by H. Y. Hanna
“Mew!” cried Nibs, excited to see his big friend. He put out a little black paw through the bars and batted at the mastiff.
Bran wagged his tail excitedly, then raised one of his own enormous paws and batted the cat carrier in return. The impact sent the carrier flying through the air, to crash against the side of a wheelbarrow a few feet away. The door sprang open and Nibs tumbled out.
“Nibs!” gasped Caitlyn.
She started to rush across the stable yard but before she could reach the carrier, she saw the little kitten get up and shake himself. He seemed none the worse for wear. In fact, he gave Bran a taunting look and, with a cheeky “Mew!”, scampered off, obviously inviting his big friend to a game of chase. The mastiff gave a delighted bark and bounded after him.
Nibs darted across the stable yard, heading straight for James and his horse, Arion. The Percheron stallion was normally renowned for his calm temperament but even he startled, snorting and stamping, when a ball of fluff appeared out of nowhere and darted between his legs. And when Bran bounded up and tried to follow Nibs through the horse’s legs, the stallion had had enough. He gave an angry neigh and reared up.
“Whoa, Arion... whoa!” said James, attempting to calm his mount as they wheeled in a circle.
He tightened the reins and glanced down, obviously worried that the stallion might have stepped on Nibs, but somehow the kitten had avoided the stamping hooves. He was bouncing around the horse, his little tail up and his whiskers quivering with excitement, obviously thinking it was all a wonderful game. Bran lumbered after him, causing even more havoc as he tried to swing his massive body around to match the kitten’s movements. The stallion snorted angrily again, side-stepping around the other two animals and looking as if he would rear again. It took all of James’s strength to control him.
“Nibs! Stop it! Come back here!” cried Caitlyn, embarrassed and exasperated.
She chased after the kitten and tried to grab him, but the baby cat was quick. He evaded her hands easily, scampering across the stable yard, until he reached the small side gate leading to the area behind the manor. Caitlyn had left it ajar when she had rushed back into the stable yard, and now Nibs ran towards the opening. In a flash he was through the gap and out of sight. Bran tried to follow but stopped as he reached the semi-open gate, his brow furrowing in puzzlement. Caitlyn realised that he couldn’t figure out how to push the door open wider so that he could fit through.
“You know, I always knew that mastiffs weren’t the brightest of dogs, but this is the first time I’ve actually been glad of that,” said James with a chuckle beside her.
Caitlyn turned to see that he had dismounted and handed Arion over to one of the stablehands, and was now standing next to her. He followed as she hurried over to the gate and peered out. She couldn’t see Nibs anywhere and her heart sank as she took in the long row of outbuildings, stretching towards the woods. The kitten could have been hiding anywhere!
She turned back to James with an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry—I hope Arion wasn’t hurt or anything.”
“Don’t be silly—it wasn’t your fault,” said James with a smile. “If anything, it was my stupid dog, knocking that cat carrier flying like that.” He turned and pretended to give Bran a mock glare. The mastiff panted amiably at them, his expression still slightly baffled.
“Bran was only playing,” said Caitlyn. “And it was Nibs who teased him. Anyway, I’d better go and find the little monkey...”
“I’ll come with you,” said James quickly, stepping through the gate after her and making sure to shut it behind him, so that Bran couldn’t follow.
They wandered amongst the outbuildings, calling for the kitten, but there was no sign of him. Finally, as they approached the last few buildings, they heard a faint “Mew!” up ahead.
“Nibs? Nibs, where are you?” Caitlyn called.
The faint cry sounded again. It seemed to be coming from the trees beyond the last building.
“Sounds like he might have gone into the woods,” James said, eyeing the trees.
“Great. More muddy puddles and prickly thorns,” grumbled Caitlyn. At James’s questioning look, she explained, “I wandered into the woods earlier and got caught on some bramble bushes. They’ve got some pretty vicious thorns!”
James winced in sympathy. “Yes, they have. I hope you didn’t get badly scratched?”
“Just a bit. It could have been worse, though—I was lucky. Oh, when I was circling back, I came across this strange structure. I think it must have been part of the house once, because there was a path leading to it, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. It looked a bit like a big stone igloo, with a dome over a pit in the ground—”
“Ah, you must have found the old icehouse,” said James with a smile.
“Icehouse?” Caitlyn looked at him quizzically.
James raised his eyebrows. “Haven’t you heard of them? They were very popular during Victorian times. Ice cream was just coming into vogue then and it was also the first time people started chilling their drinks and foods. Refrigeration hadn’t been invented yet, but what they did was cut blocks of ice from a nearby lake or river during the winter and store them in icehouses.”
Caitlyn raised her eyebrows. “You mean... the ice just sat there? It didn’t melt?”
“No, the icehouses were designed to make the most of natural insulation—it’s why they were built partly underground—and the blocks were covered with straw and other material. They would often last until September of the following year and provide a steady supply of ice for the household.” James looked into the trees. “I’d actually forgotten about the icehouse. It hasn’t been used in decades; it’s probably a heritage-listed site now. Hmm... I wonder if I could restore it and open it up to the public as an attraction.”
“You’d have to do a lot of cleaning up first. The area around it is completely overgrown and the structure looks really worn—some of the bricks inside are crumbling.”
James gave her a look of concern. “Did you go in? I thought the door was locked. The ice pit is fairly deep—you could injure yourself if you fell in.”
“Well, right now, you’d just be going for a very cold swim!” said Caitlyn with a wry laugh. “It seems to have filled up with water, maybe from the recent rains. That area slopes down from here and would probably get a lot of the run-off. The lock on the door was broken,” she added.
“Hmm... I’d better get that fixed as soon as possible. Although we’re a private estate, we do get regular visitors from the village and beyond, and there are a lot of additional staff and workmen at the moment while we’re renovating the coach house. I’d hate for someone to wander in and have an accident... Anyway, let’s find Nibs first, then I can get back to the house and sort it out.”
They decided to split up to search the area and Caitlyn headed off in the direction she had gone earlier. She had a vague idea that Nibs might have somehow picked up her scent and was following her earlier route. Sure enough, she soon came across the big tangle of bramble bushes she had been stuck in, and saw the little black kitten sitting beside the puddle that she had fallen into. He gave a mischievous chirrup as he saw her and before she could rush over and grab him, he’d trotted off down the track which led into the undergrowth.
“Oh, Nibs!” Caitlyn gave an irritated huff and hurried after him.
A few minutes later, she found herself looking at the worn brick façade of the icehouse once more. She saw Nibs disappearing around the curve of the structure and she raced after him, reaching the front just in time to see him dart into the open doorway.
“Nibs! Come back here!” she called in exasperation.
A faint “Mew!” drifted back out.
Caitlyn hesitated in the doorway, then plunged into the darkness.
It was not easy seeing a black kitten against the greater darkness within, but thankfully Nibs’s yellow eyes caught the light shining through the doorway, looking like topaz gemstones in the dar
kness.
“Mew?”
Caitlyn went slowly, feeling her way with her hands outstretched until her eyes slowly acclimatised again to the dim interior. She realised that the kitten was standing inside the large domed chamber, right by the edge of the pit. She stopped, wondering how to proceed. She didn’t want to excite the kitten or frighten him into jumping into the water by mistake. Lowering her voice and speaking as calmly as she could, she approached cautiously.
“Here, Nibs... Come on... Be a good boy... Come away from there...” she coaxed, inching towards him.
“Mew?”
Caitlyn crept closer, then lunged forwards suddenly and scooped the kitten up. “Gotcha!” she said, elated.
She expected the kitten to start squirming and struggling to get free, but to her surprise he lay still in her arms. She realised that his attention was fixed on something in the pool at the bottom of the pit. Slowly, she leaned over and peered into the darkness, then felt a wave of shock wash over her.
There was something in the water.
She blinked and looked again, her breath catching in her throat. Had she imagined it? Perhaps it had been a trick of the light—
No. It was there. The unmistakable shape of a body floating in the black water.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? You’re looking very pale.”
Caitlyn looked up from where she was sitting to see James regarding her with tender concern. She was so grateful that he had been there when she had stumbled out of the icehouse, numb with shock and barely able to tell him what she had seen. He had gone immediately into the icehouse himself and had returned a few minutes later, his face grim, and they had walked back to the stables in silence. As soon as he had seen her safely into the stable courtyard, James had gone to call the police whilst Caitlyn had clutched Nibs to her, ignoring the kitten’s protests, and sat down on a bale of hay beside the empty stalls, her mind whirling.
As if sensing her distress Bran had come over and leaned his huge body against her—which she had found strangely comforting—and Caitlyn could still feel the mastiff’s heavy weight against her legs now. She took a deep breath, releasing Nibs at last and setting him down on the ground, then looked up at James with a wan smile, feeling slightly ashamed of her reaction.
“I’m all right. It was just a shock... I think especially because I’d been in the icehouse just an hour or so earlier and I’d looked into the ice pit and seen the empty pool of water... it was horrible looking again and seeing a body...” She shuddered at the memory. “You almost go into a sort of denial, you know? Like you don’t want to believe that it’s really a person in there. And then... I had a sort of second shock as I realised who it was. I couldn’t see her face but I saw that red hair and I knew... I mean, anyone could have dyed red hair, but I remember thinking how bright and artificial hers looked when I first met her yesterday... and then... and then I thought maybe she’d fallen in by mistake and just needed help to get out and I was going to call her name, tell her to grab hold of my hand—” Caitlyn stopped suddenly as she realised that she was babbling. She took a deep breath, giving James another shamefaced look. “Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine—it helps to talk it out sometimes,” he said gently. He hesitated and, for a moment, Caitlyn thought that he was going to put his arm around her, then he glanced at the busy stable yard around them filled with people and patted her arm in an awkward manner instead.
Caitlyn gave him a hopeful look. “I don’t suppose... it could have been an accident?”
James’s expression darkened. “No. You weren’t there when we pulled her out. It was clear as soon as her body came out of the water: her hands had been tied behind her back and her legs had been bound too. In fact,” he hesitated, as if unsure whether to tell her, “she was actually tied to a stool.”
“To a stool?” Caitlyn stared at him.
James nodded. “She must have been sitting on it when she was thrown into the water, stool and all. There was no way she could swim to save herself. Whoever had done it had made very sure that she would drown.” James paused, then said grimly, “Minerva Chattox was murdered.”
Caitlyn shivered. She’d already suspected the truth, but hearing it stated baldly like that still made a chill run down her back.
James sighed. “I have to confess, I knew that there was a lot of ill-feeling towards her in the village, but I didn’t think anyone would stoop to murder.”
Caitlyn bit her lip, the memory of her morning at the dairy farm coming back to her. She thought of the hatred in Vera Bottom’s voice as she talked about ridding the village of the evil witch presence, and wondered just how far that woman would go to achieve her ends. Before she could say anything to James, however, the police arrived. Mosley the butler showed Inspector Walsh to the stable yard, then led the rest of the forensics team into the woods to recover the body. He had also, thoughtfully, brought a tray with hot drinks, and Caitlyn cradled the mug of hot, sweet tea gratefully as she answered Inspector Walsh’s questions.
“...and you say you saw her alive and well just an hour before?” the detective asked after she had recounted her discovery of the body.
“Well, I’m not sure how long it was exactly, but yes, it was probably about an hour. I told you, I heard her having a nasty argument with someone in the woods and then she stormed past me, in the direction of the Manor.”
“And her companion?”
“I didn’t see him... or her.”
Inspector Walsh gave her a sharp look. “You don’t know?”
Caitlyn shrugged helplessly. “It sounded like a man, but it could also have been a woman. It was a bit hard to tell because he or she was so angry, and their voice was quite harsh.”
“Hmm... and you are sure it was Minerva Chattox that you saw in the woods?”
“Definitely. Her bright red hair and that costume she wore... besides, I recognised her voice.”
“But there was nothing familiar about her companion’s voice? You do realise that he or she was very likely the murderer?”
Caitlyn shook her head regretfully. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t pick up anything... The thing is, I’ve been thinking: I must have found Minerva soon after she was thrown into the water, so whoever killed her would very likely have still been in the vicinity—and definitely still on the estate. There’s only one driveway which leads down to the main gates and unless they had a car, they would’ve had to hitch a ride with someone who drove past on the road outside. Can’t you just get your men to round up everyone in the area, question them, and see if they have an alibi? Especially the staff at the Manor?”
“It’s not as simple as you seem to think, Miss Le Fey. The grounds are vast and while there is only one main entrance to the parklands, there are numerous other unofficial entry and exit points from the boundaries. For example, there are paths leading into the lands of adjoining estates. Furthermore, the estate does not just end with the grounds of Huntingdon Manor—don’t forget that it extends into the forest over and beyond the hill, and also includes the village of Tillyhenge itself. He or she may have escaped into the woods and then out to the village on the other side of the hill.”
“Yes, but then you could see who is missing. By disappearing, that would point to their guilt, wouldn’t it?”
“You’re assuming that the killer is someone local, who would be missed. They may have been someone who came in from the outside. In any case, my boys will certainly be questioning everyone in the vicinity, but with such a large area and so many people, it will be almost impossible to establish all their movements. And may I remind you, young lady, that a lack of alibi does not automatically make a person guilty.”
Caitlyn ducked her head meekly. “Yes, you’re right.” She glanced at James, who had been standing beside them, listening, and she suddenly realised that she had been practically accusing a member of his staff. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to imply that someone working at the Manor is a murderer,”
she added, giving him an apologetic look.
“It’s all right; it’s a fair assumption, although I find it very hard to believe that any of my staff would do something so heinous,” said James. “I interview them all personally before taking them on and I make stringent enquiries into their background and character.”
Caitlyn thought of Amelia, the maid who had attempted to steal some of the Manor’s valuables (albeit supposedly to support her sick mother), and who had been forgiven and allowed to remain on the staff. If James Fitzroy had a fault, it was that he could be too generous and forgiving, always keen to give others a second chance. His desire to look after his staff and tenants often meant that he was more lenient than most employers and landlords. Now she wondered if his judgement could be relied on, but she didn’t voice her doubts out loud.
“You may be able to vouch for your staff, Lord Fitzroy, but surely you can’t do the same for everyone in the village?” said Inspector Walsh.
“No,” James admitted. “They are all my tenants, of course, but my estate manager deals with the day-to-day details of their tenancy and has more personal contact with them than I do. I am familiar with many of the longtime residents, though, such as Jeremy Bottom—I would be willing to stake my reputation on his innocence.”
Inspector Walsh waved a hand. “Aye, aye, I’m not suspecting the old residents like Jeremy. But what about some of the newcomers?”
James hesitated, obviously not liking to point the finger. “As you know, Inspector, several of the villagers have been very unhappy with Minerva’s presence in Tillyhenge. Many came to see me to voice their concerns, after she arrived last week. There was one man in particular, called Lawrence Ford, who is a lawyer—”
