by Ann Purser
There was no chance of a second look, and he told himself he had imagined it. After all, he was only half-awake, and the train had gone by at speed. How could he possibly have been right? No, she was on his mind, and it played its usual tricks on him. After their divorce, he had seen her face a dozen times a day, walking down streets, sitting on park benches, in office lifts and at his door every time he opened it. He thought those days had gone for good, and now he was convinced that there had been no real Kath. He felt unaccountably sad.
When the train finally reached Aberdeen, he stood up and found his legs reluctant to work after sitting for so long. Maybe he should have walked up and down the train more often. Wasn’t there a risk of thrombosis? He must remember on the return journey.
He checked in at the small lodging house and asked where he could get a bus in the morning that would take him past Granfield Hall. His landlady was helpful and suggested he take a picnic lunch, as the weather was so fine.
It was still broad daylight, and he decided to have a walk around the streets, aiming for nowhere in particular, until he found somewhere to eat, and then return for an early night. He had a great deal to do in the morning.
Twenty-eight
KATHERINE HALFHIDE WAS bored. She was bored with people who had too much money and too little to say that interested her. Her host had been one of her beaux in their young, dizzy days of parties in London and stately homes in the country, but now he was a solid, respectable citizen with a position of responsibility for his estate and household. His ruddy face told of tramping around moors and imbibing large glasses of whisky, and his girth was steadily widening.
The other guests were stalking some unfortunate animal out in the wind and rain, and she sat alone by a log fire smouldering in the draughty drawing room, wondering what to do next. Her dear old dog, which she had come to collect, had been parked out for quite a while with her host but had died, and he had carelessly forgotten to tell her. It was difficult to believe she had left the south in warm sun, and yet here inside the baronial house it was cold and dank. Increasingly, she thought of Gus. At least he had had tales of adventure and a ready wit that had kept her amused.
Perhaps she had been hasty in leaving Barrington, but her reason for going there had come to nothing. She had recently confided to a close friend her suspicion that Ulph had stolen her jewellery. Predictably, she had received a frivolous reply, suggesting that he had probably buried it in the deep, dark woods, where nobody would find it and where he could collect it at his leisure. It had been too much like a nursery story to be taken seriously at the time.
But later she had brooded on the likelihood of this. It seemed as good a theory as any other, and she remembered Ulph’s connection with the Roussels at Barrington, where Gus had holed up. Information from her social network told her that Ulph had been seen playing in a dance band in and around the town of Oakbridge, and she had decided to start with Barrington woods, confident that she could persuade Gus to put her up for a night or two. As to the search, surely freshly turned earth would be easy enough to find? It was worth a try, but she had succeeded only in losing from her pocket her one remaining pair of earrings as she grubbed around in the undergrowth and brambles. She had quickly given up.
But then, the more she thought of it, the more she became convinced that her ex-lover was the culprit. In their friendlier days, he had been in and out of the flat and her bedroom several times a week. He had seen her dress for smart occasions and must have noted where she kept her jewellery box.
And, rashly, she had given him a key to the flat.
When they split up, she had asked him to return it but could not now remember if he had handed it back to her. She sank lower into her chair and closed her eyes. What a muddle! So what should she do now? Stay put, Kath, and wait for a while. She had a comfortable billet here in Scotland—well, fairly comfortable—and here she could plan her next attempt at retrieving her property. Perhaps a wider search in those tangled woods?
She felt a little guilty about deceiving Miriam Blake into thinking she was still resting in her comfortable bed, but no doubt a humble apology would be kindly received.
GUS HAD WOKEN early and decided the best thing he could do for the job in hand would be to hire a motorbike. He hadn’t ridden one since he had careened, Buchan-like, around the roads of Slovenia, mostly on the wrong side of the road. He had no idea where to go, but his landlady had suggested McDougall’s Car Hire, just around the corner. She had never heard of hiring motorbikes from there but knew the proprietor had one of his own and thought it worthwhile for Gus to enquire.
“Enquiring is what I’m good at!” he had replied jovially, and set off in a good mood. Unfortunately this was soon dashed by the receptionist at McDougall’s saying they had no motorbikes for hire, only cars.
But then the boss appeared. “A biker, are you, sir? If you are an experienced rider, then I could lend you my own bike and some gear. Have to charge you, of course. Just in case of damage.”
Gus agreed and paid up. The minute he mounted the bike, he felt a different man. Something about having a powerful beast beneath you, he said to himself, and proceeded noisily out of town and on the road towards Granfield Hall. He had precise directions from Mr. McDougall, and when the sun finally came out from behind heavy clouds, his spirits rose.
The Granfield estate was around thirty miles from Aberdeen, and the bike roared along at a satisfactory speed. It seemed no time at all before Gus slowed down outside the big wrought-iron gates of the Hall. A large brown dog with unfriendly eyes looked at him and barked fiercely. A woman appeared from the small lodge house by the gates and said something, which he could not hear. He switched off the bike’s engine and asked her politely what she had said.
“Can I help you?” she replied shortly. Black leather–clad bikers were obviously not welcome at the Hall, and Gus thought too late that maybe he should have turned up in tweeds and brogues. He took off his helmet and smiled charmingly at her.
“Do forgive me for disturbing you,” he said. “I am looking for Granfield Hall and wonder if you could direct me?”
“This is it,” said the woman. “What do you want? There’s a tradesmen’s entrance about half a mile farther on.”
Put firmly in his place, Gus thanked her and said he would go along and find it. But she still seemed deeply suspicious.
“What’s your business, anyway?” she asked.
“It is rather personal,” he said. “But I assure you I am not about to commit burglary at the ancestral home. Lovely morning now, isn’t it? And thank you for your help.”
He started the bike and rode off in an undignified wobble. Half a mile farther on, the unfriendly woman had said. He went slowly, looking for the tradesmen’s entrance, and in due course he saw an unmarked lane leading off to the right. He took it, hoping this would lead him to the Hall and to his elusive ex-wife, Katherine.
BACK IN BARRINGTON, the sun shone in a cloudless sky, and Ivy found herself wishing for at least a thunderstorm. “Too much sunshine can be bad for you, Roy,” she had said last evening, when he had insisted on sitting outside in the twilight.
“But it is beautifully cool now, beloved,” he had said. “The strength of the sun has gone, and there’s a lovely sunset over there, beyond the woods.”
There had indeed been a spectacular sunset, and Ivy had said that unfortunately a red sky at night meant shepherd’s delight, and it would be yet another boiling hot day tomorrow.
She was right, and now she and Roy lingered in the cool dining room, speculating about what Gus might be doing, whether he would find Katherine, and if so, what he was plotting to do with her.
“Best be off upstairs before we go to Tawny Wings,” Ivy said. “I always say coffee goes straight through, missing out all the usual routes. I’ll meet you in reception in half an hour. That should give us plenty of time. It’ll be a funny sort of meeting without Augustus, though.” She stood up, kissed Roy lightly on the top of h
is head, and walked slowly out of the dining room.
Deirdre was also thinking about Gus. She had had a disturbed night, with the most ridiculous dream. She woke early with a feeling of relief, only to fall asleep again and continue the same stupid dream. She had conjured up Ulph and in her sleep had faced him with a challenge. He was to agree to a duel with Gus, weapons being tennis racquets and decided by a fight to the death. Both had agreed, and she had stipulated the duel must be poolside in her garden. Before a grisly conclusion could be reached, she had woken up once more, terrified, and certain that Ulph had cheated, knocking Gus into the water with a hefty clout from his tennis racquet. Gus had sunk to the bottom and not resurfaced.
It was with the gloom of the dream still hanging around her that she drove into Thornwell for her early hair appointment but with the certain hope of flattery and personal attention.
“Ah, there you are, Mrs. Bloxham! And how are we this fine morning?”
Deirdre relaxed. She smiled and agreed to a new hair colour, which cost a small fortune. Things were certainly looking up. When she had got rid of Ivy and Roy, she planned to ring Theo’s mobile and see when he planned to return. He was bound to be jolly after a break from the cares of his estate, and he might very well have something more to tell her about the mysterious Ulph.
Twenty-nine
IN A SMALL café in a narrow backstreet of Aberdeen, with grey granite buildings looming all around them, Gus and Katherine sat drinking scalding coffee. He had found her easily, first asking the housekeeper if she was a guest and then being led straight into the baronial Hall. There Katherine had jumped up and hugged him and begged him to take her away from all this. She had hopped onto the back of the bike with glee and had ridden back into Aberdeen, arms around Gus’s waist, laughing and shouting in high spirits.
Now they were talking seriously about the theft of valuable jewellery from their London flat, and Katherine had said she was convinced the thief was Sebastian Ulph. She felt a bit of a fool about her brief and impulsive search in Barrington woods and had already decided to keep it to herself.
Gus was a little sorry for Katherine, but more than that, most of the jewellery had belonged to his mother, and it had held many warm memories for him. Katherine, typically, had seldom worn any, saying it was old-fashioned, and anyway she did not like wearing a dead woman’s jewellery.
“It was a terrific surprise when you appeared this morning,” she said now. “How did you know where I was?”
“Guesswork,” Gus said. “I remembered you were sweet on Hamish Granfield before we were married. I thought he was going to carry you off before I could screw up enough courage to pop the question myself. I know his wife left him a couple of years ago, and I knew you often came up to commiserate.”
Kath was silent for a minute and then said she had become something of a rolling stone and had thought a lot lately about settling down into a more steady way of life. Gus heard alarm bells ringing and said hastily that he had more or less done that himself and had decided he was happier living alone. “Some people should never marry, don’t you think?” he said hopefully.
“Depends who they marry,” Katherine said sadly. “But you’re right, Gus, I reckon I am not the marrying kind. Living with you was the nearest I got to being a faithful wifey but not near enough.”
“So,” replied Gus, relief palpable in his voice, “having got that out of the way, how did you know Ulph was in Oakbridge, and what do you propose to do about him? He’s a slippery fish, and having said he was going to France, he clearly remained locally, turning up only when I accidentally ran into him at a friend’s swimming pool.”
“The lovely Deirdre? Was she the friend?” asked Katherine, ignoring his questions.
“None of your business. What matters is what exactly Ulph is doing hanging around Oakbridge and Barrington. I know he had a job with Sid and His Swingers, but now he’s resigned from that, ostensibly to go abroad. He turned up at my friend’s house, asking for help getting a place in the town band. Before she had a chance to do anything about it, he appeared again, asking to use her pool, pleading a damaged leg. What is he up to, Kath? You know him better than I do. In fact, very well. Isn’t that so?”
He had debated whether to tell her about Ivy’s encounter with a man sounding very like Ulph, lurking in the woods and apparently burying somebody or something under the trees. But this, and the pearl earring, was Enquire Within business, and confidentiality was important. After all, that man could have been a poacher, burying game until he was able to fetch it safely. Or a desperate farmer, convinced badgers were spreading tuberculosis amongst his cattle, or even a badger baiter sussing out territory. And he was not keen for Kath to claim the earring until he was ready.
“Yoo-hoo! Where have you gone?” Katherine asked, snapping her fingers in front of him.
“Sorry. Thinking. So, anyway, why did you say you think he’s still around?” He reminded himself that he could not rely on Katherine’s telling him the truth about anything.
“He’ll have hidden it—the jewellery, I mean—and is aiming to sell it through some local contact. The fact is, Gus, he has got me over a barrel. He knows I have had one or two not entirely straight insurance claims and is using this to get me to hand over some cash in return for giving back the jewellery. Unfortunately, I am somewhat strapped for cash at the moment. On the good side, I do have some information about his dealings, which he would not like spread abroad.”
“But what brought him to Barrington? I know his father was a friend of Theo Roussel’s up at the Hall, but it’s a pretty tenuous connection.”
Katherine pounced. “There you are, then!” she said. “It’s obvious! That’s why he came to Oakbridge. He left me ridiculous Boy Scout messages in what amounted to a code for finding him, which I have cracked a lot sooner than he would have expected. Suffolk, he said. Blowing his own trumpet, he said. Hunt the ball was his last instruction! I mean, I ask you, when is he going to grow up? I reckon he’s hidden the jewellery—and there was a lot of mine as well as your mother’s—somewhere on the Roussel estate, and if I don’t agree to do what he wants, the squire will help him to get rid of it. On commission, most likely. Another impoverished aristocrat there, I imagine.”
Gus gazed at her in astonishment. “You aren’t serious, are you?” he said. “I am sure you couldn’t be further from the truth. Theo may be a bit of a fool, but he’s straight as a die. I am sure of that.” How am I so sure? he asked himself. Because Deirdre is sharp as a pin and would not associate with anyone she suspected of being a crook.
But now he began to think again of the man digging in the badger sett. Possibly hiding something. And the missing hand? He looked across at Katherine. Well, at least it wasn’t hers. She was using two perfectly good hands to eat a large toasted bun.
THEO ROUSSEL, BLISSFULLY unaware that he was suspected of receiving stolen goods, felt his mobile phone vibrate in his pocket. He was not far out of Aberdeen, having just boarded a train heading south.
“Hello? Who is that? You’ll have to speak up. I’m on the train.”
“It’s me. Deirdre.”
“Deirdre? Is that you?”
“I just said it was. Can’t you hear me?”
“I can now. What can I do for you, my dear? I’m on my way home. Fed up with wet feet and cold hands. Heading for home.”
“Oh, that’s great! Just wanted to know when you’d be back. Are you coming straight on to Barrington? I could go and put some flowers in the hall, ready for your return.”
“Yes, I’ll be back late this evening. Never mind about flowers. Why don’t you come along and warm up my bed?”
“No chance. I’ll be up to see you tomorrow, anyway. I want to ask you some questions. No, nothing alarming! And I’ll put a hot water bottle in your bed this evening. You won’t be back until the wee small hours. Bye, you old weakling!”
Theo grinned fondly and looked happily out of the window at the receding empty landscape, st
retching out as far as the eye could see.
“DO YOU THINK Gus will let us know if he finds Katherine?” Ivy said.
“I am sure he will tell us, if he has time, my love,” said Roy. “We have his mobile number, if you want to ring him. But I don’t advise it. He may be concentrating hard on picking up a scent. Aberdeen, did he say? Cold place. Very forbidding, with all that granite.”
“Doesn’t sound a likely place for our Katherine, then! But you never know. If you ask me, she’s stuffed in a cupboard somewhere, minus her left hand. Her sort usually end up dead. Playing one man off against another, I shouldn’t wonder. Well, we shall see.”
She and Roy were sitting in her room, drinking hot chocolate and eating half a digestive biscuit each. “Not a good idea to eat too much before bedtime,” Ivy had pronounced.
“I think I might risk another half,” Roy said, helping himself. “And by the way, have you had any more jolly thoughts about when we shall be leaping into one large bed together? Sometimes I think of nothing else.”
“Naughty old thing!” said Ivy. “Of course I’ve given it thought. Sometime next spring, do you think?”
“How about next week?” said Roy.
Thirty
“THE THING IS, Kath,” said Gus, as they perched on bar stools in the city’s best hotel, “I really do need a few days’ break. Finding you so soon has been a bonus, but I left Barrington walking wounded. Misunderstandings with my colleagues, false accusations, all of that.
“What colleagues?”
“You know perfectly well. My fellow investigators in Enquire Within.”
“Well, I don’t see that it’s any business of theirs where you go and what you do in what I thought was a week’s holiday. Holidays are for getting away from everyday life, aren’t they?”
