Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines (28 page)

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Authors: Diane Greenwood Muir

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Friendship - Iowa

BOOK: Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines
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“Do you promise?”

“I won’t,” she growled. “You know I have no problem siccing your wife on you, don’t you?”

“That’s why I have to get my licks in when I can. I’ll talk to you later, Polly. And thanks.”

She went back into her apartment and Ben stood up with Genie and Kevin Campbell.
“Polly, we’re going to get out of your hair. I have a few things of Thomas’s that I would like his son to have and they’ve invited me to their home for the afternoon. I look forward to meeting his granddaughters.”

He stepped over and gave her a quick hug. “Thank you for bringing us together. I lost a very good friend when Thomas was killed, but I look forward to getting to know his family better.”

Polly walked them to the door. Genie stopped and took her hand. “I had no idea that my life was going to become the center of a strange vortex of events. Thank you for making it easier for us to deal with all of this and thank you for trusting us. I do wish that I’d known long ago that Thomas was looking for me, because I was ready to stop running. What a foolish woman I’ve been.”

“Come on, mother,” Kevin said, taking her arm. “No more talk of foolishness. You did the best you could with what you knew. We’ll not have any regrets today.”

She smiled at him and shrugged, “He doesn’t let me get too morose. I’m thankful to have him.”

“We’ll be here tomorrow night,” Kevin said. “My daughters have been helping my wife sew costumes for the Masquerade Ball. I guess one benefit of having a drama department and a family of seamstresses is access to things that most others don’t have.”

“I look forward to seeing you!” Polly said and watched as they walked down the front steps.

What a morning. She looked at the door to Grey Linder’s room. The thought of the filth in there bothered her, but she knew she didn’t have permission to go in yet. He was paid up until … huh.
She should ask Jeff about that.

Polly ran down the steps and into the auditorium. The transformation was gorgeous. Jeff and Henry had begun in the center. They had hung a large, glittering chandelier of crystals which reflected the strings of white lights that were strung out in a circle to the walls. Henry was on a ladder with a six foot silver mask, working to affix it to a chain coming down from the ceiling while Jeff stood below him, watching the action.

“Jeff?” she asked as she approached.

“Hi Polly, what do you think?”

“I think it’s amazing. But I have a question.”

“Sure, what do you want to know?”

“Has Grey Linder paid for his room beyond today?”

He bit his lower lip and then said, “No.
In fact he was behind. But I don’t suppose he really thought about paying me while he was being rushed out of here on a stretcher.”

“So, I could get in there and clean the place up and not be crossing any boundaries?”

“Well, that’s kind of an iffy boundary. Why?”

“Because when I looked in there the room was totally trashed. We haven’t been in for a while to change sheets and the room is littered with empty bottles of alcohol. I can hardly stand it, knowing that it’s that filthy.”

“Oh. Well, then, I’d say you have every right to go in. I can’t imagine he’s going to get back here in time to do pay us. Honestly, if he’s in the hospital, I doubt he’ll come back at all.”

Eliseo had come up behind them while she was talking and said, “Let me bring a trash can. We’ll haul the empty bottles out first so I can recycle them. Then, we’ll work on the trash.”

“Are you okay leaving all of this?” she asked, looking around the room.

“I’m good for now. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” Polly went back upstairs and swiped open Grey Linder’s room, stepped in and then stepped right back out. The room reeked of sweat and booze and she didn’t know what else. The first thing she did was strip the bed. Everything came off and landed in a pile in the hallway. There were quite a few bottles that were nearly empty, so she took those into the bathroom, poured the last little bits down the drain, and rinsed them out.

She heard Eliseo gathering up bottles and went out to find him standing over the trash bin. “How much was this man
drinking?” she asked. “It’s like he had a huge frat party all by himself.”

“It wasn’t this bad when he first
arrived,” Eliseo said. “I cleaned the room several times and there were wine bottles and an empty whiskey bottle every once in a while, but nothing like this.”

“When did you quit cleaning?”

“It was just after Thomas Zeller died, so I guess it’s been about two weeks. He told me that he didn’t want me in the room. I knocked every day and asked for his dirty dishes and if I could change his sheets. I usually got the dishes, but no sheets.”

“Poor old guy lost his mind,” she muttered and sat down at the desk.
It was a beautiful secretary and she pulled the top down to see if he’d stowed anything in there. “Are there any empty boxes downstairs, Eliseo? We’re going to have to pack this stuff up.”

“I’ll take the bottles downstairs and bring some up.” He opened the shoe closet and pulled out a couple of suitcases. “I think we can start with these.”

“His clothes must be in awful shape. Why don’t we wash those as well. I can’t send filthy things out of here.”

She turned around in the chair and Eliseo glared at her. “You should just buy the man new clothes. This is disgusting.”

“Bring me a box and I’ll do it,” she laughed. “Once hot water hits them, everything will be better.”

He left and Polly turned back to the papers in the desk. There was a legal pad with writing on it and none of it made any sense. It was as if the man had written random words, hoping they would turn into something important. She flipped through the pages and found more of the same. He was losing his mind.

There were two more legal pads with the same types of things written on them. Was this what he had been doing for the last month? She couldn’t imagine knowing that words were no longer coming out in a coherent manner. Eliseo came back with two boxes and the pair of work gloves she’d been wearing earlier.

“If you’re touching his clothes, at least protect yourself,” he shuddered, handing them over. “I’m going to open the windows to air the room out. I’ll make sure to close them later on.”

“Thank you. That’s a good idea.” Polly opened dresser drawers and found dirty and clean clothing all mixed in together, so she pulled it all out and dumped it in a box. Eliseo had already taken shoes and other things off shelves and dropped them into one of the suitcases. She placed the notepads on top and fished out the man’s extra pens, pencils and blank paper, filling the case.

“No computer?” she asked.

“I never saw one. He just sat at the desk and wrote.”


That makes it easier.” They opened the drawers and cupboard doors to make sure there was nothing left. “Do you think I need to buy another mattress?” she asked. “This was pretty horrible.”

Eliseo didn’t respond.

“That does it. I’ll call this afternoon and have them deliver one on Monday.”

“That’s going to get expensive if you have to do it very often.”

“I don’t generally have old drunks who are losing their mind rent my rooms. This was a lesson I needed to learn.” Polly started to pull the door shut and saw something move. There was a robe hanging on the hook. Using just the tip of her finger and her thumb to pick it up, she spied a piece of yellow legal paper in the pocket. “What’s this?” She let the robe fall into the box, then gingerly pulled the folded sheet of paper out.

The writing was barely legible, worse than what had been on the pads, but she quietly read what he had written.

 

“Last Will and Testament.

 

I soon shall die.

My breaths are numbered

And sleep draws nigh.

 

I killed the man

My young self shot him

And then I ran.

 

I am tormented

Lives have I ruined

A man is dead.

 

The girl named Nell

Who hid her heart from him

Needs me to tell.

 

She did no wrong

Her innocence true

Her wait too long.

 

Thomas, now killed

At least ‘twas not me

Look close afield.

 

All that I have

I give to charity

My soul to save.”

 

There were words and letters scratched all over the page as Grey Linder attempted to work out rhymes. If these were his last words, at least they were coherent and he made sure to speak of Genie Campbell’s innocence. Polly carried the laundry down to the washing machine. Did he know who the killer was? It read like he was telling them to look at someone close to Thomas.

She put her gloves back on and sorted the clothes, running the first load through on hot, then went back upstairs to her apartment and called Aaron Merritt one more time.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Aaron, but I found a piece of paper in Grey Linder’s robe.”

“He just died, Polly.”

“Wow. Well, this makes it even more important. He wrote a poem as his last will and testament.” She read the piece out loud to him.

“Okay,” he said. “I need to pick that up. You’ve certainly cleared Genie Campbell. She shouldn’t have run, but his confession tells me that she was innocent. We’ll take it from here.”

“Thank you, Aaron. I’m washing his clothes now. I don’t know what you’ll do with them, but at least they will be clean. We’ve packed the rest of his room, too.”

“We’ll deal with it. Thanks, Polly.”

She sat back on the sofa, not wanting to talk to anyone else. The man’s life had dwindled to nothing in his last days. He had ruined so many lives along the way. Polly felt terrible pity for him, dying alone with no one to care, yet she felt sick at what he had done. She pulled her knees up to her chin and sank back into the corner, unsure as to whether or not to cry
.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT

 

“Too far! Stop!” Sal and Polly were in the bedroom giggling like little girls while dressing for the Masquerade Ball. “You’re killing me here,” Sal cried, as Polly attempted to cinch the corset.

Sal’s plane had come into Des Moines earlier that afternoon and she had driven up to Bellingwood. She told Polly that she didn’t want to put anyone out, but after some of their deep conversations, Polly realized that Sal was still afraid Mark wouldn’t be happy to see her. The girl wanted the option to make a break for it
, if necessary.

Polly, on the other hand, knew that Mark was head over heels for her friend. Even though he didn’t know she was showing up for tonight’s gala, he was already planning his Christmas so that she would be comfortable while meeting his family.
She had promised to come for the holiday week as long as his family didn’t think they were meeting his future bride. Sal had never made this type of a commitment to a man in her life. Although she wasn’t ready to give up her job and family back in Boston, the fact that she was coming to the middle of Iowa so often told Polly her heart was finding its way to Bellingwood.

“One more time,” Polly waited for Sal to take a breath. She quickly pulled the corset into place and laced it together. They were on their fifth attempt and Polly was worried they’d never figure this out before someone wet their pants from laughing so hard. “Are you okay?”

“They did this every day?” Sal asked, spinning around on her left foot to face Polly. “Here. Tug on this. I think you got it this time.”

“Are you going to wear the hoop with this dress?” Polly held up her friend’s deep, red gown. She’d had it shipped to Bellingwood rather than Boston and it had been hanging in the back of Polly’s closet. The red velvet skirt was immense. It was unbelievable that so much material had gone into one dress.

“A corset and a hoop,” Sal complained. “And people think my spike heels are uncomfortable. At least I can slip those off under my desk and the rest of my body gets to breathe during the day. This is awful!”

“But you’re going to be beautiful.”

Sal pranced over to the dresser and pulled out a set of fake vampire fangs. “Beautiful? I was kind of looking for deadly.”

“In this dress, you’re going to be a bit of a shock. No more deadly this week, though, okay?”

“No more deadly.” Sal reached over and touched Polly’s arm. “I’ve been so excited about tonight, I haven’t taken the time to talk to you about yesterday. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Polly said. “I know Grey Linder wasn’t a friend, or even a particularly friendly person, but what a miserable way for his life to end. To be all alone in a strange place, drunk and waiting to die. He had no friends or anyone who cared about him. At least Genie Campbell figured out how to make a life for herself. And she had a wonderful son that she raised.”

“And Thomas Zeller had you there when he died. And he knew that his love was near. He got the opportunity to see that she had a full life.”

“It still bothers me that he didn’t get a chance to meet her so they could finally voice their love out loud.”

Sal sat down on the bed, the corset holding her body upright. She chuckled as she shifted around in it. “You know, Polly, there’s no guarantee that they would have even liked each other after all these years. It may have worked out for the best. Sometimes a love that never finds fulfillment is better than discovering it never would have worked.”

“I guess that’s all she will know. He did love her, though. You know he made sure in his last will that they had everything.”

“That has to have made someone pretty angry. Who do you suppose stood to lose everything?”

“I haven’t seen the original will yet. Ben Seafold was going to make sure Aaron got it so he would be able to either discover or eliminate money as a motive.”

Sal watched Polly shimmy into her petticoat. “I want to wear what you’re wearing. You aren’t going to work nearly as hard at your costume as I am.”

Polly just laughed at her friend. Sal would be glorious tonight. Her pale skin and dark hair were a wonderful complement to the red dress and would accentuate her role as a vampire. Polly always felt like Cinderella’s stepsister next to the tall beauty, no matter what she wore.

She’d found a deep, midnight blue gown. The low-cut bodice was velvet, with long sleeves, while the satin skirt flowed with yards of material. Eight inches of lace trimmed the bottom of the dress and the first time Polly tried it on, she’d gone into the front room to spin around and watch the skirt billow around her. There was a large satin bow in the back and she’d found a pretty cameo to wear on a velvet choker around her neck. This was the second time in a week that she’d felt elegant in the dress she wore and hated that these were costumes and not something she would ever wear again. She and Henry needed more opportunities to dress up in Victorian garb.

Polly did a small spin in her bedroom and Sal smiled. “You really are beautiful, Polly.”

“Next to you I’m a junior high moppet,” Polly complained.

“Don’t ever think that and you’ve gotten even more beautiful since you moved back here. It’s that smile of yours that shows up no matter what’s going on. You should wear something wild on your lips tonight.”

“I’m not wearing bright red lipstick! You can pull it off, I can’t.”

Sal dug through her travel case. “Then try this one.” She handed a tube of lipstick to Polly. “It should be perfect.”

Polly took it into the bathroom and read the bottom. Dusty Rose wouldn’t be too bad. She applied the lipstick and rubbed her lips together. Sal was right. While she was there, she put on a little more mascara and brushed at the makeup on her eyes. Her mask was on the counter and she pulled it over her head, adjusting the strap. She fluffed her hair into its curls and let it hang loose. She was no Sal Kahane, but she’d do for a simple girl from Iowa.

She looked up when Sal came in, fully dressed, and wearing her mask. Sal smiled and then all of a sudden, her fangs dropped down. While Polly stared, the fangs retracted.

“How did you do that?” she gasped.

Sal handed her the package. “I ordered these a couple of weeks ago and even though I had to spend some time making them fit my mouth this week, I thought they’d be fabulous. Aren’t they fabulous?” She dropped them and retracted them a few more times. “Am I deadly yet?”

“You will certainly draw every man’s attention and if their wives get nervous, deadly might be in the cards,” Polly said. “Sheesh. You’re glorious.”

“Whatever,” Sal waved her off. “So we’re on the same page. You don’t know me until after Mark has figured out that I’m here. I’m staying away from you, okay?”

“Got it. You’re
a mysterious guest who came for a Masquerade Ball. Maybe we should make up some crazy story about how you are a wealthy New England financier, in town to open a school that will teach Physicks, with a ‘k’ because it’s steampunky, and Engineering to the young women who aren’t allowed at University. You’ve made your money developing longer lasting wicks for the street lamps.” Polly laughed.

“Or I won my great wealth as the first female airship captain and my steam-powered horseless carriage was offloaded from my fantastically opulent airship earlier
today and yes, I’m here to look for land and a contractor to build this school. So, who are you?”

“I’m the local school mistress, Miss Pollyanna Percival. My father believed that education was important for all children and he bought this building for me. We have dormitories off to the side for the young people to live on-campus while they learn. It’s quite progressive for this newly established state of Iowa.”

Sal hugged Polly and they giggled again. Polly loved having her friend around. She held on for a moment. Sal was the one person who had known Polly through the roughest parts of her life and Sal was the one person who had also known Polly’s dad and had met Mary and Sylvester Shore. It was so good to have her in town after the emotional ups and downs of the last two weeks.

“Shall we make a grand entrance?” Sal asked, when they finally let go of each other.

“You should go down the back way and slip in, just in case Mark is already here. I need to go through the front doors.”

“That sounds great. Don’t forget, you’re beautiful. Hold that head up high and walk like you own this place.”

“You nut,” Polly laughed. “You are beautiful too. Thanks for being here.”

She waited while Sal walked
out and then went down the front steps to the large foyer and into the auditorium. The main lights were dimmed and the white lights streaming from the center of the ceiling gave the room a festive atmosphere.

Jeff looked up when she approached. Two baskets of colorful masks were on the table beside him in case party goers hadn’t realized that the invitation was serious.

“Are you ready for a fun evening?” he asked. He was dressed in a long coat with a bright blue vest and black cravat. He had round wire glasses and was holding a gold-tipped cane. His wide rimmed top hat sat on the table beside him.

“You look great,” she smiled. “And I’m ready for just about anything.”

The string ensemble was playing on stage and Polly smiled to see that they had dressed the part. Rather than formal tuxedos, the men were in brightly colored vests and white shirts with sleeve garters, and the women were wearing extravagant gowns. “Even the orchestra dressed for tonight?”

“Some of them are part of the Iowa Steampunk society. They were looking forward to this,” he said. “We actually have a few people from that group who are joining us tonight. The masks are new for them, but the costumes are their own.”

“I think Anita Banks is coming in her costume,” Polly said. “Have you seen Doug or Billy or anyone else yet?”

Jeff pointed at a table along the far wall. “Your friends are over there. I believe Lydia already has Aaron on the dance floor.”

Polly felt a tap on her shoulder and then a deep voice spoke. “Would this beautiful woman offer me the privilege of a dance?”

She spun around and
recognized Ben Seafold in a brown tweed coat, carrying an empty pipe in his hand. Polly took a deep breath and drew in the scent of pipe smoke on him. It was a scent she adored. She wasn’t sure why, since her father never smoked, but for some reason, the smell made her want to bury her face in his jacket. She restrained herself and said, “Thank you.”

He escorted her to the dance floor and she smiled at Aaron and Lydia. Lydia had a huge bustle at the back of her dark green gown. There were quite a few people she didn’t immediately recognize because of their masks and she realized how happy she was that so many had gotten into the spirit of the evening.

Sal was lingering around the outskirts, flirting and chatting, trying not to be obvious about looking for Mark.

Sylvie came out of the kitchen, leading a group of kids wearing harlequin masks. Polly was always surprised at her creativity. They had set up a buffet along the south wall and Sylvie had decorated the tables with gears, old clocks, dark amber bottles and skeleton keys. There were even a few pairs of goggles scattered around. She was dressed in a simple white blouse with a long black skirt. A pair of goggles was propped up on top of her head and as busy as she was, no one was going to give her trouble about not having her mask on.

“You’re a million miles away, Miss Giller,” Ben said to her.

“It’s fun to see everyone’s costumes and try to figure out who is who with their masks on.”

He swept her across the floor toward the orchestra, and they danced a while longer in silence. As the song came to a close, he said, “I probably won’t
have another opportunity to dance with you this evening, but I want you to know what a gift you’ve given me this week. Thomas Zeller was my friend and I thought that I’d lost everything when he died. But you found me and allowed me to be here and meet his family. Thank you very much.”

Polly smiled up at him, wishing she could hug him, but he had her waist and her right arm, controlling the dance. “I’ve enjoyed having you here. You are always welcome at Sycamore House.”

The room was filling and Polly found it more and more difficult to pick out people she knew. Ben stepped away and approached a table where Kevin and Genie Campbell were sitting. She smiled and waved on her way to the front door.

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