you. I know I probably shouldn't ask, but do you remember anything yet? Do you remember me?” Jenny looked into Ellis's eyes with such hope that Ellis wished she were good at lying so she could tell her yes.

“Well, I'd have to say that beyond knowing my name, I don't know anything much. I have a million questions I'm just bursting to ask you.”

They sat down on a porch swing and gazed out over the water.

“Where to begin? Please tell me something about myself, my family, where I'm from, anything at all really,” begged Ellis.

“Oh, dear Ellis, I wish I could!”

“What do you mean?”

“I once lost memories, too, and the doctor and Merrick helped me piece my life back together again. This is one of the reasons you're here, because they believe I'd understand better than most how you're feeling. I wish I could tell you things, but the doctor would be unhappy with me. He says your case is different than mine and it is very important for you come to remember on your own.”

Ellis struggled with tears. Two spilled over the rim and down her left cheek. This was not the answer she was hoping for or one she understood. She now knew why the doctor had dodged answering any questions in the car.

“Tears. I wish I could put them in a bottle, dear Ellis. It's going to be fine somehow; I promise,” and Jenny leaned forward, touching more than wiping them away. “I recall less about you because of my accident than some of the others, I guess. I'm sure you will begin to remember soon.”

“I wish I had some proof that I'd been here before … that I know this place … that I belong. I wish I just had a picture, a photograph, of the two of us.” Ellis tilted her head down and away from Jenny's awkward ministrations.

“I think it's quite possible, now that you mention it, there is a picture somewhere in the house. It's very important to you, isn't it?” Jenny twisted the muslin of her skirts in her fingers, looking thoughtful.

“It would make all the difference to have something tangible.”

“Tangible,” Jenny echoed the word, and her eyes brightened. “Well, if we found a picture, then you'd just be looking at it, right? I mean, I wouldn't have
said
anything. I couldn't be accused of breaking the rules.”

Rules?
Jenny thought.
What rules?

Smiling at each other, they jumped up from the porch swing and arm in arm strolled into the house.

6

DISTANT THUNDER

The sound of a low rumble rolling over the ocean woke Ellis. The morning air beyond the snug warmth of her quilt was chill. She struggled to hold on to sleep as a thin slice of morning sunlight slipped through the drapes of the French windows and fell across her face. She opened her eyes and they focused on the tiny framed photograph on the bed stand next to her.

Jenny had brought it to her last night. It was a picture of two young women. One of the women had long, flaxen hair and bowed lips. Alicia, Ellis supposed, as Jenny had said so. The image certainly looked like the woman Ellis had met hanging on the arm of Merrick the day before. The photo was grainy, however, making it hard to discern whether the features of the second young lady were Ellis's own. It was obvious that the porch in the background was Summersend. From hairstyles and apparent ages it looked as though the picture may not have been taken too long ago. She ran her fingers across the glass, studying her face and form in the picture. It seemed to be her and somehow more herself than she presently felt.

She dropped her hand away.
It's because I knew myself then.
She breathed in envy for the certainty that she had known in the moment the picture was taken. Ellis was now keenly aware of the gift in conviction of one's own identity. It was silly, she knew, but she would have been more comforted if the photograph had been of her with Jenny and not Alicia. She knew she should feel lucky that Jenny had bent the doctor's rules a bit for her sake. It was harmless enough to have the picture and no real help except that she now knew she'd been here before. And that was much more than she could claim yesterday.

Sliding her feet from beneath the covers, she reluctantly placed them on the dusty wool carpet beneath her feet. When she first entered the room last night, she was struck by the beauty of the vaulted ceiling. A pair of French doors led to a tiny, private balcony with a view of the bay and a narrow stair up to the widow's walk. The ornate wood-carved canopied bed commanded the room. The down quilt on it was embroidered with soft pink roses like those in the garden below. The scene called to Ellis's heart. Someone knew what she would like … perhaps even more than she did.

The room was lovely but on closer inspection not really ready for a guest. The bedding was the only thing in the room that wasn't covered in dust.

Her eyes lit on her trunk, next to a large armoire.

Ellis frowned.
How did it get up here?

Ellis had wanted to ask Jenny about the trunk last night but thought better of it. If Jenny saw Ellis's dismay she kept it to herself and no explanation was forthcoming about the dusty room or the trunk. These things were just another oddity on a long list in a very odd day. Ellis had shrugged her aching shoulders into the nightgown Jenny produced for her use. In bed she had closed her eyes tightly, pushing away thoughts of the train and the nightmare as a deep weariness stole over her. Jenny had made her feel welcome. The smooth wood of the piano case had felt good beneath her fingers, though it was locked. Sleep had wrapped her in a sweet, dreamless oblivion until the sun found her.

But the trunk was in her room all the same when she awoke.

Ellis dressed quickly in the heavy green skirt and cream blouse from the day before. She glanced at the trunk, which she hadn't touched last night despite Jenny's urging, and wished that when it was opened she would find something prettier and more fashionable than what she was wearing. But there was something about the trunk's peculiar movements she didn't trust. The smell of breakfast wafted into her room and she followed her nose downstairs to the dining room.

The large dining table was set for two at one end and several chafing dishes crowded the place settings. There was a newspaper neatly folded next to one of the plates. A small envelope casually lay to one side of the folded paper. She picked up the envelope and was surprised to find it addressed to both her and Jenny. The flap of the envelope was simply tucked in the back. Ellis gingerly opened it and found an invitation to a luncheon given by Alicia for later today. She let out a breath she'd been holding, disappointed that it was a mundane luncheon invitation. She had to smile wryly. What had she been expecting in the little note? A grand missive explaining all the missing pieces to her life? She knew it was rude to read the mail without Jenny, but any little bit of information she could gather was welcome. She carefully slipped the note back into the envelope and replaced it on the table.

She wondered where her cousin could be and peeked around the kitchen door to see if she was still in there cooking. Jenny was not in the kitchen, nor were there any dirty pans or other signs that a meal had been prepared there.

“Do you need something in the kitchen?” Startled, Ellis jumped back from the door and ran into Jenny, who was directly behind her.

“Oh, so sorry! I was looking for you, actually. The kitchen is so clean. How do you do it?” Ellis blurted out.

Jenny led Ellis back to the table, smiling. “I don't. I mean I don't cook, not really. Ever since…” She held up her maimed right hand. “Folks from town are always dropping things by. One of the Disirs must've brought this. I recognize the chafing dishes.”

Ellis smiled stiffly and wondered about such casual country manners that neighbors didn't even knock or make their presence known. “Is that how my trunk got upstairs to my room? A neighbor?” They sat down at the table.

“Well, yes, at least I think so. Merrick promised he'd help me, but he was late. He must have toted it upstairs while we were down in the garden. I wish he'd stayed to visit.…” Jenny's voice trailed off as she removed the lid from the first chafing dish, revealing eggs and sausage.

Ellis uncovered the second dish and helped herself to buttered toast. She glanced down at the newspaper by her plate and realized that the little invitation that had been lying next to it was now missing. She looked about the table and glanced on the floor by her feet but saw no sign of it. Jenny looked up questioningly, but Ellis busied herself with the paper, all curiosity about the missing envelope disappearing as she read the headline:

SUSPECT SOUGHT IN GRISLY MURDERS

Down East Region Uneasy in Wake of Killings

There was a half-tone photograph of a young woman accompanying the article. The original image must have been slightly blurred, as the woman's features were indistinct. The shape of her eyes, however, reminded Ellis strongly of the girl with the striking violet eyes she had briefly seen on the railroad station platform just the day before. She moved on from the grainy picture and began reading the text of the article beneath.

F
ROM OUR CORRESPONDENT IN GAMIN:
The citizens of the entire coastal region rest uneasily this morning after police reported the fourth in a series of violent and horrific slayings of young artists. The latest foul deed was perpetrated two nights ago in the vicinity of the docks in the port city of Bar Harbor. Presumed dead is Philida Epstein, a pianist, from Portsmouth, New Hampshire, who suffered partial dismemberment. The police initially had difficulty identifying the victim of this heinous crime in part due to the extent of disfigurement inflicted on the woman's features. Notably, her hands have not yet been recovered.

The police continue to investigate although, as with the other cases, leads remain few. The coroner reports the woman initially died of blood loss and internal trauma due to numerous stab wounds to her body and the slashing cuts about her face. Presumably the more horrific aspects of the crime occurred after her death.

The three other victims: Miss Amanda Delacourte, a dancer from Bangor, Maine, discovered garroted and disfigured in Halifax, Nova Scotia; Miss Julia Carter, a poet originally from Salem, Mass., found bludgeoned and stabbed in Moncton, New Brunswick; and Miss Hepseba Lindt, a seamstress from Gloucester, Mass., garroted and maimed in St. John, New Brunswick, in a manner similar to Miss Delacourte.

Merrick Bacchus, leader of our community, was quick to comment on the events: “Our lads are across the seas, battling in this war to end all wars and facing the cruel privations of that conflict … now we good citizens of Gamin and our neighboring environs are threatened with those very horrors visited upon our fellow citizens. We must be vigilant against the outsider—the foreigner who is visiting such evil among us.” Merrick called upon Police Captain Michael O'Meara to bring all the force of the constabulary to bring this renegade to justice.

Captain O'Meara has been in consultation with officers to the north who have been following this string of deaths on our Down East shores. Some of those intimately acquainted with the investigation have alluded to a special witness—currently sequestered—who may have been the survivor of a previous attack in Halifax and from whom authorities hope to gain the identity of the monster-at-large.

Citizens are urged to lock their doors, travel in the company of friends and remain at home at night.

The toast was bland and cold in Ellis's hand. Ellis shuddered and put the paper down and tapped it. “Did you put this here?”

Jenny looked up. “Oh no. I don't really care for papers much. One of the Disir sisters must've brought it with breakfast, I'd guess. They have a penchant for the sensational.” Jenny asked, her eyes round, “Do you think it's true?”

“I don't like to speculate about such things.”

“It says they ‘sequestered' someone,” Jenny continued. “What does ‘sequestered' mean?”

“It means they are hiding a witness who may have been attacked before.” All the questions that Ellis had put aside to find sleep last night circled hungrily around her. A chill slid down her spine.
Am I the “sequestered witness”?
She desperately needed to know about herself and the people who seemed to be caring for her in this place. Was Jenny really her cousin or just a watchdog? Both? Did she need to escape this place or to hide here in the shadows? Had something horrendous happened to her that was too horrible to recall? Ellis looked across the table at Jenny. She suddenly needed to know what had happened to Alicia's invitation. She put down her fork and stood from the table. “Look, I know the doctor doesn't want anyone to tell me about me. But perhaps you could give me a tour and tell me about yourself and Gamin.”