Deception at Dark Hall (The Briony Martin Mystery Series) (8 page)

“I understand. I take it you’ve been cleared of the crime?”

“I’m not high on their list of suspects anymore. I think the ten stitches in my head helped sway them.”

She sighed. “Thank goodness. What a terrible ordeal you’ve been through. I appreciate your both coming by to fill me in.” She abruptly stood and nodded to Lee, who indicated the visit was over.

“Miss Dark needs to rest now,” she said. “She has a séance to prepare for tonight. Will you be attending, Mr. Collier?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight. My head still hurts.”

“Will I be hearing from you again soon?” Sharlyn asked him. “I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent alone recently. I do hope to see much more of you, privately.” Her skirt swished when she moved forward and planted her hands on his arms. She smoothed her expression into a sweet mask and kissed both of his cheeks, European style.

His mild embarrassment was apparent, but from Briony’s viewpoint, the nymph had enchanted him once again. “I’ll be in touch soon,” he promised.

Lee strode to a pull-cord near the door and yanked on it. Within moments, the butler appeared. Briony and Daniel said their goodbyes and trailed him to the front door.

Outside, she slid onto the driver’s seat of the Coronet and started the car. He settled his weight into the passenger seat and heaved a great sigh. “Isn’t she lovely?”

Without commenting, Briony pressed on the gas. She passed through the gate and glanced in the rearview mirror. Instead of looking smaller the further down the driveway she drove, the mansion appeared to expand into a living, breathing creature.

A lump of fear crawled up her throat. Was Paige right? Was some kind of witchcraft being practiced there? Daniel behaved like a man under a spell. He seemed oblivious to the strange magnetic pull that had drawn him to both of the Dark women. Couldn’t he feel what she did? That something sinister hid within the depths of Dark Hall?

She turned off of Lake Shore Drive and sped up the car, praying he’d never return to Dark Hall again. If the spasms in her stomach meant something, Daniel could very well become its next victim.

CHAPTER SIX

Briony parked the car at the curb in front of the Collier home. When she and Daniel entered the house, Paige met them at the front door. Her face was stretched into a mask of terror. Trembling, her voice climbed an octave higher than usual.

“Thirty minutes ago, Sergeant Montague of the police department phoned. He wants to speak to you again, Daniel. He asked you to call this number.” With a shaking hand, she passed him a slip of paper with a phone number on it. “He would like for you to meet him at the police station, but I suggest you ask the sergeant to come here instead.”

“Why? What’s happened? You look scared to death.”

“I am. Something was pushed through the mail slot in the front door not ten minutes ago.” She strode to the coffee table and picked up an envelope and thrust it at him. His name was typed on the front. After reading the letter inside, his eyes bulged. “Where’s Mark? Has he seen this?”

“Yes. He’s upstairs with the baby. She started crying right before you walked in. He’s rocking her back to sleep.”

“Did you or he see who put this through the slot?” Daniel asked.

She shook her head. “The mail comes in the afternoon, so it wasn’t the postman.”

“There’s no stamp or postmark,” he noted.

“I was in the kitchen,” Paige continued. “I heard the squealing of tires, and it sounded close, so I glanced out the window and saw the tail end of a car heading down the street. I didn’t hear anyone approach the door. No one knocked or rang the bell. When I stepped into the living room, I saw the envelope on the foyer floor.” She looked ready to burst into tears. “What does it mean, Daniel?”

Briony’s curiosity could wait no longer. “May I see what the fuss is about?” She reached for the paper in his hand. Her gaze moved across the typed words that threatened Daniel with death if he didn’t mind his own business and leave the Dark women alone. Realizing too late that she’d broken the most basic of investigatory rules, she gritted her teeth in frustration. “We’ve all touched both the envelope and the paper, which we shouldn’t have done. Our fingerprints may have smudged those of the person who sent this.”

Paige’s mouth gaped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” Her lips quivered, and then her gaze shifted to Daniel. With eyes suddenly flashing, she ground out, “This is all happening because you got mixed up with Dark Hall. We’ve heard the rumors. I knew that place was evil. You almost got yourself killed. You still might! Now you’ve involved not only me and Mark, but also my best friend!”

Briony wrapped her arm around Paige. “Let’s all stay calm. Daniel will call Sergeant Montague right now, and he’ll come over and sort everything out. The police will know what to do. It’ll be all right, you’ll see.” Daniel stood with a blank expression on his face. Briony nudged him in the ribs. “Go call the policeman. Now.”

~ * ~

Sergeant Montague donned plastic gloves. He read the note and then put it back into the envelope and slipped the envelope into a plastic bag as evidence. Next, he dusted the outside of the mail slot and front door for prints. When he’d finished, he lowered his weight onto the couch.

“It’s unlikely we’ll be able to lift fingerprints off the envelope and paper since all of you touched them.” His mouth tightened with annoyance, and his gaze flitted around the room. “But if we’re lucky, we might get a hit off the mail slot or door.” He leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed the mug of coffee that Paige had offered him upon arrival. He took a sip. “In the meantime, Mr. Collier, I’d suggest lying low. A death threat is nothing to take lightly.”

“You haven’t found Shelby yet, I take it?” he asked.

“No. No sign of her or the murder weapon. We went through her brownstone with a fine-toothed comb. Funny, but it doesn’t appear to be lived in.”

“What do you mean?”

“It must not be her permanent residence. There’s no homey feeling. It’s sparsely furnished. You probably weren’t there long enough to notice, but there are no photos anywhere in the house. The kitchen has no pots or pans in the cupboards. No food in the refrigerator. The liquor cabinet is stocked, however. And there are clothes hanging in the closet of the bedroom we assume to be hers.”

“What type of clothes?” Briony asked.

“Dresses, shoes, hats, nylon stockings…female clothing.”

“But what style?” she persisted. “Dressy, casual, expensive, plain?”

His gaze was direct. “A lot of the stuff looked like it belonged to a street walker, if you want my honest opinion.”

Paige gasped. “Is that what she is, Daniel?”

“Of course not,” he snapped. “Briony met her. She wasn’t dressed anything like a…a…that type of woman.”

Montague went on. “My people found makeup and perfume bottles and lipsticks on the vanity table. We also discovered cocaine hidden in her underwear drawer. If and when we find Shelby Dark, she’ll be brought up on a narcotics charge.”

Daniel paled.

“I knew it,” Paige said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You said it was the other one who was involved in drugs,” Mark reminded her.

“The other one?” the sergeant said. “Do you mean Sharlyn Dark?”

“Yes,” Briony answered. “I see you know about her.”

“The neighbor who called in the gunshot told us there’s a twin. The neighbor met her once. She said she came home from work one afternoon to find who she thought was Shelby sitting on her outside steps looking dazed and confused. Having thought she’d locked herself out of her apartment, the neighbor offered to call a locksmith. That’s when she discovered it wasn’t Shelby at all. The woman introduced herself as Shelby’s twin, Sharlyn. The two engaged in pleasant conversation for a few moments. That’s when the neighbor realized the woman was blind. Then Sharlyn suddenly excused herself, carefully made her way down the steps, and disappeared down the street.”

Sitting next to Daniel on the loveseat, Briony sensed a distinct hum mushrooming from him. She felt it vibrate between them like a tuning fork.

The policeman continued. “Sharlyn Dark lives in a castle called Dark Hall on Lake Shore Drive. You’ve probably heard of the place. We interviewed her late last night. From what she told us, the sisters inherited the mansion from their grandfather, Oliver, when he died ten years ago. They were only thirteen years old at the time. They never knew their father. Their mother—Oliver’s daughter—has lived in a mental institution since the girls were toddlers. Miss Dark told us their former housekeeper raised her and her sister.”

“Did you know that about her family history?” Mark asked Daniel.

He shook his head, trying hard to hide his surprise. “She hasn’t talked about her past.”

“What was the housekeeper’s name?” Briony inquired.

Montague checked his notes. “I don’t have that written down and can’t seem to recall at the moment.” He jotted some notes into the pad on his thigh and then took another sip of coffee. “When I questioned Miss Dark about her grandfather’s death, she said it had been an accident. He fell down the spiral staircase and died upon impact at the bottom of the steps. There was an accident report filed. Our department records corroborate her statement.”

A vague unease snuck along Briony’s chest wall. “Excuse me, Sergeant Montague. I wonder if you might be able to do more research into his death? Can you get access to the city’s medical records? Is the coroner who conducted the autopsy on Oliver Dark still alive?”

He hitched his shoulders in a slight shrug and chuckled. “Who have we here? Nancy Drew?”

Smiling, she was pleased to be compared to one of her favorite fictional heroines. “I think it would be helpful to confirm that the grandfather’s death
was
simply an accident, as the documentation claimed at the time.”

“What are you getting at, Miss…?

“Miss Martin of Wichita, Kansas.” She cleared her throat. “Being a family of extreme wealth, it’s conceivable that the Dark sisters, or someone on their behalf used their power and influence to convince the coroner to list Oliver Dark’s death as an accident on the certificate.”

“There’s no reason to believe it wasn’t an accident. Do you know something I don’t?”

“Call it a hunch,” she said.

He shifted his weight and leaned forward, interest sparking his clear eyes. “The Chicago Police Department doesn’t work on hunches, ma’am. Are you suggesting someone paid the coroner to forge a death certificate?”

“It’s possible, is it not? Maybe the fall wasn’t an accident at all. It might be worth doing a little digging into the past, considering the Dark women have found themselves at the center of a suspicious death.”

The sergeant rolled his eyes. “Now you’re telling me how to do my job, Miss Martin?”

Heat crept up her throat. “I’m sorry, Sergeant. I should keep my mouth shut.”

He chuckled. “It’s okay. Actually, that’s a good idea. Doctor Crisman has been Chicago’s coroner for twenty years. He’s still alive and well. I’ll have one of my men pop over and interview him immediately. I’ll authorize them to bring him to headquarters if the good doctor proves to be uncooperative.”

Daniel’s head turned, and he glared at her. Irritation barely contained his body. No doubt, he felt a sting of betrayal. She was suggesting the woman he cared for might be involved shady dealings, even if he’d yet to admit his love for Sharlyn.

Montague added one final thought. “Last night, Miss Dark claimed she and her sister haven’t been in touch for a long time.”

“We spoke to her a couple of hours ago,” Daniel said. “She didn’t mention having talked to you last night. I’m sure she’s worried and confused. It probably slipped her mind to tell us.”

Briony struggled to tamp down anger that flared in the pit of her stomach. He was making excuses for Sharlyn. Why
hadn’t
she mentioned the sergeant’s visit? She’d acted surprised when Daniel told her about Shelby and Andrew Whealdon. That meant she’d lied to them, even if it was by omission. Probably, she was hiding her twin at Dark Hall, too. Having been a twin herself, Briony would have done anything for Ben. But she would have drawn the line at murder!

“
You
spoke to Sharlyn Dark? I don’t understand.” Montague’s gaze narrowed.

“I’m acquainted with both sisters,” Daniel confessed. “I met Sharlyn several weeks ago. I only met Shelby yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you mention this when I interviewed you last night?”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly, having been attacked and left with a concussion and wounded head. I was in a confused state myself.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose that’s understandable.” Montague’s expression didn’t hold much sympathy. Policemen were used to criminals lying and covering up facts, and he probably didn’t have much patience for people who didn’t fully cooperate with them. His steady gaze raked over the others. “When I questioned Miss Dark about Andrew Whealdon, she said he’s been a client of hers for a few months and that he met Shelby through her. Apparently, Miss Dark is a psychic or clairvoyant or some such, and she holds séances and claims to speak to the dead. She said Mr. Whealdon told her he’d lost both his parents and he came to her hoping to communicate with them.”

Briony spoke up. “Wait a minute. You said he’d been her client for three months? That doesn’t make sense. Sharlyn told us she hasn’t seen or spoken to Shelby in close to six months.”

“Is that so? She failed to mention that important fact. Seems to be a lot of that going around.” The policeman frowned at Daniel and then scratched the new information into his notebook. “The victim was fairly new to Chicago. He came here eight months ago from Nebraska and was working for the Chicago Daily News. He was a rookie reporter and evidently anxious to move up the ladder quickly, according to his co-workers. My partner’s at the precinct right now reading through all of Whealdon’s articles to see if he wrote anything about Dark Hall.”

Briony leaned forward, grasping his theory. “Do you think he might have pretended to be a client so he could get access to Dark Hall and write an investigative report about Sharlyn and what she does for a living?”