Mystery at Oakfield Hall

by Irena Nieslony

  * * *

  While Sarah Robertson was helping Rachel get Oakfield ready to become a hotel, her father was playing away from home.

  At twelve midday, John Robertson rang the doorbell of Carlotta Fox’s London apartment. He had to wait a couple of minutes. Carlotta was not a woman who rushed.

  “Darling, you’re early. It’s only twelve,” she said when she finally opened the door.

  “I own my own company so I can leave when I want,” John said, taking Carlotta in his arms and kissing her.

  John owned a company that made jigsaw puzzles. In fact he loved jigsaw puzzles and always had one on the go. It was therefore strange that a glamorous woman like Carlotta Fox would even consider having an affair with him.

  Carlotta enjoyed the high life: parties, casinos, expensive clothes, trips abroad and the best hotels. When she lived with George Robertson she got all that, so why did she give it up? Why? Because the man couldn’t be faithful. And why should a woman with her looks put up with an unfaithful man. Even now at sixty she had a perfect figure and an exquisite face. Admittedly she’d had a little work done, bur the high cheekbones were her own and the sensuous lips hadn’t been touched by a surgeon. Men much younger wanted her, so why had she picked John?

  John might not have George’s personality, but he looked so similar. They could almost have been even twins. John was good in bed as well, like George. When they made love, John never spoke. It was almost like being with George and George had been the love of her life.

  “You didn’t ring at the weekend,” Carlotta said.

  She didn’t care, but she pretended she did for John’s sake. He was in love with her and he thought she loved him, so she made all the right noises.

  John told her about Rachel being poisoned and why he hadn’t been able to phone, what with the party and the police interviewing him. He had hardly been able to get away from Barbara the whole weekend.

  “Someone really wants Rachel dead, don’t they?” Carlotta said. “Is it you, John darling?”

  “Of course not. But if I did inherit my third and bought the others out, would you come and live there with me?”

  “You know I would. George tried to get me back by promising to leave me the house. He knew how much I loved it, but I didn’t trust him. As for you, darling, Barbara would sue you for every penny.”

  John sighed. Yes, Barbara would not be lenient with him.

  “Let’s not talk about this anymore, Carlotta. I need you. It’s been such an awful weekend.”

  Carlotta took John’s hand and led him to the bedroom.

  * * *

  That same morning after visiting Rachel, Inspector Taylor went to the police station to catch up on some paperwork. However, he was unable to concentrate as Rachel Fisher kept creeping into his thoughts. He was frustrated. There seemed to be no clues as to who either pushed her down the stairs or who poisoned her and he wanted to get hold of that person before he or she tried again.

  To top it all, he felt even more confused than he had been the previous evening. Why was he having feelings for Rachel Fisher? He didn’t want to forget his wife, but Amelia wasn’t on his mind as much as she used to be. Her memory was fading and when he woke up that morning, the first person he had thought of had been Rachel. It was stupid. She didn’t even like him and was continually sharp with him. She had given him no encouragement, so why did she fill his thoughts?

  “Good morning, sir,” Helen said cheerfully as she walked into the office.

  “Oh, good morning Helen,” he replied absentmindedly.

  Then he looked at Helen.

  She looks a little over made-up for work today. Perhaps she likes one of the young officers. Oh dear, relationships in the workplace are never a good idea. Women do get so emotional. I won’t say anything though. I don’t want to get involved unless I really have to.

  “Thank you again for your hard work yesterday, Helen. It was very much appreciated.”

  Helen beamed.

  He does like me. I’m sure of it. I wonder if I should ask him out for a drink. No, probably better if I wait until he asks me. He is my boss after all.

  Little did Helen know that the only woman on Inspector Taylor’s mind at that moment was Rachel Fisher and unfortunately for him, the only man on Rachel’s mind was James Parker.

  Chapter 9

  The next few days passed by uneventfully. Inspector Taylor came up with absolutely no evidence to arrest anyone for the attempted murder of Rachel Fisher or even to bring someone in for questioning.

  Rachel, with the help of Sarah, carried on working in the house. Rachel grew stronger each day and was soon feeling fit and strong again. James was kept very busy at work in London with a fashion show, but he phoned Rachel at least twice a day. They made plans to spend as much of the weekend together as possible.

  Rachel wasn’t normally one to brood over things, but occasionally she would wake up in the middle of the night in a terrible state. She would have a panic attack over what could have happened to her after she had been poisoned or pushed down the stairs. Yes, she could have been killed, but her fall might have led to paralysis or she could have been left comatose by the poisoning. She kept telling herself that it didn’t happen and she was fine, but the thoughts refused to go away. Once it was daylight, Rachel was alright, but she started to dread the nights in case it happened again. She refused to tell Sarah, believing she would think she was being silly, and she certainly wasn’t going to tell James. She liked him to see her as a strong woman which she normally was.

  By the time Sarah went home early on Friday evening, Rachel was exhausted, due both to hard work and lack of sleep. However, she hadn’t had a panic attack the previous night and felt a little stronger mentally. She was determined to get over her negative thoughts and enjoy her weekend with James. To top it all, she actually felt quite proud of what she and Sarah had achieved that week. The hotel was taking shape and she was getting more than a little excited about it.

  Rachel went and got herself a glass of cold Chablis from the fridge and took it into the sitting room. She took off her shoes and got comfortable on the settee. As she took a long sip of her wine, Macbeth and Hamlet came and nuzzled up to her. She stroked them as she thought of more ideas for her hotel.

  It was a very warm evening; in fact the summer had been particularly hot for England and Rachel drank her wine a little too quickly in order to quench her thirst. It wasn’t long before she drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep; the two cats sprawled over her, both purring happily.

  * * *

  Inspector Taylor was driving home from work. It had been a difficult week. As usual, there had been many fights in Slough as well as some robberies, so he had little time to concentrate on Rachel Fisher’s case. He had tried to do some research on the family, but they had come up clean, that is apart from George who had a couple of drunk under the influence convictions on record and he had been to court for having rowdy parties. Inspector Taylor thought that they must have been extremely noisy as his neighbors were a hell of a way from his house. Anyway, it didn’t matter what George had done. He was dead. It was his living relatives that he was interested in and they were squeaky clean. However, he didn’t believe that any of them had got rich by not bending the rules a bit here and there, but unfortunately that didn’t make them murderers.

  As he drove along, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he reached Rachel’s house. He drove by it every day and was always tempted to stop by and see how she was, but he never had the courage. Still, it had been five days, so perhaps he should go and check in on her. Perhaps ask her if anybody had tried anything else. No, that would be silly. She’d have phoned the police if something had happened, wouldn’t she?

  Inspector Taylor got closer to Rachel’s gate and slowed down. Should he or shouldn’t he? Why not? It might give her confidence to know that the police were still looking into her case.

  He drove slowly down the long driveway, but as he got closer, he w
as sure he could see smoke and flames coming from one of the downstairs rooms on the far right. He’d not been to that part of the house as Rachel had started renovations to the left side, probably because the entrance was there.

  He sped up and came to a screeching halt. Yes, there was a fire in that room, but he wasn’t sure if it had spread any further. He got straight onto the fire service and then drove as quickly as he could to the front door where he knocked and rang the doorbell at the same time.

  Within a couple of minutes Rachel came to the door, looking half asleep.

  “What’s up/” she asked, sounding quite irate.

  “There’s a fire in a room at the other side of the house. I’ve called the fire brigade, but we should see if we can start putting it out now.”

  Rachel woke up immediately

  “There’s a hose in the back garden and there are outside taps. Come on.”

  They both rushed into the garden. Inspector Taylor grabbed the hose and they ran to the other end of the house. The room where the fire was long and narrow, but it only had one door into the rest of the house. Rachel knew it was shut and hoped that meant the fire wouldn’t spread too quickly. Luckily there was a tap nearby to which the Inspector attached the hose. He smashed one of the windows and started to hose down the fire, Rachel standing by willing him to put it out.

  Suddenly they heard the fire engine and within no time at all, the fireman were there and had put out the fire. Rachel and Inspector Taylor stood watching, not saying a word to each other. Once it was all over, he went and talked to the firemen.

  Rachel was rooted to the spot, waiting for Taylor to come back. He seemed to be taking ages, but at least the fire was out. A couple of the firemen smiled sympathetically at her before they left.

  “Come along, Ms. Fisher, a cup of hot sweet tea is in order I think,” Taylor said.

  “A large brandy would be better,” Rachel replied.

  “Whatever you want, Ms. Fisher, whatever you want,” he said, almost smiling.

  Once they were settled in the sitting room, Rachel with her brandy and he with a light beer, they started to talk.

  “I won’t beat around the bush, Ms. Fisher, but according to the firemen, that fire was started on purpose.”

  Rachel gasped.

  “Actually, I don’t know why I’m surprised. I haven’t been in that room since I first got this house so how else would a fire have started in there? It’s my family trying to get rid of me again.”

  “If that’s the case I’m surprised they started it at the other side of the house,” Inspector Taylor replied. “They must know you’re renovating and living on this side so probably wouldn’t be anywhere near that room and would have a better chance of getting out. Perhaps they only wanted to frighten you.”

  “I doubt it, Inspector. I think they probably wanted to burn as much of the house down as possible so I couldn’t do much with it. They know the hotel will only work if it is the original building. A replica just won’t do. They perhaps thought that me burning to death would be an added bonus. They would then just be able to pick up the insurance money, that is if it was either Arthur or John.”

  “Or Sam,” Taylor added.’

  “No way was it my Uncle Sam,” Rachel said with a hint of anger in her voice.

  “I’m sorry. I have to look at this from a purely impersonal aspect,” Taylor spoke. However, he was mortified. He knew he’d said the wrong thing and the last thing he wanted to do was upset Rachel.

  “I know you do. Oh Peter, this is getting more and more complicated. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  His heart skipped a beat. This was the first time Rachel had called him by his first name. How could something so trivial delight him so much? But it did, very much.

  “Oh, by the way, what were you doing here?” Rachel asked.

  “I just came to see if you were alright. I’m afraid we haven’t made any progress in your case. Your family is as clean as a whistle.”

  ‘It’s a good job you did come otherwise I could have lost a lot more, detective.”

  Oh, why couldn’t she have called me Peter again? It was so nice.

  "How are you feeling now, Ms. Fisher? I can imagine that this must have been very frightening on top of everything else.”

  "I feel a little better now. How do you think they got in? I checked all the windows and doors when I first got the house and James has done so since.”

  "I presume they broke a window like I did. There are a lot of windows in that room. I’m going to have to call a colleague and we’ll look over the place. See if we can find any clues, fingerprints outside for example, but I’m sure that whoever it was wore gloves the whole time.”

  “Yes, I’m certain that the person who’s doing this is very clever, though perhaps not clever enough as I’m not dead yet.”

  Rachel tried to smile, but was finding it very difficult.

  “You shouldn’t really be alone tonight,” Taylor said.

  He was worried about her, but he could hardly offer to stay.”

  “I could ask James to come over tonight. He was coming here tomorrow anyway, but I don’t know if I want him to see me like this.”

  The detective’s face dropped when he heard James’s name mentioned for a second time. He didn’t like the man. He thought he was a bit shady and Rachel was much too good for him, but he couldn’t express his opinion. It was none of his business and Rachel was obviously head-over-heels in love with him. However, why didn’t she want him to see her like this?

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the problem with Mr. Parker seeing you in this state?”

  “Oh, it sounds silly,” Rachel said, smiling at last, “but I don’t want him to see me looking vulnerable. Don’t get me wrong; he’s a wonderful man, but I don’t like men to take charge and think I’m weak, if you get my meaning. James does like to mollycoddle me when things go wrong.”

  Taylor nodded, secretly pleased. He had no illusions about having a relationship with Rachel Fisher. She was from a different world to him, but she deserved a man who was worthy of her and he didn’t think James was.

  ‘Well," he said. "Is there anyone else you can call?”

  “As I said, I don’t like to be mollycoddled,” Rachel laughed and even the detective smiled. “I will be alright,” Rachel then continued, “but if it makes you feel better, I’ll speak to my friend, Mary. She is a midwife and I’m not sure what shift she’s on. I have been drinking though so I can’t drive to her house and she has children so she can’t come over here.

  “You really do have an excuse for everything, don’t you, Ms. Fisher?” Taylor said, smiling yet again. “At least have a chat with Mary. I’m sure it’ll do you a lot of good to talk about this with a friend.”

  “Alright, I will,” Rachel replied, thinking what a lovely smile Inspector Taylor had. It was a pity he didn’t smile more often.

  “I’m going to get my colleague over and have a look at the burnt out room. I’ll see you before I go.”

  Rachel nodded, thinking that perhaps she’d misjudged the detective. He really wasn't that bad after all.

  After Inspector Taylor had gone to examine the burnt down room, Rachel sat on the settee for a few minutes thinking. She shivered as she thought how it could all have ended so differently. If the Inspector hadn’t of decided to pop in to see her, the whole house could have burnt down with her in it. She had been so tired that she might not have woken up. Even if she had, she could still have lost the house. Yes, the house was insured, but that didn’t matter. What she loved was the house itself. She didn’t want to build another house there.

  She wondered which member of her family was doing this. Arthur was a bit doddery now that he was in his seventies, but he could still have managed to pull off all three attempts on her life. John was fitter, but Barbara did seem the keenest of the pair of them to get her hands on Oakfield. Sarah was adamant that her parents weren’t killers, but what did she know? Rachel
was certain that her Uncle Sam had nothing to do with any of this, but she knew that unfortunately the police would question him.

  Rachel suddenly shivered once more. She wondered if she’d ever feel safe again. What would this person try to do to her next? It seemed as if he or she wasn’t going to give up until she was dead.

  A few moments later, Rachel picked up the phone, unable to bear all these thoughts going through her mind. The last thing she needed was to be alone.

  “Hello, Mary, it’s Rachel,” she said, surprised to find her hand shaking as she held the receiver.

  “Hi, how are you doing?”

  “Not so good. Somebody tried to burn my house down.”

  “What?” Mary exclaimed. “Are you alright? Is the house still standing?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, physically anyway. I’m still in a bit of shock.”

  “I’m not surprised. Was there a lot of damage?”

  “Luckily only one room at the other end of the house, but it could have been much worse if Inspector Taylor hadn’t turned up.”

  “What? I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

  Rachel couldn’t help but think that Mary was still interested in the Inspector and perhaps she should encourage her. He had seemed more human this evening. However, for the time being, she went on to tell Mary what had happened.

  “Well, that detective isn’t completely useless then, nearly, but not quite.”

  “Oh, Mary, when you go off somebody, you really do go off them, don’t you, or is it bravado? You were very keen to hear all about him a minute ago.”

  “No I wasn’t. It was just your imagination,” Mary replied all too quickly.” Anyway, enough talk about him. Is James coming over to be with you?”

  “I haven’t told him yet. He’s coming over tomorrow so I’ll tell him then.”

  “Rachel, I’m surprised at you. You’re supposed to be head-over-heels in love with the man, but you don’t want to tell him you nearly got burnt to death.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. The fire was right over the other side of the house. Anyway, James would fuss too much.”