A Study in Gold

by Annie Dalton

  Moments later, she heard a thunderous banging at her front door.

  SIXTEEN

  The repeated battering from upstairs had Bonnie out of her basket in a heartbeat. She let out a short sharp bark of alarm, ran to the bottom of the stairs then immediately ran back to Anna.

  ‘Ok, we’ll just go up and see what’s going on,’ Anna told her, wishing she didn’t have Alice’s chilly little voice on a loop: I see you’ve got a burglar alarm? Then I’d advise you to use it.

  She crept up the stairs and along her hallway, with a bristling Bonnie by her side. Then she noticed her White Shepherd’s tail beginning to wag in an embarrassed apology. A micro-second later, Anna heard a familiar voice calling from outside.

  ‘I think there’s something wrong with your doorbell. Let me in, I’m soaking!’

  Anna deactivated her burglar alarm and opened the door to admit a bedraggled shivering Tansy.

  ‘Tansy Lavelle,’ Anna said, not quite recovered from her shock, ‘we seriously have to buy you an umbrella.’

  Tansy wasn’t just soaked through; she looked utterly woebegone, standing dripping in Anna’s hallway like the True Princess in the Princess and the Pea. She was wearing a jacket, which was evidently not waterproof or even properly buttoned up. Instead Tansy was awkwardly clutching its two edges over an odd rectangular bulge.

  ‘I’ll get towels,’ Anna said. ‘And tea. You need hot ginger tea.’

  Tansy burst into tears.

  ‘Tansy, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Everything!’ Tansy sobbed.

  Anna shepherded her friend into her bedroom, where she found her warm towels and dry clothes. ‘Take off that jacket.’

  ‘I knew things were bad with Liam. I just didn’t know they were this bad.’ Tansy took a chunky plastic file out from under her jacket, handing it to Anna with an expression of doom.

  ‘And now I’ve made you an accessory or whatever,’ she wailed. ‘And I’m making your bedroom all wet!’ She started to peel off her sopping wet jacket.

  Concerned that Tansy might catch pneumonia, Anna decided to ignore the mysterious file for the time being. ‘Change in my bathroom. It’s got a heated towel rail.’

  Tansy disappeared into the bathroom, but continued to talk through the half-open door

  ‘Liam’s got us the files.’ She gave a hysterical giggle. ‘For the Lili Rossetti murder case and the bookshop fire?’

  ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘I’m not. I’m deadly serious and so is Liam. He said the dog-walking detectives might have more luck solving the crimes than the police.’ Tansy emerged, towelling her hair and dressed in Anna’s sweater and jeans. ‘I asked him if he’d get into trouble and he said he didn’t care, then he went out for a bloody run!’

  Anna felt torn. She was desperate to see the files, but she didn’t want Liam to be hauled up before his superiors.

  ‘He’s not having some kind of breakdown, is he?’

  Tansy shook her head, scattering sparkling droplets. ‘The opposite. Liam says he’s finally come to his senses, that life in the modern police force has been driving him nuts. He says it’s impossible to do his job properly, because of all the cuts and the politics. He likes his boss but even his hands are tied, Liam says.’

  ‘It’s that bad?’ Anna said.

  ‘It’s way beyond bad.’ Tansy wiped her eyes with the corner of her towel. ‘I’ve told Isadora and she’s coming over. I know it’s late, but I thought she should see them too.’

  ‘I wasn’t likely to get much sleep anyway,’ Anna said. ‘I just found out something disturbing about Alice Jinks. For a moment, I thought you were her.’

  ‘Wait till Isadora’s here,’ Tansy suggested. ‘Then you can tell us both at the same time.’

  A few minutes later, they heard the familiar alarming clanking as Isadora’s decrepit Volvo pulled up outside. She’d brought her little Tibetan spaniel cross. Hero waited until her owner had arranged a piece of scarlet fleece to her satisfaction, then she lay down on it, pointedly turned her back and appeared to fall asleep.

  ‘Hero’s a little rigid in her habits,’ Isadora explained apologetically.

  Assuming her role of canine sentinel, Bonnie watched intently as the women laid out the contents of Liam’s file on Anna’s sitting room floor.

  ‘I almost didn’t bring it,’ Tansy said miserably. ‘I’ve spent half my life trying to keep on the right side of the law. But Liam said letting whoever killed Lili and David Fischer go free is the real crime.’

  ‘You suspect Alice, don’t you, Anna?’ Isadora said. Anna had told her and Tansy about the shadowy reflection in the mirror.

  ‘I don’t know. All we know is that she was at Mortmead Hall that night,’ Anna said.

  ‘Creeping about like a Sloaney ninja,’ Tansy commented darkly. ‘Not suspicious in the least.’

  It was past midnight by the time they’d read all the contents of the stolen files and everyone was bleary-eyed. No wonder Liam was frustrated, Anna thought. The police seemed no nearer finding Lili and David’s killers. However, the files had yielded a couple of items of interest.

  Sipping hot tea, the women discussed their findings. Officers assigned to the Lili Rossetti case had found emails Dominic had supposedly sent to Lili, arranging to meet her at Mortmead Hall. Lili had agreed to bring the painting she’d liberated from Hempels for Dominic to verify, then they would take it to David Fischer.

  ‘But why pick Mortmead Hall as a place to meet Lili?’ Isadora said. ‘Dominic Scott-Neville inherited a beautiful manor house. What’s his connection with that hideous Victorian relic?’

  Anna thought she knew. ‘Dominic told me he and Ghislaine have just bought a big country house to convert into a women’s refuge.’

  Isadora’s eyes widened. ‘You think he bought Mortmead?’

  ‘It still seems a bit cloak-and-dagger,’ Tansy objected. ‘I mean, why did Lili go to all the trouble of dressing up for the ball? And why go to Mortmead Hall, just when Anjali’s people were putting on their big murder mystery weekend? Why not before or after when it was empty? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘It does if Lili suspected someone was on to her?’ Anna suggested. ‘Maybe she thought she’d be safer in a crowd.’

  Isadora checked Jake’s jotter pad, where she’d been making notes in her near-indecipherable hand.

  ‘It was actually Dominic who suggested he and Lili should meet at Mortmead.’

  ‘But he didn’t show up,’ Tansy said.

  Anna shook her head. ‘When Dominic phoned he seemed baffled that anyone would consider his exchange of emails with Lili as incriminating. Obviously, he could be lying. He could have sent someone else to Mortmead to kill Lili, but I really don’t think he did …’

  They’d just found one noteworthy item in the police report of the fire at David Fischer’s bookshop. Among the ashes, the police had found a partly-melted steel safe. Someone had left the door of the safe open, before the fire took hold.

  ‘Do you think someone knew about David’s photos and wanted to destroy his paper trail for the Vermeer?’ Isadora took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.

  ‘You guys should go home,’ Anna said. ‘You’re both shattered.’

  ‘Not happening,’ Tansy said, smothering a yawn. ‘We’re not leaving you alone tonight, are we, Isadora?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ Isadora said crisply. ‘The murderer is still out there and recent experience suggests that he or she is utterly ruthless.’

  ‘What happened to “there’s always an alternative narrative”? Oh, sorry I forgot,’ Anna added with a grin, ‘all is forgiven now!’ But she couldn’t help wondering what had finally convinced Isadora to change her mind. Was it Thomas Kirchmann, the plundered and partly-melted safe, or that shadowy figure in the mirror?

  Isadora smilingly shook her head. ‘Resign yourself to the world’s oldest sleepover club, darling!’

  At that moment, Anna felt gratitude beyond words. She finally under
stood that she could ask these women anything, reveal anything, and they would never think to judge her. She stood up.

  ‘Can I – can I show you something?’

  She didn’t offer an explanation and nobody asked for one. Tansy and Isadora followed her upstairs into her study and waited expectantly, while she silently unlocked the armoire.

  ‘Oh, if it’s decluttering you need,’ Tansy started.

  But by then Anna had thrown open the doors of her cupboard of horrors. For a few moments, the only sound was the three women breathing.

  Then Isadora said softly, ‘Oh, my darling girl.’

  ‘I don’t want this in my life anymore.’ Terror dimmed Anna’s vision, so that she could scarcely see her friends’ faces. She wondered if she was going to die from this ultimate exposure. ‘I’ve tried to get rid of it,’ she said, ‘but I can’t seem to – not on my own. Could you …?’

  ‘Oh, yes, yes, of course.’ Anna felt Isadora briefly squeeze her arm. ‘Shall we do it now?’

  ‘If – if it wouldn’t be too – horrible for you,’ Anna managed.

  Outside a police car went wailing up the Banbury Road, the siren gradually fading.

  ‘Now, what’s the best way to proceed?’ Isadora said in a musing tone. ‘I take it you’ll want to keep the family photos?’

  ‘Oh, fantastic, you’ve got a shredder!’ Tansy exclaimed. ‘Put me on shredding duty, Anna. I love shredding. Do you want to Ok everything before it goes in?’ She smiled at Anna, her normal mischievous smile, Anna saw, with no trace of pity or disgust.

  ‘I only want my family photos,’ Anna said, swallowing. ‘Everything else can go.’

  Tansy moved purposefully towards the cupboard. ‘Wait!’ Isadora said with such authority that Tansy froze in her tracks. ‘Don’t start shredding until I get back!’

  Isadora disappeared downstairs, coming back a few minutes later with a tray bearing three clinking glasses, each with its thin slice of lime, a bottle of Bombay Sapphire and a bottle of Fever-tree tonic. Isadora mixed their drinks with her usual expertise and handed them round.

  ‘To the dismantling!’ she announced in ringing tones, as she raised her glass. ‘And to the banishing of old ghosts. Ok, darlings, we can start now!’ She added in her normal voice.

  Only Isadora and Tansy could turn the emptying of a murder cupboard into a party. Isadora began to peel away the intricate criss-crossing strings and tape that held the layers upon layers of yellowing papers in place. At first, Anna stood by, watching as her friends worked; Isadora carefully taking down each item, and adding it to Tansy’s growing pile for shredding, except for the photographs, which she laid almost reverently on Anna’s desk. After a while, Anna moved to look at them. There they were: Julian and Julia, Dan, Will, and Lottie. Cheeky, alarmingly robust little Lottie.

  It was ridiculous to think that her dead family were somehow watching and that Anna was simultaneously liberating them too, by this long-delayed lifting of guilt and old grief. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that this ritual was for them as much as for her.

  When the cupboard was empty at last, they left the doors standing open and Tansy opened the window letting in the mild, rainy breeze.

  Anna helped to make up her friends’ beds in Tansy’s old room, then said goodnight, pretending not to notice Hero curled up on Isadora’s pillow. Then she took her laptop into her own room, followed by Bonnie. It occurred to her that she still hadn’t heard from Dominic. Hopefully the police had allowed him to go home hours ago and he’d just forgotten to call …

  Before she settled down to try to sleep, Anna composed a long email to Tim, updating him on recent developments including spotting Alice Jinks’s reflection in the mirror.

  ‘Will you be at home tomorrow?’ she typed, realized that tomorrow was already almost two hours old and corrected it to Friday. ‘If so, can I come and hang out with you and Edie?’ She closed her laptop. Minutes later, her phone vibrated.

  Why don’t I come to you? Anjali’s taking Edie to see her parents and I’ve got a plan that I think you’ll like.

  Next morning, after Isadora and Tansy had left, Anna went to brush her teeth. How many times, she thought, as she efficiently rinsed and spat, how many times had she passed her study door on her way to bed, on her way downstairs? How many times had she felt that crushing weight emanating from inside? It was only now that she realized, only now that it had gone. Her home felt so light!

  She heard someone knocking at the door and ran to answer it. Tim was waiting on the step. Instead of coming in, he showed her a set of hefty old-fashioned keys.

  ‘Look what Anjali forgot to give back.’ He gave them an enticing jingle.

  Anna stared at him. ‘Are those the keys to Mortmead Hall?’

  ‘Anjali found them in her car last night. I’m dropping them off at the agency, but first I thought we could have a little nose around,’ he said casually.’

  She laughed with surprise. ‘You don’t seriously think Lili might have left the painting there?’

  ‘Stranger things have happened. All those times we tried to make it through to Narnia ought to count for something!’

  She knew he was teasing yet she felt a giddy rush of excitement. ‘But the police must have been all over that house?’

  ‘Like they went through those photographs you mean?’ Tim said.

  Anna wasn’t fooled by her brother’s super-casual tone. By taking her back to where they’d found Lili’s body, Tim was trying to exorcise the shadows that had settled over the murder mystery weekend, reframing it for her as another one of their old childhood adventures.

  ‘I’d say there are two possibilities,’ he said. ‘If Lili thought she was taking the painting to Dominic the night of the ball, but then he didn’t show up and the murderer did, the murderer could have killed her to get the painting. Or—’

  ‘Or Lili realized she was in danger and hid the painting to keep it – and herself – safe?’

  ‘Exactly. So, get your lovely dog and your jacket and let’s go!’

  Tim’s vintage VW Golf was so old that it still had a tape-player. Tim took a tape from its plastic case and slotted it in the machine. He’d stuck a handwritten label on the case: Tim and Anna’s Awfully Big Adventure Play List. Anna laughed.

  ‘I know you guys never sleep, but please tell me you weren’t up all night compiling this mix tape?’

  ‘I’ve been compiling it for a while,’ he admitted. ‘With you for my big sister an adventure always seemed more or less inevitable.’

  They sang along raucously to tunes they’d loved when they were young. ‘Ce’st la vie’ by B*Witched. The Spice Girls’ ‘Wannabe’. They were still belting out Shaggy’s ‘Oh, Carolina,’ as Tim drove up the weedy expanse of gravel towards the looming, castle-like facade of Mortmead Hall. Anna’s high spirits faltered. It didn’t help that the weather, which had been sunny, had picked that exact moment to become depressingly overcast.

  ‘Not surprising it took so long to sell,’ Tim commented. ‘It’s hideous. Plus, you can see how damp it is from here. Dominic is going to have to spend a fortune to get it up to code.’

  ‘It didn’t feel damp,’ Anna said, ‘when we were there.’

  ‘That’s because Anjali’s team brought in massive industrial dehumidifiers and fan heaters at vast expense. It’s been raining buckets since then.’

  And there had been crowds of people, Anna thought, and costumes and sound effects, and all kinds of theatrical ploys to distract the murder mystery participants from the essential desolation of this house. But, minus the 1940s props and the manufactured excitement, Mortmead Hall seemed to exude an eerie menace. It was something about the upstairs windows, Anna thought, which made her imagine someone looking down on them with malign intent. Damn you, Charlotte Bronte, she thought.

  Tim looked every bit as uneasy as she felt.

  ‘We don’t have to go in,’ he said, ‘it was probably a stupid idea.’

  ‘It was an excellent
idea,’ Anna corrected him, unbuckling her seat belt. ‘If we do find the painting I shall give you full credit. Plus, we’re here now and I’m not letting you chicken out on the doorstep.’

  ‘You always were braver than me,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘Ha! Finally, you admit it!’

  Leaving Bonnie in the car, with a window cracked open, they crunched up the gravel towards the house. Tim unlocked the door and Anna followed him into the hall. Inside, the house was deafeningly silent. Dead air, Anna thought. She could feel it pressing on her eardrums as if someone had shoved her underwater. Not a helpful image, Anna.

  They began exploring the ground floor. In the vast drawing room the furniture had been covered with white cloths. Tim opened a wall cupboard and felt around inside. They went into the library, the billiard room and the ballroom, which looked especially depressing without its forties glamour. Tim knocked experimentally on one of the walls.

  ‘What are you doing, Watson?’ Anna said. ‘Checking for secret panels?’

  ‘Does that make you Sherlock?’ Tim asked, amused.

  ‘Was that ever in any doubt?’

  They walked down the long gloomy corridor to the kitchens, their footsteps unnaturally loud in that odd, bandaged silence. Something creaked, a scarcely perceptible sound and they both spun around but of course there was nobody there.

  ‘This is dumb,’ Tim said. ‘We’re not going to find anything.’

  ‘Probably not,’ Anna admitted, ‘but we should at least check around upstairs before we go.’

  They retraced their steps to the front hall and made their way up the wide oak staircase to the echoing dormitories – with their institutional bathrooms – and the old matron’s room, where Anna had slept with her friends. Finally, they went up to the attics, which were also empty, echoed eerily and smelled of damp and dust.

  ‘This house is too big,’ Tim said. ‘If we knew which parts Lili passed through …’ His voice tailed off. ‘We should probably look up the chimneys at least?’ He didn’t sound too keen, Anna thought.