‘Plenty of anonymous places that would be far less trouble than this,’ said Rendleton easily.
‘Just saying!’ grinned Dex.
Seth was struggling with his share of the weight, which was heavy enough to stop them speaking easily.
But that wasn’t the reason everyone was suddenly silent.
That noise had come again, that small, scratchy-scrapy noise from upstairs. But this time it was followed by a definite thump.
Was everyone thinking the same thing? That sound hadn’t come from birds or mice.
20. Not Exactly Popular
Angelique’sheadbobbedoutofakitchen cupboard. She was dressed in a neat dark suit with a red lining to the jacket and she was staring with curiosity at a jar of pickled onions.
‘I have probably never seen anyone who looked less like a chef,’ said Seth.
He was glad to have delivered the lights. Now Dr Malinger was busy examining the body in the cellar. But he felt incredibly shy of talking to Angelique. He couldn’t help but wonder why she had not kept her promise of staying in touch. Why had he heard nothing from her for weeks?
He really longed to hear all about the cases she’d been working on. Her department was on a longterm quest to investigate all of the forty-two sorcerers Missing Feared Exploded in the Unpleasant. She did secretive and excitingly dangerous work and she possessed unbelievably strong magical ability, even though she was only a couple of years older than Seth.
‘They needed a cook,’ Angelique said simply. She was peering into another cupboard. ‘You probably know where everything is by now. I guess we need eggs and things?’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘How are things? Much better at the Last Chance Hotel now you’re in charge? And without Tiffany?’
Seth hated how even the mention of the name made his stomach clench in a cowardly knot. It also reminded him of the many reasons why he so desperately needed to be magic and how let down he felt by Angelique. He bit back replying that if she was really interested in how he was, why hadn’t she visited?
‘I suppose you’re pretending to be a cook because you’re here cleaning?’ he said. ‘I guess it freaks people out if they think you’re in their home to investigate dangerous magic.’
‘That’s not why I’m here. I came to see you, Seth.’
Why couldn’t she be straight with him and admit what she was really doing here? He understood that magical people felt the need to be secretive. But did he always have to be shut out?
‘Things are pretty much the same with me,’ he said noncommittally. ‘Pewter mentioned you’d hooked up with Stormface. Glad to hear you’ve been making a name for yourself.’
‘Stormforce.’ Angelique gave a small smile. ‘Pewter suggested I make a start on breakfast. Would you help me?’
She stared at the bread he put in front of her in a way that informed Seth that breakfast was going to be down to him.
‘Toast,’ he explained. ‘What is it with people? Am I the only person left alive who cooks anything any more?’ He emptied the fridge of bacon, eggs and sausages and slammed a pan on the stove.
‘Tell me all about what’s happening here,’ began Angelique, frowning as she fiddled with switching on the stove. ‘I’ve heard Mina Mintencress was really young and incredibly wealthy and took on this lighthouse and things have gone badly.’
‘Sounds like you know it all already,’ snapped Seth, watching her load sausages into a fiercely sizzling pan. ‘I guess we’ll soon find out if there’s something more behind her death, although I’d have thought Pewter would want to call in a magical doctor if he wants to see if Mina Mintencress was killed by magic . . . Are there magical doctors?’
‘Pewter’s cousin is one of the best magical doctors. But magical people pretty much die in the usual ways.’
‘So what’s with bringing Prince Charming?’ Seth said as he rescued the sausages, which had started to blacken. ‘Don’t you go anywhere without your new friend?’
‘Actually, it was totally the other way around. It’s his case. I told you, it was just a chance—’
There was a loud yawn behind them and in drifted Celeste, her cap askew, dark glasses on and back in her delicate little pale-blue ballet pumps. ‘Cream cheese and crackers! I could really do with some coffee.’ She sank on to one of the kitchen chairs.
‘I’m Angelique Squerr,’ said Angelique.
Seth went about putting on coffee, while keeping an eye on the frying pan.
‘Don’t mind me,’ said Celeste. ‘Is there any coffee? Pretend I’m not even here. How do you two know each other? Because you sounded like you were having a teensy bit of an argument.’
‘I’m the new cook. And you are?’
Celeste removed her dark glasses to look her up and down disbelievingly. Angelique appeared as immaculate as she always did – her long hair was glossily smooth with a long stripe of red down the right side that matched the lining of her jacket. Her suit was tight-fitting enough to show how lean and fit she was.
‘Really? Good. That means I don’t need to make breakfast.’
‘And you are?’ repeated Angelique, moving closer and looking down her long nose at Celeste, taking in the beautiful white hands and perfect nails spread along the table as she rested her head.
‘Celeste, maid to Mina Mintencress.’
‘Maid? Great, you can help then.’
Celeste lazily stretched out her arm so she could lay her head comfortably on it. ‘Please don’t expect me to be in any state to do breakfast. You have no idea the sort of day I had yesterday – and that bed! I hardly got a wink of sleep.’
‘We all had a bad day with a lot of shocks yesterday,’ said Seth. He had heard plenty of snoring coming from Celeste’s room, which was next to his. ‘But Celeste particularly,’ he added kindly, giving her a smile. ‘And I think you need to change your shoes again.’
He pushed both Celeste and Angelique a cup of coffee, with a jug of cream and a sugar bowl. Celeste poured in a generous glug of cream and four lumps of sugar without lifting her head, but looked down at her gorgeous little blue shoes and wiggled her toes. ‘Oh, I’ve put the wrong shoes on again, haven’t I? Believe me,’ she said, stirring, ‘it’s not every day your boss gets murdered. It gets you all muddled up.’
‘Iknowshewasn’texactlypopular.But murdered?’ said Angelique, wrinkling her nose.
‘We don’t know yet,’ said Seth, beginning to cook eggs and brown toast.
‘Not popular?’ declared Celeste stoutly. ‘She was incredibly brave to take on an ambitious project and restore this lighthouse to something spectacular. She had to constantly stand up to Lark, and then her lawyer tried to stick his nose in. If Lark thought the lighthouse was so awful, she could have taken off, couldn’t she? Is that bacon ready yet? I’m starved.’
The trouble was the Mintencress millions, thought Seth. Lark couldn’t really go off on her own, she had no money. At least . . . not until Mina had died.
‘That irritating Brockler was always talking to Jo and getting all these terrible lurid stories about this place. Gave him ideas. Everyone became convinced there was something wrong here.’ A big glassy tear appeared in the corner of Celeste’s eye.
‘You really should go back to bed,’ insisted Seth. ‘I’ll bring you something on a tray. Leave the coffee. Why don’t I make you some chamomile tea? It might help you rest.’
Celeste’s eyes were dark and ringed with grey smudges. ‘Don’t you need me?’
Seth smiled kindly at her. ‘Course I do, it’s why you have to look after yourself. No one’s expecting you to do anything today. We’ve got a cook!’
Seth felt Angelique nudge him and she slid a plate heaped with breakfast in front of Celeste. Seth hoped everyone liked their bacon really crispy. Then Angelique did the same for Seth, sliding him another loaded plate.
‘Eat,’ she instructed. ‘Then I want to tell you about—’
There was a noise from the cellar, which extended below them, and Celeste le
apt to her feet. ‘What was that?’ Her over-large dark eyes turned fearful.
It would be Dr Malinger, Dex, Pewter and Rendleton coming up the steps. Any minute now they’d be here and they’d probably deliver more upsetting news.
Perhaps Celeste had worked this out too, as she practically threw down her cutlery and raced to her room. Seth shoved in another mouthful of his own eggs and bacon – he hadn’t realized how hungry he was.
Dr Malinger came in first, wiping her hands and looking grim. She was followed by a serious-looking Pewter.
‘Hope we did a good enough job with the lights?’ said Rendleton. ‘You were very quiet down there. Didn’t know as how you could tell anything for sure.’
He sounded anxious. But then it was going to be a big deal if the doctor had found any evidence there had been foul play.
But Dr Malinger was nodding. ‘Oh yes. I know exactly how she died.’
‘I’d imagine it’s difficult to work out with just a quick look,’ went on Rendleton. ‘I guess she drowned, but was it—’
Dr Malinger cut him off with a withering look.
‘What we’d really like to know is if it is possible to even tell if there was anything suspicious about her death,’ said Pewter.
‘Oh yes. Miss Mintencress’s death was most definitely murder. How can I be so sure with just a quick look? Because she didn’t drown, Inspector – she was strangled.’
21. Alone At the Top of a Lighthouse
Jo appeared, loaded up a plate and started to eat hungrily at the kitchen table. ‘It’s a proper mystery, innit?’ she said with relish, slathering her plate with brown sauce. ‘She was alone in the top of this lighthouse. And the door was locked. Spooky or what!’
That was it. Seth was now convinced magic had to be at the bottom of it. Strangled? Alone in a locked room at the top of a lighthouse? He looked at Jo and was keen to learn what stories she might have shared. Had the local people any suspicions that this lighthouse had once been home to a sorcerer?
‘Is everyone thinking what I’m thinking – that this is the work of the ghost?’ went on Jo. ‘Be nice to have a tea to wash all this down. Any chance? I mean, I will have coffee if there isn’t.’
Seth made tea. He thought of Celeste’s determined face: Let’s find out which one of the rotters killed her. Somehow they’d both known there was more to her death than it had appeared.
Dexter Stormforce’s finely chiselled face had been the last to emerge from the cellar, looking less rugged and more a chalky white. Rendleton put his hand firmly on Dex’s shoulder and began talking about the urgency of inspecting storm damage.
‘Need to get a proper fix on that brickwork. We’ll start outside. You look like you could do with a blast of fresh air, mate.’
Dex’s eyes had the desperate look of someone looking for an escape. But Rendleton had him in a grip that wasn’t going to be easy to wriggle out of and Dex was steered away in a drift of conversation about structural damage, loose pipes and rendering. He made a feeble request for breakfast.
‘I have two suggestions,’ said Pewter, hauling a huge platter of bacon from where it had been warming, and steering Dr Malinger towards the dining room. ‘One, we leave breaking the news to everyone else until after breakfast. Two, maybe save a rasher or two for Stormforce. I think he might need it.’
Seth called Pewter back to hand him some coffee, and managed to say in his ear, ‘But Inspector, no one could have strangled her. She was alone at the top of the lighthouse. We had to break down the door.’
‘Fascinating, isn’t it?’
When Brockler, Lark and Alfie all finally made their way to the dining room, it occurred to Seth that the upstairs rooms were clear.
Slipping past the dining room unseen, he sprinted for the room at the top of the lighthouse. He thought he’d been really stealthy, but when he turned he saw Angelique closing in about six steps behind him.
‘What are you up to, Seth?’ she demanded once she got to the top, setting her black jacket straight and tucking her silver-topped cane under her arm after her dash up the spiral stairs.
Seth cautiously pushed open the door of the top-floor bedroom. ‘I knew there was something suspicious about her death,’ he said. ‘But I’ve no idea how it was done. What could we have missed?’
He turned and saw Angelique’s eyes widen as she took in the floor-to-ceiling windows and the gaudy décor; the frilly lilac drapes around the four-poster bed that had been shoved to one side of the room, the huge twirly silver-framed mirror that would suit a ballroom better, and the wallpaper patterned with a flock of birds, damaged by the storm. Then there was the hastily covered-over hole in the brickwork.
‘I presume a Disney princess is coming to stay.’
‘Lark’s responsible for the furnishing,’ Seth sighed. ‘To make her feel involved. Mina seems to have been a kindly sort like that.’ He first double checked that the lock on that door really had been busted when Rendleton had shouldered his way through.
‘Perhaps it’s Lark who should have been murdered,’ said Angelique, her gaze sweeping the room and lingering over an untidy dressing table and its litter of opened bottles, face cream and lotions; powder spilled across the top. Valuable-looking rings and bracelets had been haphazardly discarded.
Seth was already in the bathroom, picking up each of the expensive glass bottles of bath foam and luxurious hair conditioner, unscrewing each lid and taking a sniff. He was disappointed that all of them seemed regular scents – cherry blossom and strawberry – because he was remembering that sour smell. Did that mean it hadn’t been the bath foam?
‘She was strangled, Seth, not poisoned.’
‘But how could she have been? There was a smell in here yesterday, like a strong citrusy tang. Nothing like these expensive products.’
‘I don’t think a smell is going to tell us how she was strangled.’
Angelique had been drawn to one of the huge windows that gave out on to the mesmerizing view.
‘It is spectacular, isn’t it?’ said Seth. ‘You should have seen the waves and the sky in the storm last night. It was better than watching a movie. Until we actually got struck by lightning, of course.’
‘And one of the family died.’
‘Yes. There is that.’
‘A very unlucky family. What’s your feeling, Seth?’
‘There is definitely something weird about the whole place,’ he responded eagerly. ‘You can explain accidents, things moving about, electrics failing. But Soul Snakesmouth was a sinister sorcerer who disappeared about eight years ago, presumed dead.’
He knew the way Angelique worked. Her silver-topped red cane was a magical instrument. He’d seen her flip up the top and poke in corners and zap everything with a crackle of blue light and then take readings. Apparently, magic left invisible ripples that disturbed the air, and that’s how she knew if magic had been used recently.
He stopped, because Angelique barely seemed to be listening, but also, she wasn’t zapping everything.
Were there traces of magic in this room? Pewter had told him S3 knew about Soul Snakesmouth and the lighthouse had been cleaned. But might the magic have returned – if magic returned – or been brought back somehow? And then there was the ghost . . .
‘You seem to have got very friendly with that girl in a short time,’ said Angelique. ‘Celeste is a suspect, you know.’
Seth looked at her in disbelief. ‘Celeste was with me when Mina Mintencress died. They were more like best friends than anything.’
‘Mina was an incredibly rich heiress. I’d say this is less likely to be about magic and more about the fact that she’s got squillions of cash. I wonder, does Celeste get anything in her will?’
It was a good question. Seth knew Celeste had been with Mina for years. Lark had been left something; it seemed obvious Celeste would have been too. Seth hesitated, as Angelique seemed to have too much curiosity about the maid, and he wanted to ask all about the cleaning.
‘Can’t you just zap the room with your divinoscope and check if magic has been used recently?’ he suggested. ‘It was home to a sorcerer. I know it was cleaned, but there could be some magic left here. She died in a locked room, but was strangled. Could that have been done by magic?’
‘Really sophisticated magic, maybe.’ Angelique shrugged. Then wrinkled her nose. ‘I’ve never been into somewhere already cleaned before.’
‘And there’s something wrong about it?’ he asked hopefully
‘It just doesn’t have the feel I’d expect . . .’ She shook her head. ‘But you are imagining a big plot, Seth. Before you go running away with too many ideas, remember – you think that magic is much cleverer and more powerful than it is. Magic is limited to the skill and power of the sorcerer using it. Killing someone like you described, alone at the top of the lighthouse . . .’ She gave her head a little shake and turned from the windows and the glorious view. ‘One of our really experienced agents, Copious Bladderwrack, cleaned this, Seth. I think we might be looking for a more regular explanation.’
‘You think there’s really a ghost?’
Angelique threw him a scornful look. ‘Not entirely what I meant by regular. I mean, all those disturbances are much more likely down to someone deliberately playing games. Although, it’s interesting . . . You are always very observant. Anything else strike you?’
She was waiting, and Seth considered. She might be right about the ghosts being someone deliberately setting out to jinx the project. That was pretty much what Mina had suspected. If someone had staged those accidents – could they also have found a way to cause Mina’s death?
The Bad Luck Lighthouse Page 9
