Mystery at Oakfield Hall

by Irena Nieslony

  “That’s good.”

  An awkward silence followed. Rachel felt she should go, but wasn’t sure how to leave their conversation. Inspector Taylor wanted to say it was alright that she knew about his wife, but he felt she might find it a strange thing to say. In fact, Taylor realized he didn’t mind Rachel knowing everything about him.

  In the end, Rachel spoke about her visit to the cemetery.

  “I’ve just been to my parents and George’s graves to put some flowers on them,”

  “Oh, that’s thoughtful. I hate to see graves looking untidy. It makes me sad; it’s like nobody cares... I’m afraid I didn’t get very far with John and Carlotta this morning,” he continued, changing the subject. “Carlotta seems a rich woman so John doesn’t need extra money to keep his relationship going.”

  “Oh well, it was worth a shot… I’d better be going now. Goodbye Inspector.”

  “Goodbye, Ms. Fisher,”

  Rachel walked away quickly, relieved to get away from such an awkward conversation.

  Inspector Taylor watched Rachel leave. He was worried. He didn’t want the next time he saw her to be on the table in the morgue.

  * * *

  As Rachel drove back to Oakfield, she couldn’t stop thinking about the detective. What a terrible thing it was to lose your wife at such a young age, especially with two young children. No wonder he was so dour all the time. She felt guilty for misjudging him. She had thought of him as just plain miserable, but he had every right to be. Life had been very unfair to him.

  Rachel wondered if she should tell Mary. After all, her friend had been interested in him and might be again if she knew the truth, but would they be suited? Mary was very gregarious and Rachel thought she could be too overpowering for a man like Inspector Taylor. She imagined that even in the best of circumstances he would be reserved. And Mary didn’t need to take on two young children on top of her own, did she? She’d just been promoted and often did extra hours. The Inspector probably wouldn’t keep on a nanny if they got married. No, Rachel had convinced herself that Inspector Taylor was better off without Mary and that Mary was better off without him.

  As Rachel drove up the driveway to Oakfield, she felt as if she was coming home. Having received the letter saying she could convert the house into a hotel, she at last believed it was all really happening and the house was truly hers. However, when she opened the front door, she was confronted with a terrible sight.

  Chapter 13

  Rachel walked into the large hallway of Oakfield Hall and couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There was graffiti all over the walls, some of it telling her to get out of Oakfield and the rest calling her a bitch and even uglier names. She stood motionless for a few moments and then rushed into the sitting room, followed by some of the other rooms, but they were fine. However, unfortunately whoever had done this awful deed had carried on spray painting in the upstairs hallway.

  Rachel sat on one of the stairs and burst into tears. She had tried to remain positive throughout all the attempts on her life and she had been so excited when she had received the letter from the council, but now she felt awful. How much more could she take? One of her relatives desperately wanted to destroy her and now she didn’t know if she even wanted to keep Oakfield.

  Rachel picked up her phone and called Mary. After blurting out what had happened, Mary spoke.

  “Have you told the police yet?”

  “No, I hadn’t even thought of it. I’ve just been so upset. It seems never-ending.”

  “Well,” Mary replied. “You’ve got to tell them. This is getting out of hand. And you and the cats are coming to stay here tonight. I don’t have to be in work until nine in the morning.”

  “The cats!” Rachel exclaimed. “I’d forgotten about them. Listen, Mary. I’ll call the police and then I’ll be over. I only hope the cats are alright.”

  Rachel dashed upstairs and looked through every room, but Hamlet and Macbeth were nowhere to be found. The tears were beginning to flow down her cheeks. Hurting her and damaging the house were one thing, but not her cats... She went through each room downstairs, ending in the kitchen when at last she heard faint meowing. She couldn’t see the cats, but she followed the sound and eventually discovered that the meowing was coming from a kitchen cupboard. She opened it and out popped the two cats, looking a tad miserable. Rachel took both of them in her arms and sat on the floor. They started purring and entwining themselves around her. She then burst into floods of tears again, but she was angry as well. How dare whoever it was do this to her cats? Rachel’s resolve came back. She had been through too much to give up now. George had left her this house and she was going to keep it. Yes, she was staying at Mary’s tonight, but she would come back and she would have her hotel.

  * * *

  Rachel phoned the police next and was on tenterhooks until their arrival. She had a feeling that it wouldn’t be Inspector Taylor who would be coming. She thought he would have been on his way home from work when she had bumped into him at the cemetery. She wasn’t looking forward to going through the whole story with different police officers. She was feeling vulnerable and thought she might burst into tears in front of them. One thing Rachel didn’t like was appearing weak in front of other people.

  She also didn’t feel particularly safe indoors. What if whoever had done this was still inside the house? Oakfield was big and it would be easy to hide in one of the rooms. Rachel decided to go and sit outside, thinking she’d feel a little safer there.

  Within fifteen minutes, two police officers arrived and, as Rachel expected, neither was Inspector Taylor.

  “Good evening, ma’am,” one of the officers spoke, “We believe that you have had problems with someone defacing your property.”

  “Yes,” Rachel replied, getting up. “Come inside and see.”

  The officers followed Rachel indoors and examined the hallway.

  “Is this the only graffiti?”

  "There's some in the upstairs hallway as well.”

  Rachel led them up there and after a few moments, one of the officers spoke.

  “Have you any idea who might have done this?”

  “Yes, the person who’s trying to kill me. Unfortunately I don’t know who that is yet.”

  “Kill you!” one of the officers exclaimed.

  “Someone has tried to kill me three times. Inspector Taylor is the officer on the case.”

  “Right, I expect this is part of it so we’ll pass the information onto him.”

  The officers looked like they were about to go when Rachel spoke.

  “Do you think that whoever did this might still be in the house? It’s awfully big.”

  “We’ll take a look if you like. Ken, you go upstairs; I’ll look around down here.”

  Rachel waited anxiously in the hallway while the two policemen went around the house. However, she knew it was possible that there could be someone else in the house and they wouldn’t find him. If it was Arthur, John, Carlotta or, heaven forbid, Uncle Sam, they all knew about the secret passages and could hide.

  Eventually both policemen came back saying that they had found nobody and Rachel felt partially relieved Still, she was glad she was going to Mary’s for the night, just in case.

  * * *

  Rachel arrived at Mary’s home an hour and a half later. It seemed to take ages to pack up everything for the cats; their food, dishes, and also their litter trays as they would have to be kept inside. She didn’t want to leave them at Oakfield in case that lunatic came back or, heaven forbid, was still there. He or she could decide to do something worse than lock them in a cupboard.

  As soon as Mary saw Rachel, she took the cat carrier off her and hugged her profusely.

  “Is Oakfield really worth it, Rachel?” she asked as soon as they were sitting down. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I don’t intend that you do, but I can’t give up my house, I just can’t. I have faith in Inspector Taylor. He will discover who�
��s doing this – and very soon as well.”

  “Hmm. Well, you know what I think about him.”

  Mary had conveniently forgotten that her initial attraction to the detective had almost returned when she had seen him the other day. What was more prominent in her mind was how rude he had been to her at Sarah’s party.

  Rachel almost told her the truth about Inspector Taylor; that he wasn’t married, but Mary’s two younger children came rushing up to see Rachel, giving her big hugs.

  “Great to see you, Rachel,” Gillian said.

  “Are we having snacks then?” Simon asked, none too subtly.

  “So that’s why you’re glad I’m here, is it?” Rachel asked, smiling.

  “No, we do love you as well,” Gillian replied.

  When Rachel and Mary spent an evening in Mary’s house they would usually have a few glasses of wine and open crisps and nuts and her children knew they were always allowed to stay up a bit later and share in the snacks.

  “Come on Rachel,” Mary spoke. “Let’s get the cats settled and then we’ll open a bottle of wine and chat.”

  “And have snacks,” added Simon.

  Rachel and Mary looked at each other and smiled. Rachel was feeling better already.

  * * *

  Lying in bed that night, Rachel felt mellow. Both she and Mary had indulged in a few glasses of wine and had chatted about everything except who was trying to kill her, partly because the children were there and partly because Mary wanted to tale Rachel’s mind off the whole situation.

  Rachel did think briefly about the attempts on her life as she lay there, but at that moment, she felt she could cope. In her opinion, the person who was trying to kill her didn’t seem particularly competent so why should she worry too much. Perhaps he or she only wanted to frighten her. If the person had really wanted to kill her, he or she could have put a lot more arsenic in her drink or set fire to a room much nearer to where she was. And anyway, she had Inspector Taylor on the case and she was more than sure that he would discover who was doing this very soon.

  “Peter!” she suddenly said out loud, not realizing that she had called him by his first name.

  She had totally forgotten that she had changed her mind and was going to tell Mary that he was a widower. How could she be so mean as to stand in the way of her friend’s happiness? After all, she didn’t want the detective for herself. She had James and was happy with him despite their occasional disagreements. They actually added a bit of spice to their relationship. How could you make up if you didn’t break up?

  Going back to Mary, she now believed it was silly of her to say that Mary couldn’t cope with another two children. Mary loved children and Inspector Taylor would probably let them keep a nanny so she could work. Rachel decided she’d tell Mary in the morning.

  * * *

  Rachel overslept the following morning and by the time she got downstairs she was faced with a chaotic scene. Mary’s older son, Kevin, was also there and the three children were trying to prepare breakfast while getting ready for school. Gillian was also attempting to finish her homework.

  “You’d better not tell me again that you’ve done your homework when you haven’t,” Mary spoke crossly to her daughter.

  “Oh, I’m sorry about this,” she then spoke to Rachel. “A typical morning in the Knight household!”

  “I’ll wait until you’re done before I get my breakfast.”

  “Probably best,” Mary replied. “We’ve got to go in five minutes anyway.”

  Rachel decided there wasn’t an opportunity to tell Mary about Inspector Taylor this morning, so she decided she’d ring Mary that evening when she got home from work. It wasn’t that urgent; it could wait.

  Chapter 14

  John Robertson hadn’t slept well. He kept worrying that his wife, Barbara, would now find out about him and Carlotta. He had no doubt that she would divorce him and take most of his money. He couldn’t bear to be poor and end up living in a grotty rented bedsit. He knew Barbara would be as cruel as she could possibly be.

  Who on earth had seen him with Carlotta? And why tell the police? He would have thought that they would have blackmailed him instead, not that he wanted to be blackmailed. Barbara would want to know where the money was going. She kept a strict account of their finances.

  John wasn’t a bright spark and could only think of ending his relationship with Carlotta. Then he thought the whole thing would go away. Naturally it wouldn’t as more than one person now knew about their affair.

  John woke up at five thirty and told Barbara that he needed to go to work early. She never questioned his work hours, not really caning what he did in the office. She was the brains behind the company, but spent most of her time out on the road promoting and selling their goods.

  John drove straight up to London to confront Carlotta. He was determined not to be a coward. He wasn’t going to end the relationship on the phone or by text or Email.

  “Do you think it’s going to make any difference?” Carlotta said. “People know about our affair now and the information can still be used even if we have ended it.”

  “But I can tell Barbara it’s all over.”

  “Do you think a woman like her will care that it’s finished? She will still feel betrayed and will throw you out. She will not forgive you; you must know that.”

  “She might.”

  “John, I know Barbara very well and I can read people better than you. She will never forgive you and she will make you pay, believe me.”

  “I’m still going to end this relationship. I’m sorry, I’m too nervous to carry on.”

  “Even though you love me still?”

  “Yes, even though I love you more than I have ever loved another woman.”

  Carlotta laughed.

  “Why are you laughing when I am opening my heart to you?”

  “If you love me so much, you wouldn’t leave me. You don’t have George’s backbone. He was a vital man, so alive and exciting.”

  “Then why did you have an affair with me.”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps because you look so much like George.”

  John turned to go. He was hurt. He wasn’t as tough as either of his brothers.

  “Wait,” Carlotta said. “Don’t you want to know who saw us together?”

  “You know? The police didn’t tell me, but they told you?”

  “No, they didn’t tell me, I saw the person with my own eyes.”

  John was flabbergasted.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Because you worry too much, John.”

  “Who was it then? Who ruined our relationship, the best relationship I’ve ever had?”

  “You ruined our relationship, John, but the person who saw us was Rachel. She was in the supermarket on Saturday. She doesn’t live too far from here.”

  “Rachel! That bitch who’s taken my inheritance. What more does she want? My blood?”

  John was becoming red with anger.

  “Do you want to sit down, John?”

  “No, I can’t believe she told the police. Why?”

  “I believe she thought you might want your inheritance to keep me in the style I’ve become accustomed to. I told the police I am a woman of means.”

  John didn’t seem to hear her words as he paced the room.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ve just about had enough.”

  With that he stormed out of Carlotta’s apartment. She stood there wondering what he would do next. He would probably go and confront Rachel, but she doubted he’d do anything to her. He was all talk and couldn’t hurt a fly, even if he wanted to.

  * * *

  Rachel stared at the walls of her hallway when she got home from Mary’s. She still couldn’t believe that someone could have written such horrible things. She’d find a painter as soon as Inspector Taylor gave her permission to have them painted over, as well as get a security system fitted. She wished that she was going to have company tha
t day, but Sarah had rung to say she couldn’t now make it until the next day. However, after a lovely evening at Mary’s, Rachel had woken up feeling more positive, so she resolved to keep in that frame of mind as much as possible.

  After she had finished making phone calls to security firms, the doorbell rang, followed by loud knocking. She went into the sitting room and looked out of the window. She saw John’s car and wondered why he was so keen to get her attention and then she started to worry. Should she answer it or not? Perhaps he’d found out she was the one who’d told the police about him and Carlotta. She moved into the hall, but still hesitated.

  A few moments later a voice spoke.

  “There you are. You weren’t going to let me in, were you?”

  Rachel turned round abruptly and there was John staring at her as bold as brass.

  “How did you get in, John?”

  “Through the French windows in the sitting room. They were open.”

  “Well, kindly leave,” Rachel said firmly going to the front door and opening it, thinking she could run out if he started any funny business.

  “Is that the way to treat a guest?”

  “You are not a guest, John. You let yourself in.”

  John ignored this and carried on speaking.

  “Why did you tell the police about me and Carlotta, Rachel? Why? It has nothing to do with them.”

  He moved closer to her and for the moment Rachel stood still.

  “It could have been relevant as to who was trying to kill me.”

  “So you think I was trying to kill you?”

  “It’s possible.”

  John lunged at her and before she had time to move, he had his hands around her neck and was trying to choke her.

  “Well, I wasn’t, but I am now. You’ve ruined my relationship with Carlotta. I’ve had to end it. I can’t have Barbara finding out.”

  Rachel tried to fight back, but John was too strong and she felt herself gasping for breath. However, her mind was still racing. Questions came and went thick and fast. Who had opened her French windows? She was sure she had locked them the previous night. Wouldn’t Barbara find out about his affair now the police knew? And wouldn’t the police suspect John for strangling her?