by Bill Kitson
Silent as the Grave
The Eden House Mysteries: #1
Bill Kitson
When former investigative reporter and TV correspondent Adam Bailey agrees to spend Christmas at Mulgrave Castle, he knows there is an ulterior motive behind the invitation. His old flame, Harriet, and her husband, Sir Anthony Rowe, want him to investigate the legend of an old family curse said to have claimed several victims amongst Sir Anthony’s ancestors. If there is any truth in the tales of inherited insanity, it may be due to strike again.
Once the house guests are assembled, heavy snow cuts the castle off from the outside world. When they sit down for breakfast on Christmas morning, none of them is aware that the curse has already claimed a new victim. With no let-up in the weather to enable help to arrive, Adam, aided by Harriet’s sister, Eve Samuels, attempts to discover if the death is linked to the mysterious disappearances that have occurred over the centuries.
But before long, further violence disrupts their enquiries. However, even those responsible for present-day crimes are powerless to resist the force of a far older evil, and a most unusual killer is at last unmasked …
For Val.
Proof-reader, copy-editor, unpaid agent, publicist, events manager, wife, lover, and best friend, with all my love and admiration.
Acknowledgments
My thanks to those who have helped me as I wrote Silent as the Grave.
In particular, to Sir Thomas Ingilby Bt, for giving me an insight as to how an ancient castle works. Mulgrave Castle may bear some resemblance to Ripley Castle, but the Rowe ancestry doesn’t have anything in common with the Ingilby family – at least I hope not!
I would also like to thank Tony (No Show) Rowe of Springwood Royals Cricket Club in New South Wales, Australia. Tony’s auction bid to be named as a character in Silent as the Grave helped provide much-needed funds for victims of the devastating Australian bushfires. His generosity reflects the true meaning of the ‘Spirit of Cricket.’ I hope I have done him justice.
My thanks to Hazel Cushion and the team at Accent Press for their hard work and professionalism. I am especially grateful to Greg Rees, whose meticulous editing went far beyond correcting my punctuation and grammar.
Finally, to my wife Val, for the countless hours she spent getting the manuscript into order.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter One
I picked up the report and studied it once more. I thought of the man who had written it a hundred years ago. How difficult must it have been for poor Inspector Cummins to conduct a proper investigation? In those days the landed gentry wielded great power and influence. What chance did a mere police officer stand when set against such a family, if they had something to hide? And they did have something to hide; I had felt that from the first time I read the document.
I concentrated again on the passages of the report I had been sent and felt certain that some, if not all, of the five people mentioned in the document had suffered a ghastly fate; that they had in fact been murdered. I felt a strong sense of sympathy with Cummins and wondered if he had felt as I did about the people who had mysteriously vanished. Now it was to be my turn. Now I had been asked to go to Mulgrave Castle. Now I had been asked to investigate the disappearances. If it had been difficult for Cummins; how much more of a task would it be for me, so much longer after the events?
I had just one advantage over Cummins. It was the Rowe family themselves who had asked me to go; they who had begged me to try to discover the truth.
The document was headed, ‘Extract from the report of Inspector Cummins to the Chief Constable of The North Riding of Yorkshire Constabulary, 1880.
‘My Lord,
In accordance with your instructions I have carried out detailed investigations into recent and historical disappearances at, and in the environs of, Mulgrave Castle. The results of the enquiries, such as they are, I set out below. Much of what I have to report is, regrettably, hearsay and local gossip, as can only be expected given the passage of time, and this is, as I am sure your Lordship must be well aware, a poor substitute for factual evidence. In order to maintain a sense of order I have separated the events into chronological sequence.
Lady Elizabeth Rowe, disappearance in 1679
Accounts of the event have, I regret to report, become garbled and distorted, and during the course of my investigations I heard not one but several versions of this story, of the disappearance of Lady Elizabeth, ranging from the mundane to the outlandishly gothic. Nonetheless, I will set them down in the second part of this paper. First however, I will outline the facts that are incontestable.
Lady Elizabeth vanished during the month of December. Correspondence charting her absence from social events in the area, and that of her supposed paramour, would lead one to the conclusion that the date of her disappearance was between the 27th December and the 31st day of the same month.
There is little to gainsay the probability that local rumour, both at the time and since, was incorrect when it insinuated that Lady Elizabeth and Sir Robert Mainwaring were involved in a romantic liaison. The diary of Lady Elizabeth’s maid, Fanny Hardcastle – which has by some mysterious means found its way back into the possession of the Rowe family – would tend to confirm this. I examined the document and quote from it verbatim. Unfortunately, the girl, although in possession of some rudimentary elements of education, could not be considered to possess high standards of literacy. Such being the case, and as the volume is written on some poor-quality paper and the wretched girl forbore to put a date to any of the entries, its accuracy is questionable at best. However, for good or ill, here is what she recorded.
“ On Friday, my Lady was wont to visit with Sir Robt. She took greyt care of her toilette before setting out and was gone an unconsionabel time. On her return she was towsled in the hair and had high colour to her cheeks. There was sum disturbing of her robes and she bade me address her apearance as soon as may be. I asked her what had made her so disarayed in her getting out and she told me but to take care of her and ask not things that were not my consern.
Sunday. Sir Tomas to London for a week with Friends. No sooner had he gone than my Lady was away to Sir Robt. She was gone the night and only back for brakefast just on Monday. I did not ask whear she was for the night as she has been moste forthrite in telling me to look to my own matters not hers. But I have the laundryng of her attire so I can see for myself and have no doubt what is about. Poor Sir Tomas I dread to think what will happen if finds owt.
Wednesday. Matters are getting wurse. Sir Robt. came for dinner and stay’d the night in my Ladys bedchamber. I herd so much noise and disturbing that I could scarce sleep, as my room is close to my Lady. What will become of all this I wonder.
Tuesday. Sir Tomas back from London. Much distress and raised voises. Later I went to my Lady but she was not in her bedchambre, neither her attire nor her toilette things. I to Sir Tomas and told him I thought my Lady gone. He with me to her bedchamber. When he hath seen what I said were truth he cast him on my Ladys bed sobbing and weeping much.
Two we
eks and no news of my Lady. Sir Tomas distrort and wanders the Castle between tymes and sets out to search for her, always returning much sadd’ned. He has taken to sleeping in my Ladys chambre and I hear him passing up and down for much of the night, oft times crying out for her. ”
That concludes the maid’s account, such as it is. In those days there was no authority to which a missing person could be reported, so independent verification of the facts is difficult. Local rumour at the time, no doubt much embroidered since, was that Lady Elizabeth and Sir Robert had eloped to the Continent of Europe. No trace of the missing couple was ever discovered, although it is said that Sir Thomas spent much time, effort, and indeed money searching for them. Certainly no remains were ever found that would tend to suggest that anything of a more sinister nature had transpired.
Two years after the disappearance, Sir Thomas travelled to Italy to look for his errant wife. It was a fruitless search, and it is said that he was so depressed by this failure that he took his own life, and was discovered in his wife’s bedchamber having hanged himself with the sheets from her bed. The estate passed to his son, Sir Matthew, then only eleven years of age, and that concludes the sparse facts about Lady Elizabeth’s disappearance.
Of the local rumour, there seems to be a consensus that the Continent was where the eloping couple ended up, although there is also a tale that the couple never left England, indeed never left Mulgrave. This story, totally without foundation in fact so far as I can judge, and in passing allows for much rustic embellishment of a lewd nature, suggests that Sir Thomas discovered the couple in a compromising situation. The story imputes Sir Thomas, maddened by jealousy, did away with his wife and her lover and buried their remains in the grounds of Mulgrave. Alternatively, he weighted the corpses and dropped them into the lake in front of the Castle. Accompanying either version is the tale of ghostly appearances, of Lady Elizabeth, her lover Sir Robert Mainwaring, and indeed of Sir Thomas himself, told with great relish by any of the local inhabitants one may question regarding the matter. So many and so frequent are these ghostly manifestations that it must be difficult at certain times to walk the Castle and grounds without being hemmed about by a considerable gathering of apparitions …
In conclusion, my Lord, after the passage of so much time, and with not a shred of evidence to the contrary, I must report that the most likely explanation for the disappearance of Lady Elizabeth Rowe was indeed that she eloped, possibly to Europe, with Sir Robert Mainwaring.
Sir Richard Rowe, disappearance in 1779
Sir Richard Rowe inherited the baronetcy when only two years old. Curiously, it was as a consequence of the birth of his younger brother, Hugo, later Sir Hugo. Their father had celebrated the happy event of the birth of his younger son rather too well, and had done so it widely throughout the county. He was returning home, intoxicated, according to reports to such an extent that he had to ride being unable to walk, when he suffered a fall over the cliff at Stark Ghyll. Both horse and rider perished.
The two boys were raised by their mother, Lady Hester, under the guardianship of her brother, the Hon. Aubrey Makepeace. Much has been recorded of his reportedly notorious life-style, and I would venture to suggest that a less suitable prospect for the position of guardian it would be difficult to find.
That much is fact, but as in the case of Lady Elizabeth, the remainder is based on hearsay and supposition. Of the two boys, Sir Richard inherited from his father an athletic turn of mind, and was adept at most sporting activities. He was accounted an exceptional shot at game for one so young, and was reportedly a fine runner, accomplished oarsman, excellent at all ball games, and was a strong and powerful swimmer. This last I consider to be of some significance. In contrast, Sir Hugo was of a vain and weak character, much addicted to gambling and the attractions offered in London and other cities of a like nature. It is said he won and lost a fortune several times over before his untimely death from what is reputed to have been a disease contracted by his indulgence in keeping company with ladies whose virtue was of the easy persuasion. Fortunately for the Rowe estate, much of the money he might have otherwise squandered at the gaming tables had been secured by his father in entails that were unable to be broken. Certainly Sir Hugo’s young widow had more than sufficient to console her whilst supervising the upbringing of her son Sir Mark, a lively and robust six-year-old who inherited none of his father’s vices.
In the disappearance of Sir Richard, I find myself in somewhat of a quandary in reconciling the known facts and rumours with the boy’s disposition and abilities. Sir Richard was seventeen years of age when he disappeared, was accounted to be of greater than average intelligence, and was also reportedly of a calm and level-headed nature. Despite this, he embarked on a course of action that appears rash and foolhardy, more in character with his younger brother. On the morning of the last day of the year, with snow laying on the ground, for anyone, no matter how strong and talented a swimmer to undertake a swim in a fresh-water lake in these latitudes is unthinkably foolish. Nonetheless, this was reportedly Sir Richard’s stated ambition that morning.
When the boy failed to appear for luncheon enquiries elicited from Sir Hugo that his brother had stated this intention to him over breakfast. A search was immediately organized, tracks were discovered in the snow leading to the lake, and at the water’s edge a pair of boots, a robe, and towels belonging to the young baronet were soon found. The lake was not frozen over, and a boat was launched. Later, the lake was dragged, but no trace of Sir Richard’s body was ever discovered. I would venture to suggest the searches would have been rudimentary by modern standards, notwithstanding that I am puzzled that these events occurred at all.
Gossip regarding the incident follows remarkably similar lines to that surrounding the disappearance of Lady Elizabeth one hundred years earlier. In the case of Sir Richard, the story revolves around the supposed jealousy felt by Sir Hugo towards his talented sibling and the younger boy’s desire for the title and the fortune attached to it. The story goes on to postulate the theory that Sir Hugo murdered his brother and concealed the body. Methods of murder and concealment vary according to the person relating the story. None of the tales have any basis in fact, although I do consider there to be many inconsistencies and unexplained irregularities in the story of Sir Richard’s disappearance.
Reading the evidence of the Coroner’s enquiry which was held in 1787 to establish presumption of death, I am led to the belief that many questions that should have been raised were not, possibly owing to the awe in which that official held the Rowe family, and out of respect for the grief of the dead boy’s mother. The verdict was, perhaps inevitably, one of death by misadventure, although there was little by way of evidence to suggest this above all other possibilities.
It is perhaps inevitable that the wildest of stories, some of them involving a degree of superstition, should have surfaced in the light of recent events. Nevertheless, I feel there is much in the tale of Sir Richard’s disappearance that would have excited my interest had I been called upon to investigate it at the time it happened. In short, my Lord, I am far from satisfied that the full tale of the death of Sir Richard Rowe has been told.
Lady Amelia Rowe, 1879
As in the case of Lady Elizabeth, the disappearance of Lady Amelia, wife of Sir Frederick Rowe, is complete; mystifyingly so. Despite the most exhaustive enquiries absolutely no trace of the missing lady has been found. Prior to her vanishing there was much gossip and speculation regarding her friendship with the Honourable Ralph Aston. I am sure your Lordship is aware that Mr Aston has acquired a reputation for a reckless and somewhat rakish style of living, and has been rumoured to have enjoyed romantic links with a string of beautiful young ladies. I have to report that similarly thorough enquiries as to Mr Aston’s whereabouts have yielded not one iota more in the way of success than the ones relating to Lady Amelia.
It is, my Lord, well known that Lady Amelia and Sir Frederick lead separate lives. From eye-witness a
ccounts and other circumstantial evidence I have little doubt that Lady Amelia and Mr Aston are lovers, and that at some point between Christmas and New Year, taking advantage of Sir Frederick’s prolonged absence on a deer-stalking holiday in Scotland, the pair eloped. The fact that we have discovered no trace of their whereabouts I count as less than significant, for, if the situation is as I believe it to be, they would make every effort to avoid discovery, and if a person is determined enough to vanish, then vanish they will.
Sir Frederick’s attitude to my enquiries would tend to bear out my supposition that nothing more sinister than a romantic entanglement is the order of the day here. Sir Frederick has been cooperative, in a disinterested sort of way, and his main grievance about Lady Amelia seems to be her lack of consideration in causing my investigation to be made at this time, thus interrupting the opening days of the shooting season.
In short, unless compelling evidence to the contrary comes to light, I believe that the disappearance of Lady Amelia and Mr Aston to be no more sinister than the flight of illicit lovers.
Conclusion.
I have, at your Lordship’s behest, spent much time investigating this disappearance, as well as those previously of Sir Richard and Lady Elizabeth. Whilst I consider it to be a singular coincidence that all three events took place between Christmas Day and New Year’s Day, and equally remarkable that the events are separated by exactly one hundred-years, I have found no evidence of a connecting factor, apart from the superstitious tales of family curses and similarnonsense peddled by the locals. Superstition is a part of country life; indeed it seems to me to be fostered in part to enrich an otherwise dull existence. However much these tales might enliven a quiet evening at local hostelries I fear that without any basis in fact they must remain purely speculation, entertaining though they might be.
