The Secrets of Palmerston House

by Phillipa Nefri Clark

  It was impossible. No credit card use. No photographs from tollways. Queensland police had spoken to past connections, other photographers, magazines he’d worked for, even the staff at the cemetery where his mother was buried. Nobody recalled seeing him in months.

  “Where are you?” He ground the words out.

  “Sir?”

  Trev turned his chair. “Sorry, constable. Forgot I had company.”

  Constable Jacqui Prentiss grinned as she carried two cups of coffee to the other desk. “Talk to yourself all you want, sir.” She put one coffee in front of Constable Gareth Greetham and sipped the other.

  “I will. I do. You are both going to be bored silly today. Most of the town will be at Palmerston House and just about everything else is good.”

  “Except for the elusive Bernard Cooper. Are you sure I can’t make you a coffee, sir?”

  “Thanks, no. I’m going to get ready soon. And yep, he’s bothering me no end. Would love to have a long chat with him again.”

  “Do you want us to keep an eye on Palmerston House tonight?”

  “Can’t see the need. Have a bit of a drive if you will. Make sure nobody is lost.”

  “Sir? Who’d get lost around here?” Jacqui asked but got no answer, so turned back to her partner.

  Who indeed? Trev would never forget the first time he saw Charlotte, lost in the back roads of town. And now she might be lost to him, if she moved away. Well, tonight he’d ask her to dance and try for one last time to break through the wall she kept up between them. What better place than a wedding?

  “Right, I’m off to get ready. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge.”

  “Any chance of excitement like last time, sir? Quite enjoyed arresting Derek Hobbs that night.”

  “Constable Greetham, if you see Derek Hobbs then please arrest him again. Otherwise, I expect a peaceful evening.”

  Why the nagging feeling in his gut? As he prepared for the wedding, he worried. The empty water bottle near the pond might have been there since Bernie’s time as a guest.

  He reached for his tuxedo but accidentally pulled out the suit he’d worn last night. And stood there, staring at it. Get your act together, Sibbritt. All this talk of bad guys and weddings was messing with his brain. In the inside pocket was the book Lance gave him. He removed it, returned the suit, and took the tuxedo out to lay on the bed.

  Lance had said this book was left behind by a customer. It was a diary, with the year 1853 engraved into its brown leather cover. He deciphered the flowery dedication. This once belonged to Harry Temple, if he was reading it right. Bernie’s infamous diary. Interesting he hadn’t come looking for it. He’d drop it on the constables’ desk on his way out, get them to do some digging.

  ***

  “Dear, have you seen Charlotte?” Elizabeth popped her head around the doorway of Christie’s room. Belinda was in there alone, dressed in an ankle length, sea green dress and doing small twirls before the mirror.

  “Now you mention it, not for ages. Christie invited her up here for hair and face, but maybe she changed her mind.”

  “I wonder where she’s got to. Probably found a quiet spot to read and time has got away from her.”

  “Do you need help with something? I’m going to be dressing the beautiful bride once she emerges from the bathroom, and her matron of honour arrives, but can give you a hand first.”

  “Oh, no need. It is more a case of me keeping track of everyone. I’ll send Martha up once they’re here.”

  “We’ll be waiting. The glorious dress, the spectacular bride, and fabulous me.”

  Elizabeth chuckled to herself as she made her way to the top of the staircase. Belinda had a way of making everything sound more interesting and exciting than it was. Although today there really were no words to properly describe the joy and anticipation surrounding Palmerston House.

  The front door was wide open to welcome the guests. Once Angus was ready, he’d join her in the foyer to greet each one and ensure they had a drink before the ceremony. In the kitchen, Lance and two of his staff were fussing around, ready to have the tables filled by the time the ceremony ended.

  Martha came in, followed by Thomas. They stopped and stared around, then smiled at each other. “Not so long ago this was our reception, my bride.” Thomas kissed Martha as Elizabeth rushed over.

  “You both look wonderful!” She hugged each in turn. “Your dress is perfect.”

  As with Belinda’s, Martha’s sea green dress swirled around her ankles from a narrow waist.

  “She’s like a model, isn’t she?” Thomas was openly admiring and Martha shook her head with a blush. “Now, where’s my dog?”

  “Martin’s dog is with Angus so they’ll be down shortly. Martha, dear, go upstairs. Belinda will need your steadying hand or she’ll cover Christie’s dress in glitter, or butterflies.”

  “And I’ll stay here and keep an eye out for the groom. Shouldn’t he be here?”

  “Soon, I’m sure.” Martha lifted her skirt as she headed for the staircase. “I’ll see you at the ceremony.”

  “Give Christie my love.”

  “Would you care for a glass of something? Champagne perhaps?” Elizabeth reached for a bottle on ice near the door. “I might have one myself!”

  “Let me.” Thomas poured two glasses and handed one to Elizabeth. “To Palmerston House, its rich heritage, perfect location for weddings, and gracious owner.”

  She smiled. “What a sweet toast, thank you.”

  They sipped champagne in the quiet of the foyer. Outside, the sky was darkening and lights flickered on along the driveway. A car turned into the driveway, and then another.

  “And so it begins.” Elizabeth put her glass down on a windowsill. “Would you like to help me meet and greet until Angus comes down?”

  “Honoured to. Then I’ll give the boy a ring if he’s not here. Can’t have the groom late for his own wedding.”

  Chapter Forty

  Several unanswered phone calls later, Thomas went looking for Trev with Randall at his heels.

  Trev was on the phone in seconds. “Goes to voicemail.”

  “Told you. Now, will you come and help find him?”

  “Calm down, Thomas. Most likely he’s left the phone at home and is taking his time walking down. Big thing, getting married.”

  “He’s late. He’s never late.”

  “Okay, I’ll send the constables up to give him an escort.” Trev dialled.

  Martha joined them. “Do you think we should look for him?”

  “Where’s the groom? I need to make sure he looks good enough to marry Christie.” Belinda breezed past, then stepped back. “Why do you all look upset?”

  Trev hung up. “They’ll call back in a couple of minutes. Everyone calm down.”

  “Is Martin not here?” Belinda glanced up at Palmerston House. “Christie’s watching us.”

  “Act natural,” Thomas said. “Why haven’t they phoned yet?”

  Martha grasped Thomas’ hand. “He’s not going to miss his own wedding, dear. There’ll be an explanation.”

  “Besides,” Belinda added, “there is no real start time of the ceremony. It isn’t even dark yet.”

  Randall whined. Thomas drew in a long breath, and scratched behind the dog’s ears. Belinda disappeared to find Elizabeth and Angus and brought them over, filling them in on the way.

  “Should we go and speak with Christie?” Angus asked, noticing she was at the window.

  “Let’s not worry her at this point.” Trev’s phone rang and everyone stared at him as he answered. He walked a few feet away, giving instructions. When he hung up and returned, his expression was stony. “We might need to tell her now.”

  ***

  It took Christie less than three minutes to get out of her wedding dress with the help of Belinda and Elizabeth, and into jeans. By the time she reached the bottom of the staircase, Trev, Angus, Thomas, and Martha were waiting.

  “It’s Berni
e Cooper,” Christie burst out before anyone else spoke. “Trev, you need to find Bernie.”

  “But, dear, why and how would Bernie be able to stop Martin coming to his own wedding?” Martha took Christie’s hand. “Martin is strong, and wouldn’t just go with the man.”

  “There’s something else.” Everyone turned to look at George, who walked in stiffly, his walking stick taking much of his weight. “Our Charlotte hasn’t been seen in a couple of hours.”

  “Charlie?” Trev paled. “She’s not here?”

  “I saw her mid-afternoon. She was going to get some water then shower, and I expected to see her for make-up,” Christie said. “We need to find Martin. And Charlotte. Trev, what do we do?” Christie grabbed Trev’s arm. “I’m going to the house.”

  “Not alone. In fact, I’d prefer everyone stay here. My constables are on their way... and they’re bringing something. I don’t know if it will help.”

  Christie’s legs wouldn’t hold her as coldness gripped her stomach. She sat on the steps. Belinda dropped next to her and rubbed her shoulders. She was barely aware of Trev calling for assistance from Green Bay, a few muffled words drifting back. Missing. Presumed dangerous. Emergency.

  She knew Belinda was there, but couldn’t feel her hands.

  George spoke. She didn’t hear him, only saw his mouth move.

  Angus reached out a hand. Her own hand floated to his of its own will.

  Her eyes roamed until stopping on Martha. Her arms were tightly around Thomas, whose face was white.

  “Thomas.” Christie forced herself to her feet. “Listen.” He struggled to focus. “We’re going to find Martin and he’s okay. You know in your heart he is.”

  “Sir?” Jacqui appeared through the open front door, Gareth not far behind. “Is this it?” She held out the diary.

  “Yes. Listen, we have two missing people now. Charlotte Dean hasn’t been seen for approximately the same time as Martin Blake.” Trev took the diary from her hand and offered it to Christie. “It’s Henry Temple’s.”

  “Umm, sir, if they are both missing, perhaps...”

  “Constable. Start a search immediately.” He guided them away from the group.

  “They didn’t run away together,” Belinda announced. “Silly police person. She obviously has never seen you two together because there is no greater love.”

  “It’s okay. Police stuff. That’s all.” Christie sat again and flicked through the diary, forcing tears down. Somewhere, Martin was dealing with Bernie. Probably Charlotte was there as well. But where? “Was I definitely the last person to see Charlotte?”

  “I think so, dear. Shall we ask around?” Elizabeth, hands gripping each other, stood apart from Angus. He stepped closer and she moved away. Christie frowned. What on earth was going on there?

  “I’ll run and ask everyone. Even the people who don’t know her.” Belinda was off without a backwards glance.

  Martha lowered herself beside Christie on the step. “I’m good with puzzles, child.”

  “Thomas needs you.”

  “Thomas is going to find Randall,” Thomas said. “And we will make ourselves useful. Somehow. So solve the puzzle and tell me where to go looking for my boy.” He turned and walked off to the back of the house.

  “Okay, Auntie. We need to find them. I’m only getting married once, and the groom had better be here before the night is through.”

  ***

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Martin stretched his legs out and leaned against the wall of the cave to prove his point.

  Bernie stalked to the front of the cave and stared out, gun dangling again. It was an old revolver, probably made in the 1840s or 50s. Martin knew a bit about these from George, and didn’t believe it would fire, even if Bernie had managed to load it.

  “Charlotte is ill, Bernie.” He caught Charlotte’s eyes, willing her to follow his lead. “The gag is interfering with her breathing. She has asthma. Come on, mate, take it off, and for that matter, untie her.”

  “You think I’m stupid.”

  “Hardly. In fact, I’m impressed you’ve persisted under such opposition.”

  Bernie turned around.

  “I don’t know how you know you’re Harry’s descendant. Nevertheless, you’ve had a goal and stuck to it. Most people would give up.”

  “Not me.”

  “Not you. Let me untie her and we can plan how to get out of this. Okay?”

  “Lottie likes to analyse me.”

  “Don’t think it’s on her radar right now. She needs to breathe.”

  “Fine. Untie her. But one word of wisdom and I swear I’ll push her over—”

  “Yeah, yeah, we get the point. Thanks, mate.” Martin was at Charlotte’s side before Bernie could change his mind. He worked on the knots. “You’re a good man. Just in a situation out of your control.”

  “My mother used to say something like that.” Bernie lost interest and returned to gazing at the horizon.

  As Martin untied Charlotte, he whispered, “Just agree with him.”

  She nodded. He pulled the gag off and helped her up.

  “No way out through there?” Martin gestured toward the tunnel.

  “Locked from the other side. You should go.”

  “Not without you.”

  “Instead of plotting against me, I’d suggest you work on a way to get me and my treasures safely out of here.”

  “Not a lot of options.” Martin placed himself in front of Charlotte. Her eyes were afraid and he’d felt how shaky she was on her feet. “We can go up or down. Unless you have some dynamite in one of those boxes for the stone door?”

  “I looked before. Harry obviously didn’t see a need at the time.”

  “It was a joke. But is there rope? Any tools?”

  Bernie glared at Martin. “There’s nothing funny about this. If she hadn’t shut the door I’d be on my way and you’d be at your wedding. And if your thieving fiancée had done the right thing, I’d be hosting the wedding with Palmerston House rightfully restored to me.”

  It took every ounce of self-control for Martin to stop himself responding how he wanted to. Once Charlotte was safe he’d make sure he had a nice talk with him. One on one.

  “Is there rope? Tools? Anything useful?”

  “I told you to climb back up and open the door from the other side. That’s the way out and its time you did it.”

  “Not unless Charlotte comes with me.”

  “This is loaded. Mate.” Bernie raised the gun. “I’m done with you stalling. Make the right choice.”

  Chapter Forty-one

  “I hope this will help us, Auntie.” Christie frowned at a page in the diary. “Henry Temple admitted to losing Palmerston House to Eoin Ryan in a poker game. His wife left him. He hid some of his favourite belongings in a secret room – presumably on the other side of the door we can’t get through. Eoin claimed the house earlier than expected and Henry left with little more than his clothes.”

  “And came back a few times, breaking in, from what you read out earlier.” Martha stretched one leg, then the other.

  They still sat on the stairs, poring over the diary. Belinda had reported back that nobody had seen Charlotte since Christie did. This sent Trev into a huddle with his constables and they quickly left. Angus and Elizabeth were outside, quietly relaying the need to delay the ceremony to Daphne without causing the guests to worry.

  “The final time he was caught near the pond. He’d come back for a key.” Christie turned the pages. “Which explains why Bernie spent half a night in the pond. It has to be the key to the stone door.”

  “Can we simply get a locksmith?”

  “George said probably not. He was going to take a look but I’m not sure how he’ll go with the steps.”

  “What does it have to do with Martin and Charlotte though? Surely, if they were in the room, we’d hear them?”

  “This is interesting. There was a longcase clock belonging to Palmerston House. That’s a
grandfather clock? Harry Temple gave it away! Yes, here... oh, he charged two brothers with the care of the clock, for it to remain in their family for all time. I wonder where it is now.”

  “In my shop.”

  Martha and Christie looked up in surprise as George hobbled across the foyer. “It was given to my predecessors and right or wrong, they protected it for all these years.”

  “The clock that was in the cottage?” Martha asked.

  “Yes. My father and Tom’s kept it there for a while, and then it came to the shop. Bernie Cooper recognised it and tried to make me admit my part in the deception. He believed it was rightfully his as well as Palmerston House.” He leaned on his cane, his face lined with regret. “Only a few days ago, I made the decision to return it to where it belongs. Right here, and against this wall.” He pointed to its original position. “Elizabeth doesn’t know yet.”

  “George, is this why you were having problems with Bernie? Did he threaten you?”

  “He made certain statements, Christie. I did wonder if he’d break in at some point, so Trev and I made up a story about getting new security cameras.”

  “When were you last at the shop?”

  “Yesterday. You don’t think—”

  Christie leapt to her feet, handing the diary to Martha. “Keep reading, in case I’m wrong.”

  “Dear, you’re not going looking for them there?”

  “I have to look somewhere, and it makes sense if the clock was important to Bernie. Maybe he wants them to help steal it.” She ran up the stairs. “I’ll just grab my bag.”

  “I’ll get my car, Christie.” George patted Martha’s shoulder. “I doubt they’ll be there, but it gives her something to hope for. Perhaps you can update Trev?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course. Please take care and phone as soon as you know anything.”

  As George went through the front doorway, Belinda burst from the hallway. “Is there any news?”