A Drowned Maiden's Hair_ A Melodrama - Laura Amy Schlitz [36]
“She was alone.” Hyacinth took up the story. “It was the last day of her holiday in Cape Calypso, and there’d been a storm the night before. Caroline wanted to go to the ocean one last time, but her mother — Eleanor Lambert — was too busy packing.”
“Eleanor Lambert spoiled that child.”
Hyacinth shrugged. “Undoubtedly. At any rate, that was one morning when Caroline didn’t get her way. Her mother was too busy to take her to the ocean, and Caroline wasn’t allowed to go by herself. Then Caroline changed her tune. She wanted to ride the flying horses —”
“What flying horses?” asked Maud.
“The horses on the carousel.” Hyacinth saw that Maud had not yet understood. “Gracious, child, haven’t you seen a carousel?”
Maud shook her head.
“It’s a ride at the amusement park. The carousel, the flying horses, the merry-go-round —”
“I’ve heard of merry-go-rounds,” Maud said, eager to regain ground. “Only I’ve never seen one.”
“There’s a fine one in Cape Calypso. The wood carvings are splendid — horses and tigers and zebras. There’s even a giraffe — and a tabby cat — all kinds of animals. Caroline’s favorite was a sort of sea monster. Odd to think of that now, isn’t it?”
Maud had a hazy but dazzling image of herself on the back of a tiger. She wore the white dress trimmed with lace, and her scarlet sash fluttered in the breeze. “Will I ride the merry-go-round?”
“It isn’t likely,” answered Judith, dashing her hopes. “Remember, in Cape Calypso, you’ll be even more of a secret than you are here. You’ll be spending most of your time in the attic.”
Maud digested this news in silence.
“Eventually” — Hyacinth raised her voice and went on with the story she was telling — “Caroline Lambert switched her plea from one last swim to one last ride. The carousel was close to the hotel where they were staying. Caroline knew the way — she was in the habit of riding every day. So Mrs. Lambert emptied her purse into Caroline’s greedy little paws and told her to come back when the money was spent. Only she never came back.”
Maud’s imagination conjured up another picture: another little girl, almost her twin, vanishing into thin air. “Maybe she didn’t drown,” she said tentatively. “Maybe someone kidnapped her. Or she ran away.”
“She drowned,” Judith informed her. “First she went to the carousel and spent her mother’s money. Then she went in the water — in her street clothes, not her bathing dress. They found the body. She was her mother’s only child.”
“They row’d her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,
The cruel hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea.”
“Hyacinth,” Judith said disdainfully.
Maud considered the fate of Caroline Lambert. It frightened her that a child had died. It was sadder and scarier than Mr. Burckhardt’s silly Agnes. “What did she look like?”
“Tall for her age — she was eight. Exceptionally pretty, by all accounts. Long curls. An angel child,” Hyacinth answered.
Maud’s sympathy for the victim wavered and dissolved.
“She’ll need a wig,” Judith reminded her sister.
“I know that.” Hyacinth sounded offended. “I’ve ordered one from a theatrical costumer.” She directed her attention back to Maud. “Eleanor Lambert offered five thousand dollars to any medium who could produce a genuine manifestation of her child.”
Maud’s head jerked up. “Five thousand dollars?”
“Five thousand dollars. Enough to pay off the mortgage with a comfortable balance left over.” Judith looked straight into Maud’s eyes. “You see how much is at stake.”
“It won’t be easy,” Hyacinth warned Maud. “Unlike Burckhardt, Eleanor Lambert is no fool. And she’s been tricked before. Last year, she employed a certain Madame Zauberlicht. She caught the medium pretending to be Caroline.”
“How could a grown-up pretend to be a little girl?”
“She was