Bright Young Dead

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Bright Young Dead Page 31

by Jessica Fellowes

‘How would I know?’

  Louisa and Guy looked at each other. ‘We need to call the others back,’ said Louisa.

  ‘And I need to call DI Monroe,’ said Guy.

  Phoebe looked up at them. ‘What do you mean? What have I said?’

  ‘We know now that Mr Atlas was gone from this room for at least half an hour, even though the times that you and Phoebe said you had seen him were only a few minutes apart. Someone helped him by changing this clock twice and there’s only one person that could be.’

  ‘What are you saying? It’s not me.’ Phoebe laughed. ‘I mean it, seriously, it’s not me. I didn’t like Adrian but not enough to kill him.’

  Guy looked at her, his blue eyes steady behind his glasses. ‘I didn’t mean you.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  Phoebe, Louisa and Guy went out into the hall, going through the morning room first to collect Nancy. In the hall, Pamela was sitting on a hard wooden chair by the fire, on which she had thrown another log. Guy knocked on the door of the telephone cupboard and Oliver came out, looking sheepish. ‘Is it over now? Or is it nearly time to sing “Auld Lang Syne”?’ he asked.

  ‘Not quite,’ said Guy grimly. He went into the cupboard himself and closed the door behind him.

  Louisa had gone to the dining room to summon Ted and Clara, who were pointedly sitting at either end of the long table when she went in. They looked cold and nervous.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Ted asked, more than once, but Louisa couldn’t think what to reply, so said nothing.

  In the hall, they all gathered. Guy came out and said, ‘I’ve called the station. They’re going to try and find DI Monroe but they’ll send a uniform down in any case.’

  Nancy jumped at this. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  Still, neither Guy nor Louisa chose to enlighten her, or anybody.

  ‘Where is Mr Atlas?’ said Guy.

  Everybody was at a loss. ‘We don’t know, do we? You had us all holed up in our rooms,’ said Ted. Then his jaw suddenly dropped. ‘My God man, that’s exactly why, isn’t it?’

  A shiver of fear darted through each of them.

  Pamela said, ‘I’ll check Charlotte’s room.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Louisa.

  ‘No, don’t. If it’s me alone and Seb is with her, they won’t suspect anything. If I’m not back down in five minutes, come up.’

  * * *

  Pamela left and the others stood there, listening to each of her steps landing on the wooden stairs, which were covered only by a worn-out wool runner. Nobody spoke, or hardly even to breathe. But no sooner, it seemed, than she had reached the top that she was on her way back down. ‘She’s not in her room.’

  A noise came from outside, startling them. ‘What was that?’

  ‘An owl?’ said Guy.

  ‘No,’ said Pamela. She went to the front door and stepped out briefly. When she came back in, she looked deathly pale but her voice was calm. ‘I can hear two people shouting.’

  Guy rushed out and pushed past her, apologising as he did so. Frost had already settled on the grass in front of the house and the bare branches of the trees were bending slightly in the biting wind. It was dark with not much moonlight, and Guy’s eyes could see even less than usual. He listened hard and heard shouting. It was coming from the other side of the garden wall. Where the churchyard lay.

  Louisa came out and went to Guy’s side, holding onto his arm. She heard the voices, too. Without saying anything, the two of them ran together, Louisa holding his hand and leading the way.

  As they drew nearer, the shouts became louder – a man’s and a woman’s. Behind them, too, were the distressed sounds of Nancy and her guests but much fainter. The wet of the grass silenced their fast footsteps and when they reached the church door the shouting had not abated.

  Still silent but no longer holding hands, Guy and Louisa moved stealthily through the open door. The church was in almost complete darkness and their eyes had to adjust. The sound was coming from the other end and above. The bell tower.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

  Slowly, carefully, Louisa and Guy made their way down the aisle, holding on to the edges of the pews to feel their path. As they did so, a cloud moved out of the way of the moon and a thin shaft of light came through the stained glass windows as they reached the staircase that led to the bell tower. In seconds they were up and saw Charlotte standing in the glassless window, her back to the night air. She had been crying, that much was clear, her skin mottled, her eyes red. The soft curls of her dark hair had been blown about by the breeze and she trembled in her evening dress. Her shoeless feet balanced on the sill, her hands holding on to the stone edges of the narrow opening. Standing before her but not reaching out, was Sebastian. His hands were in his pockets, fury showed sharply on the planes of his face.

  He had seen Guy come up into the tower, followed by Louisa and now his anger radiated from him, as if it could knock them back.

  ‘You stupid bitch,’ he said to Charlotte, who shook with sobs.

  Louisa started to run forward but Guy pulled her back.

  Seb looked at them both. In the half-light, he looked spectral and forbidding. ‘Why don’t you both crawl back to whatever pitiable place you came from? Look at the damage you’ve caused.’

  ‘We didn’t cause this damage,’ said Guy. ‘You did.’

  ‘I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.’

  Charlotte had stopped her cries, and now stared at Guy, her eyes wide open, wild with fear.

  ‘The only part I’m not clear on, is why you wanted your friend dead,’ said Guy.

  Sebastian took a step closer to Guy and Louisa felt herself shrink back as he did so. ‘I don’t know what you’re implying but I think you had better tread very carefully.’

  Charlotte was quiet now but her cheeks were wet from tears that were still running down.

  Guy’s shoulders had broadened and his feet were placed apart, keeping him firm. If Sebastian hit him, he wouldn’t go down. ‘Why did you do it, Mr Atlas? Was it revenge or jealousy?’

  Seb laughed at this. ‘Why would anyone be jealous of that bore? He was a snivelling junkie. He cared as little for me as I for him.’

  Something had loosened in the atmosphere, breaking something between the four of them. Whether it was the cold, the night, the narrow walls of the bell tower or the realisation that the game was up, Louisa couldn’t say. Perhaps it was all those things.

  ‘I thought you were friends?’ said Guy.

  ‘We were useful to each other,’ replied Seb.

  Charlotte’s knees buckled and she looked as if she might lose her balance. She cried out and Louisa ran to her, grabbing her by the waist and saving her from her brother’s fate. They both fell to the floor, Charlotte gasping from the shock and the cold hardness of the flagstones beneath her. She pulled herself to her knees and wiped her face with the flats of her hands. ‘I thought you loved me,’ she sobbed.

  ‘As if you would know what that was,’ Seb spat. He took a silver case out of his pocket and put a cigarette between his lips, lighting it with a lighter that released a strong scent of petrol. In the brief flare of the flame his eyes were hard and black. ‘Now that she’s decided not to throw herself out of the window, I think I’d like to go back to the house.’

  He started to walk out but Guy grabbed him by the arm and didn’t let go. ‘Not until you’ve done some more explaining,’ he said.

  ‘Let go of my arm.’

  ‘You see,’ said Guy, ‘we understand that you stayed in the drawing room so that you could type another clue. One meant only for Adrian Curtis, which would send him here. The only clue that had a place for its answer, not an object.’

  Seb exhaled cigarette smoke to the side and regarded Guy coolly. Guy had let go of his arm now but stood close to him, blocking his way to the exit. Charlotte had stopped crying and was listening too, her bare arms covered in goosepimples. Louisa kneeled on the floor b
eside her, her limbs aching from the anticipation of what would happen next.

  ‘You knew, didn’t you, that Dulcie Long would be coming to the bell tower to meet Billy Masters. Did he tell you that?’

  Seb’s eyes flickered at this and he threw his cigarette on to the floor, grinding it out with his shoe.

  ‘You were seen buying something from Billy outside the Haymarket Theatre by Louisa, and I know you did some kind of a deal with him outside the 43 because I arrested him that night, after I saw you both.’

  This caught Sebastian by surprise and Guy saw it register on his face before he could stop himself. ‘So what if I buy from him?’ he said. ‘That doesn’t mean anything.’

  ‘I think you gave Billy the cufflinks that your friend, Mr Curtis, gave you as a present. As a thank you for letting you know that he would be here on the twentieth November, and in lieu of something extra to be given to you that night. Billy thought you were expecting a gift of cocaine, when what you really wanted was someone else to take the blame for the murder you were planning to commit.’

  Sebastian scoffed. ‘I’ve never heard such nonsense. I’m going down now.’

  Charlotte stood up now, ashen-faced. Louisa knew that if she touched her she’d be as cold as ice.

  Guy put his hands in his pockets and pulled out the lapis lazuli cufflinks he’d taken from Billy. This time he looked at Charlotte. ‘I believe these belonged to your brother.’

  Charlotte cried out and doubled over.

  ‘The timing went wrong though, didn’t it? Billy showed up early, and saw you running away. You had tried to disguise yourself as Lord De Clifford by wearing his cloak – helpfully left by the front door in the hall – but you didn’t know that he and Clara Fischer were together in the dining room. Everyone was supposed to be playing alone, weren’t they?’

  Louisa saw Sebastian’s eyes flicker now. He was getting less certain of himself, she was sure of it.

  ‘Dulcie Long took the blame but you didn’t care about that, did you, Miss Curtis? In fact, it was more convenient.’ Guy spoke with confidence now.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Charlotte’s voice was tight.

  ‘Dulcie’s son with your brother, your nephew Daniel. Is he a threat to your inheritance? The one you were going to get when your brother was dead.’

  ‘It’s her word against mine,’ said Charlotte. The steel had returned to her voice in spite of her disarrayed appearance. ‘Who do you think will be believed?’ Then as if she had let go of a rope she’d been clinging to, she breathed out and gave Sebastian a look of despair. ‘Besides, what inheritance? My brother spent it all. And when he found out…’ She started to cry again but more quietly this time. ‘He no longer wanted anything to do with me. He broke off the engagement.’

  ‘I don’t recall ever proposing,’ Sebastian sneered. ‘I’m hardly the type to go on one knee.’

  ‘You promised,’ sobbed Charlotte, but Sebastian turned away.

  Outside, a car could be heard pulling up on the gravel beside Asthall Manor. The police had arrived. Then a clatter as the rest of the friends came up the stairs. As they edged into the bell tower, there was no mistaking the atmosphere they met. Along the back wall, Nancy, Ted, Clara, Pamela, Phoebe and Oliver lined up. They held their breath, afraid to speak.

  ‘Shall I explain to everyone how you did it?’ said Guy.

  Sebastian shrugged.

  ‘You knew that Nancy would change the clocks back thirty minutes at half past one.’

  Louisa saw Nancy stiffen at this.

  ‘What’s more,’ continued Guy, ‘you knew that this was common knowledge. Any confusion over timings would be put down to this party trick. Your mistake was your attention to detail, if I may say so. You were the only guest who used the clock as his alibi.’

  Pamela stepped forward slightly. ‘Do you mean, when I said I saw Sebastian in the hall at quarter to two? That is, it said quarter past one on the clock but I knew it was out by half an hour.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Guy, ‘but it was in fact two o’clock. Miss Charlotte had put the clock back a further fifteen minutes. So that when Phoebe saw Sebastian leave the drawing room shortly after one, Pamela saw him apparently minutes later. In fact, it was half an hour.’

  ‘Spell it out,’ said Pamela.

  ‘Miss Charlotte bought Sebastian just enough time to come here to the bell tower and catch Adrian Curtis unawares. We know there was a brief struggle but he was drunk and by the time your former friend would have realised what you were trying to do, it was all over.’

  Sebastian’s face looked as though it were sculpted from rock but a cry broke from Charlotte. Guy turned to her. ‘You planned it together.’

  It wasn’t a question but Charlotte answered with a barely perceptible nod. ‘He said he’d marry me if there was money and we only needed to get Adrian…’ She stopped and looked at Sebastian but he would not turn towards her. ‘We only needed to get Adrian out of the way and we’d have what we wanted. He’d always loathed my brother though he hid it well, so long as he could get what he wanted from him. I knew that. Only I hadn’t realised that meant he hated me too.’ She broke down finally into sobs that made her thin body twist like a dying snake.

  They heard the heavy footsteps of the police coming up the stairs.

  ‘Sebastian Atlas,’ said Guy in front of eight witnesses, ‘I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Adrian Curtis and conspiracy to murder alongside Charlotte Curtis.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

  That night, little sleep was had by almost all of the household except for the youngest children, who slept peacefully throughout. Tom, thankfully, had been away, staying with a friend from school but Diana was almost speechless that she should – once again – have missed a proper event in her own home.

  Almost immediately after everyone had come down from the bell tower, the police had taken Sebastian and Charlotte away for questioning. After DI Monroe had – perhaps somewhat grudgingly – commended Guy for his good work, he invited him down to the station, too. There had been a lot of commotion and talk in the house, the shock rippling out through the friends, and Lord and Lady Redesdale when they returned.

  Lord Redesdale was both furious and apparently unsurprised that ‘those sewers’ should have committed the ultimate sin. ‘I expected no less of your so-called friends, Koko,’ he had shouted at his daughter. ‘I don’t want any of them here, ever again.’ Lady Redesdale took him up the stairs in a hurry, her pale face betraying her own upset at such a calamity happening in her house.

  Oliver Watney had scuttled off back home as fast as he could, leaving Pamela concerned that he had been shaken by events. Clara, Ted, Phoebe and Nancy had sat up in the library until Mrs Windsor found them still there when she rose at six o’clock in the morning and packed them off to bed.

  When Louisa had woken early next morning, she dressed quickly and quietly and went out into the nursery, ready to prepare breakfast for the children. Nanny Blor was up already. Nanny had been woken by the police arriving but, afraid, had sat in her sitting room in the dark, waiting for Louisa or Pamela to return and tell her what had happened. When they had both come up the stairs, fizzing with the details of the evening, it was Nanny who had made them all hot chocolate, insisting they sat and drank it until they were soothed enough to go to bed.

  ‘I do understand that this was a very unusual and awful thing to have happened,’ said Pam, her cornflower-blue eyes blazing even after such a long night, ‘but I feel rather like Farve. I don’t think Nancy’s friends are for me. I’d really rather stay home.’ She blushed. ‘Don’t tell Nancy, she’ll rag me.’

  Louisa understood. Pamela, on the brink of adulthood, had to decide how she wanted to live her life. She had never had the caustic wit or social ambition of her elder sister and enjoyment of the country life she had been brought up in had come easily to her. She was a good rider and unabashed about the pleasure she took in food and learning to cook. Nanny Blor had
patted Pam’s knee and told her that she was sure to go on adventures of her own one day. But for now, yes, perhaps a spell at home was what was called for.

  For Louisa, it was different. She felt she had come to the end of her country life. Quite apart from anything else, when Lady Redesdale learned the truth, as she inevitably would – that Louisa had shown Dulcie Long to an empty bedroom and then sent Adrian Curtis there – she would surely question the wisdom of her employment with the family.

  After breakfast, Louisa went down to the village. It was New Year’s Day and everyone was up and getting ready for the hunt. Even Pamela, in spite of her late night, had got up at dawn and gone to the stables. Louisa hurried round to the pub where Guy was staying and sent someone up to knock on his door and bring him down.

  ‘Louisa?’ Guy appeared a minute later. He looked a touch grey around the edges, and his clothes were wrinkled, as if he’d slept in them. ‘Sorry,’ he said, gesturing to his creases. ‘I didn’t get back from the station till late. Mr Monroe needed me to help with the statements. They both confessed, it was as good a result as we could have hoped for.’

  ‘And Dulcie?’

  ‘She’ll be out soon enough. The time she’s done already will be enough for the theft.’

  ‘You did well, Guy.’ Louisa was happy for Dulcie. She would be reunited with Daniel. Perhaps she could even work as a seamstress with Mrs Brewster, get herself straightened out and away from the Elephants. Not that they would be bothering her now they knew the police were all over it.

  ‘Thanks.’ Guy grinned. ‘I’d better be getting back to London, I suppose. Not sure how many trains will be running today.’

  ‘We can find that out for you. I wanted to talk to you first, though. Shall we walk?’

  Guy fetched his coat, hat and scarf and the two of them went out into the village. It was the kind of day that showed off in its fullest splendour everything that she had ever loved about Asthall. The early-morning frost hadn’t yet melted on the grass, there were happy shouts of the village children as they came out to see the hunt gather and the Cotswold stone glowed warmly, as it always did, even in a blue winter’s light.

 

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