“What about Dimity?” I asked. I’d forgotten to tell Bill about Aunt Dimity’s most recent message, and I hadn’t had a chance to tell Nell. “Aunt Dimity thinks that Julia Louise must have done something truly wicked.”
“That could refer to any number of things.” Bill held his hand up in a pacifying gesture. “Don’t get me wrong. As I said, you’re the experts. But if you came to me with the evidence you have right now, I’d advise you to collect more. I wouldn’t feel comfortable bringing a case against Julia Louise based on the testimony of a madman and a ... a message from the Great Beyond.”
“We’ll find more evidence, then,” Nell said confidently.
“Seems to me Anthea’s combed the family papers pretty thoroughly,” Bill observed.
“She missed Sybella’s deed,” I pointed out. I drummed my fingers on the backseat and tried to imagine how Uncle Williston had gotten hold of Sybella Markham’s deed. “Maybe Williston found Sybella’s deed in a file Anthea doesn’t know about,” I said. “A three-hundred-year-old firm must have tons of paperwork stashed away in all sorts of nooks and crannies. I’ve done archival searches—something unexpected is always turning up.”
“Good point,” Bill said. “But even if Sybella’s deed is valid, it doesn’t explain why Father thinks her building belongs to us.” He gave a wry look that held more than a hint of self-recrimination. “Guess I should’ve paid attention to Father’s stories about family history. Nell, do you think Bertie would give me listening lessons? I seem to have lost the knack, but I’m eager to get it back.”
At that precise moment, the limo hit a bump, the briefcase fell to the floor, its locks snapped open, and the blue journal tumbled out. I gave Bill a sidelong look and bent to pick it up;
“Dimity?” I said, opening the journal. “Do you want to have a word with Bill, by any chance?”
Good morning, my dear. Yes, I most certainly do. A brief refresher course on the relative importance of work andfamily might prove useful, don’t you think? Especially now, when he’s in a receptive frame of mind.
“She wants to talk to you,” I said, handing the journal over to Bill. “Brace yourself.”
Bill tilted the journal to one side so that he alone could read Aunt Dimity’s words. A martyred expression slowly settled over his face, and when it became apparent that his refresher course would last more than a few minutes, I reached for the telephone and dialed Emma’s number.
“Hmmm?” Emma said, sounding drowsy. “Oh, it’s you. Sorry. Caught me napping in the hammock. It’s these late nights, plus the sun shining through the beech leaves, plus a conspicuous absence of deliverymen. Peggy Kitchen reports that the vacant house is filling up, though. Desks, cabinets. I think she said something about an aspidistra.”
“Bill will be thrilled to hear that,” I told her. “He’s with me right now, in the limo.” I clutched the telephone in alarm as I heard an un-Emma-like squeal, followed closely by a dull thud. “Emma? Are you okay?”
“Hello?” Emma’s voice was in my ear again, sounding fully awake. “Fell out of the hammock. Ouch. I think I bruised my knee.” She was interrupted by a snuffling sound I failed to identify until she said, “Thank you, Ham, I’m fine. No more kisses now, boy. Sit! Lori? Did I hear you right? Did you say that Bill’s with you? How on earth—”
“I’ll explain in a minute,” I said. “First off, have you found out anything about Sybella Markham?”
“Nothing,” Emma said apologetically. “I’ve searched backwards and forwards, but I haven’t found a thing about an orphan girl named Sybella Markham. I plan to hit the Mormon genealogical vaults tonight. Until then ...”
“Would you hold on for a minute?” I asked, and conveyed the discouraging news to Nell.
Nell was undaunted. “Tell Mama to look for Sybella in Bath,” she said.
“In Bath?” Emma said, when I’d relayed Nell’s request. “I was looking for her in London. Okay, I’ll see what I can find....”
“Don’t sweat it,” I said. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how’s Derek’s roof coming along?”
Emma chuckled. “One of his crew dropped a hammer through the windshield of the local chief constable’s car yesterday,” she said. “The chief constable was livid, but since his car was parked illegally, he couldn’t make much of a fuss. It helps to have the bishop on our side, of course. Now, tell me about Bill before I burst. Better yet, put Bill on, so I can hear it from the horse’s mouth.”
“I can‘t,” I said. “He’s, um, in conference with Dimity. She wasn’t too happy about him missing his second honeymoon, so she’s ...”