The Silence Of The Library

THIRTY-SIX

“Drugged?” Veronica gasped. Why would someone drug her? And how? “I’m sure Mrs. Eden wouldn’t have done such a thing!”

Lucy stared at her. “Mrs. Eden? Who pray tell is Mrs. Eden?”

Veronica blinked several times, and her right hand convulsively clutched at her throat. “I don’t know why I said that.” A memory was trying slowly to push itself into the forefront of her mind.

Lucy remained quiet, for Veronica’s mental struggle was evident in her expression. She grew considerably alarmed, however, when Veronica suddenly collapsed against the pillows. The huge smile that her friend bestowed upon her quickly reassured her.

“You have remembered something?” Lucy asked, waiting tremulously for the answer.

“Yes, I have,” Veronica stated triumphantly. “It has all come back to me now. Mrs. Eden’s name was the key to unlocking my memories.” Her happiness faded quickly, however, as she wondered what fate had befallen her frightened hostess.

Quickly Veronica related to her dearest friend the details of her harrowing adventure the night before. Lucy appeared suitably awed and frightened in turn over the risks that the intrepid young detective had taken in order to help a terrified stranger.

Veronica threw back the covers and prepared to get out of bed. There wasn’t a moment to lose. She must go back to that spooky old mansion and discover the fate of poor Mrs. Eden.

Lucy easily divined Veronica’s intention, for she had known the courageous girl long enough to be aware that Veronica relished a challenge. Common sense, however, dictated that she remind her chum of the lateness of the hour. “It is nearly midnight now, my dear, and you cannot rush forth from here at such an hour. You must wait until morning.”

“I suppose you are right,” Veronica responded reluctantly. “Still, I must get up.” She moved away from the bed, and her steps, though tentative at first, rapidly became more assured. She walked around her large, airy bedroom while Lucy watched her anxiously.

“Now that I have my memory back, I feel ever so much better,” Veronica declared. “Also hungry. Let’s go down to the kitchen and see what Cook might have set aside.”

“Now, dearest, you know that Fontaine will scold if you do such a thing,” Lucy admonished her friend. “Besides, he instructed me to ring for him should you want anything when you awakened. I shall do that now.”

“Oh, very well,” Veronica said with an impish smile. “I suppose it wouldn’t do to upset Fontaine tonight, for he will be cross with me for days afterward.”

Haviland Fontaine, formerly of the British Army, served as Mrs. Buff-Orpington’s butler and secretary. Though fond of his mistress’s young ward, he often deplored her tendency to find adventures. He was also firmly of the opinion that Miss Veronica should remain above stairs and leave the lower regions to the servants as befit a properly reared young lady.

He appeared quickly in response to Lucy’s ringing of the bell in Veronica’s room. His stoic countenance revealed little emotion as he beheld his young mistress seemingly recovered from having been drugged and abandoned beside the highway. Lucy told Veronica later that she would have sworn the butler’s lips twitched into a brief smile, but Veronica scoffed at the notion.

“You rang, miss?” Fontaine was a man of few words. He did not believe, he had once told Veronica, in wasting time or breath on unnecessary conversation.

“Yes, we did.” Veronica nodded at Lucy. “I am frightfully hungry, Fontaine. Perhaps you could find something for us, some victuals that Cook has not yet discarded?”

“Of course, miss.” Fontaine coughed discreetly. “I will also inform Madam that you are awake. She has been anxiously awaiting the news.”

Fontaine soon returned with a platter of bread, cheese, ham, and various fruits. Veronica greeted the sight with cries of delight and was soon happily sating her hunger. Her guardian joined them as Veronica finished the last of the bread and cheese.

“Darling Veronica, how happy I am to see you looking so well.” Araminta Buff-Orpington seated herself on the bed beside her ward and clasped the girl’s hand affectionately. She turned to Lucy with a smile. “And dearest Lucy, what a treasured friend you are to nurse our girl so devotedly.”

Lucy returned the smile. “I would do anything for Ronnie.”

Mrs. Buff-Orpington turned back to Veronica. “Tell me, my dear, how you came to be in such a state.”

Veronica related the events of the previous evening, and her guardian appeared suitably concerned, then relieved that the girl had come through such a harrowing adventure in good condition. “I do admire your concern for the welfare of those in need of aid, but I must condemn your tendency to put yourself in harm’s way.” She patted the girl’s hand again. “Whatever would Lucy and I do if something terrible happened to you? You really must be more careful, child.”

Veronica squirmed with discomfort. She did not like being the cause of unease on the part of such a loving guardian, but yet she could not curb her appetite for adventure nor her concern for others. “I always try my best to avoid danger.”

“I know you do,” Mrs. Buff-Orpington said smilingly, “and I won’t fuss any more. I am feeling rather tired and will now leave you two to chatter away the night as you like or rest.” She kissed each girl on the brow and made her stately way back to her own suite of rooms nearby.

Though Veronica did not feel in the least sleepy, she knew Lucy was tired. Therefore, she did not demur when Lucy changed into her nightdress and crawled into the bed beside her. Veronica switched off the light. They chatted briefly, but soon Lucy was sound asleep.

Veronica lay awake for some time, however, plotting her course. She must go back to that spooky house and investigate further. She could not forget Mrs. Eden’s fear or her plea for help. Finally, near dawn, she, too, fell asleep.

I turned the page to the next chapter.

Ten o’clock the next morning saw Veronica, accompanied by Artie Marsh, on her way back to the house she later learned was named Spellwood Mansion. Artie protested, trying to convince the girl that she should not tempt fate by going back. Veronica, however, remained undaunted. She must see that Mrs. Eden was safe.

Veronica found the estate with little trouble, and she drove her roadster into the forecourt and parked before the front door. She gazed at the house for the first time in the light of day. Though it looked less sinister without a storm raging around it, Veronica thought nevertheless there was something forbidding about the mansion. She shivered, and Artie noticed.

“Are you cold?” His words dripped with concern. He feared greatly that Veronica would again be injured. But if he could protect her in any way, he would. With his height and strong build, he felt sure he would prove a capable bodyguard for the young detective.

“No, I’m fine.” Veronica smiled at her handsome friend. “Come, let’s go knock on the door and see what happens. I have the strangest feeling that more odd and puzzling things will occur.”

As he extricated his long legs from the roadster, Artie hoped fervently that Veronica was wrong. Perhaps the inhabitants had fled in the night, and he and Ronnie could head home. Artie did not fear adventure, for he was a courageous young man, yet his concern for Veronica was paramount.

He wielded the knocker vigorously, and he and Veronica waited. Moments later the door swung open, and Veronica glimpsed the creepy butler, Bradberry.

“Good morning, miss,” the old man said. “Are you returned to visit the mistress?”

“I am.” Veronica boldly stepped past the butler into the entranceway. “My friend Mr. Arthur Marsh is accompanying me today. Please announce us to Mrs. Eden. I trust she is well.” Until Veronica spoke to the mistress of the house, she decided she would not tax the servant with the mystery of her drugging and abandonment in her car by the side of the road.

“She is indeed, miss.” Bradberry closed the front door behind them. “Please walk this way, and I will announce you.” He turned and headed toward the same sitting room in which Veronica had talked with Mrs. Eden the previous day.

Bradberry opened the doors and advanced into the sunlit room. Veronica and Artie, following right behind him, could not at first see their hostess. The butler intoned their names and then stepped aside.

Veronica moved forward. Then her step faltered.

Mrs. Eden arose from her chair and walked toward them, her hands extended, a beaming smile on her face. “My dear, how lovely to see you again. And you have brought a companion. How delightful.”

Veronica stared hard at the woman. She looked like the Mrs. Eden she had encountered the day before, but her manner was so completely different that Veronica was stunned by the change.

While Artie accepted the woman’s hand and shook it, Veronica continued to scrutinize their hostess. Mrs. Eden’s face appeared harder, less fleshy, and more heavily made up than the day before. She also seemed stronger, certainly no longer an invalid.

Veronica relied on her instincts in such situations, and her instincts were telling her that the woman was an impostor. This Mrs. Eden was not the Mrs. Eden she met in this house yesterday.

I chuckled at the melodrama of it. A second Mrs. Eden—as I recalled it, a cousin impersonating the real Mrs. Eden, who was imprisoned somewhere in the house.

Out of nowhere my tired brain connected disparate pieces of information, and I knew who the killer was.