Murder at the Old Abbey

by Pippa McCathie

  “Protests?”

  “She said it wasn’t appropriate for us to go to the pub because of all the gossip, but I got the impression Megan just wanted to get out of the house.”

  “I suppose you can understand her feelings about gossip.”

  “Perhaps, and I think she thought it might be awkward for me. But Megan was insistent, and it was fine. I met Garan and his wife, and Bella, she’s lovely.”

  “Yes, she is. She’s a great friend of mine, and she was a very good friend to your grandfather. I bet you attracted some attention from the locals.”

  Anjali laughed. “A bit, I think. I managed to persuade Megan not to introduce me as her niece, thank goodness.”

  “That’s just as well.”

  There was a pause, then Anjali rushed on. “I’m sorry, Fabia, but I don’t think I can cope with more than a couple of days staying here. I really want to come back to your house on Wednesday, before I go back to London.”

  “Of course you can,” Fabia assured her.

  “And we’ll speak tomorrow, won’t we?”

  “Absolutely, I’ll phone when I get back from the meeting with Megan and my agent.”

  “Please do. I think you’re my doudou at the moment. What is it called in English? Security blanket?”

  “I’m flattered,” Fabia said, smiling, but for a while afterwards she sat frowning at the screen of her phone. The sooner Anjali came back to Pontygwyn, the happier she’d be.

  * * *

  The following morning, Megan was late leaving for her meeting with Fabia’s agent. Fabia had arranged for the manuscript to be downloaded onto her own laptop, since Megan’s was still with the police, but Megan wanted to take a hard copy with her. The trouble was she couldn’t find it. After a frantic search, Nonna ran it to earth on the sideboard in the kitchen. After that Megan couldn’t find her new mobile, and another search ensued. She finally discovered it in the pocket of her coat. Then she wanted to go over how Anjali would occupy herself while she was out.

  “I’m sure you’ll enjoy going around the house, and I’ll get back as soon as I can,” she assured her.

  At last, just before nine, she got going.

  As Anjali went back into the house, Nonna was waiting for her. “Would you like to do that tour of the house now?”

  “Yes, I would,” Anjali said, feeling that it would fill the time until Megan got back.

  “Well, let’s go, I’m looking forward to it,” Nonna said.

  Anjali glanced at her, a little surprised. The older woman sounded so enthusiastic. She’d prepared herself for an unfriendly attitude from Nonna, given what Fabia had told her, and this wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She felt relieved.

  An hour later, having been shown all the rooms on the ground floor and been given a detailed history of their contents, had the identities and life stories of the people in family portraits described to her, and been shown most of the rooms off the gallery, they came back downstairs. As they made their way along to the kitchen, Nonna stopped.

  “I’ll show you the cellars, they’re really interesting.” She fiddled with a piece of the panelling then pushed and it swung open.

  “Wow!” exclaimed Anjali. “I didn’t expect that.”

  Nonna smiled. “This panelling was put in by an ancestor of your grandfather’s, at the time of the Civil War; he wanted to be able to hide from the Roundheads.”

  “Who were they?”

  “The Roundheads? They were followers of Cromwell who fought against Charles I, the rightful, anointed King.” Nonna’s tone of voice showed which side she’d have been on and Anjali noticed that, as she spoke, she stroked at the large crucifix hanging from her neck. “He was murdered by them, and those who’d supported him had to go to ground. Gwilym Mansell, who owned the Abbey in the seventeenth century, was faithful to the King. He was persecuted by the Cromwellians, which is why he created this secret entrance to the cellars, so that the family could hide. Come, I’ll show you.”

  Immediately in front of them Anjali could see a steep stone staircase. Nonna flicked a switch and a naked bulb in the passageway below dimly lit up cobwebs hanging down on all sides. Reluctantly, Anjali followed her down. She didn’t like spiders, nor did she like the atmosphere in this dank place. At the end was a door with heavy iron hinges and an iron ring for a handle.

  “This is the oldest part of the Abbey. We very rarely come down here, in fact I can’t remember the last time any of us did,” Nonna told her. She pulled at the ring and the heavy door quietly swung open.

  “What a place,” said Anjali as she peered into the dark room stretching away in front of them. The only light was from the passageway they stood in, although there was a slight greying of the darkness at the end. There was a steady drip of water and the smell was of damp stone and decay.

  From behind her Nonna pointed. “Can you see over there, to the side where there are small alcoves? It’s believed they were monk’s cells. I expect your grandfather would have known all about it.”

  Anjali leaned forward to look then shuddered and, as she began to step back, away from this awful place, there came a sudden violent blow between her shoulder blades. She fell forward on to the stone floor, hitting her head on the door as she went. For a second, she blacked out, then, as she came to her senses, the slam of the heavy door echoed around her and she was plunged into darkness and complete silence.

  Head ringing and dazed, she crouched there for what seemed like an age, then she pushed herself up and tried to stand, but her knees buckled under her. “Nonna! Open the door!” she screamed, “Nonna! Nonna!” But her voice just echoed eerily around her, and the door stayed firmly closed.

  Chapter 23

  Megan had arrived a little late at Sheena Matthews’ office, but Fabia felt the meeting had gone well. She hadn’t expected Megan to be at all business-like but, as it turned out, she was, and Fabia could tell that Sheena was impressed. After a successful meeting, they emerged into a sunny Cardiff at half past ten.

  Megan gave Fabia an impulsive hug. “Thank you so much. Having the book to think about has really helped over the last few days; it’s kept me from thinking about Da and everything.”

  “I’m glad,” Fabia said.

  “I must get back,” Megan said, “I feel I’ve been neglecting Anjali.”

  “I’m sure she won’t mind, but you get going. I’ve got some shopping to do.”

  Megan strode off toward the multi-storey car park, giving a wave as she went, and Fabia made her way to the city centre in search of a coffee and a bit of retail therapy. On the way she tried Anjali’s phone, but all she got was an automated voice telling her the number wasn’t recognised and suggested she try again later. Fabia frowned, puzzled, then remembered that Megan once said that reception at the Abbey was sometimes patchy. She sent Anjali a quick text and decided she’d try phoning again when she got home. As she put her phone back in her pocket, a text came through, but it wasn’t from Anjali, it was Matt. Her heart leapt, but then plummeted a moment later as she read, “Sorry not to get back to you, v busy, will try to phone later, xxx M.”

  Bugger, she thought, but she’d told him she understood, hadn’t she? She tapped out a quick reply and, no longer interested in coffee or shopping, she retraced her steps through the crowds to pick up her car.

  * * *

  The traffic was unexpectedly heavy, and it took Megan an hour to get home. As she pushed open the front door she called out, “I’m back. Anjali? Nonna?”

  There was no reply, so she made her way to the kitchen, thinking it the most likely place to find them at this time of day, but it was empty. Megan frowned, wondering why there was no sign of preparations for lunch, and where everyone was. Then it occurred to her there’d been no car in the courtyard. Maybe Nonna had taken Anjali out. Feeling a little put out that she hadn’t been included in these plans, she was about to go back along the corridor when she heard footsteps approaching. A moment later, Nonna walked into the room. />
  “Oh, there you are, Megan. Have you been back long?”

  “No, only just this minute. Where’s Anjali?”

  “She’s gone, Megan,” Nonna said quietly. “I’ve just got back from taking her to Newport station.”

  “What? Why?”

  Nonna put a hand on her arm. “Megan, love, sit down, I’ll explain.”

  Megan subsided into a chair and Nonna sat down beside her. “It was all rather upsetting. Just after you left, Anjali had a call from her mother to say her father’s been taken ill. I texted you, didn’t you get it?”

  “No. What do you mean, her father’s ill?”

  “Just that. Her mother asked her to come home immediately.”

  “But–”

  “She was so worried that I suggested she check flights to Mauritius on her laptop. I thought maybe she’d be able to get one in the next couple of days. It turned out the only one with space before next Wednesday was leaving at ten tonight, and we worked out that if she got a train immediately, she’d be able to make it, so she booked it and I took her to the station.”

  “Oh dear, oh dear,” Megan said. “Did she leave a note for me or anything?”

  “No, love, she didn’t have time, but she asked me to tell you how pleased she was she’d met us all.”

  “What about the meeting with John? And the will?”

  “I’m sure John will contact her and sort that out.”

  “Do you think so?” Megan shook her head, completely phased by this development, then she brightened. “She’ll still be on the train, won’t she?”

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  “I’ll phone her now.”

  Megan thought Nonna was going to protest, but then she said, “Good idea.”

  But Anjali didn’t pick up, then or later when Megan tried again, and again. In the end, she phoned Fabia.

  Megan poured out her news at such speed that it took Fabia a while to work out exactly what had happened. Finally, she understood and asked, “So she’s on her way to London?” Fabia was finding the whole thing hard to believe.

  “She should be there by now. Has she contacted you?” Megan asked.

  “No, I tried her earlier but I couldn’t get through. I’ve heard nothing from her since last night.”

  “Maybe her phone’s playing up,” Megan said. “I’m not sure she’d have time to go back to her friend’s flat in Streatham. I don’t know London well enough to work it out.”

  “Her friend might know what’s going on,” Fabia said, feeling a little more hopeful, then her heart sank once more. She had no way of contacting Anjali’s friend. All she knew was that her name was Tania and she lived in Streatham.

  “I think Nonna said the flight leaves from Gatwick, but not until quite late.”

  “She might have contacted John. Do you want me to give him a ring?”

  “Yes please, Fabia. He might know more. I so want to speak to her and make sure she’s planning to come back.”

  “Okay, leave it with me,” Fabia told her, trying to sound calm, but deep down she didn’t feel calm at all.

  It took her a while to get hold of John, but when she did, he said he hadn’t heard anything from Anjali either. In fact, like Fabia, he was completely taken aback by her sudden departure. “What was wrong with her father?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. John, have you got a number for her friend, she’s called Tania, but that’s all I know.”

  “I have, actually. We– er– Anjali gave me Tania’s number, as a sort of– I’ll get on to her.”

  “Please, and get back to me as soon as you can.”

  “Will do.”

  Half an hour later he was back. “Tania says she hasn’t heard from Anjali, and she’s puzzled. She says she spoke to Anjali’s mother early this morning, apparently their mothers are close friends, and nothing at all was said about Anjali’s father being ill.”

  “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this, John.”

  “What do you mean?”

  But Fabia didn’t give him a direct answer. “You keep trying to get hold of her, and I’ll tell Megan to do the same, but I’m going to get on to Matt. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” She ended the call before John could ask any more.

  * * *

  “Right,” Matt said to Dilys as they sat in his office. “Now we’ve got a confession out of him, that about wraps it up, lousy little toad. What is it with these kids and their knives?”

  “They think they need them, for protection,” Dilys said.

  “Protection, my arse!”

  “I know, sir. Don’t let it get to you.”

  “Okay, back to the Mansells.” His mobile rang and he snatched it up and barked, “Lambert,” without looking at the screen.

  “Matt! Thank goodness,” Fabia said. “I need you–”

  “I’m delighted to hear it,” he said, smiling.

  “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Oh?” Matt said.

  “Matt. Listen. It’s Anjali, she seems to have disappeared. I’m really worried.”

  “What do you mean, seems?”

  “She went to stay at the Abbey and now she’s gone off back to London, but I don’t think she has.”

  “Fabia, you’re not making sense,” he said, all the amusement gone from his voice. “Slow down. Just tell me what’s up.”

  She took a deep breath then launched into an explanation, ending with, “And none of us can get hold of her, her father appears to be fine, and we can’t work out where she is. Do you remember what I said about my dream? Well, Anjali was alone at the Abbey with Nonna all morning. I’m so afraid something awful has happened to her.”

  “Okay. We can go up there and ask a few questions.”

  “Would you?”

  “Of course. We’re still on the case when it comes to the Mansells. And you think Mrs Giordano has something to do with all this?”

  “I don’t know, Matt,” Fabia said, her voice agonised. “I know what you mean about my dreams and all that, but I have such a strong feeling about this. Can you do another search?”

  “We can, but I doubt that it’ll turn up anything useful.”

  “Matt!” Fabia exclaimed, frustrated.

  “Alright, leave it with me. I’ll take a team up there now.”

  Fabia found waiting for Matt to get back to her incredibly difficult. She paced about the house, unable to settle to anything, and when he finally rang back, she snatched up her mobile and nearly cut off the call in her haste.

  “I’m afraid we found nothing, and they were none too pleased that we turned up again. Megan Mansell is worried, but accepts that Anjali had to go home; Delma Mansell has taken to her bed with a migraine and didn’t even meet Anjali when she was there; her husband was out, and Mrs Giordano stuck firmly to her story. She was very haughty, all lady of the manor about it all, but she did express a wish that Anjali would come back soon. There’s not much else we can do,” Matt said.

  “Did you search the whole Abbey?”

  “Yes, including the stables.”

  “What about the cellars?”

  “Cellars? What cellars?”

  “Didn’t you know about them?”

  “No. Where the hell are they?”

  “Megan showed me where the entrance is when I was there” Fabia told him. “I think they extend under the oldest part of the Abbey. Megan hates them, that’s why we didn’t go down there.”

  “How do you get to them?”

  “There’s some panelling in the corridor to the kitchen, the central part is actually a door. Some secret mechanism opens it.”

  Fabia could hear Matt take a deep breath. “Right, I’m sticking my neck out for you here, Fabia, you owe me.”

  * * *

  Matt and Dilys had parked at the pub while he phoned Fabia. He ended the call and turned to Dilys.

  “She says there are cellars. Why didn’t we know about them?”

  “I don’t know, sir. How do you get
to them?”

  Matt told her what Fabia said. “I’ve told her we’ll go back.”

  “Okay, sir,” Dilys’s tone was completely neutral but she said, “they were none too pleased when we turned up again this morning, sir.”

  “I know. But I think Fabia might be right.”

  “About Mrs Giordano?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?” She sounded dubious.

  “No, I’m not,” Matt snapped, “But I’ll never forgive myself if she’s right and I didn’t do anything about it.”

  “Okay, sir. Do you want me to ask Dave and Chloe to join us?”

  “Yes, just in case. They’ll only be halfway back to the station.”

  Dilys made the call and Dave told her they’d meet them at the pub. Matt hoped they’d get a move on as their car was attracting attention from the pub’s customers. Although no-one had approached them or tapped on the window to ask why they were there, several people had lingered in the car park, giving them curious glances. Matt was relieved when, ten minutes later, Dave’s car pulled up beside theirs. Quickly he brought them up to date and they drove in convoy up to the Abbey once again.

  This time it was Rodric Mansell who opened the door. At the sight of them he scowled. “What the hell are you back here for? I was told you’d done another search this morning. This is bloody harassment.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid it’s necessary,” Matt said. I hope to God I’m proved right, he thought.

  For a moment there was a stand-off, then Mansell opened the door wider and they all trooped into the hall. A minute later they were joined by Megan and Nonna.

  “What’s going on?” Megan cried.

  And Nonna demanded, “Haven’t you done enough?”

  Matt was firm. “When we were here this morning, we searched the house and the stables, but none of you mentioned the cellars and we were not aware they existed.”

  “Well, of course there are cellars,” Rodric snapped, “this is an old building.”

  “You can’t go down there,” Nonna insisted. “You mustn’t go down there! They’re not safe.”

  Matt caught a strange glance Rodric shot at her, saw Megan open her mouth to speak, then close it again. He decided to probe. “In what way are they not safe?”