The Nine Bright Shiners

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘There’ve been murders in many places, Jan. If you let that worry you, you’d never go back to Rylands.’

  She shuddered and sipped her wine. He was right. It had startled her, at Christmas, to learn of the Pennyfarthings murder. She’d little thought that two more would touch her much more closely.

  To escape the thought, she moved over to the desk, whose surface was covered with sketches and artwork.

  ‘Is this the project you were telling me about?’

  He joined her. ‘That’s right. Three hundred years of Buckhurst Grange and the Cleverleys. The family crest, here, will feature on second-class stamps, and this miniaturized photo of the house on first-class. For higher denominations, I’ve looked out portraits of outstanding members of the family, starting with the first Lord Cleverley.’

  ‘It all looks most impressive.’

  ‘I’m doing the TV tie-in at the moment. It’s going quite well, but we’re at a delicate stage of negotiations and I’ll breathe more freely once it all receives committee approval. Now –’ He walked back to the fire and threw on another log. ‘I’ve put plates to warm in the oven. Who’ll come with me to the Chinese to choose our supper?’

  ‘I will!’ said both children together.

  ‘Then if you’ll tell me where things are, I’ll lay the table,’ Jan offered.

  It was an informal and enjoyable meal, with Miles more relaxed than she’d seen him. Again it surprised her that, unused to children as he was, he should be so natural with them.

  Later, as she was washing the dishes at the sink in the cupboard, he commented, ‘You mentioned a book of Sir Reginald’s.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Jan glanced over her shoulder. The children were just behind her, playing with a beautiful old Solitaire set. ‘It wasn’t important,’ she said. She did not wish to speak about jewels in their hearing till she’d discovered what was worrying them.

  ‘But you’ve aroused my curiosity.’

  ‘Another time,’ she answered quietly.

  ‘Ah, I see. Pas devant les enfants. Very well, I’ll contain myself.’ He dried a glass carefully and reached above her to place it on a shelf, and his sudden closeness sent an uncontrollable frisson through her body which she prayed he hadn’t noticed. Hastily she tipped the water away, dried her hands, and moved out of the enforced intimacy of the tiny kitchen.

  But half an hour later, when the children ran ahead of her into the hall of Cajabamba and she turned to Miles for a last word of thanks, it was clear her reaction had been noted. With a swiftness that took her by surprise, he bent forward and kissed her, briefly but penetratingly. Then he turned and ran back down the steps, leaving her weak and shaking, leaning against the door-frame for support. With an effort she straightened and closed the door, on Miles and, she hoped, on the incident. But her trembling body, deprived for months now of its lovemaking, warned her that in future she must be careful not to be alone with Miles.

  CHAPTER 10

  Saturday morning, and still the snow fell. Jan stood at the window watching the soft, uneven flakes landing on the sill, restlessly wondering how they should pass the day. With half her mind, she wanted to return to Rylands; despite the horror, it was more home than the elderly ambience of Cajabamba. And they couldn’t stay here for the three and a half weeks that remained of their visit; it would be an imposition on Lady Peel and too restricting for the children.

  Yet the other half of her shrank from the thought of being alone, surrounded by the silent snow, looking fearfully for unauthorized footsteps round the house.

  She turned back into the room. Lady Peel had not yet come down, and the children were colouring some books they’d bought at Ringmere. At least she could have the talk with them that she’d been promising herself. She walked over to the games table and sat down opposite Julie.

  ‘I have some questions I’d like to ask you both,’ she said quietly. ‘First, Ben, why did you tell Julie the man who killed Lily would kill you, too? And Julie, what did you mean by saying the Crown Jewels weren’t as good as Aunt Rowena’s?’

  The children had both looked up, and a warning glance passed between them.

  ‘I want the truth,’ Jan continued. ‘You’ve both been worried about something, and I want to know what it is.’

  There was a long silence, then Ben said gruffly, ‘OK, we’ll tell you if you’ll promise not to be cross.’

  ‘Well?’

  He wriggled on his chair, looking quickly at his sister and then away again. ‘Remember the morning we explored the house, and then went to play upstairs?’

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘Well, there was nothing interesting in the attics, so Julie decided to dress up. She was going to put on your cocktail frock, but then Lotus hooked open Aunt Rowena’s door. Lily couldn’t have closed it properly when she’d been dusting.’

  ‘Go on.’

  Ben flushed and started doodling on his crayoning book. ‘Well, you know what a fuss she’d made, when I nearly went in by mistake. We thought since the door was open, we’d have a look and see what was so marvellous. It seemed pretty ordinary, but there was a belt hanging out of the wardrobe and Lotus started playing with it. We thought she’d scratch the leather, so we opened the door to push it inside. And when Julie saw Aunt Rowena’s clothes she thought it would be more fun to dress up in them.’

  Jan opened her mouth to remonstrate, and closed it again. Julie let the whine creep into her voice. ‘We knew you’d be cross, so we didn’t want to tell you.’

  ‘Go on,’ Jan said again.

  It was Julie who continued. ‘Well, I tried on a pair of high-heels, but when I tried to walk in them, I wobbled so much I nearly fell, and I – put out a hand to steady myself.’

  ‘Yes?’ Somehow, this must be important, at least to the children.

  ‘But the clothes on the rail just swung back and I lost my balance and fell through them, banging against the back of the wardrobe. And – and it started to open.’

  Jan stared at her. ‘To open? What on earth –?’

  ‘Like a secret passage,’ said Ben. ‘The back of the wardrobe started to slide back, and because Julie was leaning against it, she half-fell inside.’

  ‘But inside what? You’re not trying to tell me there’s a secret passage at Rylands?’

  But they didn’t smile with her. ‘Not a passage,’ Ben said seriously, ‘but there was a tiny room behind there.’

  ‘And that’s where the jewels were, round someone’s neck,’ Julie said in a rush.

  Jan’s mouth went dry. ‘Will you explain that?’

  ‘I thought at first it was a real person, like in my dream, and I was very scared, but it was only a dummy after all.’

  Jan said slowly, ‘Look, darling, you must be mistaken. You’re talking about a dark space behind a wardrobe. You couldn’t have seen anything clearly. You must just have thought you –’

  ‘It wasn’t dark,’ Ben interrupted. ‘A light came on in the wardrobe when we opened the door. It was shining straight on to the jewels, and a round gold thing.’

  Jan said faintly, ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘Well, nothing. Everything happened so quickly. One minute we were staring in, then Julie stood up and took her hand off the wood, and the back slid shut again.’

  Julie shuddered. ‘I was nearly shut inside.’ That, too, had figured in her nightmare.

  Ben said, ‘So when the burglar came, we knew what he was looking for. And I thought if he found out we’d seen the jewels, he’d come after us. So we decided not to say anything.’

  ‘You never went back for another look?’

  Again the exchanged glance. ‘We did try,’ Julie confessed with bent head. ‘But though we pressed and pressed, it wouldn’t open.’

  ‘When you say wardrobe, you mean it was a fitted one, not freestanding as they are here?’

  ‘It was built in, like we have at home.’

  ‘But it just doesn’t make sense. The house isn’t old enough for secre
t rooms.’

  ‘It wasn’t really a room,’ Ben said consideringly, ‘more like a cupboard. We wondered if Grandpa’d used it, when it was his and Granny’s room.’

  Counter-intelligence. Her father’d been in counterintelligence. Had he by any chance had the space made during the War, to hide a radio set, secret documents? As to the jewels, perhaps Rowena used it as an enlarged safe. It would explain why she hadn’t wanted the children in her room.

  She said, ‘Can you describe exactly what you saw?’

  Ben thought for a moment while Julie silently went on with her crayoning. ‘They were on a little table, the gold thing in front, and behind it a lady’s head and shoulders like they have in shop windows, with the jewels draped round it, shining brightly in the light.’

  ‘So it was a necklace you saw?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘And that was all? No rings or bangles?’

  ‘We didn’t see anything else.’

  ‘Well, it was lucky it was well hidden, and the burglar didn’t find it.’ Though how could he have known about it?

  There was a tap on the door and Edith came in with coffee and the children’s milk. ‘Her Ladyship will be down in a minute,’ she reported.

  Jan stood up, glad of the interruption. The overdue discussion was behind her, and the children’s minds set at rest. But her own still circled round the necklace, beautiful and unseen in its hiding-place. Why was it so elaborately displayed, instead of being safely in its box? And what was the round gold thing Ben had mentioned? A tray of some sort? Most puzzling of all, had the children really seen what they said, or was it part of some complicated make-believe that they’d come to accept as the truth? All in all, that seemed the most likely explanation.

  ‘David? I hope I’m not interrupting anything?’

  ‘Hello, Hannah.’ Surprise sounded in his voice. She very seldom rang him at the station. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I tried to phone last night, but there was no reply. Could you possibly call round? I’ve learned something which might interest you – to do with the case.’

  He smiled. ‘That’s a tempting prospect, mixing business with pleasure.’

  ‘And if you could stretch it to include lunch –’

  ‘Best offer I’ve had all week.’ His eyes went to the wall clock. ‘One o’clock suit you?’

  ‘Fine. See you then.’

  She was wearing a pale blue jumper and fawn slacks, and she looked delectable. Webb, who maintained that no woman over thirty should wear trousers, happily acknowledged she was an exception. A spicy smell was emanating from the kitchen, and he found he was hungrier than he’d realized; and, as he sat down in his usual chair, more tired. It was very tempting to relax, to imagine this was an ordinary Saturday afternoon and his time was his own.

  ‘Drink?’ Hannah inquired from the doorway.

  ‘I’d better stick to beer, love, if you’ve got some.’

  ‘Of course I have.’

  He watched her as she came towards him, imprinting another picture of her on his memory: thick, tawny hair, today held back with a tortoiseshell band; wide forehead, clear grey eyes. Better stop the inventory before his feelings got the better of him. He took the glass from her.

  ‘Know how I’d like to spend the afternoon?’

  She laughed. ‘From the look in your eyes, I can guess.’

  ‘Why can’t murder cases finish neatly on Friday evenings?’

  ‘You tell me.’

  They had an unspoken rule not to discuss their work over meals. Today, however, knowing his time was limited, Hannah waived it.

  ‘Remember asking me about Laurence Cody?’ she said, as she ladled a fragrant curry on to his plate.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Well, in yesterday’s Current Affairs class they were discussing the present expedition, and one of the girls said Cody came to give a talk to the school when her mother was head girl.’

  ‘Really? When would that have been?’

  ‘July, nineteen-sixty. What’s more, the talk was written up in the school magazine, and Karen’s mother still has a copy. I haven’t seen it myself, but apparently he told them he’d written a book.’

  ‘Cody had? Have you ever heard of it?’

  ‘No – I got the impression it’s never been published. It was about the third expedition he went on with Langley and Peel.’

  Webb laid down his fork. ‘Was it, indeed? That could be interesting. Where does this family live?’

  ‘Lethbridge Close, up by the golf club.’

  ‘Right, if I can use your phone, I’ll see if they’re home this afternoon.’

  Lethbridge Close was a small cul-de-sac off the Lethbridge Road. Mrs Stevens was watching for him, and opened the door as his car pulled up outside.

  ‘Chief Inspector Webb? Do come in.’

  She was a small woman in her mid-forties, her face saved from plainness by magnificent brown eyes. She was wearing a red kilt in some obscure tartan – though most tartans were obscure to Webb – and a cashmere sweater with a scarf at her throat.

  ‘If you’d like to come through, I have the magazine ready for you. And perhaps you’d care for some coffee?’

  The house was modern and spacious, with patio doors giving on to a snow-covered garden. A tall, thin man stood up as they entered, whom Mrs Stevens introduced as her husband. Their daughter was not present.

  Webb seated himself on a comfortable sofa and picked up the magazine. On the front cover were the words ‘Ashbourne School for Girls’, and beneath them the school shield which he’d seen before, with the motto curved round the top of it. Along the foot of the page were the words ‘Summer 1960’.

  ‘It’s on page nineteen,’ Mrs Stevens said, smoothing her kilt as she sat down by the coffee-pot.

  Webb accepted a cup from her husband and settled back to read.

  One of the outstanding events of the term was a visit by the explorer, Mr Laurence Cody, who gave us an illustrated talk on Peru. He had many stories to tell about the Incas and their fabulous wealth, which was destroyed by the Conquistadores. There was a garden in Cuzco where everything was made of gold, beautifully worked flowers and leaves, and replicas of maize with silver stems and golden ears.

  Mr Cody also told us some Inca legends, about the Sun God who sent his children to teach the natives civilization, and of white-bearded men coming out of Lake Titicaca, and it was very exciting to see on the screen the places he was talking about.

  At the end of the talk he agreed to answer questions. Alice Manning asked about the Nazca lines in the desert, and Pippa Clyde wanted to know more about the Amazon. Then Janet Forsyth asked Mr Cody when he’d be going back to Peru. To our surprise, he said he was never going back. Janet asked him why, and he said the answer was in a book he’d written about the last expedition. However, it wouldn’t be published till after his death and that of his fellow explorers, because it contained highly sensitive material.

  Miss Seymour proposed a vote of thanks, and everyone expressed their enjoyment of the talk with prolonged applause.

  Webb looked up and met Mrs Stevens’s eye. ‘I believe you were actually at the talk, ma’am?’

  ‘Yes, I was.’

  ‘Does your recollection agree with this account?’

  ‘I think so, yes.’

  ‘And what was your impression of Laurence Cody?’

  ‘He was rather a romantic figure, we thought – tall, dark and brooding.’ It could, Webb thought, be a description of his son. ‘Then, of course, he disappeared from public view and became something of a recluse. I think that talk was one of the last he gave.’

  ‘Perhaps he wasn’t prepared to be questioned any more on the third expedition.’

  ‘Do you know, you could be right. I never thought of that.’ She hesitated. ‘Didn’t I read recently of the death of Sir Reginald Peel? Perhaps Mr Cody’s book will be published at last.’

  ‘If he really did write one. He could have been simply f
obbing off questions and creating a mystery.’ But Webb didn’t believe that. In nineteen-sixty, he was sure, the manuscript had existed. The question was, did it now?

  Webb rose to his feet. ‘I’m extremely grateful to you for allowing me to read this. Would you mind if I took it with me? It’ll be returned as soon as we’ve finished with it.’

  ‘By all means, if you think it will help.’ She hesitated. ‘Karen thought it was something to do with that body that was found at Chedbury?’

  ‘It could very well be. Thank you for your help, Mrs Stevens – and the coffee.’

  Jackson was waiting in the office when he got back to Carrington Street. ‘Guess where we’re going?’ Webb greeted him.

  Jackson grinned. ‘Peru?’

  ‘You could well be right.’

  ‘You’re not serious, Guv?’

  ‘Oh, but I am. The further this case progresses, the more urgent it becomes to interview Langley. We thought from the beginning the answer lay at least partly with him. It’s time we learned how much of it. Still, we’re not setting off straight away. Broadminster will do for this afternoon.’

  ‘Who are we going to see this time?’

  ‘In the absence of the Langleys, Miles Cody and Janis Coverdale. The descendants of the original explorers.’

  In the car, Webb told Jackson about the school magazine.

  ‘Well, we might have guessed, mightn’t we? They all do it, these blokes.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Write books. As soon as they set foot back in dear old Blighty, they whip out the old ballpoint and write their memoirs.’

  ‘But they usually send them hot-foot to the publishers. They don’t sit on them till they’ve no hope of earning any royalties.’

  ‘What do you reckon he meant by “highly sensitive material”?’

  ‘God knows. Could be libellous, I suppose.’

  Jackson chuckled. ‘Then he was wise to get out of the way first. Still, if it was, no publisher would touch it, would they?’

  Webb shrugged. ‘It will be interesting to hear what Master Miles has to say.’

  Cody greeted them with a blank face. They received the impression that they were an unwelcome interruption to his schedule. ‘Yes, Chief Inspector? What is it this time? I’ve already given an account of my movements on Wednesday, though as no doubt you know, innocent people seldom have alibis.’