Victoria Thompson - Murder On Waverly Place

Frank smiled to himself as the maid escorted him out onto the front stoop, closing the door behind him with an air of finality.

Alone again, Frank shook his head. The more he found out, the more it looked like Nicola was the only one who really could have killed Mrs. Gittings. He hoped Sarah was having better luck today than he was.

SARAH AND HER MOTHER STARED AT MRS. BURKE IN stunned silence for a moment before Mrs. Burke recalled herself. “Oh, I didn’t mean that, not really,” she stammered. “I mean… no one really deserves to die. Well, perhaps some people do, but surely not Mrs. Gittings.”

“I know you didn’t mean that, dear,” Mrs. Decker said, after a glance to see if Sarah was as shocked as she. “But I never would have dreamed she was such a terrible person. She seemed… I don’t know, nondescript at best.”

“You didn’t know her as I did,” Mrs. Burke said, pursing her lips in distaste.

“Obviously not. But now I understand why you seemed so anxious that day.”

“Mrs. Burke, had Mrs. Gittings threatened you?” Sarah asked.

She looked up in surprise. She’d probably forgotten Sarah was there. “Threatened me? What do you mean?”

“Had she threatened to tell Mr. Burke about your visits to Madame Serafina? Or maybe she threatened that if you didn’t give her more money, she wouldn’t let you come back to see Madame Serafina again.”

“She did both of those things,” Mrs. Burke said in despair. “I was at my wit’s end!”

“And then Madame Serafina told you to sell the diamond brooch your mother had given you,” Sarah tried.

Mrs. Burke’s eyes widened. “No, no, she did no such thing!”

“But I heard her, at the séance I attended,” Sarah insisted.

“Not Madame Serafina,” Mrs. Burke protested. “She didn’t tell me to do anything. It was the spirits! They told me to sell it, but I couldn’t! It was all I had left to remember my mother.”

“But wasn’t it your mother’s spirit who told you to sell it?” Mrs. Decker recalled.

“I know, but I still couldn’t bear to do it, and there was nothing left that Harry wouldn’t have noticed was missing. I didn’t know what to do.” She began to weep softly into her handkerchief.

“Mrs. Burke,” Sarah said sharply.

Mrs. Burke’s head snapped up, her moist eyes wide again and full of apprehension. “Yes?”

“That day when Mrs. Gittings died, when did you notice something was wrong with her?”

“Oh, dear,” she said with a delicate shudder. “I shall never forget feeling her falling against me. I dream about it and wake up screaming-”

“Did you notice anything unusual before that?” Sarah said, jerking her attention back. “Did she make any sound? Or maybe she squeezed your hand or something.”

“I was holding her wrist, so she couldn’t have squeezed my hand,” she reminded them both. “I think I felt her arm jerk a bit at one point, but I can’t be sure. People do move around during the séances, you know, even when nothing terrible is happening to them.”

“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Decker agreed, nodding encouragingly. “But she didn’t make any noises?”

“None that I noticed. I was listening to what Yellow Feather was saying, though, so I might not have heard.” She seemed to have recovered from her fit of weeping.

“Did you sense anyone moving around in the room?” Sarah asked. “Maybe you thought it was a spirit.”

“I don’t know,” she said with a worried frown. “Everyone was talking at once, and with that horrible screeching noise, I couldn’t understand anything.”

Ah, yes, Nicola’s violin. “Mother, did you sense anyone moving around in the room?” Sarah suddenly thought to ask.

Mrs. Decker thought for a moment. “I’m really not sure. If someone was very quiet, I don’t think anyone would have noticed them, with all that was going on.”

“But who could have been moving around?” Mrs. Burke asked plaintively.

“The person who killed Mrs. Gittings,” Mrs. Decker said.

Mrs. Burke’s eyes widened again, and the little color left in her face drained away. “Oh, dear.”

“Of course, we don’t know that anyone was walking around,” Mrs. Decker hastened to explain. “But the Professor seems to think the killer was a boy who worked at the house.”

“He does?” Mrs. Burke asked, perking up a bit. “Why does he think that?”

“Because they had an argument the night before, and Mrs. Gittings tried to fire him.”

“She was a terrible woman,” Mrs. Burke reminded them. “But if they had an argument, why didn’t she fire him?”

“Madame Serafina threatened to leave with him,” Sarah said.

“Why would she do that?”

“They were childhood friends,” Mrs. Decker quickly explained, giving Sarah a warning glance. It wouldn’t do to create doubts about Madame Serafina’s character.

“She’d had an argument with the Professor, too,” Mrs. Burke said.

Sarah and her mother looked at her in surprise. “Madame Serafina had a fight with the Professor?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, no,” Mrs. Burke hastened to explain. “At least, not that I know of. I meant Mrs. Gittings had an argument with him.”

“How do you know that?” Mrs. Decker asked.

“Couldn’t you tell?” Mrs. Burke asked. “From the way they acted that day? Well, perhaps it wasn’t an argument, but they were both very angry. The look she gave him when he escorted me into the parlor that day could have burned a hole through him, and he returned it in kind.”

“Oh, dear, I’m afraid I didn’t notice a thing,” Mrs. Decker said in dismay.

“There’s no reason you should have,” Mrs. Burke assured her. “But I was the first to arrive that day, and of course I was anxious about seeing Mrs. Gittings. I didn’t know what terrible thing she might say to me about the money.”

“I wonder if Madame Serafina knows what they argued about?” Sarah asked her mother.

“She did say they had disagreed about something,” Mrs. Decker recalled.

“When did you speak to Madame Serafina?” Mrs. Burke asked with interest.

Mrs. Decker smiled. “She’s staying with Sarah until the killer is caught.”

“How wonderful!” Mrs. Burke exclaimed. “Perhaps she could do a sitting for me. I’ve been afraid to go back to the house on Waverly and-”

“Of course, if everyone was holding hands around the table,” Sarah said quickly, diverting her from this disturbing plan, “then no one could have gotten up without someone else knowing it.”

“Which proves that the killer had to be someone else,” Mrs. Decker added.

“Unless…” Sarah mused.

“Unless what?” Mrs. Burke asked apprehensively, clutching her handkerchief to her breast.

“Unless the killer was sitting right beside her.”

Mrs. Burke stared at her for a long moment before giving a small cry and fainting dead away.

“ DO YOU THINK SHE REALLY FAINTED?” SARAH ASKED her mother when they were alone in the carriage and heading back to Sarah’s house. After calling for Mrs. Burke’s maid to attend her, they’d felt obligated to leave rather than upset their reluctant hostess further.

“It’s so difficult to really tell,” Mrs. Decker said with a sigh. “Properly bred young ladies cultivate the art of fainting from childhood just in case the need ever arises. One can never be certain of actually being able to faint at the precise moment it would be most advantageous, so learning how to pretend is essential.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Sarah said with disapproval. “I’ve never fainted in my life.”

“Exactly,” her mother said. “Most people never do, not really. But when you want to escape a difficult situation, nothing drives tormentors away more quickly than a well-timed swoon.”