The Mermaid in the Basement Read online

  An alarm touched Serafina’s nerves, and she felt Dylan’s elbow touch her slightly—a warning for her to conceal her surprise. The thought came to her that Ashley was terribly immature, a thirty-year-old teenager. And his hatred for Kate was reflected in his eyes.

  Now that the subject of Kate Fairfield’s death had been opened, they all began to talk. Claude Douglas said, “The police were here. Some inspector called Grant, Viscountess. He questioned us all as if we were suspects.”

  “I thought that was ridiculous,” Irene said stiffly. “I don’t want to be at all disrespectful, but all the evidence points to your brother, Viscountess.”

  Ives Montgomery, who played Horatio, was lolling back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his lean face. “That fellow Grant is a tough one. He pinned me down like a bug, wanted to know where I was after the performance the night that Kate was killed. If he didn’t suspect me, I’d be surprised.”

  “Did you have a good alibi, Ives?” Dylan inquired with a smile.

  “Not a bit of it. No more did you, I take it.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Did Grant question you, Mr. Tremayne?”

  “Very closely indeed.”

  “He questioned all of us,”Claude snapped. “I think we’re all suspects.”

  “Why is that, Mr. Douglas?” Serafina asked quietly.

  Claude was almost as drunk as Ashley and glared at her as if she were not sound. “We all despised the woman, that’s why.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “Why, Irene? You hated her as much as the rest of us. You’d watched your husband chasing around after her like a dog with his tongue hanging out.”

  “Shut your mouth, Douglas!”Malcom Gilcrist shouted. He half rose as if to attack Claude, but his wife pulled him back into his chair.Her face was fixed in a furious expression, and she whispered forcefully, “Don’t be any more of a fool than you can help!”

  Angry words began to fly across the table, and each one seemed to be insulted that Grant had pressured them about their movements on the night of the murder.

  Ashley obviously despised Malcom and his wife, Irene. “You had a motive for killing her, Irene. Your husband was in love with her. Where were you on the night she was killed?”

  “Shut your foul mouth, Hamilton!” Malcom said. “You hated Kate more than all of us.”

  “No.”Ashley shook his head, and a sadness came to his eyes.“No,” he whispered, “I loved her.”

  The dinner, from that point on, was a disaster. They all changed the subject quickly, and Serafina felt stares of dislike. Finally, when the party broke up, Malcom came and said, “I apologise, Viscountess.We’re like a family, don’t you see? We have our spats, but afterwards we make it up. I’m sure you understand.”

  A deep sadness was reflected in the eyes of the man, and Serafina found herself pitying him greatly. “Of course. Don’t trouble yourself about me, sir.”

  “I’m—I’m sorry about your brother.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gilcrist.”

  As Malcom turned away,Dylan said quietly, “If you’re ready to go, I’ll take you to your carriage, Viscountess.”

  As Dylan walked with Serafina toward where Givins was waiting in the carriage, he asked, “What did you think of the cast?”

  “They’re not what I expected.”

  “They’re a pretty vindictive crowd. It’s a profession that breeds jealousy. Everyone wants to get to the top. But that’s the way of the world, yes?”

  “Why, you’re exactly right. I know women who would kill to get their daughters married to an earl.”

  “The one that I suspect more than any other wasn’t there tonight.”

  “Who was that, Dylan?”

  “Sir William Dowding. The producer, he is.”

  “Why do you suspect him?”

  “Difficult to say. It’s really more of a feeling. He is a powerful man, very possessive. He hates to be crossed, and he holds what’s his very tightly.”

  “And he was . . . in love with Katherine Fairfield?”

  Dylan turned to face her, and she was caught by the intensity of his light blue eyes. “If you are having my opinion, not love it was he had for her. It was all flesh—and love is more than that. Many who talk of love know nothing of the real thing. He was having an affair with Kate, and that’s not love. And a selfish, grabbing man he is too! If he found out that Kate was seeing another man, he could be very violent. I’ve seen it in him—anger jumping out like a snake striking. I suppose most powerful men are like that.”

  They reached the carriage, and Dylan opened the door. He handed her in. She leaned out and said, “I need to think about this, Dylan, but we need to talk. Can you come and see me tomorrow?”

  “Yes indeed—but it should be early. Am going to start looking for that missing witness, I.”

  “Come for breakfast, then. You can meet my family, and we’ll have time to talk.”

  “Your family—they may not like an actor coming for a meal.”

  She shook her head and seemed to be lost deep in thought. “I must tell you something, Dylan.”

  “Yes, what is it?”

  Her voice was very low, and he had to lean forward to catch her words. She didn’t face him but looked fixedly at the other side of the carriage. “I—I still don’t believe that God told you to help Clive . . . but I find I need your help. I don’t know how to function, and I know that there are things that you can do that I can’t.We can’t sneak around and hide that, Dylan. Come tomorrow. I’ll make my family understand.”

  “I’ll be there early, ay? May the good God go with you, Lady Serafina.”

  The carriage moved off, and Dylan watched as it went. He had seen a glimpse of a woman he did not know. There were two Serafina Trents. One was proud and rigid in her thinking, but he had seen another side of that same woman in her broken words—and he smiled at the thought that brushed against his mind.

  NINE

  Serafina stood before her dressing mirror brushing her hair. She knew that Louisa felt this was her job, but Serafina was not thinking of that. She had spent a restless night, troubled with very bad dreams, and her face was puffy from lack of sleep. She was thinking of how best to bring Dylan into her family’s sphere, and was not certain that it could be done smoothly. Actors were not suitable houseguests in the world of high society, and Serafina knew that bringing Dylan into the tightly knit union of her family would not be easy.

  With a quick movement, she put the brush down, turned, and left her bedroom. She moved quickly down the hall and descended the stairway—but as she reached the first floor, a loud female voice caused her to stop dead still.With a grimace she murmured, “Oh no! Not Aunt Bertha! Not now of all times!”

  But no one had such a strident voice as Lady Bertha Mulvane. Her voice was loud, demanding, and easily overwhelmed any other voice in the Western world. She was the older sister of Alberta Newton, and a widow.

  Her husband, Sir Hubert Mulvane, had been knighted for something rather unimpressive, but in Bertha’s eyes, the Sir before his name was the mark of royalty. Such a knighthood died with the man, so Bertha had no right whatsoever to the title Lady Mulvane, but this never troubled her. She was a selfish, overbearing woman of some sixty years who often invited herself for too-long visits with the Newtons.

  Serafina paused at the door of the dining room, dreading the task of being polite to her aunt. She entered as Lady Mulvane was stating in a voice like a trumpet, “. . . and so you must not give in to weakness, Sister! We must bear the shame of Clive’s disgrace with fortitude!”

  Bertha Mulvane was always ready to bear with fortitude any sort of pain—as long as it was someone else’s pain. When Serafina stepped into the room she saw that her mother was weeping silently, her face twisted with grief. Before Bertha could continue her exhortations, Serafina said loudly enough to drown her aunt’s sermon, “Why, Aunt Bertha, I didn’t know you were here.” She advanced and took the hug and peck on
the cheek that her aunt offered, but spoke quickly to head off any more jeremiads from her. “Here, come and sit down by me. I’ll fix you a nice plate.”

  Serafina steered Lady Bertha to a place as far away as possible from Alberta and practically shoved her into one of the heavy mahogany chairs. “I came as soon as I heard of the disgrace—” she began, but Serafina simply spoke even more loudly, “No disgrace, Aunt.We’re going to have the victory over this thing.” Serafina raised the level of her voice each time Bertha tried to speak, and after piling a plate high, she placed it before her aunt. “There, Aunt Bertha, porridge, bacon, eggs, toast, butter, and preserves. You always like Nessie’s breakfasts. Just start on that and there’s plenty more.”

  Bertha was a voracious eater and attacked the food at once. Even with her mouth full of eggs, she still tried to sound a note of gloom, but Serafina’s bright, cheeerful remarks simply overwhelmed her. Finally Serafina sat down by David and said, “We’re going to have company for breakfast.” Everyone looked at her with surprise, and Bertha said with indignation, “It must be a very thoughtless person—to intrude at such a time.”

  “Not at all, Aunt Bertha,” Serafina said, her voice strong and her face marked with a pleasant expression. “It’s a gentleman who’s going to be of great help to our situation.”

  Aunt Bertha’s double chin trembled with anger. “You shouldn’t have a stranger coming at a time like this. I’m surprised at you, Serafina!”

  “Who is our guest, dear?” Septimus asked. He had withered under Bertha’s demanding charges and was very glad that Serafina had come to blunt some of Bertha’s misdirected enthusiasm.

  Serafina took a quick breath and plunged in. “The gentleman’s name is Dylan Tremayne. I invited him to come to breakfast this morning because he can help us. He’s a friend of Clive’s, and he’s offered to assist us in any way he can.”

  “The actor fellow?” Septimus said. “How could he possibly help?”

  Alberta turned and stared at her husband. “What do you mean—an actor?”

  “Well, the fellow’s an actor. Isn’t that right, Serafina?”

  “Yes, he is. As you know, Clive went to the theatre a lot to meet that woman who was killed. Mr. Tremayne and he became friends.”

  “I don’t think it’s quite the right thing to have an actor having a meal in our house,” Alberta said primly. “You know what a depraved group of people they are.”

  Bertha had been caught with a mouthful of mushrooms and gravy, so her response was delayed, but now she screeched, “An actor! I can’t believe it! They are the most immoral people on this earth!” She waved her fan in front of her face as if she were about to faint. Bertha never fainted. She was far too solid—and too determined to have her say about the man Serafina had invited.

  “I think you’ll find Mr. Tremayne quite acceptable.” Serafina tried to think of some way to prove this and finally said, “He’s a Christian man, as I understand it. He does some mission work down on the wharf among the unfortunates there.”

  “I don’t believe it! He’s probably a ranting Methodist—some sort of enthusiast!” Bertha pronounced. “You can’t have such a fellow in our home!”

  Aldora was watching Serafina curiously. “But how could an actor be any help to us?” she asked. “I thought we might hire a private investigator.”

  “In effect, that’s what Mr. Tremayne is, except that he’s not being paid. He really has an affection for Clive, and I think that’s important.”

  “Well, I would really rather you wouldn’t ask him any more, Serafina,” Alberta said. “I don’t feel like having strangers around.” She was nervous and twisted a handkerchief in her hands, and Septimus went over to her and put his arm around her. It was an unusual gesture of affection, and Alberta looked up at him with surprise. Then she glanced back and asked, “Where did you meet him, Serafina?”

  Serafina related how Dylan had visited Clive in his cell and alerted the family about its condition. She was interrupted several times by Aunt Bertha, but each time Serafina simply raised the level of her voice. Just as she was ending the story, Barden came into the breakfast room and said, “There’s a gentleman here, a Mr. Tremayne. He says he’s expected.”

  “Show him in, will you, James,” Serafina said quickly.

  “I hardly know how to think of an actor in the midst of our family,” Alberta said fretfully.

  “It’s unseemly, Serafina!” Bertha said loudly.“You should know better.” She had no time to say more, for which Serafina was glad. James returned with Dylan and nodded. “Mr. Tremayne.”

  Serafina turned to face Dylan and saw that he was perfectly dressed. He wore a checked jacket of fine wool and a fresh cotton shirt. His trousers were a fawn colour and his boots gleamed, the fine leather catching the reflection of the chandelier. Serafina went forward, saying, “I’m glad you’ve come, Dylan.”

  “I hope I’m not late,”Dylan said. He smiled, took her hand and bent over it, and turned to face her family.

  “I would like for you all to meet Mr. Dylan Tremayne, a good friend of Clive’s. This is my father, Septimus, and my mother, Alberta. This is my sister, Aldora, better known as Dora, and this is my son, David—oh, and this is my aunt, Lady Bertha Mulvane.”

  Serafina glanced at her family, and she saw that Dora’s eyes were wide. She knew that the outlandish good looks of the actor had caught her attention. Her mother, she saw, was impressed by Dylan’s appearance also, and her father’s eyes brightened as he said, “We’re glad to have you, Mr. Tremayne.”

  David said, “Can we eat now? I’m hungry.”

  “Yes, of course. Mr. Tremayne, this will be your seat.” She had seated him next to her father, across from her, with Dora at his right side. But before he could sit down, she said quickly, “Come along, Mr. Tremayne, let me serve you.”

  “Very kind of you, it is. I’m very hungry.” She led Tremayne to the sideboard and handed him a plate, and he filled it with food.

  When Dylan was seated, Septimus said, “I haven’t had a chance to thank you properly for the service you did to my poor boy.”

  “It was little enough, sir. I hope to be of further service.”

  David said, “Why do you talk so funny?”

  “David!” Serafina said at once. “That’s an impolite thing to say.”

  “It’s all right,Viscountess. I’m accustomed to it.”He turned to David and said, “I talk funny because I come from another country, ay?”

  “You ain’t an English person?”

  “Well, not exactly. I come from a country called Wales.”

  “Does everyone talk like you there?”

  “Pretty much, Master David.”

  David took a huge mouthful of eggs, and as he chewed it, he said, “Do you have any little boys?”

  Dora leaned over and said urgently, “David, don’t ask such personal questions.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not polite.” Dora turned to Dylan and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Tremayne.”

  “No problem it is.How is the boy going to learn if he doesn’t ask questions? No, David, I don’t have any little boys, but I hope to someday.”

  David thought that over and said, “When you do, will you bring them here to play with me?”

  “You may rest assured I will do exactly that,Master David.”

  “How long have you lived in England?” Alberta asked.

  “Oh, I left Wales when I was but a boy of ten. Came to London, I did. Had a rough time of it for my growing-up years. Then I enlisted.”

  “You were a soldier?” Dora asked.

  “Yes, I was. The Cavalry.”

  “Did you kill anybody?” David demanded.

  Serafina was at her wits’ end. She looked at David and said, “David, will you please not ask such personal questions.”

  “Well, if he was a soldier, he must have killed somebody.”

  “I was in some battles, Master David,” Dylan said. He looked at the boy an
d smiled. “They were shooting at me, and I was shooting at them. I suppose I killed as many of them as they did of me.”

  Dora smiled at this and said, “There, David. Now don’t ask any more personal questions.”

  “Have you been out of the Army long?” Septimus asked.

  “Yes, for a couple of years.”

  “I understand that you’re an actor,” Aunt Bertha said. She pronounced the word actor as if it were something very unpleasant. “How did you get into that . . . profession?”

  “Why, by accident mostly, ma’am. I got out of the service with no money and no profession really. I took up with some folks who were in the theatrical line, and they taught me a little bit about acting.”

  “Have you been in many plays, Mr. Tremayne?” Dora asked.

  “Quite a few. I’m not the star of the one I’m in now, of course.”

  “I hope you’ll all go see him in the play that’s at the Old Vic,” Serafina said. “He plays a rather dashing young man, sword fights and all sorts of things.”

  “I’ll come and see you.Will you teach me how to fight with a sword?” David asked.

  Dylan laughed and said, “I expect when you’re a little older, your family will see to it that you have fencing lessons.”

  Dora leaned forward. Her eyes were large as she studied Dylan. She was excited, Serafina could tell. “What’s it like being an actor?”

  “Not as romantic as most people think.Mostly it’s a lot of hard work, a lot of uncomfortable traveling, sleeping in uncomfortable, strange beds, and sometimes being run out of town.”

  “Disgraceful!” Bertha muttered under her breath, glaring at him.

  “Not really!” Dora protested. “Run out of town? Why is that?”

  “Some of the citizens have strong feelings against theatrical people and the theatre itself. I can understand that. Many of the plays are unfit to be seen.”

  “Then why do you appear in them?” Dora asked, a puzzled look on her face.

  “I don’t. I appear only in plays that I think are moral, upright, and can have some redeeming social value. Plays that can help a person be better.”