The Black Heart Crypt

Around ten, Judy sat down in the breakfast nook with a second cup of coffee and breathed a sigh of relief.

It was the morning after Halloween. Zack and the whole family had survived. Yes, there would be some expenses related to the damages at Ickes & Son Hardware and they’d need to fix up the porch railing where it had been scarred by a ghost’s extremely lethal knife, but all in all, things could have been worse.

Now it was November 1, the sun was shining, George had gone down to New York City on the 7:10 train, Zack had taken the bus to school, and Judy had the house to herself. Well, except for George’s three aunts, who seemed to be sleeping in.

Zipper sank into his doggy bed and let out his own long sigh. Poor guy looked bushed.

“Relax, Zip,” said Judy. “Halloween is officially over.”

That was when George’s three aunts bustled through the kitchen, making a beeline for the back door.

“Good morning, Judy,” chirped Aunt Ginny as she bobbled by.

Aunt Hannah and Aunt Sophie were right behind her.

“Good morning, ladies,” said Judy. “Hey, I was wondering—should we talk some more about last night and all these Icklebys?”

“We were wondering the same thing,” huffed Aunt Hannah. “Sisters? Outside. Now!”

“Can I come with you?”

“Sorry, dear,” said Aunt Sophie. “It’s not a good idea.”

“Huh?”

“Enjoy your coffee, dear,” said Aunt Ginny. “We really don’t have anything to talk about besides this lovely weather.…”

“Oh, yes we do, Virginia!” said Hannah.

The three sisters, trailed by their three cats, scuttled out the back door.

Judy gave the ladies a few seconds and then slipped over to the sink so she could spy on them through the curtains.

The three of them were standing in a circle around the kettle-shaped barbecue grill.

“Perhaps we should eat breakfast first?” said Aunt Sophie.

“No,” fumed Aunt Hannah. “Virginia, you did this, didn’t you?”

“I did not!” said Ginny. “But now that they’re out, we need to act swiftly. I think we should—”

Suddenly, Ginny glanced at the kitchen window.

Judy hurriedly retreated from the sink, returned to the breakfast nook, and snapped on the countertop TV so she could pretend that was what she’d been doing all along if Aunt Ginny came back in.

“And in local news,” said the television anchorwoman, “police suspect foul play in the Haddam Hill Cemetery outside North Chester, where, late last night, some local teenagers discovered the body of Ms. Jenny Ballard. Dressed in what the police described as a ‘witch’s robe,’ the young girl may have been murdered in what authorities speculate was a bizarre Halloween ritual.”

The TV showed the crime scene marked off by police tape in front of a mausoleum. A name was chiseled over the door:

ICKLEBY

Ickleby!

Who were these people?

Judy gulped one last swig of coffee. “Zip, guard the house. I need to run to the library—now.”