Late at Night by William Schoell Read Free Book Online Page B

holding up the rest of the dinner, he went into the kitchen.
    “He and Lynn must have had an argument,” Cynthia said, unnecessarily, as that much was obvious to all of them.
    “All that talk of blood and ghosts and faces in the mirror would give anyone a headache,” Gloria said, but the conversation had not affected her appetite. She scraped the last of the cabbage off her plate, and licked her lips. “Is this all we’re getting for dinner? Red cabbage? It was quite good, but I’m afraid I was expecting something a little more substantial.”
    “I believe they’re have trouble in the kitchen,” Anton explained. And indeed, everyone could hear the raised voices of the lawyer and the cook coining from the adjacent chamber. Anton cocked his head—he was nearest the kitchen door—and tried to hear what they were saying. “Apparently,” he surmised, “the equipment in there is like something from the Dark Ages, and our poor Mrs. Plushing is having trouble with the roast.”
    “Well, I hope John doesn’t take it out on the poor woman,” Gloria said. “It’s not her fault if this place was built around the turn of the century.”
    “The 1860s actually,” Ernest smiled, thankful for the opportunity to add something to the conversation. He was by nature a quiet man, and easily overlooked unless he felt he had something to say. That would definitely be a problem with this flamboyant, prestigious crowd of actresses, concert pianists, and gossip columnists. “This was built for a family named Burrows in 1862,” he continued. “Originally all that stood was the first floor. It was servants quarters, nothing more. Burrows was a religious fanatic and something of a maverick. Not only would he not let his own servants sleep in the same house with him, he built their quarters at some distance from his mansion. Something about not wanting ‘inferiors’ living under the same roof. If an emergency arose late in the evening, one of his sons would have to run all the way to the servants’ house to rouse someone! Then in the 1920s the new owners, the Langdons, added two more floors, and built additions to the first floor, to make this a large guest house for visitors. Then when the main house—”
    Jerry laughed. “You mean this isn’t the main house!”
    “Oh no,” Ernie shook his head. “The main house was partially destroyed by a fire. It’s still standing, though, and from what I’ve heard is in good enough shape to be completely restored at some point. The fire occurred around 1931, and after that this house became the ‘main’ house. Lynn’s aunt bought the island in the fifties and stayed here in the summers every year until her death. I think John could confirm that.”
    Ernie realized that Andrea was looking at him rather intently, so he paused for a moment, hoping to give her the chance to speak.
    She did not disappoint him. “Wasn’t there another, earlier mansion—I mean a different one from the house that burned?”
    Ernie sensed that Andrea already knew the answer to her question, but she was giving him the opportunity to impress the others with his knowledge, to have center stage for a change. He’d lost the limelight earlier as soon as the others had realized he really hadn’t known what had happened to Emily. “Yes, you’re right,” he said. “The original house was built in 1650 and was completely destroyed by a fire about a hundred years later. It seems that the people who had owned it were dispossessed and took revenge on the new owners—a minister and his wife—by burning their house down. While they were in it.”
    Cynthia gulped. “Pleasant people.”
    “Then the island came into the hands of Burrows, who later became the infamous mass murderer of Lammerty Island. He built a new mansion in a different spot. I suppose we can all traipse over and take a look at what’s left of it tomorrow.”
    Ernie was about to continue with his history lesson, enjoying the luxury of being