The Great Catsby

by T. H. Hunter

  Even without Val shaking her head softly in the background, I could tell that she was no longer telling the truth.

  “Beatrice, please,” I said. “You’re protecting the wrong person. A murderer, for Heaven’s sake. Don’t you think that, whoever they are, they ought to be brought to justice?”

  It took a moment for the horrible truth to fully sink in. Then, she looked at me.

  “I-I don’t know anything for certain, you have to understand,” she began slowly, making a great effort to pull herself together. “But there have been s-strange things happening in this house ever since Emma arrived.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Steven was mad about her from the moment she stepped into the hall for the first time. She was his type. Open-minded, good-looking, sassy.”

  “Did anyone know about them being together?”

  She sighed.

  “It was a secret,” she said, “though of course we all knew about it. It’s impossible to keep anything a secret for long here.”

  “And Lord Pembroke didn’t approve of Steven and Emma seeing each other?”

  “No,” she said, “I overheard my brother quarrelling with Emma on several occasions. And with Steven, too. That’s very unusual, because my brother rarely loses his temper, only when he’s under intense pressure, like tonight. But when he does, he just snaps. And then, he can be quite frightening. But my brother didn’t approve of any of Steven’s escapades, to be honest. It isn’t the first time he’s charmed one of the maids, I can assure you, though I think the relationship with Emma was more serious than any he has had for a long time.”

  “But if it was more serious, wouldn’t Lord Pembroke be afraid that his son might marry out of his class?”

  Beatrice looked afraid.

  “I was worried about that, too…”

  “Did you ever hear what the row was precisely about between Lord Pembroke and Emma?”

  Beatrice shook her head.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t,” she said. “And that’s the truth, I swear it is. I asked my brother, but he wouldn’t say. I do know that he sent Carew downstairs to her room to snoop around, but I don’t know what he was looking for.”

  Slowly, the pieces of puzzle were falling into place.

  “And you caught Carew snooping in Emma’s room again, after her death?”

  “How did you…?”

  “Did you?”

  “Why, y-yes,” she said in surprise, “yes, I did. But I had no luck in getting anything out of that man. He’s fiercely devoted to the family honour and that sort of thing.”

  “Did Emma ever catch him?” I asked. “Carew, I mean.”

  “She might have done,” said Beatrice. “I’m afraid I don’t know that.”

  “Hardly a reason for murder, though,” Val said, frowning.

  “No,” said Beatrice. “Anyway, I think it more likely of my brother that he would simply not involve himself. Carew would gladly take any blame, he’s so loyal. That’s what I don’t understand. It must have been something important. A good reason for sending him down there to have a look round.”

  “Can you tell us anything about Lord Pembroke’s assistant, Sarah?” asked Val.

  “Sarah?” asked Beatrice in surprise. “Why, no. As far as I know, she’s enjoys working for my brother. I was never much interested in the inner workings of magic, to be honest, as long as it works.”

  She got up to get herself another drink.

  “Well, thank you, Beatrice,” I said, getting up slowly. “You’ve been a great help.”

  “D-don’t tell anyone,” she said. “Don’t tell anyone what I told you. Please.”

  “It will be our secret until this whole thing is cleared up,” I said. “In fact, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone we had this little chat, either.”

  “F-fine,” she said, supressing a hiccup.

  ***

  A quarter of an hour later, we were back in our room again. As we ascended the stairs that led to our landing, Barry was impatiently waiting in front of our door.

  “This is becoming something of a habit of yours, isn’t it?” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Keeping me hanging around in the corridors like this. You know, one day someone will notice the pattern and kidnap me.”

  “Really sorry, Barry,” I said. “But it was important.”

  “Why would anyone want to kidnap you, Barry?” Val asked.

  “To keep me as a prisoner scientist, of course,” said Barry. “Happens more often than you think.”

  Val sniggered.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, grinning. “Anyway, we’ve got some good news.”

  “It was definitely worth it,” said Val, who looked utterly exhausted from using her psychic powers for such a long prolonged period of time.

  “I hope so,” said Barry uncharitably. “I’m getting hungry. A cat has to eat, you know.”

  “Where have you been all this time, anyway?” I asked. “After Steven was carried out by the healers, I mean. You weren’t here all the time, surely?”

  “My expertise was required elsewhere,” said Barry.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sarah showed me the generator for the magical field,” he said. “Very interesting indeed. A masterpiece of magic and engineering. Could hardly have done it better myself.”

  “That’s certainly high praise, coming from you, Barry,” I said.

  “Why did she do that?” asked Val, while I fumbled for the key in my handbag. “Take you down to this generator thing, I mean.”

  “She asked me whether I could take a look at it,” said Barry. “There are some people who value my insights, you know.”

  I had finally retrieved the key and placed it into the lock.

  “I think she values more than that,” said Val.

  “And what if she does?” retorted Barry. “It’s not a crime, is it?”

  “And you were with her all this time?”

  I unlocked the door and pushed it open.

  “No,” said Barry defensively, “I wasn’t. After we had finished, she needed to do some work on her own, so I took a walk in the grounds for a while. Then I came here, so…”

  “Barry, Val!” I exclaimed, pointing into the room. “Look.”

  Our suite was unrecognisable.

  The table and the sofa had been overturned and lay on their sides. Contents from our bags and suitcases were strewn throughout the room. Coats and pullovers had been flung all over the place. Even the small bin in the corner had been emptied.

  “This is outrageous,” said Barry, puffing up his little chest in indignation. “We ought to complain to the management immediately. I mean, we’re not paying room service to wreck the place, are we?”

  “This wasn’t the maid, Barry,” I said, carefully checking all corners of the suite to make sure nobody was there. “Somebody’s been going through our things.”

  “Who would do such a thing?” asked Val fearfully.

  I stepped back into the living room again.

  “Let’s check everything,” I said. “See whether anything’s been taken.”

  My bedroom was in a similar state as the living room. Cushions lay on the floor, even the mattress had been turned over. The room was littered with clothes, toiletries and all the other necessities of travelling.

  Surprisingly, it seemed that nothing had been stolen at all, except…

  “My wand,” I called, rummaging through my suitcase in vain. “My wand is gone. I can’t find it.”

  Val came rushing into my room.

  “What?”

  “They took my wand,” I said. “I’m positive I left it here in the suitcase.”

  “Why did you leave it there for?” asked Barry, sliding past Val’s leg.

  “Well, I didn’t think anyone was going to break in here, did I?” I said irritably. “And since we’re not allowed to use magic here, I thought I’d just leave it in my room.”

  “What a foolish t
hing to do,” said Barry.

  “Yes, thank you, Barry,” I said. “That isn’t very helpful right now, is it?”

  “What are we going to do now?” asked Val.

  “We’ve got to find out who did this,” I said. “A stolen wand is not a good omen. Barry, did you see anyone while you were waiting outside the door?”

  “No,” he said, “I didn’t. As I said, Sarah dropped me off in the grounds and then I had a well-deserved stroll around the gardens. When I came back, about an hour or so later, the door here was locked, so I waited for you to finally bother to turn up.”

  “They must have already done the deed by then,” I said, frowning.

  “Couldn’t it be Carew?” asked Val. “He did search Emma’s room, after all.”

  “On multiple occasions even,” I said. “If we believe Beatrice.”

  “I’ve never liked the look of that fellow,” said Barry dismissively. “A shifty servant if ever there was one.”

  “What would he want in here?”

  “To see how far we’ve got in the investigation, most likely,” I said. “They must have found out about our involvement in the case.”

  “But Carew would work on orders only, surely?” asked Val.

  “Come on,” I said. “I think it’s time we confronted Lord Pembroke. This has been going on for long enough. And we’ve got to get my wand back.”

  ***

  As we re-entered the endless, maze-like corridors of Pembroke House again, it was already well past midnight, leaving only the faint glow of the ancient oil lamps to guide our way. While we searched for the entrance to the West wing, Val and I told Barry all about Beatrice, and that she had been behind the threatening letters.

  Though I didn’t like crowds, I would have preferred a noisy football stadium right now to the eerie silence of the barely lit passages that unwinded before us. The few remaining guests that had not already left the house had all presumably gone to bed.

  Though I knew that Lord Pembroke’s rooms were in the West wing, I had not yet come to grips with the architecture of the place. It just didn’t make any sense. It resembled a labyrinth.

  “Who would design a house this way?” I said irritably, after ending up in yet another corridor that led nowhere. “There’s no logic to this at all.”

  “Maybe it was intended to do just that,” said Val. “Any intruder would take ages to get out of here even if he did find something.”

  After encountering several more dead ends, we finally came across a large staircase with an ornate red carpet. It seemed oddly misplaced at the far end of the house, for even the entrance hall sported one that was much smaller and less impressive.

  Leaning over the balustrade, I also noticed that the stairs extended down into the cellars. For the Pembroke House, at least, this was rather unusual, since each staircase was separate from the other, so that one couldn’t scale multiple floors at once.

  For someone acquainted with the complicated layout of the house, therefore, gaining access to the servants’ quarters couldn’t be more than a matter of a few minutes from here.

  “Where are we?” asked Val.

  “The West wing, I hope,” I said. “We’d better take off our shoes, Val. Better not advertise our approach too much.”

  “Good thinking,” she said, bending down.

  Leaving the shoes at the foot of the staircase, we crept up them as silently as we could.

  I had never felt more vulnerable. Without my wand, I was defenceless in a magical duel. And although magic was officially forbidden at the Pembroke estate, I doubted the person who had stolen my wand would hesitate to use it.

  After a few minutes of patient tiptoeing, careful not to make the stairs creak too much, we had reached the top floor.

  “Do you think this is it?” whispered Val, pointing at a large double door at the end of the landing.

  Let’s give it a try,” I said.

  We sneaked across the landing, which squeaked underneath our feet. But before we could open the door, Val grabbed my arm.

  “There’s someone in there,” she whispered.

  Barry, Val, and I stood there, frozen to the spot, listening intently.

  “This is ridiculous,” a muffled voice inside was saying inside.

  “It’s Lord Pembroke, I think,” I said, leaning against the door with my ear.

  “What is he saying?” whispered Val.

  Pressing harder against the door, I could barely make out what was being said inside.

  “… regret it. No, I…”

  Lord Pembroke stopped speaking. Then, there was the sound of wild scuffling, followed by a yell from Lord Pembroke.

  “HELP!”

  “Come on,” I said, “I think he’s in trouble.”

  I tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s locked,” I said.

  Barry cursed under his breath.

  “What now?”

  “There’s another door over there,” said Barry, pointing it out with his paw.

  Suddenly, there was a loud blast, as though someone had fired a cannonball. It shook the walls and the ceiling so hard that dust came raining down on our heads.

  “Quickly,” I said.

  Luckily, the other door was unlocked. I tore it open and raced inside.

  We found ourselves in a room with high ceilings, and what must have been thousands and thousands of books. Fine armchairs made of leather surrounded an old-fashioned fireplace.

  “There’s another door to the right,” said Val, pointing at it.

  I flung it open, entering a large bedroom with a four poster bed.

  “Amy, over here,” said Val.

  Leaning against the oak-panelled wall, was a body.

  “It’s Lord Pembroke,” I said, rushing over. “Barry, check if they’re still here!”

  As Barry sprinted into the next room as fast as his feline legs would carry him, I bent down to feel Lord Pembroke’s pulse.

  But there was nothing there. He was dead.

  10

  Val put her hand against her mouth.

  “Is he…?” she asked.

  “He’s dead,” I said.

  “How did he…”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t see any external wounds or anything that…”

  At that moment, Barry came back into the bedroom.

  “Nobody there,” said Barry. “I checked everywhere. Is he…?”

  “Dead,” I said.

  “Here,” said Val, standing a few feet away and pointing to something on the ground. “Amy, look!”

  I walked over to where she was standing.

  Lying at her feet was a thin, finely carved wand. Val picked it up.

  “Amy, that’s…”

  “…mine,” I said grimly.

  This was a witch’s worst nightmare. A capital offence committed with one’s own wand. And only witnesses that any court would consider extremely biased were present to testify that one hadn’t done the deed.

  “They’re trying to frame me,” I said, turning the wand slowly in my hand.

  “Who is?” said Val.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” I said.

  “We’ve got to notify the MLE immediately,” said Barry. “Or that private investigator.”

  “You’re right,” I said, turning to Val. “I need you to notify Alec immediately. Tell him what has happened. If you’re lucky, Harriet might still be patrolling the perimeter outside.”

  “Amy, I’m not going to leave you here,” said Val, crossing her arms.

  “We can’t do this alone, Val,” I said.

  “OK,” she said, “what do I do if she isn’t outside but instead is at home painting her nails or combing her hair or something?”

  “They are officially off the case, Amanda,” Barry interjected.

  “In that case, go to the car. The keys are in my handbag in our room. Drive far enough away from the estate so that you can use your mobile phone again.”r />
  I hastened to a small secretary that stood a few feet away from Lord Pembroke’s bed and hastily wrote down a telephone number.

  “Alec gave me this in case of an emergency,” I said, handing the paper over to Val. “It belongs to a heb friend of his who lives in his street. Tell her that there’s been a murder at the Pembroke estate and that we need backup immediately. She’ll convey the message to Alec.”

  “OK, Amy,” said Val, fear etched across her face. “But where will you be?”

  “Barry and I will put an ending to these killings once and for all,” I said.

  “But you don’t know who it is,” said Val.

  “We’ll be fine, Val,” I said. “As long as we get that backup as quickly as possible.”

  Though I could see that Val was still in an argumentative mood, she finally nodded her head.

  “Be safe,” she said.

  “And you,” I said.

  After giving Barry an affectionate pat on the head, which Barry even forgot to pretend to be angry about for once, she exited Lord Pembroke’s private chambers and rushed down the long staircase as fast as she could.

  “Where do we go from here?” asked Barry. “Val’s right, you know. We don’t have slightest inkling of who is behind all of this.”

  “We’ve got one advantage,” I said. “The murderer had no time after killing Lord Pembroke to get rid of any clues. We’re bound to find something in here.”

  I vaguely indicated the secretary and Lord Pembroke’s library. Though I could see doubt in Barry’s face, he nodded.

  “I’ll examine the body more closely,” he said. “I might be able to glean some more information.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “I’ll start by retracing the killer’s steps.”

  ***

  As Barry began his more in-depth examination of the body, I tried to reconstruct the scene. First, I went back to the landing and counted the seconds we had needed to enter Lord Pembroke’s bedroom.

  Then, I tried to reconstruct the killer’s movements. There were two additional doors leading away from the bedroom, aside from the one we had come through. One of them was locked. That was the door we had tried to enter by first on the landing. The second, therefore, must have offered itself as the only escape route for the killer.