Chapter Seventeen

Luke sat in the library at Vicky Inn, a book on his lap.

One he had read so he could pretend he was reading and answer questions about his enjoyment of the novel, should he be asked.

Vicky Inn.

Built in 1842, the house offered a beautiful facade, a sweeping porch, handsome columns, a third-floor attic and, Luke was certain, a deep basement.

The man calling himself Harry Green here had returned to the pub and offered him a ride when he’d heard Luke had lent his car to his new lady friend so that she could stop quickly for something special for her hair she’d read could only be purchased at one nearby shop.

“But—you just met her,” Harry had said, frowning.

“Oh, I am certain she’s coming back for me. I warned her. Told her I kept a GPS on my car. Of course, she laughed, saying she has not the least intention of stealing anything. I saw her wallet—she has plenty. In fact, of course, I’m intrigued to find out just what she does have in this worldly world. She’ll come back. I know my women, Harry. I’ll just give her a call and tell her she can go straight to the inn if she wishes.”

“But you didn’t go with her?”

And Luke had laughed. “I was still enjoying a good whiskey. I hear that it’s the one main export in all the British Isles. Is that true?”

“I must admit, I know little other than the fact that I enjoy a good whiskey,” Harry had told him. “But come on, then. I’ll give you a ride. If you want to give her a call—”

“Will do. Um, wait! You just came back here. Didn’t you leave and say—”

“Screwed up. My appointment is tomorrow. I was going to have another drink, but if you’re ready?”

“Whenever you are, my friend. But you’re welcome to have your drink.”

Harry Green had appeared amused. “They have good whiskey at the inn. But this lady...Carly. You already got her number?”

“Of course I did. I work fast. And...I’m anxious.”

“Tell her not to mention where she’s going—someone may get in first, and while my friends know you’re coming and believe she is, I wouldn’t want them giving away their last room.”

He feigned a call to Carly. He knew at that moment, she wouldn’t be back that soon, but he told her to take her time—as long as she did return his car. “Oh, and I’ll wait for you. There must be a place downstairs somewhere with chairs—”

“Fantastic library,” Harry assured him.

“The library,” he said to his phone.

He did need to speak with Carly again. But he also felt he didn’t want her phone ringing if she was in a position where she was hoping to be quiet.

He would give her time. She would call him.

Of course, he learned exactly what had happened. Thankfully, he was checked in when he did hear from her and had a moment alone when he brought his bags to the second floor—and to his room. Room six. At the end of the hallway upstairs. Rooms one, two and three were next to each other on the one side of the hallway and rooms four, five and six were on the other.

Terry Allen was behind the counter that sat at the rear of the beautifully appointed main parlor of the house, smiling broadly when she gave him his room.

“And we have your new friend right next to you. Room six.”

When he came downstairs after speaking with Carly and searching the room, Harry was gone.

He wondered where the man was.

And he wondered what he was doing; they were going to need to move fast. Jim Allen was also nowhere to be seen, and Luke couldn’t help but wonder if they weren’t in a “vault” somewhere on the grounds, doing unspeakable things.

He knew Carly was not going to be happy that she’d killed a man—or that Kaye Bolden, the woman who might have given them something, was dead. Go figure. Granny had apparently been in on it.

Then again...

Someone in the Society, the dead man, was tasked with stopping Liz. Someone was supposed to then go to retrieve her. Interesting. They’d have planned on taking back a screaming, protesting woman...

No, they’d have knocked her out with something.

Still, they’d have been tasked with getting her in somewhere. He looked up. Carly had arrived. She didn’t see him across the parlor where he sat and she walked up to the desk where Terry Allen was busy at her computer. She turned quickly, though, a big smile on her face, as she heard Carly’s arrival.

“Hey! You’re back. I hear you went to a special store?”

“Oh, not a special store. I was a bit across town. They’re known to carry American brands, and as rude as it sounds, I use certain products and...”

Terry laughed. “Not to worry—I understand. Anyway, the young man whose car you took is in the library, but I’m assuming you want to get rid of that bag. You’re in number five—we only let six rooms here, so it’s easy to find. Second floor up the stairs.”

“Oh, thank you!” Carly said, accepting her key. She frowned, pointing behind Terry and the desk. “Isn’t that an elevator?”

“It was, or rather, it is—we just don’t allow guests in it right now. Too many mechanical problems, and we can’t get the elevator man out here until next week.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t have a problem with stairs, do you?” Terry asked worriedly.

“No, no, not at all. Good for our cardio, right?” Carly returned cheerfully. “So, I will just walk up and dump this. And the library?” she asked politely.

“Right there!” Terry Allen smiled and pointed.

Luke, his book in front of him, waved. “Come on down! The materials here are great. You like reading, right?”

“Of course! I love books,” she said. “Back in a jiffy!”

With a smile, she headed for the stairs. As she did, Luke saw their spirit friend from the pub was there, too; he watched Carly head for the stairs, turned to nod at Luke and hurried after her.

They both turned to the hallway of rooms at the top of the stairs. Terry Allen left her desk behind and walked over to Luke.

She was smiling as if they shared a great secret.

“You do move fast.”

He gave her a smile and a nod. “I believe she’s a tech heiress.”

“Or—a liar?”

He shook his head. “Not the way she was speaking. She grew up in various places because of her father’s job—Silicon Valley, some time in China, some in Hong Kong... Sounds like the real thing. Her suit is high-quality—clothing seems stylish...and she didn’t introduce herself as rich. She did tell me she didn’t care what a hotel cost as long as it gave her a real feel for a place.”

“Well, keep finding out all that you can!” Terry told him.

She glanced at her watch. “Hmm,” she murmured.

“Is anything wrong?” he asked her.

“No, I, uh, just expected Jim back. He and Harry are usually here at around this time. We serve cocktails and snacks about now.”

“Ah, man, nice!” Luke said.

He thought he might know where Harry Green and Jim Allen were. They had probably headed out to relieve their accomplice and Mrs. Kaye Bolden of their captive. But they should be back soon. They would have arrived at the area where Liz’s car tire had gone flat.

They would have seen the police cars.

And they would have hightailed it back, wondering if either or both of their accomplices had been killed, or worse.

If they had talked.

Carly came back down the stairs while Terry Allen was still standing by him.

“This place is beautiful!” Carly raved.

“Well, thank you,” Terry Allen told her, smiling.

But the woman still looked concerned. She was smiling away, but...

She’d known that the two men had gone to retrieve a victim.

“Oh, excuse me!” Terry added. “The phone is ringing.”

“Of course. But we can help you if you need to serve something—or we can wait! We were just at the pub,” Luke told her.

“No, no, no, I’m, uh, sure that everything is fine and that’s a call to tell me they’re almost here!” she said, hurrying away.

When she was gone, Carly smiled at Luke. “Think she’s getting some strange news?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. Though they can’t know everything that happened. But they may be on edge, wondering if someone isn’t talking to law enforcement, trying to make a deal. Where’s our new friend from the pub? He followed you upstairs.”

“He’s going where we can’t go,” Carly said softly. “Heading up to the attic and going through the second floor. Is anyone else staying here now?”

“I haven’t seen anyone else,” Luke told her.

“He was wonderful, by the way,” Carly said. “I don’t know how much you know about what happened on the way out—”

“I talked to Campbell after I talked to you. He said he’s sending us one of his people to join in on the splendor of the stay.”

They were supposed to be playing a flirtatious couple; he dared to pull her close to him, rising, taking her face between his hands and kissing her lightly before whispering, “I’m grateful. So grateful you and Liz are okay.”

“Luke, I didn’t kill Kaye Bolden. If she hadn’t died—”

“No, you didn’t kill Kaye. A killer killed her. And you saved Liz. So far, so good.”

“But if we had one of them—”

“Liz could be dead, and I don’t think I could have lived with that. And I sure as hell couldn’t have lived with it if that killer had killed you.”

She smiled. They were so close. Whispering. But Terry Allen was headed back toward them.

“Thank you for being such good and patient guests,” she said. She was doing the smiling thing, but it was obvious that she was still disconcerted.

“Can we do anything?” Carly asked her.

“No, no, they’ll be here any minute. And we have whiskey and snacks in the kitchen, and in an hour or so, we’re having fresh salmon, my potatoes—delicious, if I do say so myself—and asparagus,” Terry told them.

“It sounds divine!” Carly said. “I know that breakfast often comes with a stay like this, but I never imagined dinner.”

“Oh, we do everything possible for and with our guests!” Terry exclaimed. “Excuse me again, though. I’ll head to the kitchen to get dinner going.”

“Of course,” Luke said. “Oh, okay...the library is right here, and...”

“Head to the left,” Terry said cheerfully. “Dining room, kitchen, pantry—all that on the one side of the house and you’re welcome there anytime.”

“Thanks!” Carly told her. “This really is such an amazing experience!”

Terry left them. Carly smiled and came close to Luke; there had been no attempt to hide the cameras in the parlor and reception desk. It might have been natural for any establishment to keep cameras over their business areas.

“Luke, if they’re worried about seeing the cop cars and wondering if their people talked, they’ll hurry up to get rid of anything.”

He smoothed her hair back, smiling, as if the two of them had really made an instant connection.

“I am aware, but...”

The door to the parlor opened and a young man entered. He had shaggy dark hair and wore an AC/DC T-shirt and carried a backpack.

“Hey! I read about this place in a tour book!” he told them. “Is there—”

“The owner is just in the kitchen,” Luke replied cheerfully. “And I have no idea if they have any rooms available tonight. But—”

Terry came hurrying out. She didn’t seem surprised to see that they’d been joined in the parlor by another guest.

“Hello, Mr. Murray?”

“Yes! How—”

“A lovely lady—I believe your mom—called to make a reservation. Welcome. Come over here and I’ll get you signed in,” Terry said.

She was still off. Cheerfully off.

“Daniel Murray, yes, thanks, and I did tell my mom I wanted to come here,” he said. He looked over at Luke and Carly. “Hey!”

“We’re Carly and Luke,” Luke told him. “You’ll love your room.”

“Well, that’s it, then,” Terry murmured. “We only let six rooms and I am in the process of renovating one of them. There will just be the five of you. We have Mrs. Bolden—lovely elderly lady, you’ll truly enjoy her—Carly, Luke, a gentleman named Harry Green and you, Daniel. So, give me about thirty minutes. I’ve decided on a true dinner tonight, but give me that bit of time and head on into the kitchen for the evening meal—I am an excellent cook, if I do say so myself.”

“Wow! And I’d been wondering where to head out for dinner,” Daniel said.

Campbell had told Luke that the undercover he was sending was young but experienced, someone who could play the naive American to the hilt.

He turned to Carly and Luke and said, “Hey, just going to stow my gear. Mind if I join you two after?”

“Of course not,” Carly said.

With a wave, Daniel Murray started up the stairs. As he did so, Kenneth Menzies came down the stairs, passing by the newcomer.

Daniel Murray gave a little shiver.

He might not have seen Kenneth, but he’d felt him.

Terry gave them one of her nervous smiles and headed back into the kitchen.

The ghost continued over to Luke and Carly, shaking his head. “I found nothing, I fear. But,” he added with a frown, “four of the rooms still have bags in them.”

“So, there are people hidden here,” Carly murmured. She winced. “Living or dead. Somewhere.”

“And they’ll kill them quickly and hide whatever evidence,” Luke said. He looked at Carly as he spoke, but they knew his words were for their helpful ghost. “Below. There’s access to the basement of this place below. And God alone knows what tunnels any underground area might have. Kenneth, if you can check below...”

“I’ve not found access for the living as of yet. I shall try the kitchen. Most oft, in these new places, that’s where one can find—”

“No!” Carly said suddenly. “Kenneth, can you get down the elevator that is supposedly not working?”

“Aye, lass! Of course I can.”

“Thank you!” Carly told him.

Luke wasn’t sure why, but he stopped the ghost. “Kenneth, wait. Can you slip into the kitchen first? I don’t know why this woman wouldn’t want us all in there as she prepared things—except for the first so many minutes...”

“Poisoning the food, eh?” Kenneth asked.

“Possibly,” Luke said.

Kenneth headed after Terry. While he was gone, Daniel Murray came hurrying down the stairs. “There you are,” he announced, walking over to them. As he shook Luke’s hand, he bent and said softly, “I found tubes in my room. Gas tubes, I believe. Well concealed in the closet behind a lockbox.”

Luke didn’t have a chance to answer; the door opened and Harry Green entered along with Jim Allen.

“Hello, there!” Jim said, looking over at the three of them. “How are you enjoying our humble—but charming—establishment? And you, young man—”

“Daniel Murray, sir, of Cincinnati, Ohio!” Daniel told him.

“Welcome. I’m Jim, and this is Harry Green.”

“I’m a fixture,” Harry said dryly, grinning at the newcomer. “Now, I understand that we’re about to have a lovely dinner.”

Terry came hurrying out of the kitchen. She was doing her best to play the role of happy innkeeper, but her nervousness was almost palpable to Luke.

“You’re back! Good! I may be needing a bit of assistance,” Terry said. “In the kitchen.”

“Of course,” Jim said. “You will all excuse us?” He looked at his wife pointedly. “Mrs. Bolden is still sleeping?”

“Oh, aye! She asked not to be disturbed tonight,” Terry said. “That’s what she told me, anyway.”

“Then we will certainly leave her be,” Jim said. “So—”

They all offered their guests quick smiles and disappeared toward the dining room. As they did so, Kenneth returned.

Disturbed. He walked right through Harry Green but the man didn’t seem to notice.

“There’s something,” Kenneth told them. “Not in the food—in the whiskey. Don’t be drinkin’ the whiskey!”

Luke wasn’t sure how to answer him with Daniel Murray seated by them. But to his surprise, the man said softly, “This place is...”

He stopped speaking. Luke and Carly both looked at him expectantly.

“Never mind,” he murmured.

“Haunted?” Carly suggested.

The man hesitated again, looking downward. “It’s a murder castle, so of course it has a feel. But...”

To Luke’s surprise, he stared at Carly and murmured, “I can’t see as my grandmother did, but I have a sense that...”

“There is someone here?” she murmured.

Luke had to wonder at first if Daniel Murray had been sent not just to assist, but to test them as well. But when the man looked at him, he was suddenly certain he wasn’t lying. “Yes, we have it. And, yes, a friend is with us.”

“Then he can help us!” Daniel said.

“He is helping us. Somehow, we need to get through dinner without drinking the whiskey,” Carly said.

“Poisoned?” Daniel guessed.

“Possibly. Or laced to make us pass out,” Luke said. He looked at Kenneth.

“I just saw the wee container by the whiskey bottle. Three glasses were already poured—others waited empty to be filled when you went in.”

“So, we need to pretend to drink whiskey and get to our rooms as quickly as possible. But whatever is going on must be down below and we need to find access,” Daniel said.

“Our friend Kenneth will find us a way. We’ll have dinner, pretend to drink whiskey and head to our rooms,” Luke said.

“But what if they think we should drop dead immediately?” Daniel asked.

Luke glanced at the ghost of Kenneth Menzies for a moment. Daniel had a good point.

“I’ll be moving faster than air,” Kenneth promised.

“Normally, I’d say no, it is going to be something to make us pass out so that we’re pliable to be brought down to their torture chamber, wherever it may be. But tonight, they may be desperate. They all know by now that the police found Liz—what they don’t know is what might have happened to Kaye Bolden and her accomplice. But they must be worried and maybe even expecting the police here at any minute.”

“Maybe we should just arrest the three of them now,” Daniel muttered.

“We can’t prove anything yet,” Carly reminded him.

“We could just shoot the three of them,” Daniel ventured bitterly. He shook his head. “Not really from Cincinnati, you know, though I do pride myself on an excellent American accent. What this is doing to my country is—”

“The world, Daniel. The world.” Luke shook his head. “And we need to make sure that Harry Green is the H. H. Holmes Society leader and that it ends forever. If the police were to come now, he could find a way to put it all on the people he’s so easily used because they’re sick themselves—Jim and Terry Allen.”

“Can that be real?” Daniel asked. “A husband-and-wife torture team?”

“Suzan and James Carson, Fred and Rose West, there’s the whole Karla Homolka and Paul Bernardo set of killings—including her sister—and many more, I’m afraid,” Luke told him.

“And I was in horror of the bloody deaths I witnessed in battle!” Kenneth murmured.

Luke nodded, worried for a brief second that he should stop now, they didn’t really know Daniel Murray, but at this point, they needed to trust the man. “Daniel, the spirit you’re feeling is that of Kenneth Menzies. He was killed during the Battle of Stirling Bridge.”

Daniel nodded. “Thank you, Kenneth,” he said softly. “So, now—”

“I will get below,” Kenneth said.

Luke watched him start to walk away. But he turned back.

“There are chutes,” he said. “For soiled clothing, one imagines. Two in the hallway. A man would fit in one, a lass, too,” he added. “I will see how they fall.”

“Perfect, Kenneth.”

“I hadnae thought to take one down as yet,” Kenneth said. “There are stairs from the kitchen, hidden by a cupboard wall, slides easily, I do believe, but I don’t be knowin’ fer sure. Now...I will try the elevator.”

“Thank you!” Carly said.

Kenneth nodded and headed behind the desk, disappearing from their view. Possibly having made his way through the elevator floor.

Daniel was watching Carly.

“What is it?” Carly asked him.

“I was just wondering if a dead man could save us if this all goes to hell,” he said. “But so help me, we must stop them!”

“We will,” Luke said firmly.

And he sure as hell hoped that his certainty was real.

Harry Green suddenly returned, smiling. “Luke, my boy. Come on in here, will you? I’d have a word or two before dinner.”

Luke gave Harry Green his most serious nod. “Excuse me,” he told the others. “My friend—he helped Carly and me decide where we should stay tonight.”

“Nice,” Daniel said, and Luke knew the man had been filled in on the entire sting, but to Harry Green, Daniel was a prospective accomplice.

Maybe he could drink the whiskey, he thought dryly.

At the least, in the kitchen, he might discover the easiest way to discard their shots of the stuff without being noted.

They could always play the magician’s trick, change glasses.

And yet they couldn’t be seen.

One way or the other, he feared, the killers were going to feel that they needed to up their game.

How?

With the whiskey?

Pity. He’d always enjoyed a good Scot’s whiskey before. Ah, well. Onward. Maybe they were going to let him in on just about everything.

After all, they were mysteriously down a few accomplices.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Daniel asked Carly.

“Um, many things are...?”

He smiled at her. “Your ability.” He shook his head. “I saw it, so, on the one hand, it was wonderful. Oh, my granny! I know on the day that she died, she was greeted by many friends, and she left this world in peace. And I could feel,but I couldn’t see or speak with the ghosts she seemed to be such good friends with. They gave her peace when...”

He stopped speaking, wincing.

“I joined the National Crime Agency determined to stop terrible things. My father was stabbed to death in a robbery when I was thirteen.”

“I am so sorry!”

He smiled at her. “It’s all right and I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you for the sympathy. I am, I believe, just jealous. I’ve known to work for what I’ve wanted all my life, but this... One has it, or one doesn’t, and I fear—”

“It could develop,” Carly told him. “Our founder—our American founder, now Assistant Director Adam Harrison—didn’t have it, but his son did and he recognized it in others. At first, he just knew the right people to help others in certain situations. Then—because he’s also brilliant and an incredible philanthropist—he managed to put together a special unit of the FBI. Of course, we’re supposedly special because we deal with cases that involve the occult and cults, witchcraft, voodoo, anything that’s seen as out of the norm by others.”

“Aliens?” he asked, grinning.

She laughed. “No. I think there may be a different ‘special’ unit for that. But there came a time when Adam could see his son, Josh. He’d never had the ability before, but maybe his love was so great, or his commitment to the good in humanity so great, that he developed the ability.”

Daniel smiled at her. “Maybe. But as far as earthly help goes, Campbell himself will be standing by—five minutes away—if we give them a call to come in. But...”

“But?”

“Thank God for your ghost. I would have drunk the whiskey.”

Carly smiled. “Luke will know more.”

“They believe he’s a member of the H. H. Holmes Society,” Daniel said.

She nodded. “And that he just met me and he’s certain I’m very rich. The game played there is that he gains all my property. Although...with the real H. H. Holmes, that meant I would give him my property, and then he would give them the property and then...”

“Then he would die. So, why would they assume he didn’t know exactly how Holmes worked? The whole Pitezel situation... He was going to substitute a corpse for Pitezel, and they’d share the insurance money. But, of course, he killed the real Pitezel instead and then lied to the man’s wife, saying he was alive, that they’d manage everything and meet up. Then he took three of the children and killed them, the greatest horror, and then, thankfully, he was caught.”

“The Pinkertons were involved, hired by one of the insurance agencies. By the way, Allan Pinkerton was a Scot!”

“Ah! So, lass, thankfully, we’ve got the Scots involved in all of this.”

Carly smiled. “Exactly.”

“And I’m older than I look,” he told her. “Thirty-three.”

“You could easily pass for early twenties.”

“And sometimes I do. Campbell wanted someone who could appear to be young and dumb!” he said.

She laughed. “Young and naive.”

Daniel glanced at his watch. “It’s been a bit. How the hell are we going to pretend to drink the whiskey?”

“I think that’s going to be the least of our problems. Time is everything now, too. Kenneth has told us that the room Terry claimed was being renovated still had someone’s belongings in it. These people have taken their ‘guests’ down elsewhere and who knows how many other people.”

“And you think any might still be living?”

“I do. They like the torture game, from what we’ve experienced already. And Kenneth will find us a way down, though I am worried about how this will play out. They must know by now that their people aren’t coming back.”

“Thankfully, Luke is in with them.”

“But will they be honest with him—or intend to use him, as Holmes used Pitezel?”

“Well, they won’t be able to, will they? Because Luke knows what he needs to know, and if he’s a member of the Society, they must be aware that he knows what he knows, too. Hopefully, they’ll believe that he’s entirely one of their own.”

“Shh,” she warned suddenly.

Harry Green was coming back for them, smiling broadly.

“All right! The kitchen is set, whiskey is out, and we’re about to share a few wee drams and some excellent food.”

“Wonderful,” Daniel said. “Wow! I was expecting breakfast, but not dinner. Or supper. Or a meal at night, by any name.”

“And the whiskey is a-flowing,” Harry Green told them. “Let’s get this night moving.”