A Ghost to Die For (9 page)

“I see why the painting could be mistaken to be a Renoir. It certainly is in his style. Love the fact he often included bits of red or orange in a painting. Was it the red-haired woman that caught your eye?” Alex asked.

“At first it was, that is a favorite subject of Renoir. But it was also the market scene that got my attention. I’ve been to France and this could be a scene in Paris, except for the body of water in the background, it doesn’t look like a river to me, what about you?”

Alex put down his fork and zeroed in on the painting. “Can you enlarge the section that shows the water?” he asked.

“Yeah, I took a close-up shot of that part of the picture, here, thumbnail number six will show it.”

“It’s not a river. Look the pattern of waves rolling onto shore. I’d say it is the ocean, not a lake and that body of water is certainly not a pond.” Alex looked closer at the painting. “Yeah, it is the ocean, with waves coming onto a shoreline, but not a bathing beach, to shallow of a shoreline for that. ”

“
Does it look familiar to you, at all?” I asked.

“Lots of shoreline along the San Diego coast looks nearly the same as what is in the painting. Look again at the close up, notice how toward the right frame of the picture that the shoreline has a dramatic curve, and there’s that bit of a triangular rocky outcropping, well, that part is familiar looking, but I’m not sure where I may have seen it.”

“Alex, could this be a painting of a place near here?”

“The only place in San Diego, now or in the 1800s when this was painted, that has a market area like that in the scene is down toward the Gaslamp Quarter. And, I’d say no way could this painting depict that part of old San Diego. Anywhere in the Gaslamp area that could have been, or still is, a market square like what is in the painting, there is not a view of the ocean at street level. Some of the older buildings down there have ocean views at third-story level. But the ocean view is nothing like the shoreline in the painting.”

“Hmm, rats.”

“You still think the scene in the painting is familiar to this area?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, I do, though I cannot say why.”

“Shannon, show it around, maybe Greg Winslow or Rosario will have some ideas to help you.”

“Oh, Alex, it’s probably nothing. I have to admit, I seem to be grasping at straws when it comes to this mystery involving Andalyn Dixon and Ruby Red.”

“And Marie Laveau and that witch doctor, let’s not exclude them.”

“Yes, and then there is the bank scam and the Halloween myth concerning Andalyn’s involvement in it. And if all the confusion is not enough, Otis Van Wyck has me on edge.”

Alex raised his eyebrows, “Otis? Why would he have you concerned?”

I explained to Alex what I talked to Chloe about and Alex asked, “Do you think that after you turned around and continued walking that Otis continued to watch you and Atlas until you were out of his sight?”

“Yeah, I feel like that is what happened. By why would Otis behave that way?”

“I do not know. But let’s test it out. This afternoon, same time as your walk the other day, I’ll walk with you and Atlas, same route you two took the other day,
but on the way back I’ll show you the footpath that is the shortcut, okay?”

“I’d like that, and I know Atlas won’t mind a bit. But what if Otis is not out in his garden?” I asked.

“Oh, I’ll think of something. Leave that part to me.”

I nodded my head in agreement and looked at my watch. “I’d like some time to go over the file you got on Ruby Red, then we can talk about it this afternoon.”

“I’m finished, let’s be on our way. I’ve got a list of errands to do and you can have the house to yourself.”

Alex dropped me off at home and then left with the promise to be back in time, with Atlas, for an afternoon walk.

Chapter 16

I got right to work on the file about Ruby Red. Audrey’s collection of notes were scattered, so it took me a few minutes to put the puzzle pieces in order, but once I did, it was crystal clear that Audrey was not being truthful, or she was incredibly obtuse in her detective work. There were several newspaper clippings about Ruby Red, and all of them were illustrated with a picture of Ruby in different poses. And even though these were black and white photocopies of old sepia-toned newspapers, it was crystal clear to me that Ruby Red was the red-haired woman in the Renoir-like painting hanging on the wall at Audrey’s home, the very same painting I took photographs of.

I got out my flash drive and loaded the pictures into my desk computer. After bringing them up to full-screen image, it was even more obvious that Ruby Red had posed for this painting. Good grief, was Audrey blind to this fact? I sincerely doubt that. Now I wondered about Audrey’s motive of cooperation with us. As much as this idea nagged at me, I put it aside and concentrated on Audrey’s notes. After an hour of analyzing the papers I made a list of my conclusions:

   Ruby Red and Andalyn Dixon resided in San Diego at the same time span from 1888 to at least when Andalyn died in October of 1892.

One newspaper reported that Ruby Red was taking leave to visit family and friends in Colorado for the Christmas holidays. The report was dated November 20, 1892.

Audrey made a notation that this was the last report of Ruby Red in San Diego and that a search of newspapers from elsewhere in California turned up nil. There is no mention of a search of newspapers in Colorado.

Another clipping from the real estate news section dated February of 1893 states that the law firm of Benson and Marciano were appointed to officiate the sale of Ruby’s home, the lovely Queen Anne-style cottage on Oak Fair Avenue. The picture that accompanies the announcement depicts the home. Good grief, I thought, it isn’t a cottage, it’s almost a mansion, nearly as big as Blackthorne House B&B. And it looks just like Otis Van Wyck’s home, but his home is not on Oak Fair Avenue. I bet the same architect designed the Van Wyck house. This could be a very important clue. And I wonder if there is a contemporary connection to the law firm of Benson and Marciano?

I set aside my notes and grabbed the local Yellow Page Telephone Directory and flipped to the legal section. Sure enough, there was a law firm of the exact name.
Would they talk with me? Would I have to pay for a visit? That could be expensive.
I decided to approach Alex about this, what with his involvement in a myriad array of San Diego’s associations and committees, maybe he had a connection. I hoped so.

Back to Audrey’s file and that picture. I studied the various newspaper illustrations of Ruby Red, holding them one by one up to my computer screen copy of the painting. No doubt in my mind, the red-haired woman in the painting is most certainly Ruby Red. Now, what about the other woman, the one with the dark hair? Her facial expression looked vaguely familiar, but for the life of me I could not figure out where I may have seen her face. And what was Audrey Sinclair’s connection to all of this?

I was about to go down to the kitchen to get a beverage when I heard the thundering paws of Atlas ascending the stairs to my room. I waited until he gently pushed my room’s door open and then I tried to ignore him. I was baiting him and he knew it. Oh, how I loved this game with this big guy. Sitting very still and staring into my computer’s screen I could see Atlas approach from behind me, but I pretended I had no idea he was there. He gently stepped up to the back of my neck and snuffled it, it tickled me into reaching behind and patting his head. The game was up. I turned around and rubbed his head, right behind both ears.

“Did you come all the way up here for ear noogies?” I asked Atlas.

His answer was to press his head into my hands.

“Whoa there, big guy. You’re going to tip me over, chair and all.” I laughed and stood up. “So, where’s Alex? Take me to your leader, big guy.”

Atlas turned at the mention of Alex’s name and trotted out of the room, I followed him downstairs and into the kitchen. Alex was putting away groceries.

“You’re back sooner than I thought you would be,” I said.

Alex slipped a carton of milk in the refrigerator and turned around. “Yeah, well I got in touch with Otis and offered to take him some of Rosario’s homemade orange marmalade and cranberry jam. She made some before she left and I recall her saying that if I saw Otis to take some to him. So we can go for an early walk and now I have a reason to meet up with him. Who knows, we might even weasel a visit inside his home. His wife adores Atlas.”

“We? He is expecting you and Atlas, what about me tagging along?”

“I don’t see as to how that is a problem. Look, all I need to do is get Atlas attached to his halter and lead, then we can go, Otis is expecting us within the hour. Are you ready?”

“Just a second, I’ll be right back.” I ran up to my room and grabbed my camera, my notes, along with the photos of Ruby Red and her house and stashed them into a thin sling shoulder tote and hightailed it back down to the kitchen. Atlas was ready, so was Alex. And so was I.

Alex picked up the two jars of jam he had set out on the counter, “Do you mind carrying these in your tote?”

“My pleasure.”

Chapter 17

Alex decided to show me the shortcut on the way to Otis’ neighborhood. He was right that I had never noticed it before. The well-groomed footpath was wider than I expected. Back in the day, this path would have been an avenue that easily could have accommodated a horse and rider or even a small horse-driven wagon. In the few times I had walked this way, I had thought it was an old private driveway. The pathway reminded me of a wide alley, except some homes actually faced the path, as if the path was their front street. I asked Alex about this.

“Yeah, a few of the older homes do face this path-way. Way back when, it was a legitimate street. That was in the 1800s, about the time or a little before, Blackthorne House was built. Then later it was used mostly for market vendor traffic. I recall the street had a name something like Fair Oak Street.”

I halted. “You mean, Oak Fair Avenue?” I asked.

I had stumped Alex, figuratively and literally. My sudden halt and his immediate turn around while in full stride nearly tripped him. Atlas had no idea I would do this, he naturally continued on and nearly pulled Alex off balance. It was a comical sight, but I was not chuckling, this clue was too good to be true.

“Now that you say it, yes I’m sure you are correct. Oak Fair Avenue, it has a quaint sound to it, doesn’t it?”

“Quaint and clueish, if I am correct.” I had to smile because I knew Alex was confused about my reference.

“Really, Shannon,
clueish
? Is that even a real word?”

“Maybe not a real word, but it is the perfect description. Just a sec.” I reached into my tote and pulled out my notes. “Look, according to the notes that Audrey had in her Ruby Red file, in February of 1893, after Ruby Red had left town the previous November, the law firm of Benson and Marciano was hired to represent the sale of Ruby’s home. The home was reported to be on Oak Fair Avenue. And, get this, here’s a photo of it, you’ll recognize it, I’m sure.”

I handed the newspaper article to Alex. He took one look at and said, “That’s the Van Wyck home.”

“Yeah I thought so to, but the street name threw me off. Alex, is this weird or what? Otis Van Wyck lives in the former home of Ruby Red. And the reason we are walking over to visit him is so I can get your opinion of Otis and his reaction to me.”

Alex smiled and then said, “I knew you and your uncanny intuitive intelligence would break this case. Shannon, this is too good to not be a solid lead. Hey, we better hoof it and get there soon, no time to waste.” He winked, grabbed my hand and said to Atlas, “Let’s go.”

The pathway ended at the Van Wyck house. This spot was a different angle to the house from what I had ever noticed. Trying to be discreet, I held the photo of the home at waist level and whispered to Alex, “It looks nearly identical to when it was sold.”

Alex was looking up at the home. “Yeah, it has aged well. I wonder if the Van Wyck’s purchased it from Ruby Red? I know that the Van Wyck family has been in San Diego for at least over a century. It could be that it was Otis’s ancestors who bought the home. Hey, I see Otis.” Alex waved.

Otis had left the side verandah of his home and walked to the front gate just as we approached. He opened the gate and welcomed us in.

“Well, who do we have here?” Otis said, looking at Atlas.

Atlas wagged his tail in slow circles, a sure sign he was comfortable with the greeting, and looking forward to a treat.

“Well now big fella, today you are gonna have to do a little walking to get a treat. Harriet is inside and I know she has a few biscuits in her hand, just waiting for an Irish Wolfhound to come in and say hello to her.” Otis looked at Alex and then nodded at me. “I reckon that by default of being your owners, Alex and Shannon should come on in, too.” Otis’ eyes twinkled in merriment. “Of course, Harriet is looking forward to visiting with you, as well.”

We followed Otis up the six stairs of the front porch into the lovely foyer. A tall grandfather clock stood sentry next to an ornate brass umbrella stand. On the opposite wall was a sturdy oak coat rack. Two lightweight jackets were held there, one of ladies’ apparel and the other one I recognized as a jacket I often saw Otis wearing. The hall wallpaper was an intricate paisley design in soft hues of yellow, amber and ivory. It was a cheery room.