Silent as the Grave (8 page)

She sat on the bed. ‘I came to see if you're OK,' she said quietly.

‘I will be when I get cleaned up. At the moment I feel like Lady Macbeth. How are things downstairs?'

‘All the others are in the sitting room at Tony's order. They're staring at each other as if the person next to them is Jack the Ripper.'

‘Hardly surprising, I suppose. I can't say I feel too much sympathy for them.'

I turned to the washbasin and took the soap from the dish and began washing the blood from my hands. I went to replace the soap on its shell-shaped receptacle and stopped. I peered at it closely. ‘That's odd,' I said, half to myself.

‘What's odd?' Eve asked.

‘Here, on the soap, what do you think that is?'

Eve hobbled across and stood looking over my shoulder. She was wearing a gently musky scent that I found mildly disturbing. She looked at the bar of soap I was holding, ‘Those bits, you mean? What do you think they are?'

‘They feel like grit to me,' I said, having rubbed one of them between my fingers. ‘That's strange; I wonder how they got there?'

‘Have you been handling stone at all?'

‘No, you were with me until we went out to photograph and move the body. That's just what we did; which to my mind seems to indicate that the grit was mixed with the blood. That's the only way I can think that it could have got onto my hands.'

‘What you're saying is that whoever murdered Beaumont hit him over the head with a stone?'

Eve was still standing close to me. I picked up the towel and began drying my hands. ‘You've got blood all the way up the sleeve of your sweater.' She took my hand and was pointing to it when the door opened. I suppose to anyone looking from a few yards away it must indeed have looked as if we were holding hands.

‘I came to see if you were all right,' Polly said. ‘But I see you have company,' – her lip curled – ‘of a sort. I didn't realize your preference was for jailbirds.'

I winced as the door slammed into the frame. Fortunately, both were of solid oak otherwise I reckon they'd have splintered into matchwood under the force of Polly's ill-tempered departure.

‘Oh dear, I think I've spoiled her little scheme,' Eve said.

I looked at her in mild surprise. The Eve I'd met yesterday would have been raging with fury by now. ‘Does that upset you?' I asked.

‘Not in the slightest,' she replied. ‘More to the point, has it upset your plans?'

‘Certainly not, contrary to popular belief round here.' Eve grinned as I continued, ‘I have absolutely no plans. Not for Polly or anyone else. What was the jailbird crack about?'

We were suddenly both aware that we were, to all intents and purposes, still holding hands. Eve didn't seem in any hurry to let go and I wasn't either. ‘That woman should have a Government Health Warning tattooed on her forehead,' Eve said, ‘that or a skull and crossbones.'

‘What is it between you two?' I asked. ‘She hasn't a good word to say about you and she certainly isn't at the top of your popularity poll.'

‘I think she detests me because I've been moderately successful in life,' Eve said thoughtfully. ‘I think she believes I did it on the back of father's money but that isn't true. Everything I have is down to what I've earned. I resent her influence over Harriet. I don't think it's a healthy one and I dislike the way she uses people, men in particular; then casts them aside when she's had what she wants from them.'

I released her hand and turned to take my bloodstained sweater off. ‘There, and I thought you were fighting over me,' I joked.

Eve's reply was so quiet I didn't hear it, but I was looking into the mirror and I've always been a fairly good lip reader. Maybe I got it wrong. The mirror was a little distorted but as far as I could tell Eve had said, ‘Maybe that's true also.' Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on my part. It was only later that I realized Eve hadn't answered my question about Polly's jailbird statement.

Tony was waiting for us at the foot of the staircase when we reached the ground floor. To all intents and purposes we must have looked like an old married couple as we came down the flight of shallow steps. The handrail was on the wrong side to be of any use to Eve, so I offered her my arm for support; which she was glad to accept.

‘Adam, I want a word in my study; Eve can wait in the sitting room with the others,' Tony said tersely even before we'd finished our descent.

I let him go a couple of paces before I spoke. ‘You'll have to wait a while,' I told him.

Whether it was my tone or the fact that I'd contradicted him that pulled him up I wasn't sure. He turned and for the first time I saw a tinge of anger in his cheeks. ‘We need to start work as the police have asked,' he told me shortly.

‘Yes, I accept that; but Beaumont's dead. A few minutes here and there isn't going to make any difference to him. In the meantime if you want me to try and find out what happened to him and if you're serious about me investigating this curse business; we'll do it my way, thank you. The first thing I'm going to do is find a suitable walking stick for Eve to use. She insists on walking about when she should be resting, so at least we can get her a bit of help. Secondly, I want to know how young Charlie is after his ordeal. Then, when we do start taking statements, I want Eve in the study taking notes. She and I are the only ones who do shorthand.'

I'm not sure if anyone had ever spoken to Tony that way before. I wanted to get the ground rules straight before we started. I also wanted to see if his annoyance would flare into anger.

Tony smiled. ‘Sorry,' he said mildly. ‘I was getting above myself. The whole mess has got to me a bit, I'm afraid. You see to Eve, then come along and we'll make a start, shall we? Doing it your way,' he added.

I was pleased that my opinion of Tony had been so rapidly endorsed.

‘You were a bit hard on him, weren't you?' Eve asked as I helped her choose a walking stick of the right length.

‘I want to run this my way; that was one reason. I also wanted to test a theory.'

‘What, another theory?' Eve arched her eyebrows in ironic mock surprise.

‘Yes, believe it or not I have more than one. I just wanted to see how Tony reacted to having his orders countermanded so abruptly.'

‘And the theory?'

‘If there is truth in the Rowe family madness legend, then Tony isn't affected by it; he's as sane as you or I.'

Having been put to rights over procedure, Tony was keen to show his compliance. When Eve and I returned to his study he had drawn three more chairs up around his desk. Two of them placed alongside his own and the third on the opposite side facing the others. Tony indicated his own seat. ‘You sit there, Eve, it will be more comfortable for you to take notes there. Adam and I can sit on either side of you and ask the questions.'

‘That sounds fine by me,' I agreed, noting that Tony had even supplied Eve with a shorthand notebook and pencil during our brief absence.

We interviewed each guest in turn; then all the household staff. I was forced to point out to three of the witnesses that their statements would be handed to the police and asked them to reconsider the omissions in their account of their activities. The witnesses were the only ones to be embarrassed by this as Tony, Eve, and I already knew the information they had left out. Neither Lady Charlotte, Harriet, nor Polly Jardine had thought it prudent to mention visiting my room the previous night.

By the time Rathbone, the last to account for his movements, had departed, we were no nearer discovering the identity of Beaumont's killer than we had been when we started. Tony commented on this fact as he watched his butler leave the study, ‘Well I don't see that's done us any good at all,' he said.

‘Not directly, I agree. However, if we come across any inconsistencies later, these statements will prove a valuable reference point.'

‘What's next, Adam?' Eve asked.

‘First of all Tony ought to ring DC Pratt and tell him what we've achieved. Then I think we ought to have another look at Beaumont's room. It just might give us some clue as to what he was up to going out in that blizzard last night. I'm still puzzled as to why he went all the way to the chapel to meet someone when they could have met just as secretly nearer to hand; unless there was a particular reason for the meeting place being at the chapel.'

‘What reason could there be for that?' Tony asked.

I was aware that Eve was looking at me as I replied that I had no idea. I was also aware that she thought I was telling less than the truth.

Chapter Eight

Our inspection of the dead man's room and personal effects had an oddly disturbing effect. ‘I feel rather like a grave robber,' Eve confessed as she was checking the drawers in Beaumont's bedside cabinet.

‘I know what you mean,' – Tony turned from the wardrobe where he had been going through Beaumont's clothing – ‘it's all a bit distasteful.'

I looked up from the papers I was studying; documents I'd taken from the dead man's briefcase, ‘Think of yourselves as detectives,' I advised them. ‘This is a job they have to do on a regular basis.'

I returned to my perusal of the paperwork. For the most part the documents referred to business meetings, contracts, and tenders which seemed to have no relevance to Beaumont's murder. In the last pocket of the briefcase however, I came across one document that had me staring at the intricate wording with a mixture of alarm and uncertainty. I placed this carefully back where I had got it from; then shovelled all the other papers into the main body of the case. I closed the lid and snapped the locks. ‘I think we've done about all we can for tonight,' I told the others. ‘I'm worn out. I think what I should do is take Beaumont's briefcase to my room and look at the contents in the morning when I feel fresher. Tony, will you ring Pratt and update him with the current situation, please?'

Tony looked more than a little relieved at the thought of getting out of the room. ‘No problem, Adam. I don't wonder you're tired, I'm only sorry it's been such a lousy Christmas Day for you. That wasn't the intention when we asked you here. As for that,' – he pointed to the briefcase – ‘like you said earlier, there's nothing we can do for Beaumont tonight that won't wait until tomorrow.'

‘I agree, Tony,' Eve said with a suspiciously innocent expression. ‘We ought to let Adam catch up on his sleep if he can. After all, he didn't get much last night. Let him take these to his room and hope he doesn't get interrupted.'

I looked at her closely then said, ‘OK, I'm off. Don't forget to lock up, Tony.'

After reaching my room I placed the briefcase on the dressing table, walked across to the window, and sat in one of the armchairs to wait for my visitor to arrive. Five minutes passed before the door opened. ‘Don't you ever knock?' I complained.

‘I would have done, but I knew you were expecting me,' Eve replied.

‘How did you work that out?'

‘You might have fooled my brother-in-law with your tiredness act, but you didn't fool me for a second. You knew that; and knew I'd be coming to ask you about your theory as to why Beaumont went to the chapel,' she paused, ‘and to have a look at whatever it was you found so interesting in his briefcase.'

‘It appears I didn't fool you,' I agreed. ‘I don't suppose you brought a corkscrew with you?'

‘A corkscrew? Why would you want a corkscrew?' she enquired, innocently.

‘I thought we could open that red wine you gave me – no doubt filched from Tony's wine cellar. After that we could experiment with the mistletoe if you like.'

Eve went pink in the face. ‘What makes you think it was me?' she asked weakly.

‘Given the events of yesterday evening, I opted for the least likely candidate. Also, remembering one part of what passed between us, I thought the mistletoe might mean you were keen to repeat the experiment.'

‘That was a joke.' Her colour deepened even more.

‘That's a shame. In that case, will you settle for a glass of wine?'

‘You said you needed a corkscrew.'

‘I've just remembered I've got a Swiss army knife with a corkscrew on it.' I produced the tool and removed the cork. There were two tumblers on the dressing table I filled each and passed one to Eve.

She looked at it, her eyebrows raised. ‘That's a hefty measure.'

‘I thought it would get you in the mood for the mistletoe. Now what was it you wanted to ask me?'

She eyed me suspiciously, and I guessed she wasn't certain whether I was joking or not. ‘You know why Beaumont went to the chapel, don't you?'

I smiled at the neat way she side-stepped the mistletoe issue. ‘Not for certain, it's just an idea that came to me when we were talking it over.'

‘Go on then, share it with me,' she demanded.

I began with, ‘If you leave out the thought that Beaumont was deeply religious,' which caused Eve to laugh, ‘the only reason I can think of for choosing such an inconvenient meeting place was because of either the chapel itself, or something inside it.'

Eve thought this over for a moment. ‘You mean somebody had put something in the chapel for Beaumont?'

‘That's one possibility,' I conceded. ‘Alternatively, it might have been there all along; I don't know. One way or the other, I think we should have another look round the chapel.'

‘OK, I see the logic in that. I certainly can't think of another reason for traipsing all that way in a snowstorm. So what was it you found so interesting in Beaumont's briefcase; something you didn't want to talk about?'

‘I don't mind talking to you about it, but I have to admit I found it more than a bit worrying.'

I walked over to the dressing table and took the document from the briefcase. I handed it to Eve and sat down to watch her read it. She scanned the paperwork twice before looking up. ‘You realize what this implies?'

I nodded. ‘Yes, I believe it's quite a common practice amongst business partners nowadays to take out life insurance on each other. However, when one of those partners has been murdered, the implication of a mutual policy that benefits the surviving partner to the tune of five million pounds from their death could be extremely sinister.'

‘You don't honestly think Tony murdered Beaumont for the insurance money?'

‘I don't think Tony's capable of murdering anyone. But on the face of it, five million pounds is a hell of a good motive,' I paused. ‘I'm just saying what a policeman might think; someone who doesn't know Tony. I reckon you're more capable of murdering someone than Tony is.'

‘Oh, so now you think I'm a murderer, do you?'

‘Not the way Beaumont was killed. I reckon you could kill a man, given strong enough provocation, but I think you'd want to look him in the eye when you did it.'

I said more than I intended, which might have been because of the red wine or maybe I was growing to like Eve.

Strangely she took my unguarded remark as a compliment, ‘Maybe you're right, and maybe you see more that you let on.'

I was still grappling with this cryptic remark when Eve suggested we look at the other documents. I took the briefcase from the dressing table and carried it across to the bed, upending it to tip all the contents onto the duvet. I sat on the edge of the bed and patted the quilt alongside me. After a moment, Eve hobbled across and sat down, and we commenced examining the papers. She stared intently at the wording of every page whilst I watched her reflection in the mirror of the dressing table. She was undoubtedly beautiful, very like Harriet but with that glorious mop of red-gold hair to enhance her lovely features. She looked up and saw me watching her. ‘Have you found anything?' I asked to cover my confusion.

‘Nothing that I know of; but a lot of it is beyond me. I think we need an expert.'

‘Well that counts me out.'

‘So what do you suggest we do now?'

‘Have another glass of wine, then go to bed,' I said it without thinking. I felt myself going red and hoped Eve hadn't noticed the unintentional double meaning. I should have known better.

‘It takes more than a couple of glasses of wine, buster. If you want an easy lay try the caterer.'

‘I'm sorry, you got me all wrong, I didn't mean we should go to bed together …' I stopped, because Eve was laughing at me.

‘Gotcha,' she said, triumphantly.

‘Oh very well, have your joke,' I told her, crossly.

‘I'd rather have my wine,' she smiled and held out her glass.

After we'd finished the wine I stood up and held my hand out to help her. After a moment's hesitation she took it and allowed me to lift her to her feet. She stood facing me, allowing her weight to rest on my arm as I helped her towards the door. I caught that musky perfume again. ‘How's the leg?' I asked.

‘Still a bit sore, but better than it was.'

She held on to me longer than I thought was absolutely necessary, then, almost as if she had made a decision, reached across and kissed me. ‘Who needs mistletoe?' she said; then closed the door behind her. A second later she opened it again. ‘I should lock this if I was you.'

I slept badly, and I suppose that was only to be expected after everything that had happened following my arrival at Mulgrave Castle. Such fitful sleep as I was able to manage was punctuated by a variety of strange dreams. Of these; one concerned the ancestors of the Rowe family whose tombs I'd seen in the chapel. The second concerned Eve and this was possibly the most horribly realistic of all. In it I was searching Mulgrave Castle for her but although I walked from floor to floor up seemingly endless staircases and along never-ending corridors calling her name, I was aware that my search was a vain one; that Eve was dead.

I knew Eve was there somewhere, I knew the others who had disappeared were there but I could not see them; could not hear them; could not touch them. I knew they were dead and with a shock I realized why I knew all this; why I was unable to contact them; for I was also dead.

I awoke suddenly and sat up. So real had been the dream that I was momentarily disoriented. Although the night had been cold and although at some point in my nightmare I had thrown the duvet from me I was sweating profusely. The terror the nightmare had inspired crept into my waking state and I was suddenly afraid that whatever happened, whatever the truth or not of the Rowe family curse; I might not leave Mulgrave Castle alive.

I glanced at my watch on the bedside table. It was only 6.30. I thought briefly about trying to go back to sleep but rejected the idea. Sleep had brought such dreadful visions that I was unwilling to risk a repetition of the ordeal. I opted to get up and see if a shower would help me. I crossed to the window and drew the curtains. I stared into the darkness at the stars and was pleased to find that overnight the snow had stopped.

I had just emerged from the shower room and was feeling decidedly better when I heard a knock at the door. I opened it. Eve was standing there. ‘Can I come in?' It was a bit late to refuse as she was past me before I had chance to reply. I turned round. Eve looked at me. ‘Oh,' she exclaimed, ‘I'm sorry, I didn't realize you weren't dressed.'

She didn't sound particularly sorry; she didn't stop looking either.

‘Eve!' I protested. ‘I was taking a shower,' I told her, clutching the bath sheet round my waist.

‘I'll wait until you're dressed, then.' She sat on the end of the bed.

I snatched the clothes I'd laid out from the chair and hurried through to the shower room to dress. ‘What was it you wanted?' I called through the open door.

‘I've had an idea about that paperwork.'

‘What is it?'

‘I have a friend who works in the City. He'd know if those papers were significant. I could read them to him over the phone. It might take a day or two before we can get hold of him as it's the holidays but it could be worth a try.'

‘I agree, why not give it a shot?'

I finished dressing and came back into the room. I sat next to Eve on the bed. ‘There, decent again,' I said with a measure of relief.

She had a mischievous smile on her face that unnerved me slightly. ‘Yes, Adam,' she agreed, ‘there's just one thing,' she pointed towards the open door of the shower room.

I followed the line of her finger. To my horror the full-length mirror on the wall that had been steamed up earlier was now clear. It reflected the spot where I had stood to dress. ‘You're not supposed to look,' I told her severely. ‘It isn't ladylike.'

‘You're confused, Adam. It's my sister who's a Lady, not me.'

‘Oh, very droll,' I said grumpily.

She looked at me. ‘What's matter with you, didn't you sleep well? No lady of the manor to tuck you in, no chef to bring you a nightcap at the witching hour? An appropriate time for her to be abroad I reckon. Perhaps she couldn't find a parking space for her broomstick.'

‘Evie, behave.'

‘You really are an old grouch today, what's wrong?'

‘If you must know, I had a dreadful night. I didn't get much sleep and I had some awful dreams.' I told her about them. She patted my hand consolingly. ‘Well, they were only dreams, Adam. I'm alive, you're alive, and it's a lovely morning.' She pointed out of the window to where the sun was peeping over the horizon.

There was no doubt her presence cheered me. I looked at her and smiled. ‘Yes, thank goodness. And let's hope we can get through all this without anyone else getting hurt.'

I certainly wasn't going to tell her of the other dream I'd had during the night. It had been only a fleeting one and was the only pleasant one of the lot. It concerned Eve and me. No, I certainly wasn't going to mention that dream; not to Eve or anyone else.

‘What are your plans for this morning?' Eve asked. ‘I thought I would type up those statements on Tony's typewriter. That is unless you want me,' she paused before adding, ‘for anything else.'

She was teasing me unmercifully and enjoying every minute of it. I knew it and she was aware that I knew it. That seemed to add to her enjoyment.

‘If I told you what I really want you for you'd probably slap my face again, so, no I don't think so. I'm planning to have a talk with Lady Charlotte this morning. I really need to get to grips with this family curse business.'