The Ghost in the Big Brass Bed Read Free Page B

me in. I could hear the moans of dying men, the deep thud of cannons in the distance. The air around me felt cold and wet. It was filled with the smell of fire and blood.
    I tried to look away. To my horror, I couldn’t move. The picture had trapped me and was forcing me to see things I didn’t want to know about.

CHAPTER FOUR
    In the Tower
    I started to panic. I wanted to turn from those terrible images. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t escape the blood and the death—until Phoebe came back into the room and asked, “Well, now, who wants what?”
    Her voice broke the picture’s terrible hold on me. Shivering, I spun away. I wanted to ask Chris if she had felt the same thing, but I would have to wait until we were alone. Then I saw her eyes, and I knew I didn’t have to ask. She had felt it, too.
    Before anyone could answer Phoebe’s question, the doorbell rang.
    â€œThat must be Carla,” said Phoebe. “Goodness, I can’t remember the last time I had so many visitors.” She turned to Stephen and said, “I didn’t expect everything to happen at once like this. I’m sorry.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” Mr. Bassett said, waving his hand.
    Phoebe hobbled off to answer the door. While she was gone, I pointed to the painting and asked softly, “What is that?”
    â€œIt’s called ‘Early Harvest’,” said Mr. Bassett. He grimaced. “Dreadful, isn’t it? Very famous, though.”
    Before I could ask why it was famous, Phoebe returned. Following her was a tall, white-haired woman dressed in a dark blue silk blouse and a pair of jeans that had faded to light blue. Her eyes were blue, too—ice blue in a face that was tanned and wrinkled. Although she looked only a few years younger than Phoebe, she seemed a lot stronger.
    â€œCarla!” Norma cried. “What are you doing here?”
    The tone in Norma’s voice made it clear that she was really happy to see Carla. But the white-haired woman drew back a little, as if someone had made a rude noise.
    Norma just laughed. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be nosy. I mean, I am nosy, but I try to keep it under control. I’m just surprised to see you!”
    Carla relaxed a little. “Actually, I’m a little surprised to see you, too,” she said. She spoke slowly, and her voice had a musical quality to it that I liked very much.
    Norma gestured for Chris and me to join them. “Girls, this is Carla Bond. She teaches art history at the university. I use her as a consultant when I’m having trouble figuring out the date for a piece of furniture. She’s the best in the city.”
    Carla Bond smiled at the praise. “Pleased to meet you,” she said after Norma had told her our names. She was formal, but not stiff. She held out her hand, which felt cool and smooth in my own when we shook. She smelled like peaches.
    Ms. Bond had just let go of my hand when a large black-and-white cat wandered into the room and began rubbing against Norma’s legs. Norma jumped back with a little cry.
    â€œGeneral Pershing!” Phoebe exclaimed. “How did you get in here?” Moving stiffly, she bent to pick up the cat, which hissed angrily. “I’m sorry, Norma,” said Phoebe. “I’ll put him outside.”
    â€œI’m allergic,” Norma explained to the rest of us as Phoebe shuffled away.
    After a moment of slightly awkward silence, Ms. Bond turned to Norma and said, “I expect you’ll find some excellent pieces here. Phoebe’s family was quite prominent in Syracuse before the tragedy.”
    My ears perked up. “Tragedy?” I asked. “What tragedy?”
    I must have sounded too eager, because Ms. Bond gave me an exaggerated version of the look she had given Norma. “The family fell on hard times,” she said softly.
    Then she turned and went to sit on the