~ Maze Of Secrets ~

by

Norma Seely

“Do you think Clarice Carmichael might have killed her husband?” Irmajean Lloyd watched as her husband Glenn lowered the morning newspaper and fixed her with a where-did-that-come-from look.

“Does it matter after all this time? It’s been what--seventy plus years?”

“Any bit of human interest matters. It definitely would add spice to the house tours at Rosewood. Heaven knows we need all the help we can get raising money to keep the estate up and running.” A volunteer gardener and a member of the board of directors at historic Rosewood, she was learning the hard way what it took to keep such a place operating. “People pay their five dollars for a tour of the house and garden, and they want to hear interesting stories about the people who lived there. Not just that the floors are oak, the fireplace tiles imported from Italy… Besides, people ask questions and we don’t have many answers. Which makes it look like we haven’t done our homework.”

“I don’t see how you can be expected to know every last detail.”

Irmajean dipped her tea bag up and down in her cup and then wrapped it around her spoon, squeezing every last bit of flavor from it.

“You’d be surprised what people expect us to know. And Priscilla doesn’t want to disappoint anyone.” She felt quite responsible for Priscilla, a friend of their daughter Gemma, since she’d been instrumental in hiring the young woman to be director of historic Rosewood Estate-the 1894 Queen Anne style mansion and five-acre garden bequeathed to the local historical society by the late Chalmers Carmichael. “Clarice was a bit of an enigma and visitors want to know why she became almost a recluse. For that matter, I’d like to know.”

“And you think it would bring in more money if Clarice turned out to be a murderer?”

Irmajean again wrapped the string around her tea bag, strangling it. “Priscilla is looking for ways to draw more visitors to the property. A juicy mystery would be just the ticket.”

Glenn Lloyd folded his newspaper with a sigh and focused his attention on the woman he’d been married to for thirty-five years. “If it’s mystery you want, it seems to me you’ve already got it in not having all the answers. Let people speculate on what might have happened.”

Irmajean shook her short brown curls and pursed her lips. “No, we need more than that. The number of visitors is down and other than two June weddings booked for the Rose Garden, we have absolutely nothing happening.”

“And you think a murder would change all that?” His tone was skeptical.

“Of course! People may shudder at the thought, but they do like to hear the grisly details. Look how they flock to supposedly haunted houses. Besides, whatever happened--if indeed a crime was committed--it was so long ago it can’t affect anyone alive today. Or anyone that we know of. Clarice’s only child, Chalmers, died without heirs.” She poked at her now cold poached egg.

Glenn looked at his wife and then his newspaper with longing. “What gave you the idea Clarice might have murdered her husband? I was under the impression he simply skipped town.”

“Well, yes, that’s the general consensus.” Irmajean did like to speculate on the truth and, in her own mind at least, enhance it appropriately. She felt a good story could always be improved upon. In the case of the Carmichael’s, there were a lot of gaps to fill.

“What has Priscilla thinking differently?”

“According to stories we’ve heard, Clarice made a poor choice of husband.” Leaning her elbows on the table, Irmajean launched into her favorite subject--Rosewood and its late owners. “She was well into her thirties when she married Bertram Willowby. Brought him home from a world cruise, surprising the whole town because people never thought she’d marry. Apparently things didn’t go well right from the start and once Chalmers was born… Anyway, Priscilla has been digging through old boxes and she’s run across a lot of stuff belonging to the husband. Boxes and boxes of clothes, books, even a deluxe monogrammed shaving kit. Now what well-groomed man would leave that behind? Especially since we’ve heard Willowby was something of a dandy.”

“Maybe he had more than one shaving kit. One for at home and one for travel.”

Irmajean frowned at her husband. “Must you be so reasonable? Doesn’t it seem a little unlikely he would leave everything he owned behind?”

“Hon, you don’t know that he did. He may have left some things, perhaps with the understanding Clarice would send them on when he got settled.”

“Then why didn’t she?”

“I can give you several possible reasons…”

Irmajean shook her head. “No, no, I don’t want to hear them. Reasonable explanations won’t bring in visitors or satisfy them once they get here.”

“You’re telling me people want scandal.”

Irmajean beamed her satisfaction at his understanding. “Exactly.”

“Then make something up.”

His suggestion shocked her. “People don’t want stories, they want the truth.”

“Well, since nobody knows the truth...” His tone bordered on exasperation.

“And that’s what Priscilla is trying to find out. Honey, even you have to admit it looks a bit strange Willowby was here one day and gone the next.”

“When people move on that’s usually the case. They don’t take themselves off in pieces.”

She smiled her satisfaction. “Unless someone else does that for them.”