It had been slow at first, but once she had assisted Mister Hawthorne with the case of the fairies of Denwick Beauchamp then word of mouth seemed to make her very busy indeed. At first Victoria could not really explain the sudden increase in queries arriving daily through the telephonic device but after she had consulted the data clouds and traced Mister Hawthorne everything began to fall into place, for it appeared that the journalist was very well placed indeed.
There had been a few small time jobs. Missing dogs and the like but they had been easily solved. Then there had come calls from the surrounding countryside, culminating with the call she had taken several hours earlier which was from the police, and in particular Inspector Vaillant. At first the call at such a late hour from the police made Victoria frantically try to put into chronological order Viktor’s movements for the day, but as the inspector began to fill her in with regards to the reason for the call then it became obvious that her new butler was off the hook.
“Hawthorne speaks very highly of you.” He had said, “Though I must say that I apologise for the lateness of the hour, but it is very much a case of, “as needs must” unfortunately.” Victoria had looked at the timepiece on the wall and seen it was nine o’clock of an evening, but had been dark for several hours now.
“Not a problem at all, inspector.” She had said, “I am always pleased to assist with a case if the police require me.” There had been a brief pause on the line and the inspector had continued.
“Well it is more of a case of a second opinion really. I am at Harrington Hall and the family are all waiting for the conclusion to my investigation with regards to events that occurred just after eight o’clock this evening.”
“I see.” Said Victoria, “And what are your conclusions.”
“Well that is my problem really.” The inspector had said down the telephonic device, his voice now noticeably lower as if he was whispering almost. “I haven’t got a clue where Lord Harrington has gone.”
“So you don’t actually have a conclusion?” sighed Victoria and the silence at the other end of the line confirmed to her that this was very much the case. “I can be there within the hour.” Victoria had said brightly, and was pleased to hear the sighs of relief in the inspector's voice as he thanked her.
It was an aristocratic home and so Victoria decided to use the large zeppelin for the journey rather than the small skimmer, and had spent the twenty-minute journey across the Berkshire countryside reflecting on all she knew about the Harrington’s, filling in what she did not know from the data clouds she accessed through her own internal Babbage driven computational engine.
Royston closed the single door behind them and Victoria saw up ahead a wide archway that led up presumably into the King’s Tower. She let the butler take the lead and soon they approached the apex of the tower, the top of the stairs and the small round room beyond that being obscured by half a dozen or so policemen who were milling about looking for inspiration. Victoria thought that judging by the looks on their faces they had found none.
“Inspector Vaillant?” She called and an older bald headed man broke away from the small crowd of policemen and strode towards her, hand outstretched. He had a pleasant round face topped by a long, elaborate grey moustache and an easy smile. He looked Victoria up and down as if assessing her and not drawing any particular conclusion.
“The same.” He said. He had a clipped local accent and although he shook her hand firmly his eyes darted from her then back to the room before finally resting upon her again.
“Pleased to meet you.” Said Victoria, “Would you care to fill me in?” She noted the look of gratitude on the policeman’s face. He was obviously keen to get started straight away.
“Clear the room!” He called loudly and the policemen filed out standing on the staircase leading down, looking at the newcomer with suspicion. “You lot can all go back to the station. No point in all of us spending the night here.” Vaillant stepped inside the room and Victoria followed as the now grumbling policemen descended the staircase, lamps shining after them as they disappeared from view and then that was gone too.
She examined the room and saw that it had a circumference of approximately fifteen feet with a high, lightly cobwebbed ceiling some twenty feet above them. The walls and ceiling were plain granite stone. There were no windows or doors of any kind whatsoever. In fact, the only exit from the room was the door through which they had just entered. The room was completely bare. There was no furniture or adornments on the walls, and the only thing within the room was a large metal key that rested just off centre of the middle of the room, presumably where it had been dropped by Lord Harrington.
“Well Miss Neaves.” Said Vaillant.
“Oh please call me Victoria.” She said, and the policeman nodded.
“Lord Harrington had what appears to be a bit of a family argument and he stormed out, lamp in hand to get some peace and quiet. This was apparently a favourite spot of his to do so but his family were keen to continue the discussion and so followed him here where he then locked himself in.”
“The family saw him lock himself in?” She asked and Vaillant nodded.
“They all did. The door was swinging closed as they reached the top of the stairs and they briefly saw him push the door shut and then came the sound of the key turning in the lock. They tried to open the door of course but had to resort to young master William descending the tower to raise the butler with a spare key. Upon opening the door, the room was empty.”
“Apart from the key.”
“Yes.”
“Romney. Scan for any exits or aberrations in the tower construction.” She said in her head, “Then a complete visual scan.”
“Will do boss.” Said the demon and Victoria kneeled down and looked at the key on the floor.
“Have you tried to lock the door from within?” She asked and Vaillant shook his head.
“I would suggest you do so.” She smiled, “With this key too.”
“Would you say that was wise?” He said, looking vaguely concerned.
“I think it is absolutely necessary.” she said, and plucking the key up from the floor she approached the door and removed the key that was still sticking from the lock on the outside. She swung the door shut, where it settled into the frame with a loud click. She stood with the inspector looking about the empty room in silence as if waiting for something horrible to occur. Nothing did.
Victoria smiled and placing the key from the floor in the lock she first locked the door and tried to open it to no avail, and then spun the key in the lock again and easily opened the door. It swung open slowly on creaky, rusted hinges, much to the evident relief of the inspector who appeared to be mopping his brow with his handkerchief.
“No other exits.” Said Romney, “No traces of occult manifestations or apperations. Spectrum analysis finds nothing unusual at all. Place could do with a good dusting but that's about it.”
“Thanks Romney.” She said out loud for a change, “Inspector, my demon assistant finds nothing out of the normal at all. No occult manifestations or apperations.”
“I should think not.” Snorted the policeman. “Appertations are punishable by death.”
“Well I hardly think that helps Lord Harrington.” She smiled, walking across the room and touching the wall. It was very cold.
“Well you know what I say.” Said Romney.
“What’s that?” Asked Victoria in her mind.
“You know, boss. If you can eliminate the impossible then what’s left, however unlikely is bound to be the truth.”
“I see.” Said Victoria. “No exits.”
“Yes.”
“No other means of leaving the room.”
“Yes.”
She paused slightly, looking about the tower before striding towards the door.
“That means he is still in here then doesn’t it?” She smiled.
“Yes. Afraid So.” said Romney.
“I would like to quest
ion the family now.” She said, striding from the room, Vaillant vaguely in tow, “If you could set up a small room for me to question them one by one that would be helpful.”
“Very well, Miss… erm… Victoria.” Said the inspector and quickly they descended the tower.
***
Lady Harrington placed herself down in the armchair, the fire in the grate burning brightly and lighting the room. Victoria sat opposite her, hands on her lap. Across from her sat Inspector Vaillant who seemed to be doing his very best to melt into the background. He did however have a small notepad on his knee and a pen in his hand. Victoria had neither.
“How strange to be questioned in one’s own home.” Said Lady Harrington.
“I do apologize, Lady Harrington.” Said Victoria, and we both know that your family have been through a great ordeal this evening and it grows late. Yet we felt it best to ask our questions whilst the incident is fresh in your mind.”
“Very well.” she said. “But please do not stand on ceremony. Please call me Cordelia.”
“Thank you.” Said Victoria, “How long have you and your husband been married, Cordelia?”
“Oh some thirty-two years now.” She smiled.
“And they have been happy years?”
“Very much so.” Said the lady of the house, staring off into the darkness of the room as if recalling their time together. “Things have been difficult after the fire three years ago however.”
“The west wing?”
“The same, yes. The house requires a lot of money to keep it from falling into ruin, and we simply cannot afford to repair the fire damage. We have been at our wits end as for what to do.”
“So Lord Harrington was under a lot of pressure then?”
“I would say we all are really. This of course culminated in poor Albus announcing as we gathered for dinner this evening that it was his intention to sell off Harrington Hall altogether.”
“That must have come as quite a shock.” Said Victoria.
“Yes indeed. The children were as stunned as I. It is their inheritance I am sure you understand. My husband was perhaps a little too presumptuous in his approach to solving our financial worries.”
“Did anyone know of his plans prior to this evening?”
“Absolutely not.” Smiled Cordelia, “Even I was completely taken by surprise at his announcement.”
Across from Victoria the Inspector shuffled in his seat, furiously scribbling in his notepad as he did so.
“Why did Lord Harrington close himself in the King’s Tower in the first place?” Asked the policeman and lady Harrington turned slightly to face him.
“It is a favourite retreat of his if he feels under stress. When he was a child he used to hide up there. It is after all quite a secluded place to go, and I should imagine that if you are seeking solitude to clear your mind then it is a very good hideaway.” Victoria smiled.
“Quite.” She said, “Yet your husband has vanished from inside an apparently locked room leaving no trace of where he went at all. Where do you think he is?”
“I have no idea.” Said Cordelia, “No idea at all. Yet I will box his ears when he returns, believe you me, putting his family and the police through all of this worry.”
“Thank you, lady Harrington.” Said Victoria. “There are no more questions. Would you be kind enough to send your eldest son Montague in please?”
“Certainly.” Said Cordelia, rising and crossing the room. She opened and closed the door behind her, Vaillant and Victoria in complete silence until she had left.
“I think she knows nothing at all other than what she told us.” Said Victoria. “Poor woman.”
“Why poor woman?” Smiled the Inspector, turning to a new page in his notepad.
“Because her husband is dead, Inspector.” She said as there came a slight knock on the door and Montague came into the room. “I don't know how or even why yet. But that's the case. I can feel it in my bones.”
“I see.” Said the policeman, visibly paling as Montague sat down in the chair that Cordelia had just vacated.
“Good evening.” Said Montague, his voice definitely more clipped than his mothers, as if he was trying to make himself sound more educated than he apparently was.
“So you saw your father close the door to the room at the top of the King’s tower then?” Said Victoria, examining the young man closely. He was, she knew from her search of the datacloud twenty-seven but he looked older. He had slicked back dark hair that it looked as if he had coloured grey around his sideburns as if he was trying to appear more mature. He had a small dark moustache, also tinted, and wore a bright dinner suit and a small knotted tie that was burgundy in colour.
“Oh yes.” He said, “I did indeed. The old man pushed it closed as we approached. No doubt about it.”
“So what do you think of his plans for the house?” Smiled Victoria and Montague's face darkened.
“He has a ruddy cheek if you ask me.” He snarled, “It is my inheritance he has plans to sell off after all. There has been a Harrington in this house for the last six hundred years and that ruddy well won’t change if it’s got anything to do with me.”
“I see.” Said Victoria, about to continue when Montague interrupted her.
“Father should invest in the diamond mines in Australia. I have sunk a fair old wedge of my trust fund in there you know and it will all come to fruition in a few years.” He tapped the side of his nose as if he was imparting secret information, “I know a few chaps from the city and they gave me an inside tip. Already the rush has begun. Zeppelins fly across the world to the Australia’s. Diamonds as big as a man’s fist they say.”
“Very good.” Said the Inspector.
“Indeed.” Sniffed Montague. “If father could raise a few hundred thousand and invest them in ten year’s time he could have this place rebuilt several times over. You have to speculate to accumulate you see, Inspector.”
“So I have heard.” Said the policeman, “So I have heard.” Victoria leaned forward slightly.
“So where do you think your father has gone?” She asked smiling. Montague frowned.
“I think perhaps he slipped out of the room somehow whilst we weren't watching.”
“Yet the whole family remained at the top of the tower whilst the spare key was fetched were they not?
“Indeed.” Said Montague, frowning even more, his forehead a deep line of furrows now. “Beyond that I do not really know. All I do know is when he gets back he is for it. If mother doesn’t swipe him for one then I most certainly will.”
“Thank you Montague.” Said Victoria, “Will you send Charlotte in now please?”
“Very well.” He said and left the room. Shortly after Charlotte entered and sat down.
She wore a long dress which was obviously a dinner dress, and an ornate set of pearls hung about her neck. She had long blonde hair, her face very much like her mother’s. Having made herself comfortable in the chair she looked at Victoria almost haughtily, waiting for her question. Victoria quickly obliged.
“What do you think of your father’s plan for the house?” She asked and Charlotte smiled.
“I have no opinion really.” She said. “Montague is the heir. I am just the eldest daughter, waiting to be married off or to receive my inheritance. Whichever comes first really.”
“Montague seems to be very upset about it all.” Said Victoria and Charlotte smiled, looking into the fire dreamily.
“Well it is all about money with Montague.” She smiled, ‘Which is rather a shame given how easily it seems to slip through his fingers. You know I heard him and father having a right old ding dong the other evening about his trust fund.” She giggled loudly, “Or lack of it. It appears he has frittered it all away. Father was not happy I can tell you.”
“Really? Said Vaillant, underscoring something he had just written in his notepad, “How interesting.”
“So where do you think your father has disappeared to?”
“Oh I have no idea.” Said Charlotte wearily, staring into the fire again, smiling as she watched the flames, “He always did have a thing about that place. I am sure he had his reasons. Whatever they were.”
“Thank you Charlotte.” Said Victoria. “Please send William in if you will.” Charlotte did not seem to hear at first and then abruptly stood up.
“Right.” She said, walking slowly across the room, “It will be a pleasure.”
William entered a few moments later. He looked nervous Victoria thought as he sat down on the edge of the chair, his hands knotted tightly together over his knees, his knuckles white. Victoria knew that he was the youngest son, aged seventeen according to the data clouds but he appeared to look much younger.
“William. You fetched the spare key from Royston the butler I believe.”
“Well yes.” Said William. “Though fetching the key is a bit of an exaggeration. Royston insisted on coming with me in case I was just up to some jape or the like. He wouldn’t have it that I was telling the truth and that father had locked himself in the tower.”
“I see. So Royston came with you.”
“Yes.” said the young man wearily. “Nobody takes me seriously around here. Not old enough to do this or go there. It can be terribly irksome at times.”
“I imagine so.” Said Victoria, “It comes of being the youngest I suspect.”
“Yes. Well it’s just not fair really.” Inspector Vaillant placed his notepad on his knee.
“So just where do you think your father has gone then?” He asked and William scowled.
“I don’t care. As long as when he returns he apologizes to mummy. It really is quite frightful what he has done, what with talk of selling our home from under our feet and then disappearing like that.”
“Thank you.” Said Victoria. “If you could send Nigel in next please.”
William nodded and left the room in a hurry. The inspector smiled as the door closed behind him.
The Complete Adventures of Victoria Neaves & Romney Page 14
