by Adele Abbott
“I should be able to work with this, thanks. Just one more thing, though, I notice that the cook, Mrs Jones, isn’t on this list. Will I be able to speak to her too?”
“Of course, but I thought as she’s local, you’d be able to contact her yourself. Is that alright?”
“Absolutely.”
After I’d finished my drink, Caroline leaned back in her chair, and pulled on a long cord. Moments later, Mulgrave came back into the room.
“You rang, madam?”
“Would you show Mrs Maxwell to the games room?”
“Certainly, your ladyship. This way, please, Mrs Maxwell.”
“Thank you for your time, Caroline.” I stood up. “Obviously, I’ll be popping in over the next few days to speak to your relatives.”
“I’ll have Mulgrave prepare one of the reception rooms for your use. If you need me at any time, I’m usually somewhere around.”
The games room was on the opposite side of the house from the dining room, so we walked back through the large entrance hall and down a long corridor.
“Shoo, Harold! You know you shouldn’t be in here.” Mulgrave pushed the large ginger cat off the billiard table. “The goblet was kept on the shelf over there.”
I walked around the billiard table to take a closer look. “Caro—err—Lady Tweaking told me that this room isn’t usually locked?”
“That’s correct, madam. I’m not sure anyone even knows where the key is.”
“And the goblet? Has it always been kept in here?”
“Yes, at least for as long as I’ve worked here.”
“Apart from yourself and Mrs Jones, does Lady Tweaking employ any other domestic staff?”
“No, madam. The family used to, some years ago, but her ladyship had to let them go. Nowadays, she uses an external cleaning company who come in every few weeks, but they only clean certain rooms: The dining room, this room and a couple of the bedrooms. And, of course, the kitchen.”
“Is this games room used often?”
“Not really. When his lordship was alive, he used to enjoy a game of billiards. These days, though, it’s only used when the family visits.”
“As on the night of the birthday dinner?”
“That’s right, madam.”
“Do you know who was in this room that night?”
“I couldn’t say for sure, but I believe Mr Ransom and Mr Dominic were playing billiards.”
“Mr Ransom?”
“Her ladyship’s brother. Mr Dominic is her son.”
“Did anyone else join them?”
“As I said, I can’t be sure, but I don’t think so.”
I walked over to the two large windows which, judging by the thickness of the paint on the frames, hadn’t been opened for a very long time.
“Apart from these windows, I assume the door we came through is the only way in and out of this room?”
“Actually, madam, there is one other way.”
“Oh?” I glanced around, but I could see no sign of another door. “Where’s that?”
Mulgrave walked over to one corner of the room where a large bookcase was standing. He pulled on one of the books on the top shelf, and the whole bookcase slid to one side, to reveal a rather dimly lit passageway.
“Please follow me, madam. Be very careful because it’s quite dark in here, and the floor is rather uneven.”
He wasn’t kidding. I could barely see my hand in front of me, but I just about managed to follow him along the passageway.
“Are there other secret passageways in the house, Mulgrave?”
“A few, yes, but most of them are sealed off now. This is the only one that’s still used regularly.”
After we’d been walking for a few minutes, we came to what appeared to be a dead end. I expected him to turn around, but instead, he touched one of the stones, and the wall in front of us slid to one side. To my surprise, I found myself back in the dining room with Caroline.
“I see Mulgrave has shown you the secret passage.”
“He tells me this is the only one still in regular use.”
“Yes, mainly by the menfolk who like to sneak away for a game of billiards when they think no one will notice.”
“What about the other passageways?”
“Sealed off or forgotten.”
“Forgotten?”
“So the rumours go. According to legend there are ten secret passageways in this house, but we know of only nine: the one you have just walked through and eight others which have been sealed off.”
“And the other one? The tenth?”
“It may or may not even exist. My guess would be that it doesn’t.”
Mulgrave gave me a tour of the rest of the house, but there wasn’t a great deal to see. Most of the rooms were sealed off or empty. It was clear that Caroline now occupied only a small fraction of the house.
“For how long has so much of the building been sealed off, Mulgrave?”
“Only for the last few years. Before that, most of the house was in regular use. Lady Tweaking and his Lordship used to host regular gatherings here. The house was always full of life in those days.”
As I drove to Washbridge, I reflected on the sorry state of Tweaking Manor, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had led to such a rapid decline in the family’s fortunes. I would need to carry out some research into the Tweaking family, to see what I could learn about their current financial problems, and whether that might have any bearing on the disappearance of the goblet.
***
Back at the office building, I could hear sounds coming from down the corridor. Our new neighbours must be in the process of moving in. Whoever they were, it couldn’t be any worse than having a clown school on your doorstep.
More famous last words.
“Good morning, Mrs V.”
“Morning, Jill.”
“Any messages?”
“None so far. It’s been very quiet, but I have found out the name of the business that’s moving in down the corridor. It’s called Bubbles.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw two men carrying the sign upstairs.”
“Bubbles? I suppose it could be one of those places that sell fancy soap.”
“Surely they would need a shopfront.”
“You’re right. What else could Bubbles be, I wonder?”
“I’ve no idea. Intriguing, isn’t it, Jill?”
“Very. Keep your eyes peeled and let me know when you find out more.”
When I walked through to my office, Winky was deep in conversation with another cat. Neither of them appeared to have noticed me, so I went online to search for more information on the Tweaking family. The most recent articles were from six months earlier, and related to a long-standing dispute with HMRC, regarding alleged unpaid taxes. The matter, which had dragged on for a number of years, had finally been decided in favour of HMRC, leaving the Tweaking family, and Caroline in particular, with an enormous tax bill. That explained the dire state of her finances. The article went on to suggest that the family might have to sell Tweaking Manor in order to pay off their debts.
Twenty minutes later, after Winky and his visitor had finished their business, the other cat made his exit through the window.
“What was that all about, Winky?”
“That’s Carl the Coach.”
“What did he want?”
“He’s my life coach.”
“You have a life coach? Since when?”
“I’ve been with him for a couple of months now.”
“And how’s it going?”
“Fantastically well. Anyway, I can’t hang around here, chatting all day. Places to meet, people to go. Later.”
And with that, he too disappeared out of the window.
Chapter 5
I was still thinking about Winky and his life coach when Mrs V popped her head around the door.
“Jill, Mr Edwards is here to see you.”
“Mr Edwards?”
“Don’t you remember? I told you last Friday that he’d made an appointment for today. Didn’t you put it in your diary?”
I took my diary from the drawer and opened it at today’s page. It was blank.
“Err, Mr Edwards. Yes, I have him down here.” Mrs V tried to sneak a look, but I was too quick for her, and snapped the diary closed. “Send him in, please.”
Mr Edwards was eighty-two, but he certainly didn’t dress like an octogenarian. He was wearing trainers, jeans and a bomber jacket, and looked as though he’d just come from an audition for Grease.
“Mr Edwards, do have a seat.”
“Please call me Rusty. Everyone does, on account of my hair.” He ran his fingers through what was left of his white hair.
“Right? Okay, Rusty it is, and I’m Jill. What can I do for you today?”
“I want you to prove to everyone that I haven’t lost my marbles.”
Judging by what I’d seen and heard so far, that might be a tall order.
“That’s quite an unusual request, Rusty. Could you perhaps elaborate a little?”
“Certainly. It all started last Wednesday. I was in my reading room, which is at the rear of the house. I go there whenever I’m in the mood for a cigar. The late Mrs Edwards didn’t approve of my smoking, so she banished me to the reading room. Even though I lost poor Edith a couple of years ago, I still go in there to smoke.” He chuckled. “Just in case her ghost is watching me. Anyway, I was in the reading room, looking through my binoculars when—”
“Sorry to interrupt, Rusty, but did you just say binoculars?”
“That’s right. My property backs onto Wash Green Park. Do you know it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s only a small park. I like to look at the wildlife, particularly the squirrels. I do love a good squirrel, don’t you?”
“Err, yeah. I guess.”
“I was watching one particular squirrel, as it ran up the side of a tree, when I noticed movement in one of the properties on the opposite side of the park. A man and a woman were standing next to the window. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, and I was just about to look away when I saw her shoot him.”
“She shot him? Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. She held out a gun and let him have it. The poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”
“What did you do?”
“Called the police of course, but they didn’t take me seriously at first.”
“Why ever not? You’d just witnessed a shooting. Possibly a murder.”
“I’ve had a few issues previously with the local police.”
“What kind of issues?”
“There was the incident with the roundabout.”
“Roundabout?”
“Some kids were pushing it in an anti-clockwise direction.”
“I see. Err, actually, no I don’t see. What’s wrong with that?”
“Everyone knows that roundabouts should turn clockwise.”
“Right. Any other incidents?”
“There were the pigeons.”
“What about them?”
“They were taking bread that was clearly intended for the ducks.”
“And you contacted the police about that?”
“Naturally.”
“When you contacted them about the shooting, what happened?”
“They did eventually send someone, but the officer who called to see me seemed more interested in why I was using binoculars to look into other people’s houses. I told him about the squirrels, but I’m not sure he believed me. Anyway, to cut a long story short, he did eventually go over to the property.”
“What did he find?”
“According to the policeman, the couple who live there were both alive and well, and they denied any knowledge of the incident that I’d witnessed.”
“What happened next?”
“Nothing. As far as the police were concerned, no crime had been committed, so that was an end to it. That was bad enough, but they as good as insinuated that I was a sandwich short of a—err—”
“Picnic?”
“I couldn’t just now, thanks. I have a lot on today.”
“No, I meant—never mind. You were saying that the police had made certain insinuations?”
“Yes. That I was a crazy old man, and even some kind of Peeping Tom, spying on my neighbours.”
“That’s awful.”
“It certainly is. I will not simply stand by and allow my reputation to be besmirched in that way, which is where you come in, young lady.”
“What exactly is it you want from me?”
“The only way to clear my name is to prove that I did in fact see what I reported.”
“The shooting?”
“Correct. Are you up for the challenge?”
“Sure, but I’m going to need a lot more information from you.”
“Of course. Why don’t we continue this discussion at my place? That way I can show you my reading room and point out the property in question.”
“That sounds like a plan. I could pop over tomorrow, or is that too soon?”
“Tomorrow works for me.” He stood up. “Give me a call about an hour before you intend to come over and I’ll put the kettle on.”
He’d no sooner left the office than Winky jumped onto my desk.
“Rusty is quite a character, isn’t he?” I said.
“Hmm. Character is one word for him. Nutjob is a better one.”
“What do you mean? He seems harmless enough.”
“You surely didn’t buy into that story of his, did you? Using the binoculars to look at squirrels? The man is clearly a Peeping Tom.”
“That’s a bit rich coming from you,” I scoffed. “It’s not that long ago that you had a telescope in here.”
“That was totally different. I was stargazing, as well you know.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
I heard voices in the outer office, so being the curious (okay, nosy) person I am, I went to see who it was. Mrs V was in conversation with a woman of about the same age.
“Maud, this is my boss, Jill Maxwell.”
“I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs Maxwell.” She held out her gloved hand. “I’m Mrs Mizus.”
“Mrs Mrs?”
“That’s right.”
“Sorry, I must have misheard. Mrs—?”
“Mizus.”
I was still puzzled, and it must have shown because Mrs V came to my rescue. “Maud Mizus. M-I-Z-U-S.”
“Oh, Mrs Mizus. I thought you said Mrs Mrs. Like, Mrs squared.” I laughed. “I imagine you get that a lot.”
“No.” Mrs Mizus said, stony-faced. “This is the first time.”
“Right. Just me, then.”
“Maud is something of an internet star,” Mrs V said.
“I wouldn’t go that far, Annabel.” Mrs Mizus waved away the idea.
“It’s true. She has over one thousand followers, Jill.”
“Right.” I did my best to sound suitably impressed. “That’s—err—fantastic.”
“I wondered if I might give it a try,” Mrs V said. “Going online, I mean. But Maud says it’s probably too complicated for me.”
“You never have been very technically minded, have you, Annabel?” Maud said.
“Not really. It takes me all my time to use the TV remote.”
***
Later that same afternoon, I had a surprise visitor.
I hadn’t seen Mad for almost three years, since she’d relocated to the Glasgow office.
“You’re looking great, Mad. Grab a seat, and I’ll get Mrs V to make us a drink.”
“Don’t bother with the drink. I can’t stay for more than a few minutes. I only popped in to let you know that I’m back.”
“Just visiting, I assume?”
“No, I’m back to stay. Actually, I’ve been here for almost a month, b
ut I’ve been so busy that I’ve not had the chance to get in touch.”
“Are you still doing the ghost hunting?”
“What else would I do?”
“How come you’re back here?”
“Good question. I thought I’d finally seen the back of Washbridge, but then I got a call from the powers-that-be, so here I am again. Like a bad penny.”
“Don’t be daft. I for one am glad you’re back. This place wasn’t the same without you.”
“That’s nice of you to say. I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch as often as I should have, but I was really busy up in Scotland.”
“Don’t give it a second thought. I know what it’s like to be busy, trust me. Anyway, you’re here now, so you can update me on all your news.”
“There’s not much to report, really.” She grinned and held out her left hand.
“You’re married?”
“Yep. Two months ago.”
“You dark horse. How come I didn’t get an invitation to the wedding?”
“No one did. Brad, that’s my husband, and I both decided we didn’t want a big affair. For obvious reasons, I didn’t want my family there, and Brad doesn’t have any family to speak of. We booked a date at the local register office, grabbed a couple of witnesses off the street, and Bob’s your uncle.”
I resisted the urge to make my usual observations vis-à-vis the whole Uncle Bob thing.
“That’s great. Where are you living now?”
“We have an apartment over by the river. You’ll have to come and see it some time.”
“I’d love to. Does Brad know that you’re a ghost hunter?”
“Yeah, I told him about six months ago.”
“Won’t that land you in trouble? Telling him, I mean.”
“Not really. Luckily, I don’t have to worry about rogue retrievers. And anyway, Brad knows he can’t tell a soul.”
“He must have been a bit freaked out when you told him, wasn’t he?”
“At first, yeah. He thought I was drunk, but I managed to convince him in the end, and he seems to have got used to the idea now.”
