Silent as the Grave (19 page)

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Authors: Bill Kitson

BOOK: Silent as the Grave
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‘OK, that's her disposed of. I thought she looked at me as if there was a dead fish under her nose.'

Charlie laughed. ‘You mustn't take it personally, Adam. She looks at everybody that way.'

‘What about their children?'

Charlie made a grotesque gesture of distaste and did a passable imitation of his father's cousin, ‘Come along kids, come and play with cousin Charles.' Charlie switched voices and I knew it was their mother speaking. ‘Yes do play with him, children; remember, he'll be
Sir
Charles one day.'

‘OK, Charlie I get the message; you don't care for them?'

‘Maybe it's not their fault. You don't get to choose your parents, do you?'

‘So,' I asked him. ‘What about Colin Drake and his ugly ducklings?'

Charlie giggled. ‘Ah,' he said, ‘I wondered when we were going to get to the scandal.'

‘What scandal's that?'

‘It's about his wife really, although Colin has to share a bit of the blame. The problem is she's a loony.'

‘Charlie, to most twelve-year-olds all adults are loonies. Can you be more specific?'

‘You have a point,' he grinned. ‘Well, she has a couple of problems. One's to do with drink. She's an alky. She lost her driving licence a couple of years ago. She got smashed then the car got smashed. She was fined a thousand pounds and had her licence taken away.'

‘Oh dear,' I said. ‘That sounds bad. It's a hefty fine, is that, even for drink-driving.'

‘I know, but that's not all she's been in court for. She's had a couple of shoplifting convictions as well.'

‘Really?' I said. ‘She doesn't look the type. What do your mum and dad say?'

Charlie laughed. ‘When Pa told Ma about the fine for drink-driving Ma said, “She should be able to get the money easily enough”, I thought that was pretty funny for Ma.'

‘Is it a medical condition then?'

‘Which one? The boozing or the nicking things? Both, I reckon. The shrinks are treating her for the theft; that was part of the terms of her conviction. She had to accept that or go inside. We were banned from making convict jokes.' There was a wistful tone in Charlie's voice and I could imagine some of the wisecracks. Children can be very cruel.

‘She always swipes something when she's here. Ma and Pa know about it. When Colin gets home the first thing he does is search her case and handbag. He returns whatever's been nicked a few days later.'

‘It must be difficult for him having to live with the potential problem all the time.'

‘Yes, but you have to remember it was partly his fault.'

‘You said that earlier; what exactly did you mean?'

‘We all thought Colin was just a bit wet and hopeless, dominated by her until about three years ago. Ma and Pa were in a great flap about something they'd read in the papers. They wouldn't let any of us see them.'

‘How did you find out?'

Charlie smiled triumphantly. ‘I got a copy of the paper from Frank Marsh, even though he'd been told not to let us have it.'

‘How did you manage that?'

‘I threatened to tell Pa I'd seen Frank watching the girls sunbathing.'

‘You didn't really, did you? Was it true?'

‘No of course not, I made it up.'

‘Charlie, that's blackmail; you shouldn't do that.'

‘I know, I know, Sammy and Becky gave me a real telling-off about it.'

‘What was in the newspaper that was so terrible?'

‘Colin works for a bank and he'd been having an affair with one of the cashiers. In the end she got pregnant and the whole business finished up in the paper.'

‘I can quite see why your parents didn't want a nine-year-old to read that over breakfast,' I told him. ‘I can imagine some of the lurid headlines.'

‘Yes, they were quite funny. It was shortly after that when his wife's problems started to get worse. She never appears to be out of her tree, but she's never completely sober either. You'll have noticed she wears a fairly hefty perfume. That's to disguise the smell of the drink.'

‘What about their children?'

‘I feel sorry for them,' Charlie said seriously. ‘From what I've gathered their mother and father are always rowing. It can't be much fun for Sean and Andrea.'

‘OK, so that disposes of the family. What about your mum's friend, Polly?'

Charlie looked at me slyly. ‘What do you want to know about Polly for?'

‘Because I'm trying to get to know more about everyone staying in the castle,' I told him.

‘Polly likes two things,' Charlie told me. ‘She likes men and she likes money. She likes them both a lot more if they come together in the same package.'

‘Is that it?' I asked.

‘Just about. Except that I reckon she'd do just about anything to get her hands on either one.' I hesitated before asking Charlie my next question, but decided to go ahead. The boy had wisdom and commonsense beyond his years, which was what convinced me. ‘This family curse business and the insanity that everyone seems reluctant to talk about: do you think there's any truth in it, or is it superstition?'

‘Oh, yes,' Charlie answered nonchalantly. ‘It's true all right – in the past, certainly. Do you know about Sir Henry, my great-grandfather, the one whose mother supposedly legged it with her lover?'

‘I've read about him in that stuff your mum sent me.'

‘I bet it didn't mention what happened to his younger brother, Albert?'

‘No,' I agreed, ‘his name wasn't mentioned.'

‘I didn't think it would be. Albert was committed to an asylum when he was thirty years old and remained there for the rest of his life. According to what I heard he was absolutely off his trolley.'

‘Do you know why he was put away?'

‘He walked up to a complete stranger in the centre of York and beat him unconscious. They reckon it took five men to restrain him. When the time came to try him, they found he was completely gaga.'

‘Oh, dear, that's sad.'

‘Yes, I bet Sir Henry thought so too. He had to support Albert's wife and children for the rest of their lives. They became like permanent lodgers at the castle.'

‘I suppose that is a bit of evidence, but you could find that in any family if you look hard enough.'

‘Oh, that isn't the worst. Not by a long way.' It was clear Charlie was enjoying himself.

‘How do you mean, Charlie?'

‘A couple of generations before, another member of the clan topped himself. His name was Maximillian Rowe.'

‘Do you know why he did that?'

‘It might have had something to do with the fact that he was in prison awaiting trial. The prison warders went into his cell one morning and there he was, swinging in the breeze. He'd hanged himself from the bars with his sheets.'

‘What was he being tried for, do you know that?'

Charlie did, but he was enjoying dragging out the suspense. ‘According to the gossip, he took a fancy to one of the female guests staying in the castle and imprisoned her in his room until he'd had his wicked way with her. I'm not sure whether she enjoyed it or not, but her husband took great exception to what went on.'

‘Charlie, how come you know all these obscure details that nobody else seems aware of?'

‘I'm too young to be allowed to go shooting, but Pa started letting me go beating this season. All the other beaters and the loaders are either estate workers or live around Mulgrave village. They love telling me tales about the family; the more lurid the better. That's how I know so much about William and Roland, the un-heavenly twins. The guys think those stories are funny – I think they're great! Luckily, Pa doesn't know I've heard them. He wouldn't be pleased.'

Chapter Sixteen

I matched my guard stride for stride as we marched down the two flights of stairs from Charlie's room to the ground floor. We turned to the right; wheeling as correctly as ballroom dancers and headed for the library, where we knew we would find Becky's twin sister Sammy searching the bookshelves along with her Aunt Evie for the fabled Rowe family history.

I opened the door and we strode confidently into the room to find emptiness and silence. The library was deserted. Becky and I looked at other in consternation. ‘Where are they, Adam?' Becky asked, perplexed.

‘I've no idea,' I responded, ‘let's go back upstairs. We'll try Eve's room first.' We tried Eve's room, then the twins' room, then their parents' room, then their brother's room but without success. Eventually, more from desperation than expectation we tried my room. Eve was sitting alongside her niece under the window, examining a slim blue volume.

‘Where the devil have you been?' I demanded. ‘Becky and I have been worried stiff! We've searched this house from top to bottom looking for the pair of you. I wish you would tell anyone when you're going to change your plans like that. You might stop people getting worked up into thinking the worst.'

‘I'm so sorry,' Eve said, sarcastically. ‘I didn't realize every move I made had to be reported to you and logged in. For future reference I intend going to the toilet in seventeen minutes' time, if that meets with your approval.'

I flushed with annoyance. I could feel my cheeks getting hotter as the anger spread through me. I thought of several replies: a killer roaming loose, the history of the place, the recent murders, and rejected all of them. Instead I turned on my heel and walked out of the room. Even Becky was so taken by surprise at my sudden withdrawal that she failed to follow me. I walked downstairs, through the dining hall and the kitchen and out of the castle. I paused only to stick my feet into a pair of wellington boots, thrust a flat cap on my head, and collect a Barbour jacket. I knew there was something I had to examine urgently before it was too late. I didn't stop to think that I was now outside the building, alone. Only two others had ventured outside Mulgrave Castle on their own: and neither had returned …

I owe my life to fortune; fortune and Becky Rowe. I reached the chapel after blundering through the fog for a while. To be honest I was seething with anger; anger at Eve for her unreasonable and careless attitude. It had provoked me into a recklessness I didn't know I possessed. I reached the chapel and began inspecting the footprints in the snow. This time I looked far more carefully. On the previous visit I had only looked at the prints to see how many people had come and gone from the chapel. This time I wanted to find out more. I wanted to know if the footprints were those of a man; a woman, or a child. I was kneeling down peering at the mass of interposed prints in dismay; the thaw had blurred the edges and they were now indistinguishable one from the other. The prints could have been those of a man, a woman, or a child; equally they could have been those of a Yeti.

It was as I was looking at the footprints that I heard Becky calling my name. That sound helped to save me. I looked up and saw a dark shadow swooping towards me. I ducked instinctively and the blow that was intended to kill me only glanced my temple. It was enough. In my weakened state I would have been defenceless against further attack had my bodyguard not appeared on the scene. I felt my senses swim and knew I was losing consciousness. As I crumpled to the ground I heard Becky close by, calling me; imploring me to answer. I felt hands on my body dragging me; and as if from far away I heard Becky's voice again. Then everything went black.

I felt myself returning to consciousness. Something in my poor, abused brain was sending out a warning against so rash a course of action. Unfortunately, the rest of my body ignored this sensible advice. Pain was the first sensation. Naturally; what else? I tried opening my eyes. They attempted to focus. They tried hard. I wished they wouldn't; but they did. When my surroundings came into some semblance of focus I realized I was in my room.

‘Gran,' I heard a voice cry out, ‘Adam's waking up.'

I recognized it as Becky's voice. I wished she wouldn't shout. Or, if she did shout, would she please shout at the person hammering six-inch nails into the side of my head and tell them to stop.

A face came into view, bending over me; then another. Becky and Sammy, I thought and congratulated myself on the feat. I thought it would be a good idea to speak. They looked worried and perhaps if I spoke it would reassure them, ‘Hello Sammy; hello Becky,' I spoke. Or rather I shouted. Why was I shouting too? Why was everyone shouting?

Then I realized, they weren't shouting; it was my feeble condition that made it seem as if they were. My plan to reassure them by speaking didn't seem to have worked because both girls appeared more concerned rather than less. Then Sammy vanished and I saw Charlotte bending over me in her place. ‘Hello, Your Ladyship,' I greeted her. ‘How did I get here; what happened?'

‘You were attacked outside the chapel,' she told me, ‘you've got a bump the size of an egg on the side of your head; a goose egg,' she added. ‘You're lucky to be alive.'

‘I don't feel lucky,' I told her. Memory of the event began to return, though not in a flood, more in a trickle. ‘Becky saved my life,' I said, smiling. ‘Not once but twice. She called out and I looked up in time to see what was about to hit me and ducked. Otherwise I don't think I'd be here. After they hit me I felt myself being dragged along. I think they were planning on taking me somewhere out of the way to finish me off. The last thing I remember is Becky's voice calling out again. She must have been close by because they dropped me. Then I passed out.' I closed my eyes; after all it had been a long speech for me.

Harriet took up the tale. ‘Becky set off after you, realized you'd gone outside, and followed. She found you unconscious and bleeding. At first she thought you were dead; then she saw you were breathing and started screaming for help.'

I looked up at Becky. ‘You must have screamed very loud for it to be heard inside the castle.'

‘It wasn't, not in that sense of the word,' Harriet told me calmly. ‘Sammy sensed there was something wrong and insisted we set off to find you. You know how it is with twins sometimes.'

‘Where's Eve?' I asked.

‘She was upset; furious as well. She said she didn't see the point in trying to nurse you and get you better when you insist on continuously taking such foolish risks and breaking your own rules. She stalked off in a huff and was last seen heading for her room. To be honest, the girls told me what happened and I reckon she's feeling guilty because she provoked it. The problem is you'll never get Eve to admit she's guilty of anything, let alone apologize for it.'

I opened my eyes and smiled at Becky. ‘Thank you seems inadequate,' I told her. ‘I owe my life to you.'

‘Perhaps that helps even the score,' Harriet said with a smile. ‘After all, none of us believe Charlie would have survived had it not been for you, so Becky's just paying a bit of our debt to you back.'

‘Would you help me sit up?' I asked them. ‘I can't stay an invalid for ever.'

‘Are you sure?' Harriet asked. ‘Remember you've only just recovered from your last bout of concussion. What about a relapse?'

Strangely enough that didn't worry me. Apart from the headache I felt OK. ‘I think I'll be all right. All I need is some painkillers for my head and I should be able to get up. It must have been no more than a glancing blow.'

‘Some glance,' Harriet commented, as she and Becky helped me into a sitting position. I closed my eyes for a moment and waited for the pain to subside. After a moment or two I pretended that it had, and opened my eyes. My vision was clear and there was no lack of focus. I actually felt better for sitting up.

‘I'm fine,' I reassured them. ‘Just give me a few minutes and I'll get off this bed.'

‘Do you really think that's wise?' Harriet was still dubious.

‘Harry, I'm getting a bit tired of being the target for some maniac. I want to find out who's behind this and why, and I can't do that lying in a darkened room.'

Sammy had been sent on ahead to tell Tony we were coming downstairs. The twins mounted guard outside his study door whilst I discussed matters with their parents. ‘The sooner we get to grips with our problems the better,' I told them. ‘I'm more and more convinced that the secret of what's been happening is something to do with the old chapel. It's where Beaumont and Rathbone were killed and close to where I was attacked. Can either of you think of anything about the chapel that might provide some clue as to the reason for the murders?'

‘Not unless somebody in this house has developed some form of religious mania,' Harriet suggested, ‘and I for one, have seen no evidence of that.'

‘There's nothing within the chapel of special significance or value, is there?'

‘You mean a religious artefact of some description?' Tony asked.

‘Something like that.'

‘Nothing that I can think of. The chapel's only ever been used for private family worship from the time it was built.'

‘Charlie told me about that,' I said with a grin. ‘He said your ancestors were a pair of real villains.'

‘Yes they were, according to the legends about them,' Tony agreed. ‘Anyone less likely than William and Roland to sponsor the building of a place of worship it would be difficult to imagine.'

‘I'm sure the other crucial key to the mystery lies within that family ledger, if it exists and can be found. So for now I'm going to concentrate on looking for that.'

When I left them I set off for the library with my two escorts alongside. Inside the room we were met by Eve. She was already at work searching for the book. She looked pale and there was a tight expression on her face as if she was containing some strong emotion. ‘Hello, Evie,' I greeted her as if nothing untoward had happened between us. ‘Great minds think alike; Sammy, Becky, and I were about to start looking for that book as well.'

Eve nodded distantly. ‘Better get on with it, then,' her tone was cool to the point of aloofness. ‘There's plenty to go at.'

She indicated the long expanse of shelves we had not yet touched. With four of us on the job the work proceeded quickly. There was a tense, strained atmosphere between Eve and me. On previous occasions, I had attempted to defuse any potentially explosive confrontations. This time however, I was prepared to allow matters to take their own course. If Eve wanted a fight, she could have one. If she wanted to sever the close relationship that had been building up between us that was her prerogative. I wasn't about to force the issue.

By late afternoon we were almost through with the task and still we had seen no sign of the elusive volume. In deference to my less-than-perfect physical condition, Eve had assumed responsibility for the upper shelves. She had done this at the beginning with the tersest of comments. When I had prepared to climb the ladder she had almost thrust me to one side. ‘I'll do that. You're in no fit state to go up and down ladders.'

I didn't attempt to argue, merely turned aside and started work on the lower shelves. Out of the corner of my eye however I saw Eve bite her lip in frustration. That strengthened my resolve to avoid a slanging match. It was as we searched the final set of shelves that near-disaster happened. Eve had positioned the ladder and begun work on the top shelf; positioned it badly as it turned out. I had completed looking at the lowest shelf on that section and was standing near the ladder easing the kinks out of my spine. I watched appreciatively as Eve climbed the five rungs that she needed to reach the top shelf. She really did have a superb figure.

It was as well that I was ogling her, for I noticed the ladder move sideways, possibly as quickly as Eve felt it move. Left with the choice of going down with the ladder or jumping overboard, Eve opted to leap clear. Towards me, as it happened – but fortunately, I was forewarned that she was about to throw herself at me, and braced myself to catch her.

I staggered back a couple of strides until my thighs came in contact with the table and I found myself lying across it with Eve in my arms on top of me. As I went down across the table the back of my head hit the far edge. I winced with the fresh pain, but the contact was slight enough to cause no more than momentary discomfort. For a moment we remained motionless, our eyes meeting from no more than a few inches apart. I realized my arms were clasped around Eve in an embrace any lover would have been proud of. I watched as a host of unreadable expressions chased across her face reflected in her lovely eyes. Tension built as the seconds passed with neither of us moving. ‘Are you all right?' I asked.

It broke the spell and Eve freed herself from my grasp and stood up. ‘Yes, I think so,' she said as she stood upright. ‘How about you?'

I realized I was holding her hands. I didn't let go. ‘Yes, I'm OK. I just banged my head on the edge of the table but it's nothing to worry about.'

‘Thank you for being there,' she said; her tone as dispassionate as if she was talking to a stranger.

‘No problem,' I replied. ‘You can fall for me any time you like.'

She released her hands and turned away and I became aware of the twins watching us open-mouthed. ‘It's a new acrobatic routine we're practicing. We thought we'd try it out here before we audition for the circus.'

Sammy and Becky grinned and we all returned to work. I remembered that brief few seconds when Eve had lain in my arms before I'd spoken. For one moment I thought she was going to kiss me, then the next I thought she had been about to slap me. That was the problem. I never knew from one second to the next with Eve; whether the passion that blazed in those beautiful eyes was love or hate. Then in the space of a breath she seemed totally indifferent.

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