Seth wondered just how much trouble he was in.
10. Not the Best Weather for Cats
‘ I was hunting for dead birds before the storm hit. Happened to see some cat had got itself stuck halfway up a cliff. Not the best weather for cats,’ Pewter said, rainwater dripping off his nose and clothes and gathering in a puddle around his very wet shoes.
‘Then the stupid cat refused to move and fought me. So we’ve been sheltering under a not very large rock until she finally agreed we’d get less wet making a run for it. I could really do with a cup of tea.’ His hand was badly scratched. ‘And maybe a towel.’
There was a clap of thunder so fierce the whole lighthouse shook again. Even down in the basement where they were away from the worst of it, it felt as if the sky itself was breaking.
‘Thanks for rescuing Nightshade, Inspector. Sorry she put you to so much trouble. She must have been terrified.’ Seth handed a large mug of strong tea to Pewter along with all the towels he could find. ‘Sorry she’s always so ungrateful and grumpy but I had no idea she was still outside. I assumed she was tucked up somewhere.’ And before the inspector could even begin grumbling about Seth being here and bringing Nightshade with him, Seth pressed on. ‘Something happened while you were outside rescuing Nightshade. It’s Miss Mintencress. She’s dead, Inspector.’
Pewter took the news more calmly than Seth had expected and continued to wring out his hair and remove his sodden shoes. Seth began to fill him in on what he knew – and how now there had been a suspicious death.
The inspector gave the occasional nod, and twice asked Seth to clarify a detail, but Seth felt he had hardly got started, when Rendleton, his grim chore complete, arrived in search of tea. Pewter’s head was encased in a white towel and he was rubbing vigorously at his hair. He freed a hand, rummaged in an inside pocket of his suit and passed a business card to Rendleton.
Seth had seen the small white card once before. Words were arranged in a circle in the middle, as if they’d been stamped on.
MagiCon – all your magical crimes SOLVED*
*usually.
‘Inspector Pewter, MagiCon. You’ll have heard of us of course. We used to have this slogan “we make crime disappear” – you’ve heard of that, I’m sure? It was quite famous at one time.’ Pewter’s head emerged from the white towel like a chick hatching from an egg. ‘I have been told of your most unfortunate news and have consequently put myself in charge.’
Rendleton looked at Pewter through narrowed eyes. ‘MagiCon? Sounds seriously dodgy – what are you? Not official police? I thought you were the guy we called in to fix the electrics – what were you doing here in the first place? Seems a bit suspicious, mate.’
Pewter snaked a hand out from under a fluffy tea towel to take the card back. ‘Let’s just say you are in the unfortunate situation of having a dead body on your hands and no regular police available,’ he said smoothly. ‘In the circumstances, I think you will find you are lucky to have me in charge. I suggest you inform Mr Brockler and Miss Sunrise.’
Rendleton scowled. ‘What on earth is magical crime anyway? Someone’s been listening to the builders’ scare stories about ghosts. All right, guess you’re all we’ve got. MagiCon!’ he scoffed, swinging out of the room.
All Seth could think of was to keep busy; they may as well take lunch through to the dining room. He went through and began placing plates on the glossy table. The room was painted a dark blood-red. The curtains were a heavy crimson, filigreed with delicate gold trim, and framed the storm that was still raging outside. A fancy antique clock on a polished side-board joyfully chimed the hour in defiance of the thunder crashing overhead, ringing three times in unison with flashes of brilliant white.
Seth drew the heavy curtains against the grand force of nature raging outside, glad they were heavy enough to slightly muffle the wild sound as the residents began to assemble. Seth brought cake and a glass of milk for Alfie, who was sitting motionless, white-faced and silent; a deeply different boy to the one with the catapult and the cackle that Seth had first encountered.
Brockler also stared at nothing, adding several sugars to his tea. Lark took a slice of fruit cake and crumbled it in her fingers. Rendleton hovered solicitously and Pewter took a seat at one of the dozen mahogany chairs around the table, but seemed totally absorbed by his own thoughts.
Lark was the first to speak. She left the food and went to the window, pulling back the curtain. ‘We can’t get out, can we? We’re trapped here. The place just gives me the creeps.’
‘A boat will get through tomorrow,’ reassured Rendleton gently.
The shock seemed to have almost sent everyone into a coma. Seth had expected Pewter to rush about, to visit the scene of the crime. Was it a crime, or just a terrible accident? Either way, the inspector was the only one eating. He started offering sandwiches and fruit cake and more tea to everyone, and gradually most of them accepted.
Seth hovered. He really needed to talk to Pewter. Had someone cleverly engineered Mina Mintencress’s death? Was it possible that her lawyer, her best friend, or even the hotel manager was somehow responsible? And had Pewter really been brought in to investigate the supposed ghosts?
Seth felt pretty sure no one outside the lighthouse could have got here during the storm. If someone was responsible, it had to be someone here – one of the people closest to Mina Mintencress, the ambitious heiress with the crazy plan that had brought this party to this unlucky lighthouse. But which of them?
He looked at Brockler, trying to read if there was anything deeper in his troubled face. And what about Lark? She just looked blank, her dark-rimmed eyes telling nothing. Celeste had said those two were plotting – plotting what exactly? And what about Rendleton? Why had he come on board to this mad project at all? Pewter sipped a cup of tea and Seth waited outside the door, wishing the inspector would come out of the dining room.
‘They’re not saying much.’ Celeste’s voice whispering at his elbow nearly made him leap out of his skin. ‘What are they doing? She’s dead and they’re all having a tea party.’
‘It’s not quite like that, Celeste. They’re all just shocked, I think.’
‘How is Alfie?’
Alfie had drunk his milk and they watched Lark cut him another slice of cake and bend low to say something quietly to him, her arm comfortingly slipping around him as he wiped his eyes.
‘Celeste, what did you mean when you said Brockler and Lark were plotting against Mina?’
‘Mina didn’t know exactly. But she guessed something was up.’
‘She suspected someone was going to kill her?’
‘No!’ Celeste shook her head vehemently. ‘It was the ghost. She was beginning to wonder that maybe there was something behind all the hauntings. Or someone.’
Had that bathroom door really been locked? Was there another way in? What might he have missed? Seth saw he had a chance to take another look.
‘Would you mind going and making some more tea, Celeste? And, er, call up the stairs if someone leaves the dining room.’ He already had his foot on the first stair.
‘What are you going to do?’ said Celeste, following him. ‘You’re up to something, aren’t you? If you’re going to poke around and investigate, then I’m coming too.’
But they didn’t get very far. This time when the lightning flashed, the thunder sounded not just like a collision in the sky, but like an explosion, as if the storm had come right inside the lighthouse.
‘We’ve been hit!’ roared Rendleton as he dashed out of the dining room and raced past them up the stairs.
11. Blundering About in the Dark
There were cries, a thud. Seth was aware of people blundering silently in the darkness. This time there was no welcome return of the lights.
Seth fumbled his way back to where he knew he’d left the candles in the kitchen.
He bumped into Inspector Pewter cradling a ball of magical light in his hand and heading for the cellar steps.
‘Electrics,’ he said as he passed Seth.
‘Er – you do know there’s a dead body down there?’ Seth said. ‘It’s where they put Miss Mintencress.’
Pewter looked startled just for a moment, then nodded. ‘Thanks for the warning, Seth.’
Once he had a handful of candles and some matches, Seth remembered the tiny torch he carried in his tunic. He dug it out and moved much more quickly with the aid of its little beam, following everyone to the room at the top of the lighthouse. A chunk of the wall up by the ceiling was completely missing, exposing a direct view of the broiling sky. Rain was pouring through, running down the beautiful wallpaper of seabirds and pooling on the polished floor.
Brockler, Lark and Alfie watched on helplessly.
No one seemed to be doing anything, so Seth sprang into action, urging the others to help move the heavy bed to one side and away from where the rainwater could reach.
‘Well, at least the windows didn’t shatter,’ he said, trying his best to keep everyone’s spirits up.
But Brockler just slumped on to the bed. Alfie started splashing in the rainwater, which at least was better than seeing him so silent and unmoving during lunch
‘We need a mop and a bucket,’ said Seth. Nobody moved. ‘Where’s Rendleton?’ he asked with a sigh, lighting candles.
‘Gone to the Sunrise Wing to get building supplies,’ said Lark, biting her nails.
Seth handed Alfie the torch. ‘You take charge of this.’
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Alfie, looking up at him. ‘Are you leaving?’
‘No, I’m going to help Rendleton and seal up that hole. Lark, I think it might be a good idea to fetch more candles when you get a bucket and mop. Can you try to mop up the water before it does too much damage?’
‘I’ll help you, Lark,’ said Alfie, his small voice sounding eager.
Brockler still didn’t move.
‘Great!’ Lark said as cheerfully as she could. ‘Took me three days to decide on that wallpaper and it’s all ruined. And I argued with Mina for three weeks over that flooring; let’s see if we can save it. Come on, Alfie.’ She held out her hand. ‘Let’s you and me get to work and clear this up.’
Seth raced all the way back down the stairs, but when he reached the door that led to the Sunrise Wing, he paused. Until now the door had always been closed and locked. Now, with just the flickering from the candles in the kitchen, the open doorway looked as dark and about as uninviting as a cave where you knew a bear lived.
No matter how much he told himself he didn’t believe in ghosts, he had to clench and unclench his fists, trying to find courage to step through into the darkness. He cupped his hand around the candle flame and went through into a long corridor, where he could make out little except shadows dancing. He felt his heart hammering.
Then a gigantic shape loomed out of one of the side rooms, shuffling slowly but relentlessly towards him and gave a long, low wail.
‘W-w-what the—?! Seth! You terrified the life out of me.’ It was Rendleton, clutching a vast piece of board. ‘For a moment there I thought you were— Never mind, thanks for coming to help.’
He passed Seth a hammer and nails and they manoeuvred the board with great difficulty all the way up the spiral stairs, and then somehow managed to successfully nail it across the hole in the wall so the rain no longer flooded in.
The lights flickered back on and there was a small cheer from Brockler and Lark.
‘Perhaps that Pewter isn’t half bad at those electrics after all. Next, I guess we could all really use another cup of tea,’ said Rendleton, heading for the door.
Seth wiped his brow. His clothes and shoes were wet. ‘I’ll do tea.’
‘Aren’t you going to help mop?’ asked Lark.
‘When you and Brockler are doing such a grand job there?’ grinned Rendleton. ‘I need to make an urgent check there’s no rain coming in any of the other rooms. Alfie, come and help me please?’
‘Good idea, Alfie. You’re in charge of spotting any more damage,’ nodded Lark. ‘But first, you should go and change,’ she added, prodding him with the handle of her broom. ‘I think your clothes did a better job of soaking up the water than the mop.’
Back in the kitchen, Celeste’s small voice crept up behind Seth as he put on the kettle.
‘Is everything all right? Is everyone all right?’
She had found herself a pair of dark glasses to disguise the fact she’d been crying, and her white cap was pulled right down.
Seth nodded. ‘The top floor took a direct hit. Rendleton’s boarded it up and he and Alfie are checking the rooms on the other floors. So it’s not so bad. It might even have helped take Alfie’s mind off other things for a bit.’ The thunder still rumbled and once more the lighthouse shook. ‘The worst of it was that some water came in, but Brockler and Lark are sorting that out.’
Celeste nodded, and then cried out: ‘Hang on – you mean Lark and Brockler are actually working? Getting their hands dirty?’
‘With a mop and bucket. Yes.’
She looked as if she might start to laugh, then she frowned. ‘Leave the tea, Seth. Come on. This I have to see. Plus, you had the right idea before; Mina was suspicious they were plotting against her, so let’s be sneaky and find out what they are saying.’
12. Give Up This Insane Plan
Seth allowed himself to be dragged on the long trek all the way back up the spiral stairs and hovered while Celeste put her eye to where the door was slightly open on the top floor so she could watch without them seeing her.
‘I can hear them!’ she said in an excited whisper. ‘And they really are doing something.’
Seth could quite clearly hear Brockler and Lark talking as they sloshed water into a bucket. But it quickly rose to an argument.
‘If there was any chance of getting off this rock tonight I’d be gone already,’ sobbed Lark’s voice.
Brockler replied to another roll of thunder, but one that had lost its savagery. ‘We’ve been pretty lucky. The storm is passing. There was one so bad eight years ago a whole chunk of coast fell into the sea and cut off Snakesmouth. I’m sure whatever damage has been done can be fixed. You’ll be able to leave in the morning.’
‘You make it sound like you’re staying! You hate this place and this whole idea as much as I do.’
Brockler didn’t reply. Celeste had the best view of the room, but Seth could see enough. Lark had rested her mop and was closing in on the lawyer.
‘What are you up to?’ she demanded.
‘I’m not up to anything. I only wanted her to be happy. Now, I have no choice but to take charge. You don’t need to be involved any more.’
‘Happy? Huh! The only thing you were ever worried about was her wasting her inheritance on this place. It’s not your money. Why would you hang around? And why are you so keen to get rid of me?’
‘And I suppose you’ve stayed here on this isolated rock out of the goodness of your caring heart.’
‘I stood by her. She was convinced this whole project was going to work. I just wish we’d been brave enough to stand up to her sooner, persuade her to give it all up. Because this place killed her. And you – I wish you hadn’t terrified the builders into leaving with your stories of ghosts. We could have made it work, but we can’t do anything without Mina.’
‘ My stories?’ Brockler sounded incredulous. ‘I did not make up ghost stories. It was you who really hated this place. Mina always thought it was you who moved that ladder when that builder broke his ankle. You certainly tried your best to make sure she gave it all up.’
‘I only ever helped her!’ cried Lark.
Celeste muttered in Seth’s ear, rubbing her chin. ‘Mina thought Lark and Brockler had started plotting together. Or possibly Rendleton. It was the reason I . . .’ She trailed off.
‘Well,’ whispered Seth back, ‘it doesn’t sound quite like Lark and Brockler were plotting together.’ They peered through the gap as th
e argument continued.
‘You’ve really managed to ruin everything! Pleased with yourself ?’ Lark said to Brockler challengingly.
‘Traitors,’ muttered Celeste. She was breathing deeply and Seth was sure she was fighting an urge to burst in there and give them a piece of her mind.
There was a silence for a short while, with just the sound of water being sloshed into a bucket.
‘Ruin everything?’ came Brockler’s posh tones again. ‘Hardly. It’s only the Sunrise Wing left to finish. This was Mina’s dream, Lark. I feel it would be wrong to abandon it now.’
Celeste turned to Seth and gave him the thumbs up. ‘Well, good for Brockler,’ she said grudgingly.
‘Finish the Sunrise Wing?’ screeched Lark. ‘You seriously still want to carry on with this? You are now actually thinking of running a hotel? Getting guests out to the middle of nowhere? You?’
‘Maybe we should give it a shot. Don’t we owe it to her, Lark?’
‘I don’t believe what I’m hearing. Yesterday you hated this place. Now she’s met with this tragic accident and you, like, suddenly want to stay? I’ll ask you again – what are you up to, Brockler?’ said Lark slowly.
‘I’m just—’
‘Do you know, I think I can guess. You think that if all her money now goes to Alfie, he’s young enough that you’ll get control of it. Well, I am not going to let that happen.’
‘Don’t think I can’t see how you’ve started to look after that boy,’ Brockler replied with a low chuckle. ‘Easy to step in, as Mina was far more similar to her parents than she liked to admit – much more excited by chasing a business opportunity than looking after children. You’ve been clever.’
‘Just be warned, Brockler – you might find some surprises in her will. Yes, she made a new one without involving you. She didn’t trust you. And I know she’s left me enough money so that if anything happened to her, I’d be able to make my own life. She told me. Alfie does not get everything.’
‘Well, that is so very fascinating,’ said Brockler, his voice laced with icy menace. ‘Thank you so much for telling me you had such a very strong reason to want her dead. So much for always having her best interests at heart. I’ll be sure to pass that very fascinating detail on to Inspector Pewter.’
The Bad Luck Lighthouse Page 5