In the Shadow of Lakecrest(63)
“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.”
“I don’t believe it.” Matthew’s voice barely rose above a whisper. “Why wouldn’t she leave a note? Why would she leave us to wonder, all these years? Do you have any idea how I’ve agonized over Cecily’s death? My God, Mum—Kate even hired a private investigator to find out what happened because she was so worried about me!”
Hannah didn’t look the least surprised, and it came to me in a sudden blow: she already knew. But how? The only person who could have told her was Mr. Haveleck himself. Had he phoned her the minute I left his office, angling for a bigger payout? Or maybe they’d met before. For all I knew, he was on the payroll of Lemont Industries. My head began to throb, and a glaze of sweat coated my skin. I’d barely eaten all day. Marjorie was talking in a swift, brittle voice.
“I don’t believe it for a minute. You know how dramatic Aunt Cecily was. She wouldn’t hole up like a rat in a trap. She’d want her poor lifeless body on full display!”
Matthew looked shaken by his sister’s words. He turned to Hannah, eerily calm. “I saw Aunt Cecily’s body, didn’t I? You were there.”
Hannah shook her head, lips pursed in a frown.
“What?” Marjorie urged her brother. “What did you see?”
“I got up, in the night.” Matthew sounded dazed. “I heard a noise outside my door, and I saw Mum in the hall. I followed her to the Labyrinth. I heard shouting—horrible noises. I saw her standing by Cecily, and there was blood down her neck . . .”
“You saw nothing of the sort,” Hannah snapped. “You had a nightmare, and it’s gotten all mixed up in your mind.”
If Hannah was lying, she did so effortlessly. I could see Matthew wavering. What must it feel like to never fully trust your own memory?
“You told me it was a dream,” he said to Hannah. “But it wasn’t, was it? It really happened.”
“Matts!” Marjorie’s voice was shrill with panic. “You saw Mum kill Aunt Cecily?”
Matthew shook his head over and over, a flurry of denial. “I saw Aunt Cecily on the ground. Not moving.”