Part 7 (1/2)

NEELY WAS CURIOUS. ON THE WAY UPSTAIRS SHE GLANCED at Curtis once or twice. His eyes were squinted and his lower lip was jutting out. When Neely said, ”Your mom is pretty glamorous all right,” he only shrugged and made a snorting noise.

A minute later he said, ”She thinks she is anyway.” He was breathing deeply. ”The Hutchinsons don't think so though. They think she's cheap. That's what my cousins say. They say n.o.body wanted my dad to marry her.”

Neely didn't answer. She didn't know what to say-and besides, they turned the corner just about then and there was Curtis's father coming through a door at the end of the hall. He was dressed this time in a s.h.i.+rt and khaki pants but the same ratty old bathrobe was still draped around his shoulders. When Neely started toward him to say h.e.l.lo, he turned and went back through the same door.

Neely looked at Curtis questioningly but he only shrugged and said, ”He doesn't like to talk to people when he's working on his book. Writers are that way.”

”Oh yeah, I guess so,” Neely said. ”My dad knows some writers. Some of them are pretty strange at times. What is your dad's book going to be about?”

”Survival, mostly,” Curtis said. ”It's mostly about survival. You know. About how to go build a fortress in the mountains and protect yourself when a war comes or a revolution. My dad's always been real interested in survival.”

Neely might have asked some more questions about the survival book, but they'd reached the nursery by then and there were other things to think about.

While Curtis was unlocking the door she hung back-bracing herself for how bad things might be inside. As Grub ran into the room eagerly, practically vibrating with excitement, she followed slowly-and almost froze in amazement. It looked exactly the same. Nothing had been changed in any way. The circus and battleground were just as Grub had left them, and the toy soldier who had been chosen for the role of kidnapper still lay in front of the window of the dollhouse right where Grub had dropped it.

”Hasn't anybody been here?” she finally managed to ask. ”Since we were here, I mean?”

Curtis looked uncomfortable-and then tried to cover it with his phony supercool act. ”Naw. I just didn't feel like it. I had too much else to do.”

”You haven't been back here at all...since Sat.u.r.day?” Neely asked.

”Sure I have. I came in and got the key-and your lunches, didn't I?” Curtis said.

”And you locked it back up. Why did you lock it back up?”

”Carmen told me to. And besides, why should I want to come in here? I don't play with this kind of kid stuff.”

So Neely's worries about what Curtis had been doing in the nursery had apparently been unnecessary because Curtis ”didn't play with kid stuff.” At least that's what he said. But when Neely suggested that maybe he'd like to go somewhere else to play he quickly said no. And before very long he seemed to be having a great time making the toy soldiers have an extremely b.l.o.o.d.y battle. Grub played with him for a while and then went back to the circus game and, Neely noticed, to his invisible playmate. And while Grub played and whispered, Curtis went on mowing down whole regiments of soldiers.

Neely had been fooling around with the dollhouse-making up stuff about the kidnapping in between thinking about other things-when suddenly she realized what had happened. Or what hadn't happened-and why. Curtis had simply been afraid. He'd been afraid to be alone in the nursery. She was pretty sure she was right, but she decided to check it out.

Neely put the mother doll back on the bed where she'd been weeping for her kidnapped child, took pity on her and produced her baby from where he'd been hidden by the kidnappers and put him back in his mother's arms, then got up and went over to the battlefield and sat down beside Curtis.

When Curtis looked up from firing off a line of cannons she said, ”Did you get a chance to talk to Carmen about Monica?”

Curtis's eyes narrowed suspiciously. ”Yeah,” he said. ”I talked to her. Why?”

”I don't know. Just curious, I guess. What did she say?”

Curtis looked at Neely through narrowed eyes. But then his desire to be the one who knew something important obviously got the better of his suspicious nature. Putting down a cannon, he turned around, grinning in a strange, almost gloating way. ”Well,” he said, ”at first she said it had all happened a long time before she was ever here and it was all just talk, but then”-he paused for dramatic effect-”then she said that n.o.body knew for sure...but the Monica kid was probably murdered.”

Neely gasped. She'd been wanting something mysterious and exciting, but not something as bad as that. It was too unbelievably awful. She was still staring at Curtis in speechless surprise when she became vaguely aware that Grub was standing behind her. ”Murdered?” she finally managed to ask. ”How? Who murdered her?”

Curtis looked up at Grub and then at Neely, obviously pleased at the effect his story was having. ”Well, see,” he said, settling into the telling, ”this old woman told Carmen that all the servants were told Monica died of some kind of disease, but it had really been, like, an accident. What really happened was that she'd fallen out of a window. And, she also said that some of the servants thought it hadn't just been an accident...like maybe she was pushed, or something.”

For a long moment Neely was silent, her mind racing. She heard Grub whisper something under his breath, but before she could ask him what he'd said, Curtis went on, ”Carmen said this one old servant who'd been Monica's nanny said that some of the other kids had pushed her because they hated her.”

”Hated her?” Neely asked. ”Why would they hate her?”

Curtis shrugged. ”I don't know. Carmen says that Monica's nanny said it was because the grown-ups liked her best. Especially their grandfather who had all the money liked her best, so she always got all the best stuff.” He grinned and shrugged. ”But maybe it was just because she was a dirty little snitch. I have a cousin who's like that.” He laughed noisily. ”I might push her out a window if I got a chance.”

Neely gave him a cold stare and after a moment he clutched his elbows and grinned sheepishly. ”Just joking,” he said.

On the way home that day Neely kept thinking about what Carmen had told Curtis. Grub must have been thinking, too, because he was very quiet. They were almost to the gate when she remembered that she'd wanted to ask him what he'd whispered while Curtis was talking.

”Grub,” she said. ”What did you say when Curtis said Monica fell out a window?”

”I said, 'that window,'” Grub said. ”I said, 'maybe out that big window.'”

Neely thought she knew what window Grub meant. All the rest of the way home she kept picturing the big window behind the bandstand in the ballroom and wondering how it happened. Wondering if the two iron bars that protected the lower half of the window had been there when Monica fell or if they'd been put there afterward when it was too late. Too late at least for Monica. Because it didn't really seem possible that anyone could fall clear over the bars-unless they were pushed pretty hard.

She wanted to ask Grub what he thought, but he didn't seem to want to talk about it anymore. Several times when she asked him something he just shook his head, but finally when she asked, ”Do you think someone pushed Monica?” he nodded slowly and said, ”Someone. Someone pushed her.”

Neely stopped walking and grabbed Grub's arms and shook him. ”Who?” she demanded. ”Who pushed her?”

Grub turned his face away. ”I don't know,” he said.

Neely shook him harder. ”Then how do you know she was pushed?” she said.

But Grub didn't answer. He pulled away and ran down the hill toward home.

Chapter 27.

JUST A COUPLE OF DAYS LATER THE PHONE RANG EARLY IN the morning and it was Curtis. ”Hey,” he said, ”our phones are working. You want my number?” And after Neely said ”Sure” and wrote it down, he went on, ”Hey, why don't you come up for a while today?”

”Well... Neely hesitated. She had been thinking about going into town with Dad to spend the day with Mimi. But when she said so, Curtis said, ”Well, how about tomorrow then? Or the day after? Or this Friday?”

The problem was that Neely still wasn't sure whether she wanted to keep going back to Halcyon House. Or to be more specific, she was sure and she wasn't.

She wanted to go back, on the one hand, because Halcyon was still an intriguing place, even though the arrival of Curtis and his family had spoiled it in some ways. There was still, after all, the unsolved mystery of Monica and the possibility that there were more fascinating facts to be discovered about her. And she really wanted to find out more about the murder thing, from Carmen or maybe even from Curtis.

And then, too, there were probably many other interesting things to find out about other star-crossed Hutchinsons, as well. She was really intrigued by the thought of all those other old Hutchinson mysteries that might yet be uncovered.

And, she had to admit, she was curious about Curtis and his family too. She'd never known a person like Curtis who flip-flopped from one kind of personality to another in such an unpredictable way. Or anyone whose father didn't have to work except maybe to spend his time writing a book about survival. (Neely wasn't sure she believed that story any more than she believed the bank manager one.) Or whose mother sat around all day in a velvet robe playing solitaire. There were, she decided, a few mysteries about the present-day Hutchinsons to be solved as well. And mysteries, particularly tragic ones, had always been hard for Neely to resist.

She also was tempted to say yes because Grub wanted to go back to Halcyon so much. And at the moment, the moment being August, with the beginning of school coming nearer and nearer, Grub really needed something to take his mind off his worries.

Grub had always hated for school to start and this year he hated it more than usual. Most people, and especially Mom, couldn't understand it because, unlike most kids who hate school, Grub was a very good student. Neely, herself, couldn't understand it entirely.

When she asked him about it once he said something like, ”I don't know. I guess I just don't know how to do it right.”

”Do what right?” Neely had asked. ”You're great at school. You're fantastic at reading, and you know more history and geography than most high school kids, and you're even pretty good at math. What do you mean you don't know how to do it?”