by S M Hardy
‘She is very beautiful,’ Emma said.
‘In a dark and psychotic way.’
‘How do you think she did it?’
‘What?’
She tutted. ‘Murder Simon, of course.’
I took a sip of my whisky and thought about it. ‘We don’t know for certain that she did,’ I said, but it was only a half-hearted argument. I was pretty sure Emma was on the money and I would really like to know how she did it too. She’d only had about fifteen minutes according to the doctor and he said Simon’s heart had simply stopped. ‘Perhaps she scared him to death.’
Emma shivered. ‘Don’t even joke about it.’
I felt a sudden chill sweep over me too. ‘I wasn’t. Not really.’
‘Do you mind if we go riding this morning?’ Emma asked Laura over breakfast.
Laura stifled a yawn. Her complexion was pale and her eyes were underlined by dark smudges. ‘No, of course not.’
‘I mean if you were planning to …’ Emma tailed off.
‘No, I might go for a trot later this afternoon, but I have a couple of things I want to do this morning. I thought I’d take a proper tour of the house. You know – to see what’s what and’ – she grimaced – ‘I guess I ought to phone the hospital to see what I have to do about arranging Uncle Simon’s funeral.’
‘Do you want us to deal with that?’ I asked.
Laura gave me a tentative smile. ‘Would you? Are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Leave it to me. I’ll give them a ring this afternoon. I might even pop over there. I can collect his few bits and pieces Donald Walters took in.’
‘Thank you so much. I must admit I was dreading it.’
‘No problem.’
Emma frowned at me over the top of her teacup. I knew the look, it was of the ‘what the hell are you up to now?’ variety. I smiled at her sweetly and she gave a resigned shake of the head. She knew me too well for my own good.
‘What was that all about over breakfast?’ she asked as soon as we were back inside our room.
‘How do you mean?’
She huffed at me. ‘You know very well what I mean. About you dealing with the funeral.’
‘You can’t really expect poor Laura to have to sort that out and, with Brandon gone, there’s no one else.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re up to something, Jed Cummings, don’t think I can’t see right through you.’
I swept her into my arms and gave her a peck on the lips. ‘I want to find out if the hospital has a cause of death yet.’
‘And what if they haven’t? Or they say it was natural causes?’
‘Then, my sweet, I will have to do a bit more digging or lean on the goodly detective inspector to do it for me.’
‘You think he will?’
‘What has he got to lose? We could have made things very difficult for him and we didn’t.’
‘We can’t trust him.’
‘Maybe not, but when it comes to Oliver’s death, he has no good reason not to do his job.’
‘Other than Tanith Bloxborough,’ Emma said, with a sniff.
‘Now, her I really would like to meet.’
‘Really? She would eat you for breakfast.’ Emma wriggled her shoulders. ‘I could well believe she is a Satanist.’
I kissed the end of her nose. ‘Now there I tend to agree with you.’
She put her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a big kiss and my mobile started to ring.
‘Typical,’ I said, with a sigh. She grinned at me as I groped in my pocket for my phone. ‘Yep.’
‘Mr Cummings?’
‘Who is this?’
‘Derek, Derek Davis – the vet.’
‘Oh, hello there. How are you?’
‘Yeah, good thanks. I thought I should give you a call. I’ve had the blood results back for Angel.’
I transferred the phone to my other hand. ‘And?’
‘Her blood showed a large dose of something unusual, we’re not sure exactly what, but it seems to be some sort of stimulant and in the levels detected it is possible it caused her hyperactivity and anxiety.’
‘Could it have been administered accidently?’
There was a slight pause on the other end of the phone. ‘No, in the amounts we found it would be highly unlikely.’
‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘No problem. If you could let Dan Crouchley know I’d be grateful.’
‘Sure thing.’
I finished the call and frowned into space. So, Angel had been drugged and, if I were a betting man, I’d put money on the shots being deliberately fired to spook the poor thing. But why?
‘Earth to planet Jed.’ Soft fingers under my chin lifted my head so she could look in my eyes. ‘I take it your call was from the vet.’
‘Hmm.’
‘And?’
I glanced at the phone still clutched in my hand and dropped it into my pocket. ‘He says Angel was drugged.’
‘So was it a serious attempt on Laura’s life or a warning?’
‘Exactly what I was wondering.’
It was Emma’s turn to stare into space. ‘None of it makes any sense’ she said eventually.
‘No,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t – yet. Give it time. Shall we go for that ride?’
‘I would be interested to hear what Dan Crouchley can tell us about the history of Kingsmead and this lord who built the place. Maybe Satanism is a family tradition,’ she said, and I don’t think she was joking; her expression was serious enough.
The ever-present burble of a radio greeted us as we entered the stable yard, but was the only sign of life. It didn’t help that as we walked across the flagstones, we were passed by the shades of two laughing children, a boy and a girl, running towards the front of the house. The girl’s fair hair streamed out behind her, disappearing into mist, and her blue smock clung to her skinny legs showing white, wrinkled stockings. She was giggling. The boy, also fair and perhaps a year or two older, raced after her, the leather soles of his boots slapping the stone slabs. He wasn’t quite as clear as the girl, his clothing, a white shirt and grey breeches and socks, blending into the stone walls behind him.
It was strange. Although I had always seen and heard the dead, they had been like shadows or smoky phantoms – that was until eighteen months or so ago. I had met a man who had been so close to them he would mistake the dead for living people. I hadn’t had that experience and I hoped to God I never did, but the visions I’d been having recently were a new experience and the apparitions I now saw, particularly here at Kingsmead, were clearer and more tangible. It made them real and sometimes it made my heart ache for the people they had once been.
Emma paused mid stride with a little frown as they ran by, but was otherwise blissfully unaware of their presence. It was better that way. Seeing children was always worse. They didn’t usually have anything to say, they were only being the children they should have been, but when they did have reason to speak, by the cringe it could sometimes be harrowing.
Angel’s head appeared over the door to her stall as we entered the stable block. She whinnied softly and Emma stopped to pet her head. I carried on along the row of stalls following the music. A wheelbarrow full of steaming manure and straw sat outside Jericho’s stall.
Dan was inside, still mucking out. ‘Morning, Dan.’
He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Good morning to yer,’ he said, putting down the shovel he was using and wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. ‘You be wanting to go for a ride this fine morning?’
‘If it’s no trouble.’
‘No trouble at all. It does them good to have a good run. Ald Walters and I can only do so much.’
‘Has Satan been out?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Then maybe you’ll join us.’
Dan stood there studying my face for a few moments. ‘I’d be glad to,’ he said, though his expression said otherwise.
CHAPTER NINETEE
N
I took a good look at Angel before Emma mounted her. Her eyes were bright and she kept pushing her huge brow against my shoulder begging to be petted, so I guessed she was pretty calm. I knew Laura had ridden the mare since her fall, but Laura wasn’t my Emma and after the incident in the poolroom I was more than a little protective. It hadn’t gone unnoticed; when I looked over my shoulder Emma was smiling to herself.
‘You can’t be too careful,’ I mumbled.
‘Don’t worry,’ Dan said. ‘I’ve been keeping a close eye on them and their feed.’
‘Keep doing it,’ I said, and his eyes narrowed.
He glanced around the yard. ‘You’ve heard from the veterinary.’
‘You were right,’ I told him. ‘Angel had been given some sort of drug.’
He muttered an expletive under his breath as he hauled himself up onto Satan.
I waited until we were away from the yard and had left the track to trot across open fields before I said any more. Call me suspicious, but unless they, whoever they were, had directional mikes they couldn’t overhear us out here.
I pulled Jericho to a halt. ‘OK,’ I said to Dan. ‘Spill it.’
He stopped beside me and sort of slumped down in the saddle. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Don’t play games with me, Dan. Three people are dead, five if you include Laura’s parents. What the hell is going on?’
He exhaled slowly. ‘If I knew I’d tell you, but honest to God, I don’t – not really.’
‘Not really?’
He dragged his fingers through his curly locks and quickly looked around. ‘Let’s go somewhere we can’t be seen from the house,’ he said, and it was then that I realised I perhaps wasn’t as paranoid as I thought.
Dan took us out of the fields and onto a track that ran around the edge of the woodland. Once we had rounded an outcrop and entered another field, where we were hidden from view if anyone from the house should be watching, he drew Satan to a halt.
He started off more or less where we’d left off. ‘I’m an outsider and below stairs it’s a closed club where newcomers aren’t welcome.’
‘The servants, you mean?’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘If ald Walters and his wife could get rid of me they would. Trouble is they need me. He hasn’t time to deal with the livestock and the lad, Sebastien, is a bit slack in the head, if you know what I mean. So, as long as I keep my nose out of their business they put up with me.’
‘It didn’t sound like it the other day. You and Donald Walters were really going at it.’
‘Huh,’ he grunted. ‘That be young Maddy’s doing.’
‘You should leave her alone,’ I said.
He burst out laughing. ‘Don’t you start. I’ve not touched the little madam and I’m not going to, either. Too much like hard work, that one.’ His shoulders sagged. ‘Look, there is something going on and it’s been causing ructions downstairs, but as soon as I walk in on a conversation it stops dead. I know ald Walters and his wife are deeply unhappy. When Mr Oliver died it was like a cloud had lifted off the whole place, then Mr Simon arrived and within a couple of days it all went back to the way it was before.’
‘Why’s that, do you think?’ Emma asked.
He shook his head. ‘I don’t rightly know. I don’t think it was Mr Simon. He never came across as too demanding and I never heard any of them moaning about him – and they would. They can moan for England, that lot.’
‘This business in the forest,’ I said. ‘Have you noticed anything in there before?’
He gave me a strange look. ‘How do you mean?’ He said it as though he knew something but wasn’t about to say unless I gave him some encouragement.
‘Traces of any unusual activity in the clearing before Oliver’s death? Or even after, I suppose?’
His expression became guarded. ‘You answer me a question first. Why are you here? Now?’
I studied his face as he studied mine. There was something about him that made me think he was more than a mere stable hand. Then I remembered the university degree – if it was the truth and not a fabrication to impress his attractive employer.
‘Simon and I served together in the forces. I was his friend.’
‘Rumour below stairs is that you and he had a falling-out.’
I frowned. How on earth would they know that? It had been decades ago and long before any of the present servants had been employed by the Pomeroys. Or maybe not − I thought I’d recognised Donald Walters. Maybe I should ask the question.
‘How would you know? I thought they didn’t talk to you.’
His laugh was bitter. ‘Oh, they talk all right, just not to me or about anything that matters while I’m about.’
‘Except for Maddy?’
His lips quivered into a smile. ‘Yeah, except Maddy, though she doesn’t say much, at least about anything I’m interested in. So, getting back to my question – why are you here?’
Emma touched my knee. ‘Jed,’ she said and gave a nod towards Dan. She was usually a good judge of character and an ear below stairs would be useful. I decided to chance it.
‘At one time Simon knew me about as well as a friend could. Although I never publicised the fact, he soon found out I could see and hear things other people can’t.’
Dan’s face broke into a grin. ‘I was right – you do have the sight!’ I didn’t deny it nor did I tell him he was right. I wanted to see where this was going. ‘I wondered why ald Walters was all shook up when he came back from taking you to where it happened.’
‘What do you mean?’ Emma asked. ‘He seemed all right when he left us. In fact, he very kindly offered to come back for us.’
Dan snorted. ‘Huh, probably to try and earwig on what you had to say. I saw him when he got back to the yard – all sweetness and light and quiet concern with Mr Simon until he went inside. As soon as he’d gone, ald Walters took on a face like he’d lost a fifty and found a fiver and stalked off into the kitchen.’
‘Did you hear anything that was said about it below stairs?’
Satan stamped his feet, getting restless and Dan reined him around. ‘Let’s give these animals a bit of a run and then we can talk,’ he said and, before I could stop him, took off at a gallop.
‘You up to it?’ I asked Emma.
‘Don’t you worry about me,’ she laughed. ‘I’ll catch you up.’
As I urged Jericho on I couldn’t help but grin. I had missed this. Simon, Reggie and I, when we’d stormed across the estate, we’d felt like kings.
Jericho had the wind under his tail. He pounded after his stable mate and, despite Satan’s massive size and strength, Jericho was catching him. Dan must have heard us coming. He glanced over his shoulder, his hair blowing around his face, and started to laugh and I did too. Then I caught him, and I was galloping along beside him, then passing him. I was on top of the world.
I could see the edge of the field coming up and began to slow to a canter, to a trot and then stopped.
‘Good lad,’ I said, leaning forward to stroke Jericho’s neck. He stomped and blew air through his nose, feeling pleased with himself, I’d imagine; he’d beat his bad-lad stable mate good and proper.
Dan trotted over to stand beside us. ‘He thinks he’s a racer, don’t you, lad,’ he said, reaching over to ruffle his mane.
I could see Emma in the distance. She was cantering towards us at a more leisurely pace. I was kind of relieved. It wasn’t that I didn’t think she was capable: after Laura’s fall I was more – shall we say – wary.
As Dan watched her coming towards us he said, ‘Did you see who did it? Who murdered Mr Oliver?’ His eyes didn’t leave Emma.
‘What if I did? No one other than Emma and Simon would believe me.’
‘I think ald Walters would.’ He gave me a sideways glance. ‘If I were you, I’d pack your bags and take your lady wife well away from this place.’
‘Why?’ I asked, although I’d been thinking about it p
ractically non-stop since Brandon’s murder.
‘If you saw who did it they’d probably do almost anything to make sure you kept it to yourself. Look at poor ald Fredricks. They obviously thought he knew something that could harm them.’
‘They? Them? Who are you talking about, Dan?’
He met my stare. ‘If you saw, you know.’ And it hit me – he knew about the cult.
‘Why don’t you tell me what you know?’
His eyes returned to watching Emma. She was almost upon us. ‘The Pomeroys are evil; always have been, always will be. Did you take a look at their history?’
‘I was hoping you might enlighten me. I understand you’ve a degree in it.’
He grimaced. ‘Laura?’ I nodded. ‘As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew it was a mistake. Let’s hope she doesn’t mention it to anyone else.’
‘Would it matter?’
‘It could do. Everyone here thinks I’m an uneducated Irish oik who’ll do anything to earn a bit of filthy lucre before I’m off on my way again, and I’d prefer it remained that way.’
‘You’ve been at Kingsmead a while.’
‘Probably longer than’s good for my health.’
‘Then why don’t you move on?’
Another bitter smile. ‘Mr Simon was your friend – is that why you’re staying? To find out what happened to him and his brother?’
‘That and I promised Laura I would stay until she’s settled.’
‘Well, I made a promise to someone too, one I intend to keep, and I’ll stay at this cursed place until I do.’
I was about to ask what he meant when Emma joined us. Taking in our expressions she lost her smile. ‘What have I missed?’
‘I have to get back,’ Dan said.
‘We can talk as we ride,’ I said.
‘You’re a persistent old sod,’ he said, which made me laugh despite myself.
‘Oh yeah,’ I said, ‘and you have no idea how persistent I can be if I put my mind to it.’
We started back towards the house in a loose line, but close enough so we could talk. ‘You were going to tell me about the history of the Pomeroys,’ I reminded him.
