Unwept Page 5

  But the trunk was in her room all the same when she awoke.

  Ellis dressed quickly in the heavy green skirt and cream blouse from the day before. She glanced at the trunk, which she hadn’t touched last night despite Jenny’s urging, and wished that when it was opened she would find something prettier and more fashionable than what she was wearing. But there was something about the trunk’s peculiar movements she didn’t trust. The smell of breakfast wafted into her room and she followed her nose downstairs to the dining room.

  The large dining table was set for two at one end and several chafing dishes crowded the place settings. There was a newspaper neatly folded next to one of the plates. A small envelope casually lay to one side of the folded paper. She picked up the envelope and was surprised to find it addressed to both her and Jenny. The flap of the envelope was simply tucked in the back. Ellis gingerly opened it and found an invitation to a luncheon given by Alicia for later today. She let out a breath she’d been holding, disappointed that it was a mundane luncheon invitation. She had to smile wryly. What had she been expecting in the little note? A grand missive explaining all the missing pieces to her life? She knew it was rude to read the mail without Jenny, but any little bit of information she could gather was welcome. She carefully slipped the note back into the envelope and replaced it on the table.

  She wondered where her cousin could be and peeked around the kitchen door to see if she was still in there cooking. Jenny was not in the kitchen, nor were there any dirty pans or other signs that a meal had been prepared there.

  “Do you need something in the kitchen?” Startled, Ellis jumped back from the door and ran into Jenny, who was directly behind her.

  “Oh, so sorry! I was looking for you, actually. The kitchen is so clean. How do you do it?” Ellis blurted out.

  Jenny led Ellis back to the table, smiling. “I don’t. I mean I don’t cook, not really. Ever since…” She held up her maimed right hand. “Folks from town are always dropping things by. One of the Disirs must’ve brought this. I recognize the chafing dishes.”

  Ellis smiled stiffly and wondered about such casual country manners that neighbors didn’t even knock or make their presence known. “Is that how my trunk got upstairs to my room? A neighbor?” They sat down at the table.

  “Well, yes, at least I think so. Merrick promised he’d help me, but he was late. He must have toted it upstairs while we were down in the garden. I wish he’d stayed to visit.…” Jenny’s voice trailed off as she removed the lid from the first chafing dish, revealing eggs and sausage.

  Ellis uncovered the second dish and helped herself to buttered toast. She glanced down at the newspaper by her plate and realized that the little invitation that had been lying next to it was now missing. She looked about the table and glanced on the floor by her feet but saw no sign of it. Jenny looked up questioningly, but Ellis busied herself with the paper, all curiosity about the missing envelope disappearing as she read the headline:

  SUSPECT SOUGHT IN GRISLY MURDERS

  Down East Region Uneasy in Wake of Killings

  There was a halftone photograph of a young woman accompanying the article. The original image must have been slightly blurred, as the woman’s features were indistinct. The shape of her eyes, however, reminded Ellis strongly of the girl with the striking violet eyes she had briefly seen on the railroad station platform just the day before. She moved on from the grainy picture and began reading the text of the article beneath.

  FROM OUR CORRESPONDENT IN GAMIN: The citizens of the entire coastal region rest uneasily this morning after police reported the fourth in a series of violent and horrific slayings of young artists. The latest foul deed was perpetrated two nights ago in the vicinity of the docks in the port city of Bar Harbor. Presumed dead is Philida Epstein, a pianist, from Portsmouth, New Hampshire, who suffered partial dismemberment. The police initially had difficulty identifying the victim of this heinous crime in part due to the extent of disfigurement inflicted on the woman’s features. Notably, her hands have not yet been recovered.

  The police continue to investigate although, as with the other cases, leads remain few. The coroner reports the woman initially died of blood loss and internal trauma due to numerous stab wounds to her body and the slashing cuts about her face. Presumably the more horrific aspects of the crime occurred after her death.

  The three other victims: Miss Amanda Delacourte, a dancer from Bangor, Maine, discovered garroted and disfigured in Halifax, Nova Scotia; Miss Julia Carter, a poet originally from Salem, Mass., found bludgeoned and stabbed in Moncton, New Brunswick; and Miss Hepseba Lindt, a seamstress from Gloucester, Mass., garroted and maimed in St. John, New Brunswick, in a manner similar to Miss Delacourte.

  Merrick Bacchus, leader of our community, was quick to comment on the events: “Our lads are across the seas, battling in this war to end all wars and facing the cruel privations of that conflict … now we good citizens of Gamin and our neighboring environs are threatened with those very horrors visited upon our fellow citizens. We must be vigilant against the outsider—the foreigner who is visiting such evil among us.” Merrick called upon Police Captain Michael O’Meara to bring all the force of the constabulary to bring this renegade to justice.

  Captain O’Meara has been in consultation with officers to the north who have been following this string of deaths on our Down East shores. Some of those intimately acquainted with the investigation have alluded to a special witness—currently sequestered—who may have been the survivor of a previous attack in Halifax and from whom authorities hope to gain the identity of the monster-at-large.

  Citizens are urged to lock their doors, travel in the company of friends and remain at home at night.

  The toast was bland and cold in Ellis’s hand. Ellis shuddered and put the paper down and tapped it. “Did you put this here?”

  Jenny looked up. “Oh no. I don’t really care for papers much. One of the Disir sisters must’ve brought it with breakfast, I’d guess. They have a penchant for the sensational.” Jenny asked, her eyes round, “Do you think it’s true?”

  “I don’t like to speculate about such things.”

  “It says they ‘sequestered’ someone,” Jenny continued. “What does ‘sequestered’ mean?”

  “It means they are hiding a witness who may have been attacked before.” All the questions that Ellis had put aside to find sleep last night circled hungrily around her. A chill slid down her spine. Am I the “sequestered witness”? She desperately needed to know about herself and the people who seemed to be caring for her in this place. Was Jenny really her cousin or just a watchdog? Both? Did she need to escape this place or to hide here in the shadows? Had something horrendous happened to her that was too horrible to recall? Ellis looked across the table at Jenny. She suddenly needed to know what had happened to Alicia’s invitation. She put down her fork and stood from the table. “Look, I know the doctor doesn’t want anyone to tell me about me. But perhaps you could give me a tour and tell me about yourself and Gamin.”

  Jenny’s eyes brightened. “I can do that without breaking the rules, I’m sure. But the doctor said—”

  “I need to see to a few things upstairs this morning. Please consider it, Jenny?” Ellis said, thinking of how she would sneak out if Jenny refused.

  “You wouldn’t unpack your trunk without me?” Jenny smiled.

  “Oh, of course you can help me unpack, if you wish. I just need to tidy things up a bit.” Ellis watched as Jenny patted the pocket in her dress and knew where the envelope was.

  Jenny seemed to sense what Ellis was saying. “Oh, the room wasn’t quite right, was it? I am sorry. I should have given it more thought. I must learn to do these things for myself. I’ll come tidy up your room, I promise, but first, let’s go look at your dresses! I’m just bursting to see what you brought.”

  “Then we can talk while we unpack,” Ellis said, wondering how she would get that envelope out of Jenny’s pocket.

  * * *


  The girls opened the enormous wardrobe trunk and its contents spilled out like treasure across the carpet in Ellis’s room.

  “Look at this shoe!” Jenny scooped up a low-heeled bronze satin pump that had a buckle set with amber glass stones.

  Ellis’s hands caressed the fine silk, georgette, crepe and jersey gowns piled high within the trunk. Lacy camisoles, stockings and other underthings were neatly tied up in a brown paper parcel, as though they had never been worn before. Everything she could need for a prolonged stay had been provided. Ellis wondered for a moment whether she had packed the trunk herself. More likely someone else had packed it for her, and her brow furrowed at not knowing who that might be.

  As she unpacked and handed each piece to Jenny she felt disappointment in not recalling owning such lovely things. “I know this seems strange, but I really don’t feel like these are mine.”

  “Well, this is your trunk, isn’t it? I wish it was mine. So many pretty things, city things.” Jenny held up a deep blue silk drop-waist frock. “I think the city styles are wonderful. The skirts are slim and they are shorter. The turn of your ankle will definitely show when you’re wearing this.”

  “I like the things in the trunk; they just don’t seem like mine.” Ellis sighed. “I know it doesn’t really make sense, but somehow this is a deeper knowing than not remembering my life. I feel like I’ll remember everything in time, but these clothes seem … foreign.”

  Jenny, who was trying on pairs of gloves and shoes as quickly as she could change them, answered, “Foreign? What country are they from?”

  Ellis smiled as she shook her head slightly. This was not helping her get closer to the truth about herself.

  “Let’s just put this away and we can sort through it later to see which shoes go with which handbag and hat.” Ellis picked up the parcel of underthings and a magazine slid out from beneath it. Jenny snatched it up.

  “Fashions! Oh, look, Ellis, so many pictures of clothing. They remind me of your dresses. Skirts are so slim today and a bit shorter. I must seem so out-of-date to you. And look, so many of the young ladies have short hair like yours!”

  Ellis grabbed the magazine and flipped through the pages. It was true, not only did her clothing seem to be very much like those pictured here, but also her hair was cropped short with bouncy curls at the nape of her neck like most of the women posing in the illustrations. She let out a short laugh. “I was sad because I thought my hair had been cut short because of my illness. Now I find out I’m a fashion plate.” The girls’ eyes met over the top of the magazine and they giggled.

  “I’m chic!” Ellis said, exaggerating a demure model’s pose. A thought lit Ellis’s eyes. “Well, if we aren’t going to put this all away in an orderly fashion right now, I think the only thing to be done is to put on some of my new rags and go into town.”

  Jenny paused a moment and replied, “The doctor said not to go traipsing about until he’d examined you.”

  Ellis watched Jenny’s reaction and knew if she pushed her just a little she’d give in. She’d given Jenny a good reason to produce Alicia’s invitation. Ellis was desperate to explore and to try to find her forgotten life. “The doctor is an old lemon! Come on; we’re about the same size; you could pick out one of my new dresses to wear. Let’s go have some fun.”

  “You really are feeling better this morning.” Jenny began fingering the blue silk dress. Ellis smiled knowing she’d won as Jenny continued, “You really must see Gamin again. Just think, you might remember something! And besides, I want to take you to the Nightbirds House. Here.” She withdrew the invitation from her pocket and waved it in the air. “Alicia has invited us into town to lunch. I just didn’t want to say anything if you weren’t up to it.”

  “What is the Nightbirds House?” Ellis asked, waves of relief pouring over her at the sight of the small piece of paper. Perhaps I am just an invalid and not a prisoner after all.

  “It’s where the local young people go. The full name is the Nightbirds Literary Society House. Don’t worry; no one will actually make you read anything if you don’t want to.” Jenny smiled.

  “What do they do there?”

  “We plan outings and play games. We encourage each other in our creative pursuits. We each have—” Jenny stopped speaking and just looked at Ellis, waiting.

  “What? Have what?” asked Ellis.

  “Just come and see, please?” Jenny pleaded.

  Ellis wondered how much of Jenny’s desire was to show her the town and how much was to show off Ellis’s new frocks. It didn’t matter.

  Ellis had tilted her head to one side while listening and allowed Jenny’s words to appear to persuade her. “Why shouldn’t I have a little outing … especially if it brings to mind anything about my life?”

  “Yes. Let’s go. We’ll both pick something out to wear. I want to wear the blue jumper with the embroidered medallions!”

  Ellis sighed inwardly. It was the one she would have selected. She smiled her agreement and picked out a rust-colored mid-calf-length silk with a deep V in front that was inset by a lacy cream chemisette and had a sailor collar of chocolate brown velvet that ended in tassels at each corner. The close-fitting underskirt matched the collar. It was topped off with a poke bonnet that contained a spray of satin roses.

  In the end, as the girls fussed with each other’s buttons and hair, it was discovered that the blue frock was meant to be worn with an elegantly embroidered and crocheted Castle Cap that Ellis said looked like a sophisticated “Dutch girl’s” hat. It became rapidly apparent that the cap would not fit over Jenny’s hair piled high on her head. Laughing, Jenny surrendered the blue dress and gladly wore the rust-colored one Ellis had chosen.

  Ellis checked her reflection in the glass of the stilled grandfather clock as they went out the door. She saw a smiling girl, ready to meet a new world.

  She wondered who that girl was in the reflection.

  7

  GAMIN

  The town of Gamin could be seen just across the waters of the bay from the back porch of Summersend. From that vantage point and from that place Gamin looked to be less than a mile away to the southwest. However, the road wound its way north and west back up the spine of Pearson Point for nearly a mile before it came to High Street. Only then could Ellis and Jenny turn southward again toward town. This more than doubled the distance to Gamin, but the morning sun warmed Ellis’s back as she and Jenny walked together along the road banked with autumn colors. Ellis enjoyed the easy amiability of Jenny’s sometimes peculiar chatter.

  “You’ll love our literary society.” The gait of Jenny’s step struck Ellis as somewhat pained, although Jenny herself did not seem to notice it. “We were so lucky that it didn’t burn down.”

  “Burn down?” Ellis asked.

  “Oh yes.” Jenny had the peculiar habit of revealing the most alarming information at the strangest of times. “The fire happened about a week ago … or was it two? It was quite devastating to many of the buildings in town, although gratefully not our literary-society building or any of the really fashionable shops. Dr. Carmichael thinks it was an oil lamp that started it. It’s not on Main Street, you know, but just off Main. Quite exciting, really … the most exciting thing to happen around here until you came. The church burned down completely.”

  “How dreadful!” Ellis said intently. “Was anyone hurt in the fire?”

  “Not that anyone knows of.” Jenny shrugged, then with a secretive smile leaned closer to Ellis as they walked. “Although I did hear someone was missing.”

  Ellis felt a little faint. “Then someone was lost in the fire?”

  “No. No, I’m sure they’ll turn up eventually.” Ellis waved her crippled hand dismissively. “People always do, don’t they? I mean look, you’re here, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t follow you, Jenny.”

  “Call me Jen. It’s what you used to call me.”

  “And what did you call me?”

  “E
llie, sometimes.”

  “Now, what does my being here have to do with people turning up?”

  “It just seems like forever since I’ve seen you is all, and here you are.”

  “So who is it that has been missing since the fire? Where have they been?”

  Jenny glanced at Ellis from under her eyelashes, and even before she formed a response Ellis somehow knew it would not be a whole answer. “He couldn’t have been in the fire. I mean he had no reason to be in a building on Main Street, really.”

  “Who?”

  “He’s just one of us … one of the Nightbirds.”

  “That’s such an odd name.” Ellis sighed. “I wonder if I’ll ever get used to it.”

  “Our literary society?” Jenny laughed. “Back when you were here before you used to—oh, sorry. It’s all rather scandalous, actually. Sometimes we break rules and challenge society and are a bit mischievous. Still, being in the burning buildings would not have been part of the game that night, so I’m sure Ely wasn’t there.”

  “Is he just out of town, perhaps?”

  “I don’t know, really. I’m just sure he’ll be back, though.” Jenny abruptly changed the conversation. “I’m getting it cut, you know.”

  Ellis looked at Jenny’s face. She looked a bit anxious. Ellis supposed that Jenny felt somehow she was breaking the doctor’s rules by discussing the missing person. Maybe it was someone Ellis had known quite well.

  “What’s his name?” Ellis was not quite ready to release the previous subject.

  “It’s Ely—Elias,” Jenny said. She bit her lip before continuing, “It’d be best not mention this to the others.”

  Ellis smiled. She instinctively knew that the boundaries between her and Jenny were far softer than Jenny was willing to admit.

  Ellis found that she liked the young woman strolling next to her and for Jenny’s sake silenced, for now, all the questions on a continually growing list of things she didn’t know about herself. She was treading blindly through a thick intellectual fog, stumbling over the pebbles of things that felt right, but without true recall. If she could find one familiar thing, perhaps it would all come back and she’d be able to enjoy this little visit and then go home.