The Drowned Woman. Terry Thomas Lynn

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СКАЧАТЬ SMASHING REICH!’ The photos beneath the caption depicted a bomb’s wreckage and ruin. I flipped through the pages until I came across an ad for Quentin Reynolds’ radio piece entitled, ‘What Nazis Did to Civilians in Russia.’ Underneath that a small headline announced, ‘17 OUT OF 100 FATHERS MAY BE DRAFTED BEFORE 44.’

      ‘Pretty soon there won’t be any men left,’ Helen said. She picked up Zeke’s shirt and tossed it in the laundry hamper. ‘Do you want me to draw you a bath?’

      ‘No,’ I said, setting the paper down. ‘I’m going to dress and go outside.’

      ‘Do you need me for anything?’

      ‘No, Helen. Thanks for taking such good care of me,’ I said.

      ‘I’ll go down and get you some coffee and cinnamon rolls. Mrs Griswold’s cinnamon rolls will make your ankle feel better,’ Helen said. ‘I know it sounds crazy, but they have curing abilities. You’ll see.’

      ‘Knock, knock.’ Daphne breezed into the room, decked out in breeches and tall leather boots. She carried a crystal vase filled with an assortment of flowers I recognized from our tour of the garden. ‘These are for you, Sarah. I picked them myself this morning.’

      ‘They’re gorgeous. Where in the world did you get that vase?’

      ‘I bought it from an estate sale in Chesterton. It’s Waterford, probably late nineteenth century.’ She set the vase down on the table next to the breakfast tray and arranged the flowers until they were perfectly symmetrical. ‘I scour estate sales and church jumbles. This sort of vase is out of fashion now, but I like it, so to heck with fashion.’

      She had used child’s marbles in a myriad of colors to secure the stems in the bottom of the vase. I recognized a cat’s eye, a couple of clams, peppermint swirls and an abundance of ordinary glass marbles, plain yet brilliant, especially when the sunlight reflected their colors through the cut crystal vase.

      ‘I read about it in one of the women’s magazines I subscribe to. Don’t tell Toby, a good many of them came from his toy box. By the way, Zeke’s downstairs with Simon and an insurance adjuster, who’s come about the emeralds.’ She said, ‘We can listen through the dumbwaiter in your sitting room if you want. Come on.’

      I got out of bed, tested my ankle, and discovered it didn’t hurt if I was careful. I followed Daphne to the little door that accessed the dumbwaiter. She put her finger over her lips. I nodded in understanding. She raised the door and we both leaned into the shaft, eavesdropping without shame.

      ‘—or anyone in your family have any dealings with any jewelers in Portland, Oregon?’

      ‘Why would we?’ Simon’s voice floated up to us.

      ‘Never mind the “why,”’ the man said. ‘I’m asking the questions today. As you know, our company paid a large claim to you when the emeralds were reported missing. Now that one of them has surfaced, surely you can see why my company wants to investigate.’

      ‘But surely you don’t think that someone in this family has sold the emeralds to a jeweler in Oregon?’ Simon said.

      ‘That’s exactly what he thinks,’ Zeke said. ‘We know that one of the emeralds has turned up in Portland, Oregon. The police have it. If and when it, or any of the other emeralds, are returned to our family, our lawyer will contact you. My family is not in the habit of committing fraud.’

      ‘If the emeralds are recovered, we will expect reimbursement for the claim we paid, Mr Caen.’

      ‘I think you should leave, Mr Spencer. Our lawyers will be in touch.’

      ‘But I—’

      ‘I assure you, you have our full cooperation. I just got into town last night and am still getting familiar with the situation. Thank you, Mr Spencer,’ Zeke said. We heard footsteps and a door shutting.

      ‘Zeke certainly knows how to take charge,’ Daphne said. ‘You love him very much, don’t you?’

      ‘Is it that obvious?’

      She smiled for a second, before her expression became serious. ‘What’s wrong, Sarah? Something’s bothering you.’

      I weighed my words before I spoke. ‘Someone pushed me down the stairs last night. I am certain of it, or at least I was certain of it last night. Now I think I’m being fanciful.’

      ‘I can assure you that no one in this family would want to harm you.’ She smiled at me.

      ‘Not even Will Sr?’

      Daphne’s face became serious before she forced a smile. ‘I’m so sorry that you had to witness that scene last night Don’t let him bother you. He speaks that way to all of us, except Granna, of course. He’s upset because we are about to be invaded. Again.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Any minute now the reporters will be at the gate, never mind the police investigation. Will Sr is a fusspot, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

      Helen came in with a tray laden with a coffee pot and a plate heaped with cinnamon rolls. They smelled divine.

      ‘Join me?’ I asked Daphne, as Helen busied herself setting the tray down on the small table.

      ‘No, thanks. I’ve got to get to the barn. Lessons at nine-thirty.’ Daphne walked over to the table to survey the food and coffee. ‘Mrs Griswold is a world-class baker. Oh, Helen, make sure that the vase comes directly back to me.’

      ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Helen said.

      ‘I’ll be off then,’ Daphne said. ‘Rest well, Sarah.’

      Resting well didn’t work for me. I had no intention of staying in bed, so I moved over to my desk and transcribed a few of Dr Geisler’s handwritten pages. I had just finished proofing my work when the curtains rustled in the breeze, and the sweet smell of the mown grass wafted into the room. I pushed away from the typewriter, ready to be outdoors.

      * * *

      Downstairs, the curtains were shut, cloaking the foyer and the adjoining rooms in darkness. I didn’t hear a sound, nor did I see anyone. I knew Zeke and Simon – and probably Will Sr – were at the mill. I opened the front door and headed down the porch stairs.

      I walked down the long driveway, staying in the shade. Seadrift raised his head and nickered at me when I walked past the pasture. In the distance, the roof of the stable peeked out among the trees. Soon I was by myself in a wooded area, the trail covered in dead leaves and lichen. I came to a weathered barn, bleached gray from years of sunlight. Bright green ivy climbed the front and wove through the rafters. A limb had fallen onto the roof and rotted there, long forgotten. I veered left, away from the old building, and toward the sun-dappled lane that led to Millport. I walked along the railroad track, my ankle getting better with every step. By the time I reached the town proper, my injury was all but forgotten.

      Recalling Zeke’s narrative about the different shops and the people that owned them, I passed the bank, the café, and the general store. I headed for the stationer’s. Despite my brand new typewriter, I still liked to write notes longhand. While some women shopped for shoes and hats, my passion СКАЧАТЬ