The Art of the Devil by John Altman Read Free Book Online

Summersby – and Summersby, in the house matron’s opinion, had been no special prize, at least not compared to this girl. But with Ike’s six weeks of convalescence already under way, time with which to interview potential maids was short. Barbara Cameron had chosen the worst possible moment to leave them in the lurch.
    Spilt milk,
et cetera
. The only sensible thing now was to make the best of the situation.
    â€˜Well, then.’ Miss Dunbarton pushed back from her desk with new-found resolve. ‘Let’s take the tour, shall we?’
    â€˜We call this Farm Two. We keep twenty-five cattle here, along with six hundred chickens – but you needn’t worry about that. Your job will be entirely confined to this house, traditionally called the herdsman’s home. In addition to the usual farmhands and agents, we’ll have quite a few special guests over the next few weeks. Truly amazing, how many people tag along wherever the President goes. The majority of his staff is lodged in town, four miles away. We’ll get only the barest minimum here on the farm, and it will still be just about more than we can handle. But no matter what, standards must be maintained.’
    Remaining two steps behind Miss Dunbarton as they moved through the drafty but well-renovated barn, Elisabeth Grant said nothing.
    â€˜The President and First Lady are staying on the next property – Farm One, we call it – along with their closest bodyguards and the President’s personal valet. That’s over there.’ With a loose gesture through a window, in the direction of a thick-planted row of Norway spruce. The girl followed the gesture curiously, letting her gaze linger. ‘They’ve got a nice set-up,’ Miss Dunbarton confided. ‘The President gave Mamie free reign when they first bought the place, and she did an absolutely bang-up job with the decor – oh, perhaps a little precious for my taste, with all that pink, but still lovely. Unfortunately, my dear, but you won’t be seeing it from any closer than this. Even
I
won’t set foot over there unless they need a last-minute hand in the kitchen, and I’ve been employed here for three years.’
    The girl nodded.
    â€˜In any case, we’ll have our hands full with the spillover, as I said: secretaries, backup Secret Service, and the like. When encountering a VIP, smile politely and carry on with your duties. Never speak unless spoken to. Over here – if you please; thank you – we’ve got the dining room. Your duties include food preparation, serving, and clean-up, as well as dusting, washing floors and windows, and whatever else we may require. After serving and clearing each meal, you can take your own, back in the kitchen, of course. You’re expected to work from six each morning until your work is done each night. Curfew is at nine. Once per week you’ll get a day off – perhaps both days of a weekend, every once in a while, if you can square it with the other girls – which is yours to spend as you like. Many of the girls head into town, to catch a matinee. Your first day off will be Tuesday; you’ll be expected to use it to stock up on any provisions you find you need.’
    The young woman nodded again.
    â€˜Now through here,’ Miss Dunbarton said, ‘we’ll find the kitchen – the center of your workday. I hope this isn’t sounding too onerous, my dear. We wouldn’t want you complaining to the senator.’
    Elisabeth Grant shook her head graciously and stepped aside to let Miss Dunbarton lead the way.
    ROUTE 30: WEST OF LEWISVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA
    By the time Richard Hart found the perfect place to stage his ambush, the last streaks of color were dissolving in the sky.
    But the hours of searching had been well spent; the terrain was ideal for his purposes. Wooded hills lining the road offered myriad hiding places from which to shoot. The slope by the