Blood Ties

by Oliver Davies

  “Probably wasn’t.”

  “Probably not. So, they go the other way,” I said, taking off down the adjoining hallway which became much plainer and wider, the rattling noise of the kitchen rising up to meet us.

  “Servants hallway,” Mills said from behind me.

  “Very perceptive. Came down here and got out through this way.”

  “There’s a door down there most likely.”

  I wandered down, to where a small set of stone steps led down into the basement of the house. It was cold down here, murky, a few rooms sealed up, the others stuffed with brown cardboard boxes and ornaments hidden under white dust sheets. At the end of the stone hallway, a small door allowed in some light. I opened it, stepping out into a small yard. Servants entrance.

  “Mills!” I shouted, waiting in the doorway until he appeared, holding the door open as I stepped further outside, scanning the brick walls that surrounded me. A gate at the rear led into the garden, another to a walled space filled with vegetables and fruit trees, at the front, the gravel rounded the corner to the driveway, the garages where more than a few cars were likely housed, and led out to the land that surrounded the estate. Boarded, as they often were, by trees.

  Perfect.

  I left the yard, returning to Mills who followed me as I silently strode back up the steps and into the foyer where Henry sat on the stairs, fiddling with his watch.

  “Mr Hocking,” he lifted his head and stood, “are they any security feeds in the yard outside the cellars?”

  “The yard? No, not out there. Nothing there to interest anyone.”

  “Not to lure them in, sir, but certainly to help them get out,” I told him.

  He looked confused for a moment before understanding dawned upon his face. “That’s how they left?”

  “I’d assume so, yes.”

  “Where did they go from there?”

  “That, I can’t tell you. You’re surrounded by countryside and woodlands, Mr Hocking. They could have gone anywhere. Our best bet now is to figure out who took it, not where they took it.”

  He nodded, hair falling into his face. “Mother should have that list for you now,” he said humbly, leading us back to the drawing room. The others were still there, looking like they hadn’t moved an inch since we left, except for Rupert, who had vanished, hopefully to follow his mother’s advice and have a shower. I handed Lady Hocking the key to the study.

  “We think the thief came out from the study and locked the door again, then took the way out through the cellars, out into the yard.”

  “The yard,” she murmured. “You know, I forget it’s there.”

  “It might be prudent to extend your security measures, Lady Hocking.”

  “Yes, certainly will. On that measure,” she stood up and handed me a small folder, “all of my notes from the party arrangements. Guest list, contact details, some other things that I can't imagine will be much use, but there you go.”

  “Thank you, Lady Hocking,” I replied, tucking the folder under my arm.

  “And Dennis is handling the security footage. Says he will get it to you at the station once he has it.”

  “Much obliged. We noticed a van outside; I take it some of the staff from yesterday are here?”

  “Here to collect the rest of their things, yes.”

  “We’ll be speaking to them,” I assured her, “but I’d like to speak to your guests, the ones that are here now. To save me calling later and bothering them at home.”

  “Certainly. Eloise, will you go and fetch them?”

  “Of course,” she shot up like a ferret up a drainpipe and scuttled from the room.

  “And I’d like to speak to Lord Hocking at some point,” I folded my hands together, “whenever he can.”

  “He should be back soon,” Henry told me. “Never goes out for more than two hours.”

  “Excellent. Lady Hocking,” I began, taking a seat, Mills behind me, “we think that this is a personal theft, rather than a claim on profit.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “There are lots of valuable things in this house, as I’m sure you know, your Ladyship,” she toyed with the large sapphire on her finger, “but your thief made the effort of breaking into your husband’s study, stealing a painting and sneaking out. When they could have slipped some silverware into their pockets or found something smaller, easier to grab.”

  “I see.”

  “You mentioned that your husband’s collection is personal, so we are beginning to think that the motive behind this might be, too. Is there anyone who would want to cause you or your family grievance?”

  “I shouldn’t think so,” she replied smartly. “We give a lot to this community, you know. Always have.”

  “I don’t doubt it. There’s no old feuds, disgruntled staff who might have felt the need to do this?”

  The stoic mask on her face faltered slightly, her eyes shooting over my shoulder to where Henry stood. Then she shook her head forcefully and folded her hands tightly together,

  “No. Our staff have always been very loyal to us. We pay them well and ensure a good pension for when they retire.”

  “That is good to hear,” Mills offered kindly.

  “Well, if you think of anything, if anyone comes to mind,” I handed her my card, “please do call me. Anytime.”

  She took the card, peering down her nose at it, but smiled up at me all the same.

  “The guests are all down here,” Eloise turned to the room, “they’re in the breakfast room. I can take you to them.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Hocking.”

  “I’ll head to the staff,” Henry made to follow, “ensure they stay until you’ve seen them.”

  “Thank you. We’re very grateful for all of your cooperation in this. We hope to have it solved, and your home back to normal, as soon as we can.”

  “Well from what we’ve heard about you, Detective Inspector Thatcher,” Marjory piped up, “we don’t doubt it, do we?”

  “Certainly not,” her husband added boisterously.

  “You’re too kind,” I smiled through grit teeth, Mills ducking his head to hide his smirk. I bid farewell to Lady Hocking and followed the young couple from the drawing room to where last night’s guests waited. I hoped, sincerely, that they were sober enough to recall the events of the night well. Gin didn’t leave the head all that clear, from my memories; it was a pointed decision to avoid the stuff. I doubted if these people shared such concerns.

  Four

  Thatcher

  It wasn’t difficult to imagine this place in the thralls of a party. Hundreds of candles lined the hallways and hung from the ceiling, the light of them would have bounced off of the numerous large mirrors and windows. At night, the effect must be quite lovely. But mix in a great many people all with drinks in hand, and that effect would turn sour, even if nobody had noticed at first.

  Eloise rattled on about the history of the place; it seemed the whole family still lived here, occupying various floors in their own little worlds. Mills was paying better attention to her than I was. He nodded as she spoke, occasionally turning over her shoulder to look back at us, asked the odd question and seemed rather enthralled with the whole place. It was, I had to concede, a beautiful house. Full to brim with history and secrets, with hidden doors and sudden corners, back stairs that nobody used and loads of tiny, irrelevant rooms that had gone long since out of fashion.

  I rather liked parts of it. As she took us further into the rooms most often used by the family, it was easy to spot the change. The furniture became more modern, more usable, the decoration less ostentatious, though still expensive. Children’s toys were dotted about here and there, blankets left in piles, belongings discarded in a messy array. There were photographs of the family now, smiling together, children splashing in the sea, Henry and Eloise holding babies, posed together on the sofa that hung on the walls, and propped up on sideboards. Considerably less ostentatious than the oil paintings.

&nbs
p; “Who is this?” Mills stopped suddenly at a family photograph, pointing to one of the faces. It was a young woman, who I recognised from the portrait in the study. We hadn’t met her with the rest of them, unless she was out with Lord Hocking.

  “Oh, that’s Rose. She’s the baby of the siblings,” Eloise said fondly. She looked to be, if the photo was recent, in her early twenties, not too much of an age gap between herself and Rupert, most likely. Eloise herself could be no more than twenty-five, like her husband.

  “Is she here? We thought the family was all in the drawing room with your mother-in-law,” I asked.

  Eloise shook her head, the pearls around her neck clinking together. “Sadly not. Rose wasn’t at the party last night. She should be home in a few days, and I think she’ll speed up once she hears about all of this.”

  We carried on walking, following the growing sound of voices, laughter and the clink of cutlery on plates, leaving the cosy family room and walking into a bright, green room with a large round table in its centre. Around which, a cluster of people ate breakfast, sipping at coffees or bloody Marys with their heads cradled in their hands. I noticed that the curtains had been drawn, blocking out the bright sunshine of the morning.

  “Everyone,” Eloise called out gently, “I’d like to introduce Detective Inspector Thatcher and Detective Sergeant Mills. They have some questions for us all about last night.”

  “All at once?” one of the men asked.

  “One at a time is the usual way of doing things,” I replied.

  “These are the Patels,” Eloise indicated a couple, “Kareena and Navin. Henry’s friend Martin Windham,” the previous gentlemen, who looked very much to be suffering. “Sadie O’Donovan and her brother Nathan and on the far side,” she indicated the farthest couple, “Tommy and Jacob Barbet.” She clapped her hands together. “I’ll leave you to it, shall I?” She smiled prettily and drifted away, humming as she went.

  “Would any of you like to go first?” I asked diplomatically.

  “I will.” Martin downed the rest of his coffee and pushed himself back from the table, crossing the room and joining us in the corner on a set of armchairs. He fell back into his with a grunt and smiled wryly.

  “Martin Windham?” Mills checked, making a small note.

  “That’s the one.”

  “You’re a friend of Henry Hocking?” I leant back, letting Mills go ahead.

  “I am. Have been since our university days, best man at his wedding,” he said proudly, “godfather to his daughter.”

  “You’re a regular attendee at the party then?”

  “Oh, yes. Every year. Couldn’t miss it for the world.” He beamed. “Her Ladyship knows how to throw a party, that’s for sure.”

  “Did you come alone?”

  “No. I came with Sadie.” He nodded to the blonde-haired lady who leant against her brother’s shoulders. “Nathan joined us last night, but we’ve been staying here a few days.”

  “And did you see anything unusual last night? Any strange faces that aren’t normally here, anyone acting differently?”

  “Can’t say I did.” He rested his hands on the armrest. “We’ve all been coming for years, you know? Didn’t notice anyone making off with a bloody painting either, sadly.”

  “Are you familiar with the painting in question?” I asked, leaning my chin in my hand.

  “Seen it once or twice,” he told us. “The old man’s very private about his study, though. It’s a landscape of the estate.”

  “Are you able to give us much of an account of last night?” Mills asked him. “Whatever you can remember well enough.”

  “Last night.” He furrowed his brow and rubbed his temple. “I was with Sadie most of the day. Went into the local village. Came back, got dressed, had dinner, that was lovely,” he added on a side note, “then it all kicked off. Was outside for a while with some of the boys from the rotary club.”

  “Any idea as to what time that might have been? We’re trying to narrow down a window of when this could have happened.”

  “You know I do, because Charlie, dear friend, was showing me his new watch that does something very clever on the hour. It was about ten, when he showed me,” he said, “and we were out there for a while longer after that.”

  Lord Hocking locked it at around seven, and the place started to clear out by midnight; not any easy window of time to navigate, but an alibi was an alibi.

  “And there was nothing, or no one, who seemed out of sorts?”

  “Nope. Everyone was in fine form.”

  “Thank you, Mr Windham,” I said with a smile.

  He nodded, clapping his arms down on the chair before getting up and returning to his table.

  “Who next?” Mills asked me. I looked over his shoulder to the table, studying their faces.

  “Miss O’Donovan looks like she might fall asleep soon,” I remarked. “Better speak to her.”

  Mills nodded and got up, walking over the table. I watched as he politely indicated her over to the chairs. She nodded, wearily, and used her brother’s shoulder to hoist herself up and drift over to the chairs. She was wearing a dress still, the long silky skirt swishing around her legs, only she now had a large, knitted jumper several sizes too big thrown over the top.

  “Detectives,” she murmured, settling herself in the chair.

  “Thank you, Miss O’Donovan.” I leant forward, bracing my arms on my knees. “We understand that you’ve been staying here for a few days with Mr Windham?”

  She nodded.

  “And that your brother,” I continued, “joined you last night for the party?”

  “He did. Got here just in time for dinner,” she said. “About half six.”

  “Do you remember much from the evening?” I asked her.

  She lifted her bloodshot eyes to me with a hapless expression and smiled. “Bits and pieces. I’m told I passed out at a certain point. Nathan!” she called over her shoulder. “When did I pass out?”

  “Around eleven?” he called back. “Had to carry you to your room, you lightweight.”

  She turned back. “I blame the gin,” she said, “never sits right with me.”

  “Nor me,” I told her. “Do you remember seeing anything strange last night? Before you went to bed?”

  “Not really. Didn’t know all the guests, but Martin seemed to know everyone by name. I’ve only been here once before, last year.”

  “You don’t recall seeing anything odd?”

  “No,” she shrugged, “but I don’t know how helpful I can really be here, boys.”

  Well, given that she was unconscious around the time I’d pin this whole thing occurring, I’d say she was very much helping herself.

  “Thank you, Miss O’Donovan.”

  “Would you like me to send my brother over?”

  “Please.”

  “Feels like school,” she muttered as she stood up, “only without the nuns.”

  Mills chuckled as she hobbled back to the table, swiping at her brother’s shoulder before she shooed him over.

  “Sorry about her,” he said as he sat down. “Doesn’t know her limits sometimes.”

  “It’s a lucky thing she had you here,” Mills pointed out.

  Nathan laughed, running his hand over his face. “Truth be told I only really came to see Rose. Turns out she wasn’t even here! Bit of family bonding though.” He glanced fondly to his sister. “Never a bad thing.”

  “You and Rose Hocking are an item?”

  “No. Not yet,” he added hopefully.

  “What you can tell us about last night, Mr O’Donovan?”

  “I got here around half six, quarter to seven. In time for dinner, of course. Sadie made me change first, but then I mostly stuck with her for the evening. And Rupert, naturally. After I carried her majesty over there to bed, I ended up in the drawing room, playing cards with a few lads. Navin was there, but I can't remember the rest of them.”

  “And was there anything or anyone
that caught your eye?” Mills asked him. “Anything strange or unusual?”

  “Not really. I mean some of the waiters looked a bit peeved. You would be peeved too, wouldn’t you? Standing around all night serving drinks but not having one yourself.”

  “Were you aware of the study?” I asked. “Lord Hocking’s wish that no one went down there?”

  “Announced it at dinner, he did. I don’t even know where it is,” he whispered. “House is a bloody maze. Could barely find the toilet.”

  “Did you see any member of staff in particular?”

  “No, not really. Sort of the point isn’t it? Not supposed to notice them.”

  “Thank you, Nathan.” I sat back again, and he nodded, getting up and going back to the table.

  “Sir?” Mills asked.

  “I hate doing questioning like this,” I muttered. “It’s so boring.”

  He smiled. “We could take the couples together?”

  “Why not? Just to get their alibis. The Patels first, please, Mills.”

  He nodded, getting up and heading to the couple. They seemed, out of everyone else at the table, the most put together. They looked like they had showered and had a decent few hours of sleep before trundling down here.

  Mr Patel sat his wife down in the chair, dragging a spare one over for himself as Mills sat down.

  “Mr and Mrs Patel, thank you for doing this.”

  “Not at all,” she said quickly. “Any way we can help, truly.”

  “You’re good friends with Lord and Lady Hocking?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Navin nodded, “many years now. Our son went to school with Henry.”

  “Was your son here last night?”

  “No, had to miss it this year. He’s in Brussels,” he told us proudly. “Work business.”

  “Very impressive. Can you tell us anything about last night?”

  “I wasn’t drinking,” Kareena told us, “so I might remember more than this one.” She squeezed her husband’s hand good naturedly.

  “We take turns,” he explained to us. “It’s a system we took up a few years ago after our third time at this party.”

  “Must have been quite the evening to lead to such a system.”