Having been but poorly attended by Whitney to my chambers, I embarked upon the realm of dreams. A mere four hours post-midnight, I then found myself conveyed in a state of drowsiness, to my wheelchair. The recollections that lingered, prior to the illuminating rays enveloping me, were naught but the sound of a number of exclamations accompanying my entry.
With the light hitting my eyes, I struggled to see where I was and what was occurring. After a minute or two of straining, I could finally figure out my surroundings.
I found myself, verily, still within the familiar confines of my own residence, yet I had been ushered into the parlour. Perched upon the armchair adjacent to mine, much to my delight, was my sister, recently returned, in all her glory. However, to my astonishment, seated across from her with handcuffs binding her behind her back was none other than Aunt Whitney. With her flanked on either side were two constables.
"What transpiration has occurred here?" I inquired. I had merely penned the telegram, yet I had not dispatched it. Thus, it was indeed a marvel that perchance Mara had divined my very thoughts.
"Our own Aunt is one amongst the four implicated in the vanishing of the two paintings." Mara wore a tender smile that masked her pride in this revelation.
I regarded the situation, my mouth agape in astonishment. "What prompted you to arrive at this inference?"
"I shall permit the lady before me to explain, and I shall speak myself should she choose to deceive." She bestowed upon the lady in question a bold gaze, yet one that served as an invitation to commence her explanation.
"Very well, if you must hear the truth here it is." Whitney reclined in her chair, crossed her left leg over the right, and emitted an exaggerated sigh.
"Quit the attitude at once and tell us all." Mara directed a subtle smile towards Whitney, a silent entreaty not to provoke her ire.
Inexplicably, the writerly instincts surged within me, and I made to withdraw in order to procure my pen and paper. Yet, I was halted by my sister as she deftly concealed my writing implements from behind the cushions, as if she had been forearmed for this very occasion since her return.
"Thank you, dear sister," I kindly provoked, allowing her to pass the writing implements over to my person. I opened to an empty page, and waited for the tale to take toil.
"I first encountered your Uncle Hugo whilst in a relationship with another gentleman, during the time when your mother and I still resided in Yarmouth. This occurred in the 1980s, if that sparks your interest. This gentleman had no wealth and has resided on the streets for some years, but I couldn't have been happier with anyone else. Well, that was until fate caught up with him."
"What happened?" I inquired with immediacy.
"I was just getting to that," she retorted with a snarl, grinding her teeth in agitation. After a brief moment of trepidation, she resumed her narrative.
"Amidst our customary discourse, he chanced upon a passer-by who, by misfortune, had lost three fifty-pound notes upon the concrete below them.
He cast his gaze upon the notes and swiftly retrieved them from the ground. 'What are you going to do with the money?' I queried. He tarried in silence, pondering his reply. Then, as if struck by a revelation, he leapt from the pavement and proclaimed, 'I must procure you and any finery of attire that may be found.' Curiosity creeped up on me, as I sought to understand his exclamation. He simply responded, 'We shall venture over to the equestrian racing establishment, gamble upon one of the steeds to be victorious, and thereby attain a fortune out of anyone's grasp.
The scheme in operation seemed splendid, and ultimately came true. Of all those who ventured upon the uncertain path of chance, but we and two others were the sole possessors of the victorious steed in the contest.
I had been suppressing the pressing need to relieve myself, so that I might witness our mount's triumphant return. The prize purse was duly apportioned amongst us, and I therefore requested that my share be securely retained by him until my return. Yet, upon my return after a brief interval, I searched diligently for him so that I could get my share, yet he was nowhere in sight.
He had abandoned the course with a sum exceeding his selfishness. The amount I recall was intended to be £45 per person. Yet on this particular occasion, owing to the scarce number, it had escalated to £78 each."
"Have you heard from this gentleman of late?" I inquired, eager to glean her insights whilst hastily inscribing all that I could from her tale.
"Indeed, I have," she replied in a hushed tone. Yet, despite the modulation of her voice, her words remained distinctly audible. "When your mother lay upon her deathbed, I remained by her side. Yet, though I was present in body, my mind wandered far, for some unfathomable reason, to that fateful day upon the racecourse.
I do believe that the subsequent occurrences may have fated to transpire next. I departed from my sister's company, drawn toward the visage of the knocker. Upon unfastening the door, a chill coursed through my veins."
I stifled a small gasp at the revelation. "The man!"
"Indeed," she resumed. "The manner in which he found our place of residence eluded my comprehension.
He made his way into the approach of the dwelling with a torrent of apologies cascading everywhere. I could not stand these deliveries of apologetic words he had given me. I found myself in a state of frustration yet endeavoured to mask my emotions.
Furthermore, I sought to broach the matter concerning the affair aloft, yet he incessantly spoke over my utterances. I persistently implored, 'Phillip, I beg you. Return at a more reasonable moment.' Unfortunately, he would not heed my entreaties.'"
I redirected my gaze to the page when I perceived a sound. In my notebook, I inscribed the following; Is Phillip, the security steward, implicated? My gaze lifted from the parchment to my sister, who retained her gentle smile, yet I discerned a silent plea in her countenance. I noted her furtive glance upon my writing, then towards me, and finally to Whitney. I was able to comprehend her unspoken desire for my charge.
Therefore, in slight compliance with Mara's silent request, I took the liberty to pose two inquiries of utmost significance to Whitney. 'Am I correct in concluding that you have just acknowledged the possible involvement of a gentleman named Phillip?'
She sighed anew, yet this exhalation spoke of pure defeat, as her head lowered to conceal her visage from mine. 'Yes,' she murmured.
"And may I confirm that this Phillip still resides within the territory of Yarmouth's walls as a personnel in charge of security?"
She uttered not a syllable, yet required not to, for the answer was evident in her countenance and discomposure.
A hush settled over the assembly, each soul poised in eager anticipation for the utterance of another syllable. I cast mine eyes upon Mara once more, yet this occasion found her gaze firmly affixed upon Whitney.
Mara took the initiative. "I express my gratitude for enlightening us upon this matter. However, I wish to say that we both are aware that there exists far more to this occurrence."
"Such as what?" Whitney retorted, resuming her usual intonation whilst striving to meet the gaze of both Mara and myself. It was evident that Whitney endeavoured to feign innocence amidst the constables encircling her. Yet, Mara remained undeterred.
I could see in my peripheral Mara's expression transforming itself into anger, a sight in which I have only witnessed whilst in one of her chosen guises. "You are well aware of what I am implying, and mark my words, Auntie. I will not allow your departure from my eyes until I have drawn out the remaining verity from your lips."