The Butler Didn't Do It - Maria Lima [4]
“Jamison?” His voice became a mousy squeak.
I was getting impatient. He was blocking my way and I wanted to go in and make sure everything was ready for the viewing. Funny, now that Gerald was here, my earlier nervousness was gone and all I wanted to do was to get this over with.
“Yes, Jamison,” I said, pushing him out of the way and opened the door. “He told me he’d get someone to check on the electricity. It wasn’t working when I was here a little while ago.”
“Jamison can’t be here,” he said, gulping hard, his voice still shaky.
I stopped and turned to face him, briefly noting that the electric wall sconces were glowing with a soft light. Good.
“Gerald, what is your problem? Jamison was released after talking to the police. He’s back on duty here. Evidently, he’s no longer a suspect.” I stared at Gerald’s face, which seemed to be much paler than normal. Hard to tell, since his normal complexion is that of a mushroom.
“He...” My cousin couldn’t seem to get the words out.
“He what?”
Gerald stammered again and then stopped to take a breath. As he opened his mouth to speak, I saw him glance over my shoulder. His face froze and instead of words, he let out a long wail and pointed behind me.
I spun around, my brain slowly processing the words my cousin was shrieking, as I took in the sight in front of me.
“She’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone.” Gerald’s voice got higher with each word.
Although the sconces were on, the area around the altar remained dark. The candles were still the only source of light up there, illuminated nothing more than the empty bier. My aunt’s body had vanished.
I swallowed hard and started to move when Gerald grabbed me.
“No!” he said, hoarsely. “Don’t.”
I pulled my arm and forced it out of his grasp. I needed to get closer to see. My brain raced. I knew we needed to call the Constable, Jamison, anybody. I didn’t want to be alone here. Gerald, in his current state, didn’t count.
Maybe the funeral home had mistakenly come early. I walked up the aisle, my steps slow, barely aware of Gerald behind me. Moving closer, I halfway expected to see a business card from Montmorency & Sons on the bier. Like when a realtor leaves a card behind to let you know she’s shown your house while you were out. My mind was practically babbling.
Of course, there was nothing there but a satin pillow. In fact, it still had the impression of Clara’s head on it and one lone gray hair. As I started to head for the main switch panel to turn on the rest of the lights, I realized what Gerald was saying.
“She’s going to come back. She knows it was me.” He blubbered around the words, crying and covering his face with his hands.
“Gerald?” I said, not wanting to understand what I was hearing. Was he trying to tell me that Aunt Clara had been murdered? And that he’d done it?
He looked up, his face tear-stained. “She’s coming back for me.”
“Coming back?” I realized what he was saying. “Gerald, get a grip. Aunt Clara is dead.”
He nodded, still blubbering. “I saw them. They didn’t know.”
He glanced towards the empty bier. “And now she’s walking the night. The other night, I came to ask her for some money. My business...” He looked at me with an apologetic glance.
“But I couldn’t find her,” he continued. “So I went up to see the butler. To see if he knew where she was. His door was open. They were there together. It was horrible.”
I was appalled, bemused, and more than a little confused. So my aunt had been having an affair with her butler. It wasn’t exactly “the thing” in the local circles, but Clara had always marched to her own beat.
“Blood,” whispered Gerald.
He finally looked at me, his eyes shiny and round. “He was drinking her blood, and then, she did the same to him. So, I had to do it.”
I stared at him, not believing what I heard. Was my aunt into some sort of Goth weirdness? At her age? She’d always been a little strange, but this was too much to believe.
“I had it all worked out,” he continued, his voice stronger now, as he gained confidence in his actions.
“I’d report her dead. Then blame Jamison. I