Silver Guilt (16 page)

‘You mean I should get upset? Well, look where it's left him.' I took the other vocab book from him, weighing one in each hand. They were pretty well the same on the outside, though not on the inside, of course. Then I returned mine to the little cupboard, locking it and the bureau carefully, and stowing the keys and Lord Elham's book in my bag.

‘Did I see you do that?' he asked sternly.

‘Is that your official voice? This book means a great deal to me, and nothing at all to my father. And it might mean enough to Darrenarris for him to come looking for it, mightn't it? To ensure my father can't check up on him.' For some reason Arthur Habgood's face swam into my head. ‘Of course,' I continued, rather pleased with myself, ‘Lord Elham could always insist on a DNA test for him.'

‘You'd need, as I'm sure you know, Darren's permission.'

‘You're sure? I've read about getting hairs out of brushes, that sort of thing. Come on, I'm sure if a crime's being committed, you people don't worry about written permission and all that. Not always, anyway. And nicking things from a man you claim is your father and isn't would be a crime twice over, wouldn't it? Now, should we change the code on the security pad on the official door, or do you want to see the unofficial ways in first? We pretty well have to pass the official door. You'll have to do it – I've no idea how these things work. And we must remember to tell my father.'

‘Or not,' Morris muttered.

It took him a matter of seconds to change the code to the number I gave him – the year of my birth. When I explained, I couldn't read his sideways look.

‘And now for the first door.' I set off slowly.

‘What's the matter?' he asked, looking at me closely again. ‘You still don't really know whether to trust me, do you? I promise not to arrest you as an accessory before or after the fact. And I promise not to strangle you, steal all I can and flee the country.'

I managed a smile. Sort of. ‘You know pretty well everything about me. What you see is what you get. But you—'

‘I've told you before. Not all policemen are bent. You can phone my ex-partner and ask if you want.' He held up his mobile. Then he put it down again. ‘She's probably in the middle of a rehearsal at the moment. She plays the cello in the BBC Symphony Orchestra. We broke up because we never saw each other, what with my shifts and hers. Here's my home address.' He flipped me a business card. ‘And I'm sure Farfrae would be happy to talk to you again.'

I looked him in the eye. ‘Griff liked you. That should be enough, shouldn't it?'

‘I hope you like me.'

‘I'd rather rely on Griff.' I set off up the stairs into one of the bedrooms now used as a dump.

We stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by piles of newspapers. He gaped but pulled himself together. ‘So where's this here door?'

‘Beside the wardrobe. God knows what's in there. I've never looked.' I jangled the little keys temptingly.

‘Not this time. We've got work to do.'

‘OK. It's all yours.' I pointed. ‘It's pretending to be part of the wall.'

His face lit up as if someone had switched on a bulb. ‘It's one of those hidden doors! All those times I've been to a National Trust property and seen one of these and not been allowed to cross the red cord and open it – let alone go through. Why were they designed like this, Lina? With the same dado, and wallpaper and everything?'

‘So a great slab of magnolia paint doesn't spoil the decor? I should think that's the main reason. And maybe you want the servants to come and go without using the posh gilded doors and the state corridors. Especially if they're carrying chamber pots and things. One of these days I'll get round to researching them.'

Again he gave me a quick look, before he asked, ‘Which magic key fits?'

‘You don't need a key, I'm afraid. That's why it's a security risk. Just finger nails. You try. Hell,' I said, slapping my face, but only lightly, ‘I forgot to ask if you've got a torch.' I fished mine out of my bag's outer pocket.

‘There's one on my mobile. Do I gather a torch is a normal piece of feminine equipment?'

‘Yes, if you're an antiques dealer,' I said. ‘Now, turn left. We're heading for the main part of the house.' I counted the doors as we went, finally reaching one I'd marked. I pointed to a lipstick dot I'd put on the china handle. ‘This is the one. After you.'

We stepped into the west-facing bedroom, lit up by the setting sun.

‘It's not very grand, is it?' Morris said with a sigh.

‘Better than the one we've just left, though.'

‘What do the punters think, I wonder?'

‘It's not one they see.' I opened the official door and stepped through. ‘I don't remember their being allowed into this corridor, actually. I can't see any sensors or any cameras. Can you?'

He followed me, peering round. ‘No. So I could literally walk down into the main part of the house?'

‘Well, eventually the cameras would pick you up somewhere, of course. And I presume after your conversation with the administrator they're all working again.' I raised a finger. ‘It sounds as if they've got the climate controls back on again, too. Well done, Morris. Now, do you want to have a close look round here or would you like to see unauthorized access two?'

Since we couldn't lock the hidden door in Lord Elham's wing, Morris and I moved some piles of newspapers in front of it. It meant we now could reach the window, and the amount of dust we stirred up settled nicely on the carpet so it was hard to tell what we'd been up to.

‘Onwards and upwards, then,' I said. I had an idea I was quoting someone but had no idea who. ‘Up to the next floor. And another secretish door.'

‘Where?' he asked, after a few minutes' peering round.

‘In that cupboard.' I pointed. ‘Again, no key. Just twist the knob to your right.'

I followed him up a very steep flight of stairs, almost a ladder, really. Another door at the top opened into the attics, a series of barn-like spaces. The dormer windows along the back let in enough light for us to see it was full of yet more junk. Morris was like a dog let loose in a wood, not knowing which target to head for first.

‘There must be rich pickings for you here,' he said. ‘That card table alone—'

‘One of the drawers is missing. In any case, I'm not absolutely sure where Lord Elham's part ends and the trustees' begins.'

That earned me another look. ‘You really are incredibly moral, despite your genes, aren't you?'

I dug for a phrase I'd heard Griff use. ‘Is it nature or nurture? If it's nurture, I have Iris, my last foster mother, and Griff to thank. Anyway, you see that hatch there? Near the chimney stack? All you have to do is lift it up and drop down. You land on a bed. But that's one that the punters do get to see, so I presume there are cameras.'

Lifting the hatch, he laid it back carefully and dropped on his knees to peer through the hole. He flashed his torch round but then got to his feet. ‘There's no way of securing this?'

‘Not that I can see. Unless we could put something on top of it. Trouble is, our footprints will show up in this dust, whatever we do.'

‘Not if we leave enough of them. What about that chest of drawers? Could we shift that?'

‘We have to get the drawers out first. It'll weigh a ton.' I pulled out one of the smaller ones at the top. Thanks to the cabinet maker's skill it slid as easily as if someone had waxed the runners only yesterday. There was no treasure inside, though – just bed linen speckled with iron mould. The other drawers were full of the same. All we had to do was move the carcase over the hatch and slide the drawers back in.

It was getting so dark that even Morris realized there was no point in staying up much longer – there was only so much our torches could light up. But I had to promise to bring him back another day, as if I was a mother dragging a child from Toys R Us.

‘No bolts, no padlock,' he said, jabbing a finger on the door as we shut it behind us. ‘It wouldn't do the wood any good, but I think we should fit one.' He made a note. ‘Anything else I should see?'

‘We could cast our eyes over each room as we go down, to see if anything's obviously missing.'

‘Lead on.'

We established that several silver candelabra and a couple of pretty hideous silver-gilt epergnes had gone, plus a cardboard box or two I'd never got round to opening. Someone had torn open a box containing enormous buttons and shoe buckles but left them. I didn't.

‘They could have been made by Matthew Boulton,' I said. ‘And he's got a bicentenary or something coming up. Could keep my father in champagne for a bit.'

‘But not as valuable as the stuff you say has gone astray?'

‘Probably not. Seems as if Darrenarris is keen on silver, doesn't it?'

‘Him or someone who's nipped over from the other side. Probably using the official door – 1234 isn't a hard code for your average burglar to crack. We'd better notify the administrator we've changed it, by the way.'

I shook my head, releasing a cloud of dust. ‘Let them find out the hard way. Anyone from the house is supposed to come to my father's front door and ring, anyway. Now what? My goodness, we're filthy.'

‘We ought to make sure no one can get into the house via the attic. They'd be hard put to push down all the papers and get in from the service corridor. They can't use the official door. What about any other doors?'

‘There's one at the back, another to the kitchen. And plenty of rooms with grade one listed windows that have those discreet little bolts in the frames, but nothing else. Nice old glass – very brittle indeed. I've already found keys that will fit the doors to those rooms. We might just check they're still locked.'

We did. They were. Just in case it was Darrenarris who'd been on the prowl, I removed the keys and pocketed them.

‘How will you know which is which?'

‘They're all the same. The kitchen and back doors have different ones, but the locks could easily be picked.'

‘I don't want to know how you know that.'

‘No, you don't,' I said with a grin.

He fished out a notebook. ‘So we need modern mortise locks, some bolts, a new lock for the front door and a security chain. Where's the nearest B&Q or Homebase?'

My turn to look hard at him. ‘Why are you doing this, Morris? Why not tell Lord Elham to call a locksmith and skedaddle back to the Smoke?'

‘Because I know I can trust me to do it tonight. He might be an old bastard, Lina, but he's a frail old bastard. And once people get a taste for easy pickings, they get cross if they're thwarted. So I want to make sure whoever is behind the thefts is kept properly out.'

It sounded reasonable. ‘Bear with me a second – I want to see if he's got anything left in his freezer.'

He trailed after me to the kitchen, peering at the contents of the sink – again, pairs of glasses and plates.

‘Just as I thought. When I bring his supplies I know pretty well to the last frozen pea how long they'll provide for him. There's only a couple of things left. He'd have been back on Pot Noodles if I hadn't noticed.'

‘So what do I bring in? A lot of healthy option ready meals?' Again he jotted.

‘And some green tea bags. He likes those with a touch of jasmine best.'

‘Will he be expecting us to eat with him?'

‘Not if there's anything worth watching on the TV.'

‘OK. Shall we snatch a bite together after we've sorted everything out? It might be late, of course, by the time I've finished my handyman stuff.'

So did he want me to join him or not? Or was he after something else? I'd better say yes, then talk to Griff.

It must have been possible to give Griff enough information without thoroughly alarming him, but I couldn't manage it. I did my best when I phoned – I'd even worked out in my head what I needed to say before I dialled. It sounded good enough there.

‘Hi, Griff – Morris says a couple of locks here at Bossingham Hall could do with upgrading, so I'm staying to hold the fort while he goes and buys them.'

But it obviously wasn't good enough.

‘So you're alone with that old idiot while an able-bodied man goes swanning off to B&Q, eh?'

‘Yes. And then we might go and have a spot of supper together,' I said casually.

‘Indeed? And what about young Piers, whose ring you are no doubt still wearing?'

‘It's a friendship ring,' I said, with a theatrical sigh he'd have been proud of if he'd heaved it himself. ‘And more to the point Morris is a mate too. He must be forty if he's a day, Griff. Far too old for me.' I might as well get a little dig in. ‘And far too young for you, while we're about it!'

Griff took the bait. ‘Aye, me!' OK, my sigh was nothing to his.

‘And how's Aidan?'

‘He sends his regards. Not Nella's, of course, but you'd hardly want them anyway. We had a pleasant lunch, thank you.'

‘And did you have a trip to Waitrose?'

‘Of course. And I bought no end of lovely end-dated goodies. What heaven that shop is.' But I hadn't diverted him enough. ‘And what time can I expect you safely home, dear heart?' he demanded, in his extra-plaintive, I'm-a-very-doddery-old-man voice.

‘When you see me,' I retorted firmly. And then I had an idea. ‘Unless you've got enough goodies to knock up a meal for three? Something that won't spoil if we're late?' And – because it had taken me a long, long time to learn to say it – I added, ‘Love you!'

‘And you are the light of my life, my child.'

I wasn't sure if I could claim the same for my father, but at least I could make us a cup of green tea. I couldn't say I was at all keen on it, but neither Griff nor my father was grown up enough to drink it unless I did. We sipped in silence, apart from my father's boos at the weakest link.