“No!” she said scornfully. “That it’s now obvious who killed Uncle Brian. She pushed her sister over the cliff, and then her grandfather, and now her caregiver…” She paused. “Poor little thing,” she added. “She’s obviously out of her mind. Uncle Brian left a large sum of money for one of us to take care of her, but now, after this, she’ll have to be locked away, won’t she? She’s clearly not safe.”
I looked around the group. Irene’s eyes were red as if she’d been crying, but other than her I could read the relief in their faces. It wasn’t one of them, it was a deranged person. Life could return to normal. I accepted a cup of tea from a maid.
“You’ve heard the shocking news about Brian’s granddaughter Kathleen, I suppose,” Joseph Hannan said as he noticed I had joined them. “What was he thinking to keep a dangerous lunatic here in the house, where she could have escaped and done harm to her brothers? We are just debating what should be done with her. She’s obviously not responsible for her actions but the police will want her locked away.”
“I was about to suggest that there was a very pleasant nursing home in my former parish in Cambridge,” Father Patrick said.
“I didn’t know you had a parish in Massachussets, Uncle Pat,” Terrence said.
“No, not Cambridge, Mass,” Father Patrick said. “A little town in the Hudson Valley. I was also once in Salem, New York—not a witch to be seen.” And he smiled.
I had taken a mouthful of tea but couldn’t swallow it. I forced it down, burning my throat. Now I remembered. On the night when Daniel was close to death and Father Patrick had chatted pleasantly to distract me from my worry, he had mentioned his little church in Granville.
Thirty-five
It was all I could do to sit there, my expression composed, sipping tea with them when every fiber in my being wanted to leap up and do something. I studied Father Patrick’s innocent serene face. Why had Brian Hannan written a list of the parishes in which he had served just when he was summoning Daniel and his family to the estate in Newport? It might be quite innocent, of course. He might have been talking with his brother and asked, “So how many parishes have you been in now?” and jotted down the list as Patrick dictated them. One does that to remember. But it was the only clue I had from Brian Hannan’s office.
I found my gaze going up to the tower. Could Kathleen really have pushed Mrs. McCreedy through an open trapdoor to her death? I had to conclude that it was possible. What if Mrs. McCreedy had taken away her favorite doll, or stopped her from doing something she wanted to, and the trapdoor was open? I had no idea why that would be, when there was obviously a proper staircase that led to the tower from the lower levels of the house. I stared at the ivy, wondering if I dared risk climbing up that way again, and if I made it undetected to the window, would I find the door guarded by a policeman?
I decided I couldn’t risk it and compromise my husband’s integrity. Prescott might jump to the conclusion that Daniel had sent me up there to snoop. Even as these thoughts passed through my head, I saw the front door open and Chief Prescott himself emerged from the house. He headed straight for us. “I’m afraid the girl is completely unresponsive,” he said. “She’s lying curled up under her bed and refuses to come out. I have left one of my men and the two young women who have experience with the language of twins with her, but I’m not sure…”
I rose to my feet. “Chief Prescott,” I said. “I happen to know a doctor in New York who is a specialist in diseases of the mind. He studied with Professor Freud in Vienna and might find a way to communicate with the girl. If you and the family agreed, I could send a telegram to New York, asking him to take a look at her.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Sullivan,” he said. “Unfortunately I think there is little anyone can do. In the eyes of the law she is a menace to society and will have to be locked away. We’ll try to make it as humane as possible, but as for reaching into that troubled brain … I just don’t think it is possible.”
“It would be kinder not to,” Eliza said. “One would not wish to bring her back to face the reality of what she had done.”
Chief Prescott came over to me. “I wondered if your husband might be feeling well enough for a visit today? Although I fear that the case may have solved itself in the meantime.”
“Yes, I think he might wish to hear everything that has transpired since his sickness,” I said.
“Then if you’d be good enough to accompany me,” he said. “I don’t want any unpleasantness with his mother, who seems to be guarding the door like a watchdog.”
“Of course,” I said. “Please excuse me.” I nodded to the company and left.