Wilmington, NC 03 - Murder On The Ghost Walk

forehead. The dumbwaiter shaft ! Of course. The dumbwaiter shaft had been a bone of contention ever since the project began two weeks ago. Mirabelle had wanted to save it. "It'll be fun to show off," she had said. "A novelty. Sheldon Mackie said we should preserve it."
    "There's no way we can expand the kitchen to fit all the cooking equipment you require ," Jon argued, "plus a sub-zero refrigerator, and space for the camera crew and technicians and all their equipment. We've got to break through that shaft. It's an obstacle."
    He turned to me, "Ashley, what do you think?"
    "She'll do what I tell her to do," Mirabelle snapped. "Just find a way to work around it."
    "Actually, Mirabelle, Jon, it goes against my training to destroy any historical architectural feature . . . "
    Mirabelle look ed smug; Jon seemed surprised I would disagree with him.
    " . . . except a dumbwaiter."
    "What?" Mirabelle cried .
    "Look, Mirabelle, I know how you feel about these old treasures. I feel the same way. But that shaft is a fire hazard. If you had a fire in the kitchen, that shaft would act like a flue and suck the flames right up to the second floor ballroom before the firemen could get their boots on. I'm sorry, but I'm with Jon. It's got to go."
    I made a n ally of Jon that day.

    Now, I looked at him across the restaurant table and exclaimed, "The dumbwaiter shaft! Of course. The killer got into the wall from the other side, through the dumbwaiter shaft."
    "Which is lined with wood panels," Jon reminded me. "He had only to lower the dumbwaiter to the basement, pry off a panel, and hide those bodies inside the wall."
    "But why go to all that trouble? Why not just hide the bodies in the shaft? ” What a gruesome picture I painted. I’d never sleep tonight. “ The house was empty. Even though I saw it for myself, I still can’t picture how he got two bodies into that wall. How could they fit in there?”
    “I pried off some of the panels for the police,” Jon explained. “There was plenty of dead space, some filler materials. A sort of chamber. A perfect tomb. I’ve seen odder configurations in old-house construction, and I’ll bet you have too.”
    “Yes, come to think of it I have. Do the police have any idea how they were killed?"
    "They weren't confiding in me. But they had insisted Willie and I remain to advise t he technicians about removing the remaining laths. Didn’t want the house to fall in on their heads, they said.
    “ The technicians packed the bones in boxes, and I overheard someone say Dr. Banks was driving them to a forensic anthropologist in Durham, some professor at Duke who does consulting work for the State Bureau of Investigation. ”
    Our food arrived and I didn’t want to be talking about skeletons while eating. I’d had enough of that that at lunch.
    “Exactly how are you related to Reggie and Shelby Campbell?” I asked.
    " Oh, v ery, very distantly ,” Jon replied, cutting his grouper with his fork and groaning with pleasure. “I’m starved. I was wondering what I was going to eat when you called.” He gave me one of those smiles again. “So glad you did. ”
    I sliced into the beef tenderloin with little enthusiasm.
    Jon went on, “The Reginald Campbell line is from one branch of the Campbell clan, I'm from another. But we're all descended from Duncan Campbell who led 350 settlers from Argyll to the Upper Cape Fear in 1737.
    "The Highland Scots were fierce fighters who sided with the Loyalists. They marched to Moore's Creek Bridge but the Patriots were expecting them, removed the bridge's planks and greased the girders."
    Jon chuckled. "My ancestors were defeated by greased logs. Some were taken captive, a few escaped and mingled with the citizenry here. My ancestors were on the wrong side of the War of Independence . How's that for irony?"
    "So you were never close to Reggie and Shelby?" I asked.
    "Oh, we knew each other in high school. Called each other 'Cuz' just to be cute . But Reggie was from money and I am not . Makes a difference. Then later his lifestyle was totally different from mine. We had nothing in common."
    "What kind of lifestyle?" I asked.
    "Exotic. A berrant."
    "Aberrant?"
    "They ran with a fast crowd. Orgies. Mate swapping. Kinky sex. Stuff like that." He frowned his disapproval . "They were bored, Ashley."
    "Hmmm," I said thoughtfully. "Melanie told me she bought the house at for e closure. "
    "Yeah, I heard about that. If she hadn't snapped it up someone else