Chapter 4

Dashiell and Regina followed Mr. Watson down the stairs and saw a large black town car idling near the curb. He opened the rear door and held it open for them. It appeared to be a natural movement for him.

Dashiell and Regina entered the rear of the automobile and Mr. Watson joined them.

“Do you mind if Detective Robbins joins us?” Dashiell asked.

“Not at all. If I am correct, it will speed things along. Additionally, she can serve as a witness to the summoning.”

The car pulled away from the curb and into D.C.’s noon-time traffic. “So tell me, Mr. Watson. Exactly which member of the Scofield family passed away?” Regina asked.

“It was Mrs. Scofield,” Watson said.

“Which Mrs. Scofield?” Regina prompted, knowing there were three current Mrs. Scofield’s.

“I am sorry, Detective. Within the household, only Mrs. Elaine Scofield, the matriarch, was referred to as Mrs. Scofield. The others were known by more familiar names.”

Dashiell whistled. Elaine Scofield was the head of the family’s charitable trust. She sat on the Board of the Children’s Hospital, was a donor to Feed the Homeless and was renowned for her work with various charities around the city. A death within the Scofield family was noteworthy. The death of the matriarch was sure to be national news.

“Does anyone else know about this?” Dashiell asked.

“No one. I felt it best to be discreet in this matter, especially until we know for sure what happened.”

Dashiell nodded, somewhat relieved. Of course, the fact that the family was consulting him was another reason to keep this matter quiet. Many would look askance at the use of an occult detective.

“What makes you suspect foul play?” Dashiell inquired. “If memory serves, Mrs. Scofield was of a fairly advanced age. In her late seventies, wasn’t she?”

“Yes,” Watson confirmed. “However, she visited with a doctor just last month and he assured her she was in perfect health. I myself saw her just this morning when serving her breakfast and she looked quite vigorous.”

“And what did her morning consist of?”

“It was a full schedule. She spent a great deal of time on the phone with various charities. She had a photo shoot for Washington Woman magazine and then spent time alone in her study working on her autobiography. The publisher was expecting a copy of several chapters next week.”

“What happened?” Regina asked.

“I went to check on her, to inquire what she wanted for lunch. I found her laying on the chaise lounge. I tried to wake her, but to no avail. I checked her vital signs and found nothing.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you sought me out,” Dashiell said. “People die suddenly all the time.”

“A fair point, Mr. Aldridge,” Watson said. The car was pulling into a long driveway in front of a very large house. “However, when I looked around the office I realized that the manuscript Mrs. Scofield had been working on was gone.”

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