A Killer Ball at Honeychurch Hall

by Hannah Dennison

  “We don’t know what time Ginny was snatched at this point, Roxy,” Shawn replied. “Let’s deal with the facts.” Shawn handed me a scrap of paper. “My private mobile phone number. Go home. Be careful.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Mum fumed and slammed her gin and tonic down on the kitchen table. “So now I’m able to clone myself, zip over to Ginny’s, abduct her … pop in for a quick cup of coffee with Peggy … and all before lunch?”

  “I’m under suspicion, too.”

  “It’s obvious that Bryan Laney has something to do with it,” said Mum. “They should be questioning him.”

  “They will. Oh, Mum, I’m worried sick about Ginny. Roxy told me that it was a bluff—that she didn’t really know who was responsible for Pandora’s death.”

  “Ginny will turn up. This is Little Dipperton. Maybe someone put her in an abandoned shed until she agrees not to write any more stories about Honeychurch Hall. We should get Alfred to do some channeling.”

  “This isn’t a joke.”

  “He’s been very successful in the past,” Mum protested.

  “With finding Mr. Chips,” I pointed out.

  “You have no idea what Alfred can do.”

  “I don’t think I want to.”

  “All he needs is something Ginny has worn. An old sweater, perhaps.”

  I laughed. “I know that Alfred can communicate with animals but are you assuming he can change into a bloodhound?”

  “He’s done it before.”

  “I’ll let you tell Shawn,” I said.

  “And there is something else,” said Mum. “Eric has already taken the Hollar paintings to Luxton’s but I don’t want you to worry. Everything is under control.”

  “I’d forgotten all about that,” I said. “Well, since we’re both banned from the Hall, I’m not getting involved anymore.”

  “Good.”

  I regarded Mum with suspicion. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “You don’t remember, do you?”

  “What?”

  “Remember the insurance scam?” said Mum. “And that list of items that had been reported stolen and some were hidden in the underground tunnel?”

  “Yes, I remember. Why?”

  “The Hollar drawings were on that list, too.”

  “No, they weren’t,” I said. “You’re talking about the oil paintings by John Collier, not the drawings by Wenceslaus Hollar.”

  Mum looked smug. “It’s just as well you’ve got me, dear.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well. Peggy mentioned that her ladyship had changed her mind about selling the Steiff bear and that Eric had gone off to Luxton’s with the Hollar drawings.”

  “And?”

  “I had one of my weird premonitions so I went and took a look at that list.”

  “You went through my private things again?”

  “You told me that David had given you a copy, remember? Wait! Where are you going?” Mum shouted as I tore up the stairs. “Guilt!” she yelled. “I bet he already knew ahead of time that he was going to renew his vows with Cruella.”

  In the drawer in my night table I still kept a box with all my letters from David that I’d been meaning to throw out. There, in an envelope marked June 21, 1990 was a photocopy of the police report detailing the fact that an intruder had entered the French windows in the dining room in the middle of the night; that there had been no alarm; no broken windows and no witnesses. A list, handwritten by David, itemized the pieces that were claimed as stolen.

  Mum was right. Alongside the Collier painting, was the word Hollars. The ink was smudged and I suppose the spelling looked so similar I hadn’t thought to take a closer look. The minute the paintings entered the cataloguing database, the Art & Antiques Unit would get an alert.

  I raced back to the kitchen, flapping the list. “What are we going to do?”

  Mum beamed. “You’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  “Are you mad?” I shrieked. “There is everything to worry about!”

  Mum carried on smiling.

  “When did Eric take them? I need to talk to Eric.”

  “Calm down!” said Mum. “Alfred is taking care of everything. And I mean … everything.”

  “What has Alfred got to do with this?”

  Mum’s smile kept growing broader. She tapped the side of her nose. “The less you know, the better.”

  I thought for a moment. “He’s going to steal them back, isn’t he?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you the details,” said Mum. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” The thought was horrifying. “When?”

  Mum’s eyes were alive with excitement. “All I can say is that you are in excellent hands.”

  “Please don’t tell me he’s going to break into the warehouse?”

  “It’s Saturday night. No one will be there. I thought it was a jolly good idea.”

  I could feel myself becoming hysterical. “They have security guards. There are surveillance cameras everywhere. Who does Alfred think he is? Tom Cruise?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Mum again. “He’s used to all that. He’s an expert.”

  “Not so much of an expert. He’s been caught enough times.”

  Mum frowned a bit. “He’s not as agile as he once was, I admit, but he’s very fit for a man of his age.”

  “Call him,” I said. “Call him right now and tell him to come back.”

  “I can’t call him. He doesn’t have a mobile.”

  I made a beeline for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to stop him,” I roared.

  “You’re too late. Alfred is probably doing it right now.”

  I thought for a moment. “Wait—Alfred doesn’t have a car.”

  “He borrowed my MINI.”

  “Oh great, so if he’s caught, it’ll be in your car.” I thought again. “Does he actually know what the Hollar paintings look like?”

  Mum’s smile faltered. “Perhaps you’d better go after him, after all.”

  “God help me,” I muttered.

  “And put on something black!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  All thoughts of Ginny and Pandora’s demise flew clean out of my head as I drove the twenty-five miles to Newton Abbot as fast as I dared.

  For a Saturday night, the roads were busy and it took me a full forty-five minutes to reach Heathfield Business Park where Luxton’s had their storage facility.

  The land had once belonged to a stately home called Heathfield Place. The eighteenth-century house had been pulled down thirty years ago to make way for the town’s bypass—yet another casualty to progress. All that was left were the two stone pillars that used to flank the main entrance but were now covered in graffiti.

  I pulled up next to a large board that mapped the location of each company in the business park. Luxton’s was on the far side of the park in unit 23. A sign warned of twenty-four-hour surveillance and a security guard patrol … with a dog.

  I’d been to Luxton’s once before and had gotten horribly lost. It was a warren of roads lined with square, flat-roofed, windowless boxes that all looked the same. It was dreary enough during the day, but at night, the empty car parks took on a rather sinister air.

  I set off again and tried to concoct a feasible story in case I was stopped. Wouldn’t that look peachy on the front page of the Daily Post! Heathfield Business Park was hardly somewhere anyone stumbled upon.

  And then I saw Mum’s MINI and I swear my heart skipped a beat.

  It was parked in the middle of the road and what’s more, it was empty.

  I drew up alongside and got out. The door was unlocked but the keys were still inside. I just didn’t know what to do. Perhaps Alfred had his reasons to continue on foot. After all, he was the expert—apparently.

  With a feeling of dread, I got back into my car
and began crawling the roads looking left and right for Alfred. I took the spur down to unit 23 but there was no sign of him anywhere.

  I was growing increasingly nervous. Had the security guard picked him up for questioning—or maybe, the worst had happened and he had been arrested! It was the only reason I could think of for abandoning Mum’s car.

  I was about to turn around and head home when out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a dark figure in the shadows. He was holding two large rectangular packages.

  It had to be Alfred.

  I flashed my headlights.

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  I opened my window. “Alfred!” I called out urgently. “Quickly. Get in.”

  Alfred part-ran, part-staggered under the weight of his heavy load. He was dressed all in black and was actually wearing a balaclava.

  I leapt out, threw open the hatchback—and gasped. There were four boxes, not two.

  “Drive, just drive!” Alfred shouted.

  I slammed down the hatchback and jumped in, executed a perfect three-point turn and we sped away.

  “Why are there four boxes?” I demanded.

  “I took a couple of others.” Alfred was wheezing from exertion. He ripped off his balaclava. “It’s got to look like a break-in.”

  “It was a break-in!” I shrieked. “Why would you do that? Oh God, we’ll all be arrested.”

  “Calm down, luv,” said Alfred. “This isn’t my first rodeo and put your foot down. I reckon we’ve got five minutes before this place is crawling with coppers.”

  We sped toward the main entrance but I suddenly remembered and slammed on the brakes. “Mum’s MINI!” I cried. “We have to go back and get it.”

  “Can’t. Guard won’t be knocked out for long.”

  “Knocked out?”

  “And there’s a snag,” said Alfred.

  “A snag?”

  “Old Iris … she really should keep her petrol tank filled up.”

  “You ran out of petrol?” I gasped.

  “But don’t you worry about that. I’ve got you covered, luv.”

  “No, no! We can’t leave it.”

  “Pull yourself together!” Alfred said sharply. “We’re not going back.”

  I practically took the corner out of the business park on two wheels. Moments later, three police cars with flashing lights sped past us with their sirens howling. As they receded into the distance Alfred started to cackle with glee then promptly dissolved into one of his coughing fits.

  “I don’t know how you can find this funny!” I was severely shaken up. “They’ll see Mum’s car! They’ll find it. We’re doomed.”

  “Stop panicking,” said Alfred. “We got out. We’re fine. And good job on driving the getaway car. Didn’t think you had it in you. Wait until I tell Iris.”

  “If she hasn’t already been arrested.”

  “We should take a back road,” said Alfred. “Just in case.”

  I took the long way home, winding up and down narrow country lanes where some even had grass growing down the middle. Now that there were a lot of miles between Newton Abbot and us my heart rate had returned to normal.

  “I’m glad you know where you are going.” Alfred sounded impressed.

  “I ride around here,” I said. “I know all these roads—oh!”

  Up ahead I saw the rear of a white Vauxhall Astra parked on the side of the road. “It’s the police!”

  “No, it’s not,” said Alfred with a confidence I definitely did not feel. “Just a couple getting a bit of nooky. Take it slow. Don’t attract attention.”

  In fact, the car was empty but as we drove by, I noticed the dent in the rear passenger door. It threw me for a moment. Surely, it wasn’t Pippa’s car? But no, that made no sense. She’d never leave Max at home alone.

  Alfred gave a sigh of relief. I stole a glimpse at my mother’s stepbrother and for the first time, saw that his face held traces of fear.

  “Alfred, you’re supposed to be on parole,” I said. “You took a huge risk doing this for Edith and the family.”

  “Yeah, well, her ladyship took a chance on me. I wanted to help.”

  “But what are we going to do?” I said.

  “Trust me,” said Alfred. “Just trust me. The main thing is that we didn’t get caught.”

  The lane ended in a T-junction. I turned right, went straight across a tiny crossroads, turned left and then we were back in Cavalier Lane.

  “See!” I said. “One more hairpin bend and we’re home.”

  A pair of headlights swept around the corner.

  “Are we?” Alfred croaked. “I’m not so sure.”

  I pulled over to allow the car to pass and my heart sank.

  It was a police panda and in the driver’s seat sat Shawn. Even worse, he stopped and opened his window.

  “Act normal!” hissed Alfred.

  A glance at the clock on my dashboard declared it was anything but normal. It was gone midnight. “How can they have gotten here so fast?”

  Alfred didn’t answer.

  I had to shield my eyes from the glare of a flashlight that Shawn shone full in my face.

  “Good heavens!” he cried. “Katherine?”

  “Evening, Shawn,” I said gaily.

  Alfred leaned over me. “Evening, Officer.”

  Shawn turned his flashlight onto his watch. I saw the cuff of striped pajamas beneath his trench coat sleeve. “I would say it’s good morning, wouldn’t you?”

  “I suppose it is.” I gave a silly grin. “How time flies.”

  “Where have you two been?” Shawn went on.

  “I’m glad we’ve bumped into you, Officer,” said Alfred smoothly. “Iris’s car was stolen this evening and we’ve been looking all over the countryside for it.”

  “That’s right!” I exclaimed. “Stolen. She’s really upset.”

  “Stolen?” Shawn frowned. “What time was this?”

  Alfred leaned over me again. “This evening, Officer,” he said. “Silly woman always leaves the keys in the ignition. I told her one day this would happen.”

  Shawn had to know about the break-in at the warehouse. He had to—and the paintings were in the back of my car!

  “Tonight, eh.” Shawn stroked his chin thoughtfully. “And you reported this theft, I presume?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then I will do so for you. License plate?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “We’ll call you tomorrow with the information.”

  But then I had a horrible thought and my mother’s MINI was forgotten. It was a question I just had to ask.

  “You’re out late,” I said. “Is this about Ginny? Have you found her?”

  “Unfortunately no,” Shawn said grimly. “I just hope this isn’t a sign of things to come.”

  I didn’t think I could handle any more shocks today. “Why? Whatever’s happened?”

  “Bryan Laney has been murdered.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Murdered!” I squeaked.

  “Who did you say was murdered?” Alfred demanded.

  “Bryan Laney,” said Shawn.

  Alfred went perfectly still.

  “You knew him?” Shawn asked.

  “No,” said Alfred quickly.

  I thought back to the comment Alfred had made in the kitchen and started to wonder. Other than the break-in at the warehouse, I was Alfred’s only alibi unless …

  “When did this happen?”

  “We’re waiting for confirmation but he was last seen alive at nine forty-five,” said Shawn. “So between then and when his lordship discovered the body.”

  “Rupert found him?” This was a surprise.

  “His lordship was taking the tradesman’s entrance and found his body in the culvert.”

  This was odd. To my knowledge, Rupert rarely used that entrance.

  “What happened to him?” I asked.

  “That’s all I can tell you at this time,” said Shawn. “O
bviously we will be talking to everyone and ascertaining their movements this evening. We’ll be taking particular note of any unusual behavior—such as your little jaunt to find a stolen car.”

  “Do you think this could be connected to Ginny’s disappearance?” I said.

  “We’re not ruling anything out at this time.”

  Bryan had been my prime suspect for both Pandora and Ginny. His death truly shocked me.

  “Now, it’s late,” said Shawn. “I suggest you go home. We’ll want to speak to everyone at the Hall later this morning.”

  We set off once more, both of us unable to speak. I realized my hands were shaking. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “About what?” Alfred said.

  “Bryan Laney has been murdered.”

  “Nothing to do with me.”

  “And what about Mum’s car,” I exclaimed. “Who is going to tell her?”

  “Pull yourself together and let a man think,” snapped Alfred. “This is serious and I don’t need a hysterical female flapping about and making it worse. Do you understand?”

  I was so taken aback by this unexpected flash of anger than I realized what I was really dealing with. Alfred was a hardened criminal who had served time.

  As I turned into the courtyard, my heart sank even further.

  “Oh blimey,” said Alfred. “This is all we need.”

  Mum was sitting on the mounting block wrapped in her mink coat. She scrambled down and hurried over before I’d even turned off the ignition.

  “Where have you been?” she demanded. “Something awful has happened. Where’s Alfred? Oh—what are you doing here? Where’s my car?”

  “We’ll explain in a minute, Mum,” I said. “You’ve heard about Bryan?”

  “Of course I have!” Mum exclaimed. “I’ve been worried sick. There’s obviously a killer on the loose.”

  I regarded her with suspicion. “But you thought it was okay to wait outside in the dark?”

  “I kept thinking you would be back at any minute,” Mum protested. “I’m frozen to the bone.”

  “I suggest we all go inside and have a brandy,” said Alfred. “It’s been a long night.”

  * * *

  “I thought you’d have the sense to check the petrol tank,” Mum shouted ten minutes later.

  “I didn’t expect you to be driving around on empty,” Alfred shouted back.