The Ghost: Ghost of a Chance Part 3 (Conclusion)

Ghost of a Chance: Conclusion

Men started murmuring and women started gasping. Merry White shucked her cigarette tray and headed towards us. Miguel Epiñada, face suddenly purple, shoved his way towards the body.

I turned Angel over onto her back and saw her death stare, knew her fears had been all too real. Someone had tired of trying to persuade her to kill herself and done it for her, right in front of the Ghost.

Foam bubbled out of her mouth and her lips contorted. A sinking feeling came to my gut, as if I had just lost something I never really had.

I looked up at the gathering, seeing Miguel Epiñada peering down with a look that said his meal ticket had just taken the train. I didn't see much feeling for Angel in his eyes. Tears streamed down flapper girl's face, dripping onto her blouse and mingling with small pink stains on the material. She appeared on the verge of fainting. Joe Bodyguard had a scowl on his fat lips and was yelling something about nobody moving and killing whoever had done this to his Angel.

I avoided any contact with the foam dribbling out of Angel's mouth, since there was a slightly acrid odor I recognized. She had been poisoned, that much was obvious.

I gently placed her head on the floor and let my hand drift over her swelling eyes, to close the lids.

After I got to my feet, I went to the piano and examined the champagne glass. I waved a hand over it, wafting its scent into my nostrils. The same acrid odor.

I returned to the gathering, noting the bartender on the phone, most likely to the police.

"I demand an answer to this!" Miguel Epiñada shouted, fury on his face, now that some of the shock had worn off. "I demand to know who murdered my Angel." He said "my Angel" in the same way someone says my house or my car. Something he owned, not loved.

"I can tell you who did it," I said, looking over flapper girl, the bodyguard and Miguel Epiñada in turn. I put on the Ghost, then, and a gasp came from flapper girl, a growl from the bodyguard and not much of anything but annoyance from Epiñada.

"And who are you, sir? What connection have to my Angel?" Epiñada folded his arms, expecting an answer like he owned the world.

"I'm someone who used to care about your Angel," I answered, not because he had asked but because I needed to say something to get my own nerves under control. "Someone who perhaps still does."

"You say you…you know who did it?" asked flapper girl, tears still streaming, hands now quaking.

I nodded. "Carbolic acid—phenol—in her champagne and a lot of it."

"She was poisoned?" The bodyguard's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"She was poisoned," I said. "But the why…flapper girl can answer that better than I can."

A startled look jumped onto flapper girl's face and the tears stopped as if a spigot had been closed. "Me? How would I—"

I stepped over to her. "Phenol sometimes appears red or pinkish if it's not pure." I pointed to the pink dots on her blouse. I reached out, pulled the blouse down slightly to reveal whitish marks on her skin. "You were a trifle clumsy when you put it in her champagne. Phenol is absorbed through the skin, incidentally, causes gangrene after a while."

Horror replaced the grief on her face like a shade had been drawn. "I…I have no idea—"

"Carbolic has been sometimes used medically. You were a nurse. Your circus background might give you access to fake mediums, so I imagine you picked up some tricks. Angel told me she was hearing voices in her dressing room. The only question is, why?"

Flapper girl looked ready to deny it but a sudden flood of tears gushed and she bowed her head. Sobs wracked her body. "I…used microphones, wax recordings. I thought if I frightened her and was there to comfort her afterward…she…she would run into my arms. I loved her…" I told her so last night and she…she laughed…said I was a silly little girl. Said I should dismiss such foolish notions and find myself a man to change my ways."

"Well, that's just mighty peculiar…" came Merry's voice beside me.

"She said she had gone to see the man she was going to marry and that after this engagement she was going to find herself a new piano player." Flapper girl's head came up; makeup streaked down her cheeks. "I couldn’t live without her, don't you understand?"

Six years ago I would have understood. Now…now it just brought a sick feeling to my stomach.

Flapper girl screamed, "I never wanted to kill her but I couldn’t let anyone else have her!" She tried to make a break for it, but Joe Bodyguard grabbed her arm and held her fast. With the look on his face, I hoped there'd be something left for the police when they arrived. Miguel Epiñada seemed stunned into silence for probably the first time in his life. Outside, sirens wailed, coming closer, and I said goodbye to Angel…

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Three hours later…

I sat on the divan in my brownstone, Merry's head nestled against my chest. A scratchy recording revolved on the phonograph, filling the dimly lit room with Angel's voice. I felt little of the satisfaction I usually did after wrapping up a case. When Angel died she took something of me with her, a part of my past, perhaps.

Merry sighed. "What that girl said, about Angel saying she had seen the man she was going to marry…that was you, George, wasn't it?"

"Angel always wanted something, Merry—usually only until she tired of playing with it, which never took very long."

"But if she hadn't…died…would you…?"

I knew the question on her mind: Would I have thrown her over for a beautiful torch singer with whom I obviously had a history?

I chuckled, reached up to her hair and produced a rose from midair. "Not a ghost of chance…”