by Janet Pywell
‘One has lipstick on,’ Hugo says raising the glass to the light.
‘Paula and Freya?’ I reply.
‘Possibly.’
‘No wonder Paula didn’t join us in the kitchen for dinner. Come on, Inspector Clueless, let’s go up to the small hall.’
I take my time to enjoy the quiet solitude of the small hall with the crossed swords on the wall, large tapestries and stained-glass windows. The sun begins to stream through the stained-glass leaving colourful patterns on the stone floor, and I’m absorbed in their hues and shapes.
‘Do you like this room?’ Hugo asks, standing behind me, looking down at the patterned floor.
I move around the room, stepping over the shapes of the colours dancing in the sunlight on the floor. Hugo moves with me, two metres apart, as if we’re engaged in some ritual like a bullfighter or an Argentinian dance. ‘I made a massive mistake; I trusted my boyfriend. He wanted me to invest in his business and, well basically, he took everything I had. He lied. He cheated me.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Hugo’s voice is soft. ‘What about the police?’
‘I couldn’t do that. I feel sorry for his mother. She’s been so kind to me – it would kill her if anything happened to James.’
‘Do you still see him?’
‘He disappeared. I think he’s changed his phone number.’
‘That’s terrible.’
‘Worse still, Hugo. It damaged my confidence. I felt a failure for trusting him. I felt that my judgement was out of sync, then it turned out that I couldn’t cook or do anything properly for months. I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t even want to go out of the house.’
‘So, what did you do?’
‘I went to the rescue centre.’
‘Rescue?’ He frowns.
I grin. ‘I adopted a dog. It was all I could think of, and if I wouldn’t go outside for me, then I would have to go out for Molly. I needed responsibility. So, I began taking her for long walks twice a day and, little by little, I’d speak to strangers – other dog walkers – and then …’ I clap my hands together. ‘I began to make doggie treats; liver cakes and silly things like that … and then one morning, a few months ago, I finally wanted to cook again.’
I walk over to the window and gaze out at the chestnut and fir trees along the river bank.
‘When Paula contacted me, I thought the job would be in London. I met Herr Schiltz in Canary Wharf, but not only was he the image of my father, he was also just as obnoxious. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to take this job, but I had to.’
‘You did the right thing.’
‘I had to do it for me. I just never expected these awful people—’ I pause thinking of the added complication of Inspector Joachin and the responsibility of what he’s asked me to do ‘—to be so utterly vile.’
‘Wilhelm has upset you?’
‘He was drunk, he grabbed my hand and put it on his … you know, and I wasn’t putting up with that. I might have hit him a bit hard. I took out my frustration on him.’
Hugo laughs. ‘He’ll be fine. It’s the embarrassment he’ll have to live with.’
I don’t tell him about my kickboxing skills; it will seem like I’m bragging.
‘Look!’ I point out of the window. ‘Look, there’s Freya. She’s lovely, but they’re all so complicated. She’s in love with Paula.’
Hugo joins me at the window, and we watch them running naked across the grass toward the house. They’re carrying their clothes, they have wet hair, and they’re laughing.
‘Ah, true love.’ He smiles. ‘There’s nothing like it.’
‘Rubbish! Let’s just finish this job and go home.’
He reaches out for my hand, but I pull away from him and shake my head.
‘I just want to get back to Molly.’
* * *
It’s mid-morning, the kitchen is busy, bustling, and Hugo is taking orders from the family as they gather at the table.
Julie has squeezed fresh grapefruit and oranges, Mrs Long is cooking bacon, and I have the kippers simmering while I prepare the kedgeree.
Paula comes in looking flustered and tired as if she hasn’t slept.
‘There’s coffee on the range, help yourself.’ I nod at the coffee pot, smiling. ‘There are warm croissants in the oven or, if you want a few minutes, we can make you something more substantial.’
‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. I came in here to escape,’ she whispers.
‘From who?’ I ask.
‘This weekend has been a nightmare,’ she says. ‘I can generally deal with Herr Schiltz, but the rest of his family have been positively hostile toward me.’
‘Well, not for much longer. Are they all downstairs yet?’
‘Not Herr and Frau Schiltz. They’re coming in last so that the family will applaud Louisa. As it’s the last morning, he’d like all the kitchen staff and everyone to be present too, to clap her in as she comes down the stairs.’
‘Oh, great,’ I mutter then I say more loudly, ‘Check with Mrs Long and she will tell all the staff.’
‘Be careful this morning, Ronda. Wilhelm is hungover and angry. He has the most awful bruised cheek. He’s so rude – he even pushed me out of the way, I almost fell down the stairs.’
‘Can you stay away from him?’ I suggest.
‘It’s difficult when you meet each other on the narrow staircase.’
‘That’s true.’ As bad as my weekend has been, it must be nothing compared to what Paula has gone through. ‘Where’s Jim? ‘I ask.’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him this morning.’
‘Can you take some time off for a holiday?’
‘I don’t know what will happen. Now that Herr Schiltz is resigning, I guess my job will go too.’
‘Can you work for Gunter, if he’s relocating to London?’
Paula shrugs. ‘He has his own staff, and personal secretary, maybe she will move to London, too.’
‘Don’t worry, Paula. It will all get sorted out. Give it time.’
She moves away to speak to Mrs Long, and meanwhile, I check the guests’ orders. I begin to prepare the Eggs Benedict.
Ten minutes later, Dan comes in and announces, ‘Mrs Long wants us all in the Grand Hall. Frau Schiltz is expected down shortly.’
Julie and I swap an annoyed look of resignation.
I rinse my hands quickly under the tap, dry my small santoku knife and file out of the kitchen and into the Grand Hall.
The family are standing behind their chairs. The only vacant chairs are at the head of each end of the table.
Above us in the gallery a door slams, then Herr and Frau Schiltz appear from the tower at the far end. They walk regally along the gallery corridor looking down at us below. Louisa acts surprised then raises her hand to wave. Below, Fran and Mike begin the applause enthusiastically.
Louisa wears a red and gold summer dress, and her tanned skin and bleached hair give her face a look of someone who loves the outdoors, being on the golf course. She’s holding her husband’s arm, smiling and looking radiant. The family and staff are all clapping. Jack includes a whoop whoop for his mother while Freya and Paula share a shy smile.
Roma claps enthusiastically, and only Wilhelm tucks at his shirt and pretends nothing extraordinary is happening.
Beside me, Mac claps slowly looking bored, and Julie grins excitedly. The only person missing is Jim.
Louisa and Herr Schiltz saunter down the grand staircase and she exclaims her delight with everyone as if she’s surprised they are all there. It’s a marvellous act, and I suppress a giggle, but then Julie looks at me, and we burst out laughing.
The happy couple reaches the lower step, the applause increases and Mac whistles. Herr Schiltz leads his wife to the top of the table.
I freeze.
Herr Schiltz pulls out the chair for his wife.
I placed the package at the wrong end. Because he sat on the right last night, I assumed he’d sit ther
e this morning, but he’s deliberately walked her past the family.
The package is now under her napkin.
I hold my breath.
I’ve made a mistake, I’ve let Inspector Joachin down. Suddenly I feel incapable again. I’m useless. My newfound confidence freezes as the applause dies.
‘Thank you, thank you. What a lovely greeting this morning.’ Louisa waves for them all to be seated then she turns her attention to us, the humble staff lined up like we’re in an old-fashioned movie. ‘Thank you all. You’ve made a magnificent job of everything. We’ve had a lovely weekend. I’m sure all the family, like me, are simply starving.’
That earns a ripple of laughter.
That’s our cue to leave, and I’m the first to move.
In the kitchen, I don’t look up as I prepare breakfast. I call to Hugo and Dan to carry it out, but then I take out Herr and Frau Schiltz’s breakfast personally.
I retie my bandana, pull down my tunic, and carry the kippers into the Grand Hall.
I place his breakfast on the table, and Dan and Hugo serve the family. Finally, I put Louisa’s breakfast in front of her.
‘Oh, Ronda. This looks simply delicious. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, Mrs Schiltz.’ I can’t help but glance at the linen napkin, and I freeze as Louisa reaches out and the package is revealed.
‘Oh, my goodness, what’s this?’ she says excitedly, looking down the table at her family.
I step away.
Herr Schiltz and Hugo look up, and Dan disappears.
The family are all focused on Louisa’s excited expression.
I back away, slowly, toward the kitchen door, and I feel Hugo at my side.
Louisa is waving the package. ‘How exciting! Is this for me? A late birthday present?’
Herr Schiltz looks bemused and shrugs.
‘It’s obviously not from your husband,’ Fran calls unnecessarily.
‘It must be a surprise,’ Freya says, sitting beside her mother, looking interested.
‘Okay, so which one of you has been busy buying me another gift? Oh, how lovely!’
‘It’s a shame about the paper,’ Jack calls. He’s on the other side of his mother but speaks loud enough for everyone to hear. ‘Whoever it was could have made more of an effort.’
‘Oh, don’t be silly, it’s only a bit of packaging.’ Louisa uses her knife to slide under the envelope flap. She peers inside and frowns. ‘What’s this?’
She tilts it, and the object slides easily into her hand.
It’s a Smith & Wesson revolver. The gun clatters onto her plate and into her kedgeree.
* * *
‘Oh, my God,’ I whisper.
‘Quickly. Get in the kitchen.’ Hugo pushes me in the back. I stumble, but quickly regain my balance.
Mrs Long is at the door. ‘What’s happened?’ she asks.
‘I don’t know,’ I stammer.
Hugo says, ‘There’s a problem.’
‘With the food?’ Mrs Long looks aghast.
‘No.’ He turns back to look through the kitchen door, and Mrs Long pushes past me to look with him. Through the gap over their shoulders, Herr Schiltz has moved quickly to his wife’s side at the head of the table.
Jack has also stood up and is leaning over his mother. Freya has moved away, obviously upset.
Herr Schiltz stares down at the gun lying on the kipper kedgeree and very carefully pulls it out with two fingers. He picks up the discarded napkin and wraps up the weapon, then he looks around the table, his eyes burning furiously.
‘Is this someone’s idea of a joke?’ He looks icily around the room. ‘Well?’
Jack says, ‘It’s a gun.’
‘I know it’s a gun!’ He turns angrily on his stepson. ‘Who put it here?’
‘Why would someone do that?’ asks Fran.
‘Who put this here?’ Herr Schiltz demands. ‘No one is leaving this room until I have some answers.’
‘What sort of gun is it?’ asks Mike, struggling to his feet but Fran pulls on his arm to make him sit back down.
‘Does it matter?’ Herr Schiltz replies.
‘If it’s a Smith & Wesson, it might do.’ Mike stands up.
Fran gasps.
Louisa covers her face with her hands while Jack stands protectively behind her with his arm across her shoulder.
The room is hushed.
Mike walks to the head of the table, and Herr Schiltz obligingly unfolds the napkin. They look at each other.
‘I think we should call the police,’ Freya says.
‘Oh, no. We’ll never get out of here,’ Wilhelm cries. ‘We’ll never get home.’
‘That’s not appropriate,’ his father admonishes him.
Mrs Long whispers, ‘Shall I call the police?’
‘Let’s wait and see, Mrs Long.’ Hugo places a reassuring hand on her arm.
‘Why is it important if it’s a Smith & Wesson?’ asks Roma. No one replies, so she says,’ If you want the truth, Friedrich, then you have to be honest and tell us. Unless it’s, oh no …’
Gunter says, ‘Stop it, Roma.’
Louisa buries her head in her son’s waist while Herr Schiltz carries the weapon to the opposite end of the table.
‘Their breakfast is getting cold,’ whispers Mrs Long.
Hugo and I ignore her.
‘Right,’ Herr Schiltz says decisively. ‘I don’t know what you’re playing at, whoever you are, so we’ll put this aside, we’ll eat our breakfast and carry on.’
‘Is that the gun?’ Gunter shouts. ‘The gun that killed our mother?’
Herr Schiltz looks down at the napkin. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Is it the same make and model?’ Gunter moves quickly to his father’s side. ‘It is. Tell me the truth.’
‘Yes.’ Herr Schiltz’s voice is hoarse. ‘Yes. I believe it is.’
* * *
Beside me, Mrs Long gasps at the same time as the commotion breaks out in the Grand Hall and I feel Hugo’s body tense.
‘Give it to me!’
‘I want to see it!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘Who put it there?’
‘How did it get there?’
‘Where’s Jim?’
‘Mum was killed five years ago!’
‘Who knows about this?’
‘Where has the gun been?’
‘Tell Paula to call the police.’
‘Iris was shot dead!’
‘They caught the killer!
‘Don’t be stupid. He was the gardener.’
‘He had an alibi.’
‘They paid off—’
Herr Schiltz bellows,’ Someone here, knows all about it! One of you put it here deliberately.’
It’s Paula who then steps forward and says quietly, ‘With great respect, Herr Schiltz. I think a brief explanation is needed, and then we need to call the police.’
‘Jim?’ Herr Schiltz shouts, ignoring her. ‘Jim!’
Gunter stands beside his father. ‘Give me the gun. I’m not letting it out of my sight. We can find the bastard who killed her once and for all.’ He holds out his hand, but Herr Schiltz won’t part with it.
‘Sit down, Gunter.’
‘Let me have it,’ says Mike.
‘Put it away,’ cries Fran.
‘Whoever put it here knows all about it. It was one of you,’ Jack shouts. ‘It was somebody here – one of the family.’
‘Not necessarily.’ Wilhelm turns to the kitchen. ‘It might have been put here by someone else.’
Mrs Long, Hugo and I back away from the door.
‘We need to call the police,’ Mrs Long whispers. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this.’
Chapter 14
‘Death and genitals are things that frighten people, and when people are frightened, they develop means of concealment and aggression. It is common sense.’
Noam Chomsky
I stare out of the kitchen window; on t
he wall Bobby the blackbird sings then stops suddenly to peck at his wing before resuming his song. In his world nothing has changed, but I fear mine has come tumbling down around me.
Inspector Joachin left me the package to place at Herr Schiltz’s plate, and now it’s been a disaster. He knew the gun was inside. He did it deliberately. Is this the gun that killed Iris Schiltz?
Is this what Inspector Joachin wanted?
‘Ronda? What’s happened?’ Julie asks, coming to stand beside me. ‘Are you alright?’
‘I don’t know.’
I can’t tell her that this is all my fault and that I was the one who left the package on the table.
What if they call the police?
‘Ronda? Are you alright?’ Julie insists.
‘They’ve got a gun,’ Dan says. He’s standing near the door, eavesdropping on the scene in the Grand Hall, but I can’t bear to look.
If this is the gun that killed Iris Schiltz, then who put it under my bed?
‘I’m not going in there again.’ Dan picks up a tea towel. ‘They’re all nuts. He shouldn’t have a weapon.’
‘Is it loaded?’ asks Julie, removing her apron. ‘Where’s Mac?’
‘He was here a minute ago,’ Dan says, looking around.
‘Go and find him,’ Julie orders.
Mrs Long is now sitting at the kitchen table looking flustered and hot as if she’s about to have a heart attack.
‘You’d better make her a cup of tea,’ I say to Dan, trying to rally myself, but what can I do, apart from wait and see how it all plays out.
Julie says again. ‘Dan, go and find Mac.’
‘What shall we do about breakfast?’ Mrs Long wails.
‘We’ll have to wait until things calm down,’ I reply.
The door opens. Hugo and Julie back away as Mike comes into the kitchen.
‘Everyone and I mean everyone, in the Grand Hall, now!’
* * *
Mike, Herr Schiltz’s business partner, takes control. He ushers us inside the big room. The staff stand together, near the wall where we displayed the birthday cake yesterday: Hugo, Julie, Dan, Mrs Long, the cleaner and her sister, and me.
Mac must have heard the commotion, and he comes in via the kitchen and heads straight to Herr Schiltz.
