Murder on the Hill (13 page)

“That’s correct,” she said, raising an eyebrow as if to say,
So what?

“Look, Abigail, I’m sorry to come here with all the questions, but you need to help me out here. Your father hired us to investigate the break-in and the death of your mother. Although officially it was natural causes, he believed otherwise. And now he is dead too. The one thing that connects everything is a doru.”

“I can’t help you with that,” she said. “I own two, and as you can see they’re right there. Besides,” she said, relaxing her shoulders and dropping her character for a brief moment, “my father and I had come to an agreement.”

“Recently?”

“Yes.” She sighed, and for the first time I saw the real Abigail: a late-twenties woman who had nothing but her work. She looked weary now as she continued. “He paid for my trip as a way of handling my inheritance. Think of it as a bribe for me to keep my mouth shut.”

“About what? And was this the source of your falling out?”

She nodded. “Now that they’re both gone, I can finally get it off my chest. There’s a relief in that, you know?”

“I do,” I said, and I did. Confessing my past to Cordi and Alex earlier had brought me a great deal of relief. Holding onto lies or secrets creates a toxic dump in your mind and body. It’s good to get rid of it. “Go on, Abigail, I’m listening.”

She exhaled a long sigh and said, “Okay, for the last twenty years I had kept his secret from my mother. For a good number of years, starting from when I was just a toddler, my father had an affair with another woman. After I was born, my mother fell into a deep depression. She never wanted me, I was an accident, but my father insisted. My mother and I never bonded. Frankly, she hated the sight of me, and it caused her a great deal of joy when I left at the age of eighteen.

“But she still loved my father very much. Probably too much; she had no love left for anyone else. Knowing that the truth about his affair would destroy her, he swore me to secrecy. When I returned from Japan, I decided to tell her the truth about him before it was too late.”

“And that’s when he bribed you to keep quiet?”

“Yes. I wasn’t happy with the situation, but I thought if he was to suffer for his lies, then perhaps it was better he suffered financially rather than destroying my mother. Although she never loved me, I still loved her, in a strange kind of way. I couldn’t tell her about the affair or his lies. So I took his money instead. But now they’re both gone, so I suppose none of it matters now.”

A small tear welled up in her right eye, but she blinked it away and straightened, bringing back her alter ego.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It might sound trite, but I do understand.”

Abigail sniffed with derision. “If that’s all you wanted to know…”

“Do you know who it was your father had an affair with?”

She told me, and I had to fight to keep the surprise off my face.

“One more thing,” I said. “Just to eliminate you from our enquiries, and probably the police’s, do you have an alibi for the night of the break-in and the murder?” I gave her the exact dates, and she just nodded and walked out the door, telling me to come with her.

In an office room on the first floor, she showed me the security camera system. A monitor was showing four camera feeds, covering all angles of the dungeon. Cordi was still spanking the gimp but had exchanged the paddle for a leather flail of some sort.

“Your friend’s enjoying herself,” Abigail said without humour. “Could be a career change. Here, my alibi.” She handed me a flash drive. “A copy of footage from those dates. They’re time stamped. I was working all night on both of those dates. I had nothing to do with either.”

“Thanks.” I took the flash drive and placed it in my jeans pocket.

“Stay here, I’ll fetch your friend, and then I must return to my work.”

Within minutes, Cordi returned and we were ushered out. We got into her car, and I told her about the lies and the bribe.

“Hmm, so another dead end,” Cordi said.

“Not quite. She told me who it was her father had an affair with.”

“Who?”

I told her.

“No way!”

“Yes way.” I looked at my watch. “If we leave now, we can grab a drink and a bite to eat and make our plans for the care home stakeout.”

With the shock of the revelation still on her face, Cordi fired the ignition and slowly pulled away from the curbside. That’s when I saw Abigail’s door open and a man walk out gingerly. I did a double take, looking at him through the rear-view mirror.

But it was unmistakably him.

The gimp was Alex!

Cordi hadn’t noticed as she accelerated down the road. I remained quiet, shocked.

CHAPTER 14

After we had some drinks and food, including a nice slice of chocolate gateau, we headed to an out-of-town hardware store halfway to the care home.

I would have preferred to have used my own thieves’ tools, but my pack was still with Sapphire, and I hadn’t as yet had time to go back and get them. Still, it was a care home chapel; I doubted I would need my specialist items.

“I have some binoculars in the car. Shouldn’t we get balaclavas or something?” Cordi said as we walked down the tool aisle of a large hardware store. “Maybe some rope and duct tape?”

“We’re not taking hostages, Cordi,” I said, flashing a quick grin. “Unless the bondage dungeon experience has awoken your inner dominatrix?”

Cordi blushed and patted me on the arm. “Enough of that, you, I’m a respectable lady. I was just doing what we had to do to get answers.”

“Did you work like this with Aunt Maggie too? I can imagine she would make quite the wicked mistress.”

“Hah, no, nothing as fun as all this. So what do you need, anyway?”

“Just a few tools.”

I walked down the aisle, picking out the items I thought we’d need: a small tool bag with handles, a set of screwdrivers, chisels, a rubber mallet, a can of WD-40, a craft knife, a glass cutter, and some electrician’s tape.

“Is that everything?” Cordi asked. She looked disappointed.

“What else did you expect?”

“I don’t know, a shovel, axe perhaps.”

“Jesus, Cordi, we’re not burying bodies.”

A staff member at the end of the aisle looked up at us with fear in her eyes.

“We’re just joking around. Got some repairs to do at home,” I said.

The girl laughed nervously and watched us walk to the checkout.

With our supplies purchased, we headed off to the care home. It was still too early, approaching eight p.m. With some time to kill, we stopped off at a pub and made our plans. I also approached the subject of why she and Alex had divorced.

“Unreasonable demands,” Cordi said.

“What kind?”

She mouthed the word
sex.

“He had an overactive libido. And I saw his eye straying too much whenever we were out and about,” she added.

“Did he cheat on you?”

“No, but he probably would have if I didn’t leave him.”

I wanted to approach the subject of him being at Abigail’s, but I couldn’t do that to her. Besides, they weren’t together anymore. There was no point opening old wounds.

We chit-chatted until about eleven thirty p.m. and set off for the care home. We would get there ten minutes early, giving us time to scope out the place and see if Winkle was on to something or as crazy as a bag of squirrels.

***

We arrived on time and approached the home from a narrow country lane.

A thick copse of trees blocked our view. We found a wider section and parked the car safely to the side. I took the binoculars and bag of tools from the trunk and made my way through the trees.

When I came to the edge, I saw the care home at the end of the grounds. It was about a hundred metres away. Amber uplights at the base of the building cast shadows that stretched up the façade like dark ghostly fingers. I scanned across with the binoculars and saw the square building off to the side.

This was the chapel.

We’d approach it by going round the right flank of the grounds, using the large oaks dotted around as cover. I continued to scan the grounds for a few minutes.

“What’s the delay?” Cordi whispered next to me.

“Wait… there. See it?” A beam of light bounced around the left side of the building. “A security guard doing a perimeter check. We’ll wait to see if he comes back around.”

Ten minutes passed and he hadn’t come back. I checked the time on my iPhone. 12:05 a.m. “Okay, follow me,” I said. “We keep quiet at all times. If you hear anyone, don’t panic. Just stay in shadow or cover and wait for them to go about their business.”

“What do we do if the security guard finds us?” she said.

“Run. Most security guards aren’t exactly fit, and they’re not armed here, so we’ll get away easily enough if we have to, but in my experience, most security guards will do a quick sweep and then sit in their office all night watching TV.”

“I hope you’re right,” Cordi said. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m scared.”

“You can stay in the car, if you’d prefer,” I said. “I’m happy to handle this.”

“No, I’ll come. Just because I’m scared, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it. We owe Mr. Bellman’s memory the truth. Besides, I don’t think we’ll find anything.”

“Well, let’s go and see.”

With Cordi following me, we crouch-ran from tree to tree across the grass. Within less than a minute we came to the right edge of the mansion. The stone surface was cool to the touch despite it being a warm night.

The chapel was a newer style brick building, extending thirty feet off the side of the mansion. Thankfully, there was a path to approach on as opposed to gravel.

Cordi stuck with me like glue as we stalked closer in silence. She was keeping an eye out for cameras while I watched the windows. Apart from one light on somewhere deep in the mansion, it seemed everyone was asleep.

When we got closer to the chapel, a low rumble of voices came from behind a wooden door. It had a small stained-glass window at the top, depicting Jesus on a cross.

Dull light flickered behind the glass.

A pair of impenetrable dark windows lay either side, hiding the truth inside.

“Can you hear that?” Cordi whispered into my ear.

“Yeah, there’s definitely someone in there,” I said.

“Seems Winkle was right. What now?”

“I’ll take a peek inside. Stay here and keep watch. Whistle if anyone comes.”

I left Cordi in the shadowed corner where the chapel broke away from the main building and stalked closer to the door. I pressed my ear against the wood and listened. There were at least three, maybe four voices.

Pressing my eye to the keyhole, I looked inside and gasped. Lying on a heavy oak table was Smythe-Johnson in a red robe, his arms tied across his chest with rope.

Four others, in black hooded robes, surrounded him. The one standing to his right and facing me held a dagger. As they raised it up, the candlelight reflected off their face and I saw that it was Leadbetter.

The three others were chanting a terrible dirge.

“No, please,” Smythe-Johnson begged. “There must be another way!”

“Quiet!” Leadbetter screamed. “With this blade, I’ll send you to the afterlife, a gift to He who watches.” Leadbetter’s face twisted with sick murderous glee.

Crap!

I grabbed the door handle and turned it, fully expecting to find the door locked, but to my surprise and relief, the door swung open. I screamed, “No!” as I ran in and launched myself at Leadbetter, jumping over the bound accountant and careening into the nurse at chest height. We both crashed to the floor. I was quicker and stronger and managed to straddle her, pinning her arms to the floor.

“What are you doing?” a voice called out.

Two pairs of hands grabbed me by the arms and dragged me off Leadbetter. She stood up, knife in hand. Smythe-Johnson managed to wriggle off the makeshift altar just as Cordi came in wielding a screwdriver.

“Let her go, you freaks,” Cordi said, aiming the point of her improvised weapon at Leadbetter.

“Wait, everyone just stop,” Smythe-Johnson said. He walked around the robed figures to stand beside Leadbetter and in front of me. He unwrapped the rope from around his wrists, dropping it to the floor.

“What the hell’s going on?” I asked.

Leadbetter shared a secretive look with Smythe-Johnson. He nodded. She sighed and stepped forward, bringing the knife to my throat. My heart raced and I readied to kick out when she pressed against my skin and…

The plastic blade retracted back into the handle.

A prop knife! A fake. A piece of theatre.

“This isn’t what you think,” Leadbetter said.

Smythe-Johnson wouldn’t look me in the eye, and in the flickering candlelight I was sure he blushed with embarrassment.

Cordi stepped forward. “Someone better start explaining things.”

“Is this some weird cult?” I asked.

“No, not quite,” Leadbetter said. Her two robed helpers let go of my hands and removed their hoods. I recognised one of them as the woman who worked in the reception. She too looked embarrassed.

“What, then?” Cordi asked, confusion on her face.

With a deep sigh, Leadbetter explained, “We’re a LARP group.”

“A what?” I asked.

“LARP: Live action role play.”

“And what’s that?” Cordi asked.

“A game,” Leadbetter said. “We, erm… take roles and act them out.”

“So that’s what the tie pin’s all about? It’s not a business club but a game icon?”

Smythe-Johnson looked up and nodded. “Y-y-you can’t tell anyone about this.”

I shook my head, not quite believing all this.

A part of me was disappointed. I thought we had uncovered a big conspiracy, but all we found were a bunch of geeks living out their fantasies. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing, but doing it in a care home chapel wasn’t exactly discreet.

“Well, thanks for nothing,” I said, rearranging my clothes. “You guys better stop doing this; the residents think there’s something weird going on. You’re freaking people out with your games.”

“I’m sure the manager wouldn’t approve of this,” Cordi said, shaking her head.