As I read, I had a feeling that had they been asked, they could have provided the court with stories of many similar incidents related to bullying – and worse, but with less fatal consequences – in their own lives by sons and daughters of the aristocracy. Regarding their testimonies, I suspected that their validity as witnesses was also doubtful. Even those who might have seen what happened realised what was at stake if Lady Vantry was offended by their testimonies and were fearful of losing their jobs and being dismissed without a reference. It did not take long for this jury to make up their minds. They weren’t inclined to give a guilty verdict and sentence an ill-used young lass to the gallows on such evidence as existed. Hence the accusation of murder received the not-proven verdict.
Before returning the file, I made a note of two sisters, Mavis and Ellen Boyd, scared servants whose testimonies had varied and whose tears had irritated the judge. Both were young and it seemed that they were upset because they were fond of Sarah, who in their own words: ‘was always nice to us’. They lived at Kilchattan and although it was doubtful if they were still at the same address twenty years later, it might be worth investigating.
Heading back to the hotel, I met Sadie, who said she had needed a few things and had decided to do some shopping, remembering the old shops, all of which had changed hands over the years, or, their owners deceased, had passed to their children.
‘Thank goodness,’ she added, ‘they all took it that I was on holiday, or a tourist and this was my first visit.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘Some of them were younger than me and had probably never heard of Sarah Vantry. I was quite safe and they were all very nice and hoped I would enjoy my stay.’
We were passing by the picture house and hoping to lead her into more cheerful subjects, I asked: ‘What was the film like, did you enjoy it?’
She looked at me blankly. I thought obviously the horrendous encounter with Uncle Godwin had eradicated it from her mind. Then she smiled, remembering.
‘Oh yes, it was delightful. Rescued by Rover, all about a dog, and it was the director Cecil Hepworth who also acted in it with his entire family, his wife and baby daughter, as well as the wee dog that made it all the more exciting, as if it was really happening. You would love it, Rose, it would remind you of Thane. I was glad we didn’t miss it.’
‘What happened the other night, the first time?’ I didn’t want to remind her that she hadn’t told me then about the sold-out tickets and let me believe she and Harry had been at the cinema. A lie, in fact, or an evasion of the truth. Again, it wasn’t my business, she was a woman, and Harry was a single man too, but on this so-called holiday and for the task she had set me, I realised I was taking on her actions as my responsibility.
She thought for a moment, then said glibly: ‘We had a good long walk and stopped off at a cafe for ice cream. I thought I told you.’
I shook my head. ‘I’m glad it wasn’t a completely wasted evening.’
She gave me an anxious look. ‘He has promised to have Gerald take me out sailing in one of their boats. I’d like that, if we have time to spare, I mean.’ A pause. ‘It would be such a treat.’
I said I was sure it could be arranged.
The hotel was in sight and although pleased with the morning’s work on the police file, I had a strange feeling that I was missing something and that Sadie was telling me more than one white lie.
A pony and trap was parked outside. I had noticed it outside the stables during our Vantry visit and its presence indicated that Edgar and Beatrice had been shopping, otherwise they would have used the carriage. Presumably they were being considerate and saving Angus, who was also the coachman, having to wait for them as they had lunch in the restaurant.
Sadie didn’t want to meet them. She whispered: ‘I’ll get something later when they’ve gone.’ She was heading towards Harry’s office. ‘I bought him a little gift, he has been so good to us.’
To you, not us, I thought, as I went upstairs to the bathroom. From my bedroom window, I noticed a man walking back and forth beside the parked pony and trap. His vigilant manner suggested impatience and determination and I realised he had been there when we came in, standing by the entrance, his face concealed as he read a newspaper.
Now he was looking up at the hotel. The adjacent pony and trap meant only one thing: that he was waiting for the Worths to emerge. And there they were, being served by a waiter as I walked through the restaurant. They nodded politely, greetings were exchanged but I was not ready to take a seat at their table. I would wait for Sadie, who would certainly have no wish to join them.
As I went back upstairs to my room, I thought about the man outside. Perhaps he was a servant, but he was too well dressed for that, and looking out of my window overlooking the entrance, even from a distance with his face no longer kept hidden by that concealing newspaper, I knew I had seen him before.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
This was the man we had met on the Vantry drive, the visitor who had no wish to be seen and had leapt into the shelter of the rhododendron bushes. After washing my hands, I went to summon Sadie, but her room was empty. Back at the window, I looked out again, but he had vanished, and so had the Worths and their pony and trap.
If only I had kept watch. I was furious that I had missed those last few moments and their encounter with this waiting man. Now I would never know the reason why such a well-dressed man had not gone into the hotel to talk to them and why he had wanted to keep his presence secret.
With an exasperated sigh, I swore and picked up my notes from the police file on Sarah Vantry’s trial. I remembered and had noted in particular the reported behaviour of the Boyd sisters, whose testimony the police had found unsatisfactory. The elder, Mavis, had been lady’s maid to Lady Vantry, and their home at Kilchattan, I discovered from the large map in the hotel’s reception, was in the south of the island near St Blane’s.
I already had a curious feeling about that area, and remembering Sadie’s childhood, a kind of intuition that it might hold useful information or even dark secrets. At the back of my mind I was hoping the sisters might remember something, provide some clue from Sadie’s past.
I dined alone that evening and after a solitary breakfast, with ominous feelings regarding Sadie’s absence from both meals, went into the hotel library. Gerald came in while I was studying the wall map. He said cautiously that Sadie had not been down yet and although he did not mention it, because Harry was also absent I could not help considering that the two were together.
Gerald was asking cheerfully where I was thinking of going today. When I said St Blane’s, he shook his head and said that some of the approach roads were poor and others almost non-existent.
His worried frown suggested that his main worry was concern at the prospect of a lady guest driving the hotel motor car I had booked for hire that day. He said rather weakly with little enthusiasm: ‘I could drive you there.’ And with a glance skyward: ‘The weather is looking none too promising. Unfortunately, there are urgent matters I have to attend to this morning.’
That was fine by me. I wanted to go alone, the last thing I wanted was to have Gerald’s company and his curiosity about my own behaviour as to why I wished to search out Vantry former servants.
When I thanked him politely for his offer, he became very businesslike and leading me over to the map, pointed out the easiest route to take.
I had rather fancied the road down the coast, with maybe a glimpse of Mount Stuart, but he hastened to say that route would not be pleasant as the wind, which was strong, would be in my face all the way. I would be advised to take the more sheltered inland road down through Townhead and branching off at Kingarth. He assured me that there were plenty of signposts but not all the roads were easily negotiable for drivers new to the island.
I decided to put his fears at rest.
‘I have had a splendid idea. There are other means and much more negotiable on doubtful roads than a motor car.’ I smiled reassuringly. ‘A means of
transport that I am familiar with every day of my life in Edinburgh. Bicycles!’
Ignoring his raised eyebrows and look of mild amusement, I said I had seen a shop with bicycles for hire when I was exploring the area last night and had even then considered it would be an alternative way to travel around Bute.
I thanked him for his help, said I would not be needing the motor car and went in search of Sadie for her reactions to this new plan. She was upstairs and said yes, she had breakfast early.
‘I think we might have a look at St Blane’s today.’
‘You mean just because I lived there as a child?’
‘Yes, that’s a good reason and don’t you think it would be pleasant to see it again?’ But my thoughts were focused on those two Boyd servants who had been witnesses at her trial.
She ignored the reason I gave her, a weary sigh indicating complete disinterest.
I said: ‘Gerald warns me that the roads are bad where they exist at all and as it’s not suitable for the motor car, I thought we might hire bicycles – there’s a place in the high street.’
Sadie continued saying nothing, just staring at me. ‘Bicycles, no motor car?’
‘Yes. It would be easy and rather nice to get some fresh air, don’t you think? You like bicycling in Edinburgh,’ I added encouragingly. ‘It’s a good day, that is if the wind is behind us.’ I smiled hopefully.
She gave me one of her intent looks and sighed deeply. ‘You’re wasting your time, Rose.’
Taken aback by this remark, I found her sudden lack of enthusiasm infuriating and bit back asking whose fault was that indeed, the idea of coming here had been hers in the first place, had it not, as she went on: ‘We’re almost running out of days, and we haven’t had any luck so far, no clues to follow, absolutely nothing. We might as well give up, Rose. It seemed such a good idea at the time, now I’m truly sorry to have wasted your holiday,’ she added apologetically.
I noticed that I had interrupted her writing a letter. There were several pages and indicating them, she said: ‘If you’re determined to go, you can post this. I was going to ask Harry but you are sure to be passing a postbox close by.’ She folded the letter carefully and I watched her seal the envelope. She must have been aware of my curiosity regarding its contents and said: ‘To Robbie, at the shipping office in Leith, they’ll forward it to him.’
She sighed again but I had a strange feeling as I left her that she had suddenly also lost all interest in her sea captain and the urgent matter of proving her innocence in order to marry him, once her pressing reason for this visit to Bute and dragging me with her.
I gave her a hard look. Something much more important had taken over her original wild plan, something that she was not prepared to confide in me, but I was certain concerned Harry Godwin and his obsession with her company.
A complete volte-face, now so indifferent, she was saying we might as well give up. She might give up, but that was not for me. She didn’t really know that side of my character and realise that all my early reluctance for a seemingly lost cause had vanished. I had the investigator’s bit between my teeth now and I was determined to continue. To be honest, I now considered this as a mystery, and I was in the business of solving mysteries, even the hopeless challenge of this particular not-proven case.
I looked at her, unable to find the appropriate words, seeing and hearing her lose heart, her enthusiasm evaporated. Indeed, she looked paler than usual this morning and said she had slept badly and had a bit of a sore throat.
I had heard her coughing during the night and hoped she wasn’t going to be ill for the journey home.
‘I’m sorry, Rose,’ she said again. ‘I really don’t feel like bicycling all that way.’
The prospect of sitting around the hotel, wasting another day doing nothing, appalled me. It had become important that although I had known right from the outset that this was a fool’s errand with the remotest chance of success, it was not in my nature to admit defeat so readily, especially when I had already a few startling theories about the Worths taking root, vague suspicions based on what I had heard and seen, that I wanted to put to the test.
‘You don’t mind if I don’t come with you?’ Sadie said anxiously. ‘I don’t want you to feel that I am letting you down when you are so keen to go. But I am a bit off colour today and I think I should stay indoors. I didn’t sleep much last night,’ she repeated and, shivering, gave me a look of appeal. ‘It’s not like me, but I’m really not very well, Rose.’
This surprised me. It certainly wasn’t like the Sadie we knew in Edinburgh, always so strong and robust and reliable. I had never known her to suffer from even a head cold, ready to nurse Meg as well as Jack and me through a few minor indispositions during the time she had been with us, always prepared with a shelf of soothing remedies at hand.
True, she seemed unwell, but my demons were whispering and feeling unworthily suspicious: conscious that we were running out of time, I wondered if this had something to do with Harry and the progress of whatever was going on between them. Was this sudden imaginary indisposition maybe just an excuse, a plan to spend another day with him?
I prepared for my journey. Fortunately, the style of clothes I usually wore were suitable for bicycling and when I went downstairs, Harry was waiting.
Smiling, he handed me a lunch package. He smiled. ‘When Gerald told me of your plan, I had this made up for you. It’s quite a long way and not many places where you might get refreshments en route. Here’s the map. I marked directions for the more direct route. And a rain cape. I hope you won’t need it, but just in case …’
It was such a kind thing to do, I thanked him, and said I was really looking forward to this excursion.
He frowned and looked seaward. ‘I would strongly advise against it, Mrs Macmerry. The barometer is low and I think we are in for a storm.’
I looked at the cloudless sky, a faint mist over the sea. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. I’ve lived here all my life and you can trust me where the weather is concerned. Later today, or tomorrow, it will break over the island.’
I had to take his word for that as he continued: ‘If you are absolutely intent on this journey, as Gerald told you neither of us can manage this morning – we have business meetings and we must go to Bannatyne – but I will be back in time to drive you down to St Blane’s this afternoon.’
‘That is most kind but I am used to bicycling. I enjoy it.’
He regarded me wide-eyed. ‘With all those hills in Edinburgh, you are a brave woman.’
‘I never notice them. It’s something one gets used to.’ I thanked him again and looking skyward, he frowned: ‘I think you will be safe enough for daylight, but if the wind increases and we have squally winds,’ he added firmly, ‘I will bring the motor car and fetch you and the bicycle back myself.’
‘That is very good of you, Harry.’ I thought, here is a nice, caring lad, with the welfare of his guests at heart, although he seemed still so young for such responsibilities. As well as keeping a watchful eye on his spendthrift uncle, who was still the legal owner, the Heights Hotel was undoubtedly flourishing, with the support and guidance of Gerald Thorn.
As I was leaving, he walked to the door with me and pointed to the sea, no longer smooth as glass, its mirror image shattered by angry-looking waves.
‘If it stays rough over to Wemyss Bay, the ferries will be cancelled and you may have to extend your stay with us,’ he warned. ‘That sometimes happens.’
‘How long would it last?’ I was thinking of Jack and Meg returning home with his parents looking forward to their long-promised holiday in Solomon’s Tower. Aware that there was much work and cooking for Sadie and me in preparation for this visit, it was also essential that I make a good impression on Jess Macmerry, who I could already see in my mind’s eye casting a critical glance upon her son’s wife’s methods of housekeeping, so very much inferior to her own.
Harry was saying: ‘Depends on the int
ensity of the storm – they usually only last a day or two.’ He was smiling, with a rather faraway look that suggested he would not be too disappointed if Sadie were to be kept here for an extended visit.
I emerged from the hotel and made my way along the main street, looking for a postbox for Sadie’s long letter to Robbie, very curious about its contents. Although only minutes had passed since my conversation with Harry, it seemed that the weather had already worsened and I observed with some misgivings the waves like monstrous white horses creeping up to the shore under a heavy grey sky.
I allowed myself some second thoughts. Perhaps it was madness to choose such a day, but as Sadie had warned me as if I didn’t know, time was running out for us, and I couldn’t afford the luxury of wasting a day.
At the bicycle hiring shop there seemed doubt in the assistant’s attitude towards a lady hiring such a machine, and I realised immediately that all these questions he put to me regarding my experience and ability before releasing into my care one of his precious machines would never have been uttered to a man. He also added to Gerald’s instructions about keeping to the inland roads and I headed up the high street past Rothesay Castle and the High Kirk, another place of interest on my list yet to be explored, on and on through Townhead, then an easy downhill road with Loch Fad on one side and Loch Ascog on the other. Both were imposing stretches of water, even on a rather dismal day, and I thought how they would transform for a delightful summer’s day picnic.
Reaching Ambrismore, I got my first glimpse of the Sound of Bute across to Kintyre, and in the far distance, Arran. I followed the twisting road south and eastward through a rural landscape, with moors stretching to the horizon broken by the shapes of a few farms and a thriving population of sheep; some of which settled on the road in front of this woman on a bicycle, quite unwilling to move over or take the slightest notice of her. They weren’t afraid and I might well have been invisible. As shouting and gesticulating were of no avail, I had several times to dismount and shoo them away bodily, ignoring indignant baas.
Murder Lies Waiting Page 11
