High Intensity (17 page)
Finally Zanita spoke.
"So how do you explain the cobwebs?"
Tyber's light blue eyes flashed with appreciation. "I was wondering when you were going to bring that up."
"Yes, I bet you were. There was no way someone could have come through that secret passageway to rain kitchen gadgets down on us without disturbing those webs. Yet we had to break through them when we went by."
A dimple appeared in his cheek. "Scary, isn't it?"
"Tyber!" She stopped and poked his chest. "You don't have an explanation, do you?"
He rubbed his ear. "Actually, I do, but you're not going to like it."
She placed her hands on her hips. "Go ahead."
"There are only two rational solutions. The first is that whoever was up there never went through the passageway in the first place, but entered the door from the platform in the library earlier and waited for us to appear. When we did, the culprit opened the door a crack, which would not be seen by us below, and showered us with the Julia Child rainstorm. Which is damn odd, now that I hear myself say it."
"The theory?"
"No. The gadget deluge."
"Oh."
"The theory is fine."
"Nope. Not going to wash. Where did this culprit go when you found the doorway? By your theory, he would still have been there. Otherwise, he would have had to disturb some of those webs. They were unbelievably thick."
"Which brings me to my second theory. I don't recall seeing those webs last night when I first discovered the passage. They might have been there; I didn't examine the passageway too closely. But my guess is that they weren't."
"What are you saying, that somehow the webs appeared overnight? That's impossible! Not that thick screen."
"That's exactly what I'm saying. They did appear overnight. All it takes is a can of web spray."
"Web spray?" Zanita laughed. "Sounds like something Paul Mitchell would devise for avant ducks. What is it?"
"Just what it sounds like. Kids use it all the time at Halloween. It doesn't look exactly like a web, but it's close. At the time, we took it for granted that the webs were real. We weren't even paying attention to them except to get them out of our way. The darkness aided the deception, too."
Zanita scoffed. "You're reaching."
He shook his head. "I don't think so."
"There's one way to prove it."
"Yes. We go back in the morning when everyone's asleep, take a sample back to our room and check it out."
"You're going to lose this one, Doc. Those were real webs. Women know these things, trust me."
"A kiss says I'm right."
She hesitated. "One of those curl-your-toes-and-leave-no-one-standing kisses?"
He smiled smugly. "Of course. Why else would I bet?"
"You're on." She put out her hand, and Tyber shook it to seal the wager.
"Deal."
Ahead of them, on the bluffs, was a small wooden shingled cottage backed by scudding clouds and the roar of ocean tides. As they stood there viewing the place, a dog bayed at the moon right on cue.
"Castle Sasenfras, I presume."
Zanita chuckled. "No telling how tangled the tale will get now, Doc."
She had no idea how portentous those words were.
"Sent ya hey-ah, did he?"
Sasenfras scratched his grizzled jaw. Just as Todd had said, he was a rheumy old coot. In fact, he looked remarkably like the
Gloucester
fisherman on the frozen-fish boxes… or perhaps like Igor. Igor, the Transylvanian fisherman—that was a whole new concept. Zanita shook her head.
The man spoke with the thickest down-home Yankee accent she had ever heard.
"Yes, Mr… Sasenfras. He said you might be able to answer some questions for us about—"
"Well, then, might as well come on in." He opened the door to a small yet vivid living room which screamed psychedelic sixties. Both Tyber and Zanita stared uncertainly at the spectacle. The garishly bright furnishings seemed completely at odds with this snaggletooth of a man, who would be more at home in a medieval dungeon.
"Sit down there." He pointed to a splashy flower-patterned couch that looked as if it had been imported directly from sixties'
Haight-Ashbury
. Glass-beaded curtains separated the living room from the kitchen and there was an abundance of those modish orange and blue tones that always made Zanita want to gag. Next to the coffee table was an old lava light that was still chugging away; blobs of red floated sickeningly in pink water.
This erstwhile Transylvanian fisherman was not a hip, kitsch decorator. The stuff was all original. Zanita felt as if she had slipped into a time warp. The astounding part of it was that in no way did Sasenfras seem like the aging ex-hippie type. He seemed more like the old European servant to Dr. Frankenstein type.
Zanita would bet that these furnishings had been placed here by someone else. As they sat down, she noticed an old, faded poster in the corner which advised the viewer to "Turn On! Tune In! Drop Out!"
She whispered in Tyber's ear, "Oh, wow, man. This is so-o-o far out!"
Tyber tried not to laugh. This had to be one of the strangest things they had yet encountered— and the list was long.
Sasenfras's penetrating gloomy stare pinned them to their seats, taking away all notions of humor. "I know about it. I hate the way it is, but that's the way it is. So that's it."
Tyber and Zanita blinked. Was he speaking about the furniture or something else? And why was it that the words "caretaker" and "bizarre" always seemed to go hand in hand?
"Why'd you come up here?" he barked at them suddenly, then answered his own question before they had a chance. "As if I don't know."
Zanita and Tyber looked at each other. Obviously, they had come into the middle of a conversation that Sasenfras was having with himself.
Tyber cleared his throat. Being a scientist, he supposed it was up to him to try to put the bell on Igor's neck. "We were wondering if you knew—"
"Of course I know! What do you think, I'm, an idiot?"
Tyber wasn't sure. He rubbed his ear, pausing. He would try again. "Do you think that—"
"The answer is no."
"But I'm not—"
"Sure you are! I've told him time and again. So you can just forget it. Came down hey-ah for nothing, is what you did."
Tyber turned to Zanita and lifted his palms up as if to say, why don't you try? Zanita smiled prettily at Sasenfras. "Mr… um, Sasenfras…"
"Just Sasenfras. No airs for me. Wouldn't need them, would I?"
How was she to answer that? "Um, no, I suppose not. We would simply like to ask you if you—"
"Sorry, won't work. You're a pretty little thing, but the answer's the same. Won't sell, and there's the end to it."
"Sell?" Tyber got in the single word/question before they could be interrupted again.
"That's right. Know he wants it, but he ain't getting it! Was left to me, and that's that."
Zanita leaned forward to ask what he was talking about, but Tyber put a restraining hand on her arm. He had just figured out how to communicate with the caretaker. Simple. No more than three words at a time, directed at specific points. This man had elevated the knack of obscure, dipped Yankee conversation to a fine art.
"Wants what?" Tyber slashed back.
"The portion of the house old Sparkling gave me. The original wing."
Zanita's eyes widened. "You own part of the Florencia Inn? How did you—"
Tyber cut her off before Sasenfras could. This was a race to the punctuation mark. He didn't want to send the guy off again. "Todd's father?"
"Grandfather. Didn't think he'd really do it, but he did."
Zanita looked back and forth between the two of them, amazed that they were actually communicating.
"Nice of him," Tyber probed.
"Nice of him? Twisted bastard! Liked to steal what wasn't his. Like all them Sparklings!"
That took them both by surprise. Especially Zanita, who was not at all sure she was following this exchange. Sasenfras did not appear to be the beloved family retainer, after all.
"Didn't want it?" Tyber watched him carefully.
"Does a man want his leg shackled to the grave?" Sasenfras was getting extremely passionate about the subject. Whatever it was.
"Hmmm." Tyber responded noncommittally, impressing Zanita by not taking a stand in a conversation that as far as she could tell had no focus.
"And all the goings-on there. Played me false, she did. Won't let him touch it!"
"I understand." Tyber nodded sagely. Zanita watched him open-mouthed. He did?
"They say there's strange things happening. Don't doubt it… but it chills a man's bones all the same. Won't go in there again… It'd be just like her… Promised me she'd take it one day. No doubt she will… she will…"
Zanita nodded stupidly. What was he babbling about?
"Got it first?" Tyber spoke softly.
Sasenfrass expression narrowed and sharpened suddenly. "Never said that. Was an accident." He seemed to be mulling something over, then mysteriously added, "Todd's not like the rest, but he won't get it just the same. It's mine!"
"Somethings there?"
Sasenfras's eyes widened in fright. Apparently, he took Tyber's question as a statement. "I know." His hand shook. "I've seen it. Won't go in there again, I tell you."
"Scared you some?"
"Yes." He wiped his brow uneasily. "Hideous thing. Never forget it. I can still hear that scream…"
Trembling, Sasenfras reached over to the electric blue coffee table and grabbed a bottle of pills. He slid one shakily under his tongue.
"Bad ticker?" Tyber watched him alertly.
"That's a fact."
"We'll leave now."
Sasenfras thought a minute. "You can come again, if you have a need to."
Which seemed a strange invitation.
Tyber nodded and stood, bringing Zanita up with him. "Thanks. Appreciate it." He took a bewildered Zanita's hand and led her to the door.
As they opened it, they heard Sasenfras chuckling softly behind them. "Nice view from that bedroom window at night," he said insinuatingly. "Never quite seen that before. You're something else, boy."
Zanita gasped.
Tyber's shoulders hunched slightly and he stared off to the right, his cheekbones turning a dull bronze. "Um, yeah. Thanks."
He quickly pulled Zanita outside.
"He saw us!" she gasped again.
Tyber dragged her rapidly along the path. "Ah…"
Zanita dug her heels in and glared at him.
Tyber decided the only chance he had was to quickly change the direction of the conversation. Damn, but he'd thought the view was obstructed that night. "Do you think he did it?" he asked, trying to throw her off the topic.
"Did what?" She put her hands on her hips, still fuming. "I didn't understand one word of that conversation, if you could call it that."
"It appears Sasenfras was left part of the house by Todd's grandfather."
"That was the only thing I did get. It's that closed-off wing, isn't it?"
"Ahuh. And that is why Todd hasn't refurbished it yet. He can't. It doesn't belong to him."
"I wonder why he didn't tell us that."
"I don't know. The whole thing is peculiar and getting more so by the minute. He had to know that Sasenfras would tell us; so why send us here, then not mention the bit about the will?"
Zanita thought about it. "Maybe Todd and Sasenfras interpreted the will differently?"
Tyber raised his eyebrows. "Not likely. One thing we do know is that Todd wants that wing. He'd be crazy not to; it's part of his heritage, and I imagine he wants to expand."
"What was that about some woman talking it one day? I was completely lost there."
"It seems ol' Sasenfras's wife and Todd's grandfather had a thing going on, and my guess is that it was going on a lot in that old wing of the house. In fact, I'd bet that was where the grandfather had his private quarters."
"But why would he leave it to Sasenfras? Doesn't sound like your typical benevolent bequest, and the grandfather didn't sound like the type who would feel guilty for cuckolding his servant."
"Sasenfras hinted that his wife may have come to a nasty end. It might be worth it for us to see if we can get into the wing and have a look around."
"How would we do that? It's sealed off."
Tyber grinned wickedly at her. "Not from the ledge, it isn't."
Zanitas mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as she thought about it. "No, no. It's much too dangerous. You heard Todd say the ledge might not be sound."
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
"What's that?" she asked puzzled.
"I'm a physicist. We live for this. I'll work out the logistics."