Page 148 of Miss Wolcott’s Ghost

“Is it about Mr. Fillmore?”

“Maybe.”

“Is it about him and Miss Wolcott’s donation?” he asked.

She nodded.

They’d already established that it went down with the ship. Her papers were destroyed. But … But …

But when asked, hadn’t the Dean said her donation was “mostly” papers?

“Did she leave your college something other than documents?” Isabelle asked.

Now the librarian smiled. Beamed, in fact.

“Since you guessed, yes. Incredibly, she left clothing.”

“I beg your pardon?” said Isabelle.

“Clothing. Clothes.”

“Dresses?” Maybe, thought Beauvoir, the long outdated dresses Miss Wolcott used to spread the seeds around her unsuspecting neighbors’ gardens.

“No. A man’s suit. Heavy tweed. I can’t think why that would be important to her. Maybe it belonged to a husband or lover.”

“Do you still have it?”

“No.”

“Did Fillmore take it?”

“I can’t say.”

What she could and could not say struck the investigators as pretty arbitrary. Still, they were getting further than with the Dean.

“Can we see where the suit was kept?”

The librarian paused to consider.

Please, begged Beauvoir. Please, begged Lacoste.

“Yes, I don’t see that that’s a problem.”

They followed her to the basement archives, where she pulled out an old steamer trunk with passage stickers from shipping lines from all over the world.

It was empty. Almost.

There on the bottom, so easy to miss, was a tiny seed. With hooks like claws.

CHAPTER 52

Trees had broken through the windows, and roots had burrowed into the concrete, loosening bricks and making the entire structure unsafe. That dilapidated sign was not wrong.

There were great holes in the floors and roof, so Armand could see wispy clouds three flights up.

How much of this place would be familiar to Miss Wolcott, should she magically reappear? Her former home had been renovated and added to. It looked like it might have once been a school, then a nursing home. An effort seemed to have been made to turn it into a hotel.

But the building had resisted, until its final occupants were oak trees and chestnuts. Apple trees had claimed what might have once been the drawing room, turning it into an orchard. Lazy bees hummed in and out of the blossoms. These were the preferred residents. The ones the building tolerated.