A Killer Ball at Honeychurch Hall (17 page)

BOOK: A Killer Ball at Honeychurch Hall
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“He told me he was going to call you,” I said.

“He did call and left a message,” said Shawn. “We'll be calling him back.”

“Oh.” I had to admit that surprised me.

“Did you get a license plate for the camper van?” Shawn asked.

“No, but it's very distinctive. It's old—seventies, perhaps? Green-and-white VW,” I said. “I think he might be sleeping in it. It was parked in the field behind the walled garden.”

“Trespassing, eh?” said Shawn thoughtfully. “I wonder what his game is?”

Dick's black Fiat 500 entered the farmyard.

“Perhaps you'd better go home,” said Shawn. “If Bryan is our man, he may be wanting to see who else remembers that night in 1958.”

“What … you mean…” I felt cold all over. “Do you mean my mother could be in danger?”

“Unless she did it,” said Roxy.

“Mum was with your grandmother this morning, Shawn,” I said. Roxy was becoming really annoying.

“We don't know what time Ginny was snatched at this point, Roxy,” Shawn replied. “Let's deal with the facts.” Shawn handed me a scrap of paper. “My private mobile phone number. Go home. Be careful.”

 

Chapter Fifteen

“That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard,” Mum fumed and slammed her gin and tonic down on the kitchen table. “So now I'm able to clone myself, zip over to Ginny's, abduct her … pop in for a quick cup of coffee with Peggy … and all before lunch?”

“I'm under suspicion, too.”

“It's obvious that Bryan Laney has something to do with it,” said Mum. “They should be questioning him.”

“They will. Oh, Mum, I'm worried sick about Ginny. Roxy told me that it was a bluff—that she didn't really know who was responsible for Pandora's death.”

“Ginny will turn up. This is Little Dipperton. Maybe someone put her in an abandoned shed until she agrees not to write any more stories about Honeychurch Hall. We should get Alfred to do some channeling.”

“This isn't a joke.”

“He's been very successful in the past,” Mum protested.

“With finding Mr. Chips,” I pointed out.

“You have no idea what Alfred can do.”

“I don't think I want to.”

“All he needs is something Ginny has worn. An old sweater, perhaps.”

I laughed. “I know that Alfred can communicate with animals but are you assuming he can change into a bloodhound?”

“He's done it before.”

“I'll let you tell Shawn,” I said.

“And there is something else,” said Mum. “Eric has already taken the Hollar paintings to Luxton's but I don't want you to worry. Everything is under control.”

“I'd forgotten all about that,” I said. “Well, since we're both banned from the Hall, I'm not getting involved anymore.”

“Good.”

I regarded Mum with suspicion. “Why? What's going on?”

“You don't remember, do you?”

“What?”

“Remember the insurance scam?” said Mum. “And that list of items that had been reported stolen and some were hidden in the underground tunnel?”

“Yes, I remember. Why?”

“The Hollar drawings were on that list, too.”

“No, they weren't,” I said. “You're talking about the oil paintings by John Collier, not the drawings by Wenceslaus Hollar.”

Mum looked smug. “It's just as well you've got me, dear.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. Peggy mentioned that her ladyship had changed her mind about selling the Steiff bear and that Eric had gone off to Luxton's with the Hollar drawings.”

“And?”

“I had one of my weird premonitions so I went and took a look at that list.”

“You went through my private things
again
?”

“You told me that David had given you a copy, remember? Wait! Where are you going?” Mum shouted as I tore up the stairs. “Guilt!” she yelled. “I bet he already knew ahead of time that he was going to renew his vows with Cruella.”

In the drawer in my night table I still kept a box with all my letters from David that I'd been meaning to throw out. There, in an envelope marked June 21, 1990 was a photocopy of the police report detailing the fact that an intruder had entered the French windows in the dining room in the middle of the night; that there had been no alarm; no broken windows and no witnesses. A list, handwritten by David, itemized the pieces that were claimed as stolen.

Mum was right. Alongside the Collier painting, was the word
Hollars
. The ink was smudged and I suppose the spelling looked so similar I hadn't thought to take a closer look. The minute the paintings entered the cataloguing database, the Art & Antiques Unit would get an alert.

I raced back to the kitchen, flapping the list. “What are we going to do?”

Mum beamed. “You've got absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“Are you mad?” I shrieked. “There is everything to worry about!”

Mum carried on smiling.

“When did Eric take them? I need to talk to Eric.”

“Calm down!” said Mum. “Alfred is taking care of everything. And I mean …
everything
.”

“What has Alfred got to do with this?”

Mum's smile kept growing broader. She tapped the side of her nose. “The less you know, the better.”

I thought for a moment. “He's going to steal them back, isn't he?”

“I'm afraid I can't tell you the details,” said Mum. “I'm sworn to secrecy.”

“He is, isn't he?” The thought was horrifying. “When?”

Mum's eyes were alive with excitement. “All I can say is that you are in excellent hands.”

“Please don't tell me he's going to break into the warehouse?”

“It's Saturday night. No one will be there. I thought it was a jolly good idea.”

I could feel myself becoming hysterical. “They have security guards. There are surveillance cameras everywhere. Who does Alfred think he is? Tom Cruise?”

“Don't worry,” said Mum again. “He's used to all that. He's an expert.”

“Not so much of an expert. He's been caught enough times.”

Mum frowned a bit. “He's not as agile as he once was, I admit, but he's very fit for a man of his age.”

“Call him,” I said. “Call him right now and tell him to come back.”

“I can't call him. He doesn't have a mobile.”

I made a beeline for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to stop him,” I roared.

“You're too late. Alfred is probably doing it right now.”

I thought for a moment. “Wait—Alfred doesn't have a car.”

“He borrowed my MINI.”

“Oh great, so if he's caught, it'll be in your car.” I thought again. “Does he actually know what the Hollar paintings look like?”

Mum's smile faltered. “Perhaps you'd better go after him, after all.”

“God help me,” I muttered.

“And put on something black!”

 

Chapter Sixteen

All thoughts of Ginny and Pandora's demise flew clean out of my head as I drove the twenty-five miles to Newton Abbot as fast as I dared.

For a Saturday night, the roads were busy and it took me a full forty-five minutes to reach Heathfield Business Park where Luxton's had their storage facility.

The land had once belonged to a stately home called Heathfield Place. The eighteenth-century house had been pulled down thirty years ago to make way for the town's bypass—yet another casualty to progress. All that was left were the two stone pillars that used to flank the main entrance but were now covered in graffiti.

I pulled up next to a large board that mapped the location of each company in the business park. Luxton's was on the far side of the park in unit 23. A sign warned of twenty-four-hour surveillance and a security guard patrol … with a dog.

I'd been to Luxton's once before and had gotten horribly lost. It was a warren of roads lined with square, flat-roofed, windowless boxes that all looked the same. It was dreary enough during the day, but at night, the empty car parks took on a rather sinister air.

I set off again and tried to concoct a feasible story in case I was stopped. Wouldn't that look peachy on the front page of the
Daily Post
! Heathfield Business Park was hardly somewhere anyone stumbled upon.

And then I saw Mum's MINI and I swear my heart skipped a beat.

It was parked in the
middle
of the road and what's more, it was empty.

I drew up alongside and got out. The door was unlocked but the keys were still inside. I just didn't know what to do. Perhaps Alfred had his reasons to continue on foot. After all, he
was
the expert—apparently.

With a feeling of dread, I got back into my car and began crawling the roads looking left and right for Alfred. I took the spur down to unit 23 but there was no sign of him anywhere.

I was growing increasingly nervous. Had the security guard picked him up for questioning—or maybe, the worst had happened and he had been arrested! It was the only reason I could think of for abandoning Mum's car.

I was about to turn around and head home when out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a dark figure in the shadows. He was holding two large rectangular packages.

It had to be Alfred.

I flashed my headlights.

For a moment, nothing happened.

I opened my window. “Alfred!” I called out urgently. “Quickly. Get in.”

Alfred part-ran, part-staggered under the weight of his heavy load. He was dressed all in black and was actually wearing a balaclava.

I leapt out, threw open the hatchback—and gasped. There were four boxes, not two.

“Drive, just drive!” Alfred shouted.

I slammed down the hatchback and jumped in, executed a perfect three-point turn and we sped away.

“Why are there four boxes?” I demanded.

“I took a couple of others.” Alfred was wheezing from exertion. He ripped off his balaclava. “It's got to look like a break-in.”

“It
was
a break-in!” I shrieked. “Why would you do that? Oh God, we'll all be arrested.”

“Calm down, luv,” said Alfred. “This isn't my first rodeo and put your foot down. I reckon we've got five minutes before this place is crawling with coppers.”

We sped toward the main entrance but I suddenly remembered and slammed on the brakes. “Mum's MINI!” I cried. “We have to go back and get it.”

“Can't. Guard won't be knocked out for long.”

“Knocked
out
?”

“And there's a snag,” said Alfred.

“A
snag
?”

“Old Iris … she really should keep her petrol tank filled up.”

“You ran out of
petrol
?” I gasped.

“But don't you worry about that. I've got you covered, luv.”

“No, no! We can't leave it.”

“Pull yourself together!” Alfred said sharply. “We're not going back.”

I practically took the corner out of the business park on two wheels. Moments later, three police cars with flashing lights sped past us with their sirens howling. As they receded into the distance Alfred started to cackle with glee then promptly dissolved into one of his coughing fits.

“I don't know how you can find this funny!” I was severely shaken up. “They'll see Mum's car! They'll find it. We're doomed.”

“Stop panicking,” said Alfred. “We got out. We're fine. And good job on driving the getaway car. Didn't think you had it in you. Wait until I tell Iris.”

“If she hasn't already been arrested.”

“We should take a back road,” said Alfred. “Just in case.”

I took the long way home, winding up and down narrow country lanes where some even had grass growing down the middle. Now that there were a lot of miles between Newton Abbot and us my heart rate had returned to normal.

“I'm glad you know where you are going.” Alfred sounded impressed.

“I ride around here,” I said. “I know all these roads—oh!”

Up ahead I saw the rear of a white Vauxhall Astra parked on the side of the road. “It's the police!”

“No, it's not,” said Alfred with a confidence I definitely did not feel. “Just a couple getting a bit of nooky. Take it slow. Don't attract attention.”

In fact, the car was empty but as we drove by, I noticed the dent in the rear passenger door. It threw me for a moment. Surely, it wasn't Pippa's car? But no, that made no sense. She'd never leave Max at home alone.

Alfred gave a sigh of relief. I stole a glimpse at my mother's stepbrother and for the first time, saw that his face held traces of fear.

“Alfred, you're supposed to be on parole,” I said. “You took a huge risk doing this for Edith and the family.”

“Yeah, well, her ladyship took a chance on me. I wanted to help.”

“But what are we going to do?” I said.

“Trust me,” said Alfred. “Just trust me. The main thing is that we didn't get caught.”

The lane ended in a T-junction. I turned right, went straight across a tiny crossroads, turned left and then we were back in Cavalier Lane.

“See!” I said. “One more hairpin bend and we're home.”

A pair of headlights swept around the corner.

“Are we?” Alfred croaked. “I'm not so sure.”

I pulled over to allow the car to pass and my heart sank.

It was a police panda and in the driver's seat sat Shawn. Even worse, he stopped and opened his window.

“Act normal!” hissed Alfred.

A glance at the clock on my dashboard declared it was anything but normal. It was gone midnight. “How can they have gotten here so fast?”

BOOK: A Killer Ball at Honeychurch Hall
12.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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