Amanda Cadabra and The Cellar of Secrets

by Holly Bell

  ‘I’m glad. Amanda, then.’

  ‘Well. Chief Inspe—‘

  ‘I’m retired you know. Call me Mike.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t!’ Amanda had been brought up old-school-style to address her elders with respect.

  ‘Let’s see. How about Uncle Mike?’

  ‘Yes … I can manage that. As long as it’s not too familiar,’ replied Amanda.

  ‘Not at all. I’d be honoured to have you call me Uncle Mike.’

  She smiled, more at her ease. ‘Uncle Mike, then.’

  ‘So what’s it all about?’

  ‘Did Inspector Trelawney tell you? About the murder in the lab?’

  ‘Yes, and how you found the body, and were consulting him about police procedure.’

  ‘Then I expect he told you what I asked him to do?’ she queried, with a slight blush.

  ‘Indeed, and that was a bridge too far for him. But tell me about it anyway.’

  ‘Yes, well, you see, while I was in there, in the lab, the day I found the body, I sensed ….’ Amanda tailed off, uncertain of how best to express it.

  ‘You saw something? Something you didn’t think other people would believe?’ Hogarth suggested helpfully.

  ‘Yes, … or … or —’

  ‘Would ridicule?’ he guessed.

  She nodded emphatically.

  ‘Or just dismiss? Or think you were mad?’

  ‘Yes! Yes, exactly!’

  ‘And you think that what you experienced might be material — or should we say immaterial — evidence?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, you do understand?’

  ‘I do. “There are more things in heaven and earth…’

  ‘… than are dreamed of in our philosophy”.’ finished Amanda whole-heartedly.

  ‘You didn’t feel you could confide this to Inspector Trelawney?’ asked Hogarth.

  ‘Hardly!’ Amanda exclaimed.

  ‘Perhaps you are right. Or not. Time will tell. Are you going to tell me what you saw?’

  This time Perran and Senara did not present themselves to guide Amanda. Her instinct was to trust him. She was in this too deep, he was her only hope. Miss Armstrong-Witworth had said she’d gone far enough to have put herself in danger. There was no going back.

  Amanda asked tentatively, ‘Do you know about … other dimensions?’

  ‘I do. You saw someone from one? What most people would call a ghost?’

  ‘Yes. He thought I was from his time, the 1940s. I could tell the period from the way he was dressed. I think his name is George. There’s an elderly lady I know, who had a friend, called Violet, who lived in Little Madley. Violet had a boyfriend of that name. The last time Violet saw George was in the pub, on the night of the bombing.’

  ‘OK,’ said Hogarth, encouragingly.

  ‘He was a carpenter who worked on the Mosquito prototype that they were building at Salisbury Hall, just a few miles north of Sunken Madley, in the strictest secrecy. I know this because he asked me if I was working on the Wonder and they called it the Wooden Wonder, you see.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I asked him what had happened in the lab, and George said that he’d seen the same person as the one who’d stolen the plans. I think that those plans were some design specs, drawings for the Mosquito. George also said he’d seen the person at the Hall, and that would be Salisbury Hall, of course.’

  ‘Right,’ agreed Hogarth.

  Amanda continued, ‘The person that George saw in the lab that day, must have looked to him like the same person who stole the plans. What if the documents are still down there? There was a spy caught around that time; a German spy. What if that was the thief’s contact, the one they were going to give the plans to? Once the contact was arrested, what could they have done with the plans except hide them?’

  ‘That all sounds logical.’

  ‘But I need to know more. George said he’d meet me tonight. That was two or three days ago, but I figure if it was back in time then “tonight” could be any night. To him, that lab was the part of the pub he was standing in. I can meet George again and get him to meet me in another part of the pub, that’s now outside the lab, if ….’

  ‘If only you could go back in time …,’ said Hogarth, quietly.

  Amanda stopped breathlessly.

  ‘But you can, can’t you Amanda?’

  She didn’t know what to say, and remained silent.

  ‘In fact, there are a lot of things that you can do, aren’t there? Things that would make normal people very uncomfortable indeed.’

  Amanda sat quite still, neither confirming nor denying.

  Hogarth smiled reassuringly. ‘You’re safe with me. It’s all right. I can see you’ve been getting bits of help from this person and that person, and whatever resource you can, and well done. You’ve got this far.’

  Finally, Amanda spoke. ‘Thank you for recognising that. I did try to find him outside the building, but the police didn’t even like me being there. But I just have a feeling that, if I could get back inside that lab, the ghost, George, would show himself. He saw what happened, or he knows what happened or something to do with it.’

  ‘You do realise that the testimony of an individual in another dimension is inadmissible in court?’ said Hogarth.

  ‘Yes, but if we knew who killed the doctor and how, then we would know what kind of evidence we’re looking for,’ responded Amanda.

  ‘That’s certainly a reasonable assumption. So you want me to get you a visitor’s pass to the lab?’

  ‘Yes, please, Uncle Mike.’

  Hogarth nodded, ‘I think you deserve your break.’

  Chapter 40

  Trust and Circumspection

  Hogarth got out his phone and tapped. He sipped his tea while he waited, looking at Amanda.

  ‘Francis? Mike here. Sorry about the after-hours call …. I need a favour. The lab murder. Your turf, right? ... The young lady who discovered the body, Amanda Cadabra, she is an unusually insightful person … could you possibly get her five minutes in the lab alone? …. Yes, … and if she could roam around the grounds freely that would be …. ‘ Hogarth put his hand over the speaker and asked Amanda, ‘OK to give him your number?’

  Amanda nodded eagerly. She showed him her phone with the digits on the screen.

  ‘Here it comes. I’m texting it. …. OK … I’m skipping town for a while … Yes, the weather’s warming up down there …. OK, thanks. Over and out.’

  He smiled. ‘Done. Chief Inspector Francis Maxwell is your man. Here’s his number in case things get sticky. Don’t flash it around.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Amanda promised. ‘I’ll be discreet and deferential to whomever I deal with.’

  ‘Good girl.’ Hogarth put away his phone. ’What exactly happened when you tried Trelawney for this?’

  ‘He wouldn’t play ball at all. Didn’t want to tread on any toes, and, to be fair, I was very vague about my reasons.’

  ‘Ever thought of trusting him?’

  ‘No,’ she said straight away.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Hogarth.

  ‘He’s not like you.’

  ‘Sure about that?’

  ‘He doesn’t give credence to any of …. He doesn’t believe any of it and never will,’ she said with conviction.

  ‘Or maybe he’s just not ready to,’ Hogarth suggested.

  Amanda shrugged helplessly. ‘What’s the difference, Uncle Mike?’

  ‘Maybe you could encourage him to be ready.’

  This was a new thought to Amanda, and not an entirely comfortable one, at that. However, she had to trust her new ally.

  ‘What can I do?’ she asked.

  ‘Help him to remember. Help each other.’

  ‘To remember more?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘For peace of mind for both of you, for one reason,’ Hogarth explained.

  ‘I suppose
that’s a good one,’ Amanda conceded.

  ‘For another … don’t we all want to know the truth about what happened to your family?’

  Amanda’s colour rose. ‘Please don’t call them that, Uncle Mike. My family is my grandparents and my Aunt Amelia.’

  He looked her understandingly. ‘Your blood relations, then. Don’t you want to know?’

  ‘Why would I want to know?’ she asked carefully, regarding him intently. ‘I don’t care about the inheritance.’

  Hogarth looked at her seriously, and said slowly, ‘Because whoever went after them … if they thought you could do … useful things … will come after you, Amanda. You’ve known that for a long time. Haven’t you?’

  Suddenly the service station, the plastic table, the wooden chairs, the autumn dusk fading out of the sky outside the window, and the voices around them faded. It all seemed unreal. The misty world of the mystic, the cunning, the dark and light energy of magic seemed material and immediate.

  Amanda looked at him with solemn eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘But,’ Hogarth continued briskly, breaking the sombre mood. ‘Forewarned is forearmed, and you are not, have never been and never will be, alone, my dear. And whatever happens, they will not find you through me.’

  She felt a little relieved.

  ‘I understand your reticence,’ he said, ‘about going the whole hog with Trelawney, and you’re right. He’s not ready for your world. He’s not even ready to come to terms with all of his own, yet. But trust Trelawney as far as you can. I think he may surprise both of you. I must be going. I have to check in. I won’t be gone long: two weeks, perhaps more, perhaps less. I’ll let you know.’

  ‘You have to go?’

  ‘How else can I make a heroic re-entrance if I should be needed? To paraphrase my favourite fictional character, look to my coming, at first light, on the fourth week.’

  They got up, Hogarth insisted on paying, and they walked to the Audi.

  ‘Once you’ve dropped me off, go straight home now. No detours through the woods, no stopping to pick flowers or chat with wolves,’ Hogarth bade Amanda.

  ‘And trust the Woodcutter!’ she returned, mischievously.

  Amanda stopped outside the car and hugged him. ‘Thank you, Uncle Mike.’

  ‘Oo, a hug. You haven’t given me one of those for many a long year!’ he said appreciatively.

  ‘Well, it’s my last chance before you go. I can’t hug you when I’m playing cabbie.’

  ‘Yes, that would present a rather odd appearance. Bet it would get you lots of gentlemen customers, though!’

  Amanda laughed. They got under way. It was a few short miles to Heathrow Airport Terminal 3.

  Hogarth said, ‘No point in taking chances. When you drop me off, open the boot, and come to the back of the car with me. I’ll ask you to go and get a trolley.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘You bring it back, I’ll put the heavy bag on, and you put the laptop on top. I’ll give you £35.’

  ‘There’s no need!’ Amanda protested.

  ‘Just as I would a real cabbie, to preserve the fiction, do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, I see.’

  ‘You can fill up the petrol tank with it for your neighbour.’

  ‘Thank you. I will.’

  ‘Yes, well, you take the money, then get in the car and drive off, without waving or looking at me.’

  ‘Yes, I understand.’

  ‘Take the M25 north anti-clockwise.’

  ‘Yes, I know it,’ Amanda confirmed.

  ‘Check around you. I doubt very much that you’ll be followed, but just to be sure.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Here we are … turn in here. Now … we’re on.’

  They exited the car. Amanda went and fetched the luggage trolley. As Hogarth produced his wallet, she said quietly, ‘Are you going to be all right?’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied confidently, taking out three ten-pound notes. ‘People like us are never without resources.’ Hogarth put them into her hand, and he looked into her eyes, ‘… are we, Amanda Cadabra?’ He gave a barely perceptible wink before he turned away, and pushed his trolley towards the glass doors of the terminal.

  Mindful of his instructions, Amanda closed the boot, got into the car and drove away, without a backward look, but with a feverishly speculating brain.

  Chapter 41

  In the Lab

  Amanda had come off the M25, and was on the road down towards Barnet, when her phone dinged and showed a text. She pulled over. It was from Chief Inspector Maxwell, Hogarth’s friend.

  Evening shift starts in 20 minutes. Constable on duty doesn’t know anything about the case, is just standing guard. Get there asap before he settles in. I’ve told him to expect you. You’re a special forensic consultant. You’ll have your 5 minutes in the lab. Show him your driver’s licence for identification. That’ll be sufficient. Good luck.

  Twenty minutes. She put her foot down and drove up to the speed limit.

  Amanda stopped in the car park and gathered herself. She got out of the car, and walked, with all the confidence she could muster, towards the reception doors. The young constable spotted her through the glass and opened up.

  ‘Miss Cadabra?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, and showed him her ID.

  ‘This way.’

  He led her down the corridor, through the waiting room, and into the office. ‘You have five minutes. I’ll be in reception.’

  ‘Thank you, Constable.’

  Amanda heard the first then second double doors clung shut. She turned to the place where she’d last seen the ghost.

  ‘George? Georgie? … I’ve seen Violet.’

  George materialised. ‘Is she all right,’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘She’s coming here tonight.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Only not into this room. She’ll meet you in the bar. Can you be in the bar tonight? You said you had some things to tell me, about what happened in here.’

  ‘That’s right. It was the same person.’

  ‘The same man?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  Ah, thought Amanda, now at least I have a gender for the killer.

  ‘You saw him at Salisbury Hall?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. I didn’t see you there.’

  ‘No. I wasn’t there. Why were you there, George?’

  ‘For the spruce. They wanted to consult me about using Canadian Spruce for a particular bit. My dad’s Canadian. The family have worked with wood for generations,’ he said proudly. ‘My dad taught me all about it. We went there once for a visit, all the way to Canada. After the war, I reckon I’m gonna marry my girl, and we’ll go out there to live …. There won’t be much left of this country when it’s all over, you know. I want us to start fresh, me and my girl, my Violet.’

  ‘So they consulted you about Canadian spruce? And you went to the Hall for that?’

  ‘Yes, and they said I had just confirmed what they thought, but it was good to get a second opinion.’

  ‘Of course. And this man — the man who stole the plans — you saw him there?’

  ‘That’s right. He was a consultant too of some sort … but he disappeared … he was acting funny … he was staying at The Apple Cart here upstairs in one of the rooms, and that was funny too, see? Violet said it. She said it was funny … anyway, she can tell you herself tonight when she comes. I can point him out to you.’

  ‘Yes, please, do, George. But you said he disappeared.’

  ‘Yeah, I see him come into the pub and disappear. Only I think he goes down to the cellar. Nothing odd about that once in a while, ’cos they all got trunks down there for the people who stay above the pub for a while, like boarders. Only why go down there all the time? Mostly it’s only extra winter clothes they put in them trunks, and it's not that cold now, so I say, what’s going on? … but I
’ll tell you tonight.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Seven o’clock.’

  ‘Seven o’clock in the bar. But what happened here?’ asked Amanda. ‘The man lying on the floor, all the mess in here?’

  ‘It was terrible. The noise.’

  ‘The man, did he do something to the big machine?’

  ‘That’s right. It was the same man,’ said George. ‘Maybe he wanted to blow up the pub.’

  ‘Was he alone in here?’

  ‘He was with the sleeping man.’

  Toby lying dead, Amanda guessed. She prompted, ’The man did something to the machine, and then he left?’

  ‘Yes, but he’ll be back. You’ll see, tonight at seven.’

  ‘OK,’ Amanda had barely time to say before George vanished.

  She breathed. It was a lot to take in. She looked around. There was nothing else to see here. Amanda went back to reception.

  ‘Thank you, Constable. I’m going to make some notes, and then I’ll be inspecting the area outside later. I may bring an assistant.’

  ‘Very good, ma’am.’

  The policeman let Amanda out into the dusk.

  Chapter 42

  Dressing Up

  It was one thing to parade around in the 16th-century woods, as she had done recently, in 21st-century jeans and jacket, and then walk through the village under the aegis of the local aristocracy. It was quite another matter to wander into a far more egalitarian, 1940s, very local pub, arrayed in trainers and other noticeably modern gear.

  No. Amanda would have to get into costume. But what? And more importantly, how?

  ‘Tempest!’ Amanda uttered. ‘We need Lauren and we need Ingrid.’

  Her cat graciously removed himself from her nice warm laptop and gave place to her rapidly tapping fingers. They soon conjured a selection of YouTube clips of Lauren Bacall and Ingrid Bergman, in a range of films noirs from the Second World War years.

  ‘Granny?’ called Amanda. Senara obligingly became present.

  ‘Help yourself, dear.’

  ‘Would you like to help me?’