Fixing To Die

Dickce frowned. “When you put it like that, no, it doesn’t. Should we bother to look any further here?”

“I’m inclined to think not,” An’gel said. “Marshal Turner Junior was a good man, but not a particularly imaginative one. I simply can’t see him wanting a secret passage.”

“You’re right,” Dickce said. “I guess we’ll have to look elsewhere in the house, then.” She traced the pattern of the upper part of the tree on the left side of the mantel. She pushed on various carved figures and several leaves but without result. “Nothing,” she said.

“Before we abandon the fireplace altogether,” An’gel said, “let’s try an experiment.” She headed toward the door, and Dickce followed after a moment.

“What are we going to do?” Dickce asked.

“I’m going to stand in the doorway in a position where I can see both sides of the wall. You will walk along the wall out here”—she indicated the hallway—“slowly, until it seems to me that you are even with the dividing wall. I will tell you to stop.”

“Then you’ll go to the doorway in the next room and look to see if where I’m standing is even with the wall on that side.” Dickce nodded. “Yes, let’s do it. If there seems to be a discrepancy, we can get a tape measure and do it more exactly.”

An’gel got in place, and Dickce walked at a slow pace down the hallway next to the wall. An’gel watched carefully, and when she thought her sister had reached the point where the dividing wall crossed, she called out, “Stop.”

Dickce stood in place, and An’gel hurried past her to the doorway of the next room, the library. The door was shut, and An’gel knocked three times. Hearing no sound from within, she opened the door and got in position. She thought Dickce’s position was roughly equivalent to the dividing wall on the library side. She shook her head.

“No spatial oddity?” Dickce asked.

“None that I can see,” An’gel replied as she began to move toward her sister. “We ought to move on.”

A voice from above somewhere startled both An’gel and Dickce.

“What are you doing?”

An’gel glanced up to see Primrose Pace peering over the banister rail about halfway down the stairs. “Conducting an experiment,” she said. Should they tell this woman what they were doing? she wondered.

Mrs. Pace saved her the trouble. “Looking for a secret passage, I’ll bet.” She laughed. “That would sure make things even more interesting, but I think you’ll find that what’s going on in this house has nothing to do with any secret rooms or staircases.”

“You’re convinced, then,” An’gel said, her tone cool, “that the spirits are the cause?”

“I am, sure as I’m standing here.” Mrs. Pace laughed again, then started down the stairs. After three steps she paused, and as An’gel watched, the woman’s eyes grew large and her expression turned to one of sheer terror. Her knees gave way, and she sat on the stair tread with a loud thump.

CHAPTER 8

For a moment An’gel feared that Mrs. Pace might tumble forward down the stairs, but the woman grabbed one of the spindles of the banister and steadied herself. An’gel followed Dickce up the stairs to proffer assistance.

They stood side by side on a stair that put them at eye level with the medium. Mrs. Pace’s eyes remained closed, and her skin had an ashy cast to it, but when An’gel started to ask the woman what they could do to help, Mrs. Pace held up a hand to silence her.

Is this part of an act? An’gel couldn’t be certain. Had the medium really experienced a supernatural episode, or was this a stunt geared to encourage their belief in her abilities? An’gel exchanged a look with her sister, and she could tell Dickce felt some of the same skepticism she did.

An’gel decided to speak even if the medium wanted her to remain silent awhile longer. “Mrs. Pace, are you all right? Do you need anything? A doctor? Something to drink?”

The medium’s eyelids fluttered open, and she appeared to be having trouble focusing on An’gel and Dickce. Then her eyes cleared, and a slow smile replaced the dazed expression.

“That was amazing,” she said. “Did either of you feel it?” She glanced from one sister to the other and back again.

“Feel what?” Dickce asked.

“The cold,” Mrs. Pace replied. “It passed right through me, though it did seem to linger a moment. I wasn’t expecting to encounter a spirit so soon.” She shivered suddenly. “The cold of the grave. That’s what it felt like.” She pulled herself upright and looked down upon An’gel and Dickce.

“I hoped the spirit would remain and try to communicate with me.” The medium motioned for the sisters to precede her down the stairs, and An’gel and Dickce turned and walked down. Mrs. Pace said, “She did not, despite that momentary hesitation. I feel sure she will eventually.”

Once they’d reached the first floor, An’gel turned to face the medium and asked, “You believe the spirit is female?”