Read Online The Illusion of Murder by Carol McCleary - Free Book Online
Authors: Carol McCleary
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spiritualist advised her that as long as she kept adding rooms to the house, the ghosts of the Winchester dead would not attack her. *
I first saw the woman come up the gangplank after I boarded at Brindisi, Italy. It wasn’t her widow’s black garments and net veil that were memorable, but the coffin being carried by porters behind her.
Both woman and coffin disappeared into a first-class stateroom and neither has been seen since—except for the fleeting glimpses of her that I’ve had at night.
Her first name, widow’s clothes, and reclusive habit all add up to the Winchester woman, but it’s the coffin that clinches my conclusion that it is indeed the eccentric woman. While I’ve never heard of Mrs. Winchester bringing a coffin along during her travels, such an oddity would fit the public image of the woman—and provide me with a new slant on her eccentricities for a story.
Is it the body of her young daughter in the coffin? Or her husband?
The thought of sleeping with the dead in a stateroom gives me goose bumps … a goose walking over my grave, as my mother would say.
I make sure my door is securely locked before I put on my nightgown. I’m about to undress when there is a knock on my door.
Certain it is Lord Warton coming to accuse me of searching Cleveland’s room, I open the door and find Von Reich instead.
“I thought I should check on you and make sure you’re well.”
I lean against the door frame and rub my forehead. “My head has split in two and I’ve lost one of the halves.”
“After what you’ve been through, it’s amazing you have any head left. Tomorrow the Wartons and I are taking another day excursion—”
I shake my head no and even that hurts. “I am going to stay aboard and rest.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. We are going to feast with a sheikh in the desert that will be like nothing you have ever imagined, then we are visiting the ruins of ancient Tanis, the city that once was the capital of Egypt. But since you—”
“I’m coming!”
He grins. “We leave before the dawn. To avoid the sun. And trouble.” He starts to leave and turns back to me. “It’s rather like the Biblical Revelation, isn’t it?”
“The feast?”
“No, no, the story of the Mahdi. The Muslim holy book says he’ll return to Earth amidst a reign of war and destruction much like the Bible says the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse will create.”
He looks at me for a long moment. “I told you that you must expect the unexpected in Egypt. It’s an ancient land, one still haunted by thousands of years of intrigues, wars, and hexes.”
“What’s the surprise for tomorrow?” I ask.
He raises his eyebrows. “A miracle, dear lady; you shall stand witness to a true miracle.”
Von Reich leaves and I carry his words to bed with me.
Holy war, apocalyptic horsemen of war and death, the intrigues of modern nations and ruins of an ancient one—all mysterious and exotic, and nothing that I expected when I made the impulsive decision to race around the world.
Now I’m to witness a miracle.
I could use one at the moment. So could Mr. Cleveland.
I feel bad that I had mentally ridiculed him for acting so secretive. He had his reasons, though whatever intrigue he was involved in, he hadn’t played it well, not at least good enough to keep from getting himself killed.
The invitation from Von Reich sounded to me as innocent as a pickpocket with his hand in my purse. With the Mahdi on the warpath, I have to wonder if the miracle won’t be that we get back to the ship with our heads still on our shoulders.
I would have passed on the invitation, but it’s just too convenient that we all ended up in the marketplace as murder was coming down. I have to find out if it was a coincidence or something else.
Exhausted from the day, I sit down to take off my shoes. Right after removing one shoe, I stop. A movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention and I look up.
Something —a
I first saw the woman come up the gangplank after I boarded at Brindisi, Italy. It wasn’t her widow’s black garments and net veil that were memorable, but the coffin being carried by porters behind her.
Both woman and coffin disappeared into a first-class stateroom and neither has been seen since—except for the fleeting glimpses of her that I’ve had at night.
Her first name, widow’s clothes, and reclusive habit all add up to the Winchester woman, but it’s the coffin that clinches my conclusion that it is indeed the eccentric woman. While I’ve never heard of Mrs. Winchester bringing a coffin along during her travels, such an oddity would fit the public image of the woman—and provide me with a new slant on her eccentricities for a story.
Is it the body of her young daughter in the coffin? Or her husband?
The thought of sleeping with the dead in a stateroom gives me goose bumps … a goose walking over my grave, as my mother would say.
I make sure my door is securely locked before I put on my nightgown. I’m about to undress when there is a knock on my door.
Certain it is Lord Warton coming to accuse me of searching Cleveland’s room, I open the door and find Von Reich instead.
“I thought I should check on you and make sure you’re well.”
I lean against the door frame and rub my forehead. “My head has split in two and I’ve lost one of the halves.”
“After what you’ve been through, it’s amazing you have any head left. Tomorrow the Wartons and I are taking another day excursion—”
I shake my head no and even that hurts. “I am going to stay aboard and rest.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. We are going to feast with a sheikh in the desert that will be like nothing you have ever imagined, then we are visiting the ruins of ancient Tanis, the city that once was the capital of Egypt. But since you—”
“I’m coming!”
He grins. “We leave before the dawn. To avoid the sun. And trouble.” He starts to leave and turns back to me. “It’s rather like the Biblical Revelation, isn’t it?”
“The feast?”
“No, no, the story of the Mahdi. The Muslim holy book says he’ll return to Earth amidst a reign of war and destruction much like the Bible says the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse will create.”
He looks at me for a long moment. “I told you that you must expect the unexpected in Egypt. It’s an ancient land, one still haunted by thousands of years of intrigues, wars, and hexes.”
“What’s the surprise for tomorrow?” I ask.
He raises his eyebrows. “A miracle, dear lady; you shall stand witness to a true miracle.”
Von Reich leaves and I carry his words to bed with me.
Holy war, apocalyptic horsemen of war and death, the intrigues of modern nations and ruins of an ancient one—all mysterious and exotic, and nothing that I expected when I made the impulsive decision to race around the world.
Now I’m to witness a miracle.
I could use one at the moment. So could Mr. Cleveland.
I feel bad that I had mentally ridiculed him for acting so secretive. He had his reasons, though whatever intrigue he was involved in, he hadn’t played it well, not at least good enough to keep from getting himself killed.
The invitation from Von Reich sounded to me as innocent as a pickpocket with his hand in my purse. With the Mahdi on the warpath, I have to wonder if the miracle won’t be that we get back to the ship with our heads still on our shoulders.
I would have passed on the invitation, but it’s just too convenient that we all ended up in the marketplace as murder was coming down. I have to find out if it was a coincidence or something else.
Exhausted from the day, I sit down to take off my shoes. Right after removing one shoe, I stop. A movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention and I look up.
Something —a
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