Free Murder on Waverly Place by Victoria Thompson Page B

“I’m sorry to put you through this, Mrs. Burke, but I only have a few more questions and then you can go,” he said when she’d slowed down a bit.
    She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and full of horror. “She fell on me! I’ll never forget how that felt. I tried to catch her, but she was too heavy.”
    “And then you screamed,” Frank said.
    “I did?” she asked in surprise. “I don’t remember. I was just trying to tell everyone she fainted, trying to make myself heard over the din.”
    “What happened next?”
    “I don’t know . . . Someone opened the door, I guess. I didn’t see who. Then I could see her lying there, in the light that came in from the hall. Her face . . . She looked surprised. Her eyes were open, and she just seemed surprised. I asked her if she was all right,” she remembered with another shudder.
    “What happened then?”
    She tried to remember. Frank could see her making the effort, picturing the scene. “Everyone was talking at once. Someone . . . Mr. Sharpe, I think, he knelt down to help her. Madame was calling for the Professor to bring smelling salts. We thought she’d fainted, you see. Then someone said, ‘My God! Look at her back.’ ”
    “Do you remember who that was?”
    “I . . . No, I’m sorry. I looked at her back, and I saw . . .” She shuddered again. “And then everything is all confused. I just wanted to get away . The next thing I remember clearly, we were all in the parlor, and the Professor told us to wait there while he got the police.”
    “This Mrs. Gittings, was she a friend of yours?”
    “Oh, no, not at all,” she said too quickly. “I met her here. She was at the first séance I attended.”
    “Do you know anything about her?”
    Mrs. Burke had to think about this. “I believe she was trying to contact someone in her family, but I can’t think who. Isn’t that strange? I know who everyone else in the group wanted to contact.”
    “You don’t know where she lived?”
    She bit her lip, and Frank realized she was lying, although he couldn’t imagine why. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry. I’m sure Madame or the Professor could help you.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Burke.”
    “May I go now?” she asked eagerly.
    “Yes, you can. Do you have a carriage waiting for you?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “Stay right here. I’ll have the Professor escort you out.” She looked as if she might not even be able to walk back to the parlor, and if she did faint, Frank wanted no part of it.
    The Professor was only too glad to do Frank’s bidding. Frank returned to the parlor to select the next witness. Once again, everyone looked up when he walked into the room. The two remaining men had been conferring in the corner, and they both started toward him. Frank instantly chose the older man as the one most likely to have power and influence and therefore the most likely to cause him trouble.
    “I’ll see you next,” he said and turned away before the other one could argue. As he’d expected, the older gentleman followed him. They passed Mrs. Burke and the Professor on their way out.
    “Are you all right, Mrs. Burke?” the man asked solicitously.
    “Yes, thank you, Mr. Sharpe.”
    “If you need help getting home—”
    “Oh, thank you, but my carriage is waiting outside. I’ll . . . Well, good-bye.”
    “Good-bye,” he replied and watched until the Professor had gotten her out the front door before following Frank to the empty dining room. Frank closed the doors and indicated he should take a seat.
    Sharpe was well dressed and well groomed, the masculine equivalent of Mrs. Decker and Mrs. Burke. He could probably have been welcomed into Felix Decker’s home and conducted himself well.
    “I don’t know why you’ve detained all of us,” Sharpe was protesting even before Frank had a chance to sit down himself. “You can’t think any of us were responsible for what happened to Mrs. Gittings.”
    “Somebody stuck a knife into Mrs. Gittings’s back,”