Perkins' Ghost

CHAPTER TEN

BY THE TIME Monday came around Hill was more than ready to see the tents torn down, to have the food stands shut up, to see Privateer Days' trash swept up and to put the whole thing to bed for another year. But there were still the Canada Day celebrations and fireworks to take place that evening. Privateer Days and Mosher's death felt like a thorn in his side and he would have liked nothing better than to see the workers sweep up the whole of it. Yet in another way he felt that during the dismantling of the park some valuable information was going to be stowed into the trash bins. This tug-of-war of emotions had him on edge.

Hill drove over to the museum and walked around Perkins House. At the front door he showed his badge to the attendant, though it was hardly necessary for everyone knew him. And if they didn't know him then his uniform spoke for itself. The inside of the old house, with its creaking floors and the women in period costume, moved him back in time. He had to credit Darren and Scarlett for the exactness of the set in her play, for it perfectly matched Perkins' foyer, sitting room and counting room. Hill stood soaking up the ambiance before he stepped over the barrier and into the room. He moved a winged-back chair, placing it nearer the fireplace in precisely the same way that it had been on the set and then he sat on it. He did not notice the attendant's scowl because he was concentrating and trying to imagine how Perkins felt in the last days before his death. He recalled a few lines of Scarlett's play and knew that the play was not entirely fact based. However, in all likelihood Perkins did sit in exactly that spot, during the coldest of winter days, to soak up the warmth from the fireplace. He gave him a sense of pride knowing that, in the little town of Liverpool, someone had gone through the extra effort and expense to display the rooms exact to the period. Hill sat in the chair and tried to feel Perkins' pain but he could not imagine the agony that Perkins might have felt. In the world of modern medicine Hill never would have to suffer such misery.

Hill stepped into the counting room and Perkins' desk stood exactly where it was meant to be during the warmer seasons of the year. Hill peered into the old kitchen. As homey and inviting as it was he turned back to the counting room. He ran his hand over the back of the chair and desk and paused before Perkins' picture. When he felt that there was nothing more to be learned he returned to the sitting room, repositioned the winged-backed chair where it belonged and walked back into the foyer. He nodded to the woman who minded the door and stepped out into the sunshine.

Since Hill was at that end of town he drove on down to the lighthouse, parked his car and walked across the park. Workers were raking the grass and collecting trash. The Privateer Days re-enactment event was over and it would be another year before the crowds again swarmed to the point. Hill stood at the railing and watched the otters as they scurried along the rocks. The mournful sound of gulls filled the air and an intoxicating aroma wafted from the long row of roses that were in full bloom. He stood looking out over the placid sea and it put him a world apart from his investigation. Then some enthusiastic tourist blasted the fog horn in the lighthouse causing Hill to jump. His edginess reminded him again of Mosher's death. He pushed away from the railing and returned to his cruiser.

As he was driving past Perkins House he saw who he thought was Briggs walking into the main entrance to the house. Hill wheeled his car into the parking lot and walked directly to the house. The same attendant was on guard, checking the tickets. Without pause Hill asked her, "I just saw Christian Briggs come in. Which room did he go into?"

"Briggs? No one has been in since you left. Business is right slow today."

Hill rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he was overtired. "Sorry to bother you. I was sure I saw him come this way."

Hill shook his head and muttered to himself that the stress of the investigation and his need to interrogate Briggs was getting to him. He got back into his car and pointed it back towards the town center. Just down the street was the home of Alexis Saunders, the actor who played Elizabeth. Hill glanced at her house and when he saw her sitting on the front porch he turned his car into the drive. The moment that he cut the engine he could hear her sobbing. He got out of his car and took two steps towards the verandah before pausing. Not wanting to disturb her he turned back. He slammed the car door and paused before starting the engine. Alexis stood and walked to the edge of the verandah so that Hill could see her. He sighed heavily and got out of the car again. She waited for him to climb the stairs. By the time he reached the top step she had wiped away all evidence of her weeping.