Marjorie walked up to him. “I need to make a telephone call, if that’s all right with you?”
The policeman nodded, wilting, as if he could barely muster the energy to stand. Matthew offered him a chair, which he took with a nod of thanks. Marjorie went off to the telephone in the front hall, and Matthew picked up a stack of papers he’d brought back with him from the office.
“Might as well do something to pass the time,” he said to me. “I’ll climb the walls otherwise.”
I couldn’t imagine he’d get much done; it was impossible to concentrate in that still, sticky air. I lay down on the couch, exhausted even though I’d done nothing all day. I thought longingly of the icy lake. I didn’t care how cold it was; as soon as this interrogation was over, I would walk into the water up to my knees—up to my shoulders!—because I didn’t know how much more I could take.
I must have drifted off, because I flinched with surprise when I heard my name. Disoriented, I sat up and looked around. I saw Matthew leaning over me as he shook my shoulder.
“Kate.”
I glanced around and was mortified to see a wet mark where I’d drooled on the collar of my dress. But no one was looking at me. All eyes were on Hannah, who was standing in the center of the room with her usual cool expression. Chief Powell, by contrast, looked as if he had just run a race: his face was flushed pink, and his collar and jacket were rumpled and damp.
“We’re done for today,” he said. “Mrs. Lemont, you said you had the phone number for Dr. McNally?”
Dr. McNally? I flashed a look at Matthew, and he shrugged, looking as mystified as I felt.
“Yes. Give me a minute, would you?”
Matthew and I led Chief Powell to the front hall. Marjorie whispered a few words into the phone and quickly hung up.
“Leaving so soon?” she asked brightly. Nobody smiled.
Matthew leaned in toward the police chief, speaking in a hushed voice. “Have you found out anything on the cause of death?”
Chief Powell shook his head curtly. “Sorry. No word on that yet.”
Hannah’s heels clattered across the marble floor. She handed the policeman a slip of paper and said, “I’m sure you’ll find the doctor’s observations useful. Please let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”
The police chief and his troop left with a quick round of good-byes, leaving the rest of us to stare at each other in uneasy, suspicious silence.
“It’s time we talked,” Hannah said. “About Cecily.”
I sat on the sofa, wedged in the corner, as if I could tuck myself out of sight. Matthew sank down at the other end, one arm outstretched along the back. A pose intended to look casual, but I could tell his body was taut with nerves. Marjorie lit a cigarette and paced. The joking flirtatiousness she’d put on for the policemen was gone, and she glared at her mother with icy distrust.
Hannah lowered herself into an armchair. Slowly, wearily, she took in Marjorie’s restlessness and Matthew’s apprehension. My purposefully blank expression.
“My dears, I am so sorry you were subjected to that awful interrogation. My only consolation is that we were able to endure it in private.”
“Mother!” Marjorie spat the word out like a curse. “What did you tell them?”
Hannah fixed her eyes on me, as if her daughter hadn’t spoken. “Kate, I don’t think I ever told you how I met my husband, Jasper. It was through my father. Cecily was one of his patients.”
I nodded in encouragement.
“She had a breakdown when she was eighteen. Tried to kill herself. Obadiah consulted all sorts of experts, but my father was the only one she confided in. He recognized her at once as a kindred spirit, someone who cared about the larger questions of life and the human mind. He was the one who encouraged the study of ancient languages, as part of her recovery. Once she was feeling better, he supported her wish to travel, to go to Oxford and expand her horizons. Sadly, it was all a bit much for poor Cecily. She failed her exam and came back to Lakecrest in disgrace. Perhaps the humiliation was what drove her to walk into the lake during a summer storm. Who knows what would have happened if one of the men tying down the yacht hadn’t seen her? My father began treating her here, at Lakecrest, and I came along as his assistant. Jasper was quite distraught over his sister’s condition, and I did what I could to ease his mind.”
“How noble,” Marjorie said dryly.
“What you must understand,” Hannah said, ignoring her daughter, “is that my father and I did our best, but there was no cure for Cecily’s melancholy. Her mind was too fragile for the demands of normal life. I suggested Chief Powell consult my father’s papers, which are kept in the archives of his clinic in Chicago. Those records make a very strong case that Cecily was unstable and a likely suicide.”
“Why?” Matthew demanded. “She had no reason!”
“She didn’t need a reason!” Hannah exclaimed. “I protected you and Marjorie from the full extent of her delusions. Don’t you think fancying yourself a Greek goddess is evidence of an unsound mind?”
An unsound mind. I couldn’t help thinking of Matthew. I kept my face turned away from him, afraid he’d sense my disloyal thoughts.
Hannah took a deep breath. “The night Cecily disappeared, she’d had a terrible fight with Jasper. He was concerned about Cecily’s influence on the children. Cecily made a scene, as usual, and Jasper said if she kept it up, he’d destroy everything she’d built. The Temple, the Labyrinth . . . all of it. And he would have, just to spite her.
“I don’t know what happened next.” Hannah’s voice shook. How strange to see her struggle for words. “I blame myself, still. Cecily ran out in tears, and I let her go. I did nothing to help. The next day, she was gone.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Marjorie said. “If Aunt Cecily killed herself, how could she be buried under the Labyrinth?”
“She wasn’t buried,” Hannah said simply. “The bones were found inside a wall.”
For once, Marjorie was speechless.
“Cecily once told me there were hidden compartments in the Labyrinth, but she was the only one who knew where they were,” Hannah said. “I believe she ended her life inside one of them so there’d be no witnesses to her final act.”