by Helena Dixon
‘The lock sticks sometimes. Thank you for the tea.’ She took the tray and returned inside.
Chapter Twenty-One
Matt woke that morning to discover his sheets in a crumpled sweaty heap. He sat up and looked cautiously around the room. Apart from an overturned side table, nothing was smashed or destroyed. He heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn’t wanted to scare Kitty but when the night terrors came upon him, he couldn’t remember what happened during those hours. He would wake to find items destroyed, his feet cut and bleeding and parts of his body bruised or aching.
When he had first returned from the front at the end of the war, they had been worse. More violent and frequent. He would dream about Edith, baby Betty, and the Zeppelins, and wake screaming with rage and grief. Only a few people knew his secrets, about the dreams, the soul-sucking terror of being trapped in a small space and about what had happened to Edith.
He had remained in the army for several years after the end of the war, travelling around England and Europe working for the government. But he had been unable to settle in one place, the memories pursuing him like unwelcome ghosts, until he had finally been decommissioned a few months ago. He had accepted this job to please his parents, mainly his mother, who believed that time spent quietly by the sea might help him to settle. He hadn’t expected to be thrown into a confusing mystery of murders.
There was a light tapping at his door. ‘Matt? It’s Kitty, are you all right? Do you want me to slide the key under your door?’
‘Yes, thank you, everything is fine.’
He watched as the key appeared in his room, sliding along the polished boards to stop at the edge of the rug.
‘I’ll see you later, after breakfast.’
‘Okay.’ He wondered what she’d done with the ruby. At least Kitty had a cool head, and he appreciated how she had been seemingly unfazed by his request for help last night. Hopefully she’d locked it away in the secret safe in her grandmother’s suite. He wished she would agree to hand it over to the police, although he could sympathise with why she had held on to it.
Outside in the corridor he heard Mickey talking to someone and guessed it must be the carpenter come to fix Kitty’s door. He assumed that whoever had been sleeping in the tunnel hadn’t returned as no one had alerted him. If it was the person who had broken into Kitty’s room, then perhaps they had given up and decided to leave now there was a police presence. Much as he hoped that might be true though, he couldn’t quite see it.
After breakfast, he found Kitty hard at work finalising the plans for the masked ball.
‘Do you have a mask ready for the ball?’ she asked.
‘Mickey found me one out of the storerooms. He said there were some left in there from the New Year ball.’
‘Good. I’m hoping this goes well as it’s Vivien’s last performance here.’
‘Are she and Bobby leaving straight away?’
‘No, they are staying on for a couple of days to visit Torquay and to see some of the countryside before they head for Plymouth to board the ship. I rather wish I hadn’t agreed to that now with everything that’s happened.’ Kitty pushed the pile of paper she had been working on to one side and sighed. ‘I’m having trouble concentrating today. I still have a policeman in my kitchen annoying my chef, and the carpenter is working on my door.’
‘Come on then, take a break.’ He smiled at her.
‘What kind of break?’ Her tone held a note of suspicion.
‘I want to look at access to the tunnel from below the castle. Mickey said there used to be an entrance there.’
Kitty laughed. ‘There are probably quite a few entrances, the castle grounds used to be much larger than they are now. There are even rumours that there were tunnels in a secret crypt below the church. But I am not getting on a boat, it’s choppy today.’
‘You don’t have to; we can visit the tearooms at the castle and check it out from there.’ The tearooms had reopened after the war and enjoyed a brisk trade with day trippers.
‘True. I won’t say no to cake and tea. We can always talk to Pete, the castle caretaker, too, if he’s around. He lives in the castle so he would know if anything odd had been happening.’ Kitty collected her hat and handbag. ‘I haven’t been for tea at the castle for ages.’
The rain of the previous evening had left the day feeling fresh but sunny as they strolled along the embankment away from the town, past the old customs house towards the castle. The walk led uphill away from town around Warfleet Bay past the old lime kilns. The streets were narrow with steep alleyways climbing between the houses into the hills. There appeared to be plenty of other couples with the same idea as they walked to the small entrance leading into the tearoom.
Matt studied the tearoom with interest. It was larger than he’d expected, nestled as it was inside the sturdy ancient stone walls of the castle. The tearoom occupied the top floor of the turret with the entrance opening onto the upper level where the castle was built into the hillside. Dark oak tables were covered with lace-edged cloths. The walls were whitewashed and a few black and white framed photographs of views of the coast hung on the walls. Outside, there were a few tables positioned to take advantage of the view of the river. They took a seat at one of the smaller tables inside and gave their order to the young waitress, smart in her black dress and white cap and apron.
‘Is this what you were expecting?’ Kitty drew off her gloves and placed them neatly on top of her handbag.
Matt looked around. ‘I don’t know. I really want to take a look around to see if the tunnel might be visible from the far side of the castle.’
Kitty shrugged. ‘I expect not, it’s below water at high tide and well hidden. There are more tunnels near Kingswear Castle tower on the opposite side of the river. Lots of them are lost now or unusable. During the war everything was closed off.’
The waitress returned with their order and, as the girl made to move away, Kitty stopped her. ‘Do you know if Pete, the caretaker, is here today?’
‘I dunno, miss, I’ll ask for you. Is there a problem, miss?’ The girl looked worried.
‘No, no problem at all. I just need some information and I know he has a wealth of knowledge about the castle.’
A relieved smile lit the girl’s face. ‘I’ll go ask, miss.’
‘Pete lives in as caretaker. He’s a veteran like you. He helped man the defences here during the war. He knows my grandmother well.’
A few minutes later, an older man with a slight limp appeared at the table. ‘Miss Underhay, how can I help you? Is your grandmother well?’
‘Quite well, thank you, Pete. Captain Bryant here was enquiring about the tunnels that lead from the castle, I think they link with the one at the rear of the Dolphin.’
Matt noticed he was back to being Captain Bryant again. Pete scratched his head, pushing his cap slightly to the side as he did so. ‘They tunnels is mostly lost, miss. There is one that still works.’
‘The one from the sea?’ Matt asked.
‘Yes, sir, that one I think is still open. It did have a metal grid over it, but I think it may have been lost in a storm last spring.’
‘Do you know of any others?’ Matt asked.
Pete screwed his face up in thought. ‘There used to be some as opened up in the hills just outside the castle boundary, but I heard as the farmer had closed them in.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen or heard any boats lately, near where the tunnel opening would be, have you?’ Kitty asked.
‘Can’t say as I have, miss. Do you think someone is back smuggling again? Or spying?’ Pete’s gaze sharpened.
‘No. My grandmother has a door closing off the tunnel at our end, which she keeps locked and it looks as if someone has been trying to get inside.’ Kitty told a half-truth.
‘T’would probably be children messing about.’
‘I’m sure you’re right, Pete. I just wanted to check. If you do hear or see anything odd though, please send a message t
o Captain Bryant at the Dolphin.’
Pete nodded. ‘That I will, Miss Underhay.’ He shook hands with Kitty and Matt and left.
‘You realise he thinks I’m on some covert military detail?’ Matt eyed Kitty as she took a sip of tea.
‘No doubt, but Pete is a good, honest soul and a patriot.’
After finishing their tea, they strolled out onto the top of the castle to look over at the sea.
‘The tide is in so you can’t see the tunnel.’ Kitty shaded her eyes with her hand.
‘How old were you during the war, Kitty?’ Matt asked.
‘I was four when it started. My mother disappeared when I was six. You must have been young yourself?’
He was silent for a moment trying not to remember. ‘Not as young as you, but too young, fourteen almost fifteen.’
‘What happened, Matt? Who is Edith?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Kitty. I can’t talk about her, not here, not yet.’
She placed a gloved hand on his arm. ‘Come, we should get back to the hotel.’
The walk back to the hotel was silent. Matt was lost in his own thoughts and Kitty appeared content to allow him to be quiet.
The Dolphin’s wide half-timbered frontage dominated the street scene. The carved, wooden grey-painted dolphin sign creaked gently in the breeze from the river high above their heads. The glass in the diamond leaded panes twinkled in the sunshine.
Matt stole a peep at Kitty. He wondered if running the hotel would have been her choice had she been free to make it. Maybe Elowed had run away from her destiny after all, although he feared that Kitty and her grandmother’s instincts were correct and that Elowed was long dead. If Elowed had planned to get away, why leave the ruby behind, and her daughter?
‘Post, Miss Underhay.’ The girl at the reception desk passed a small bundle of letters to Kitty as she entered the lobby. He waited as she flicked through the pile, instinct telling him to stay close. He saw her frown at one particular envelope.
‘Kitty?’
She glanced at him ‘I think I should open this upstairs.’
He joined her as they hurried up the wide polished oak staircase to the first floor. Kitty unlocked the door to her grandmother’s suite and crossed to the bureau. She dropped the other letters down before pulling off her gloves and taking up a small gilded paperknife.
‘I don’t recognise the writing and it has been hand-delivered.’ She waved the envelope at him so he could see there was no stamp. She carefully slit the top of the envelope open and drew out the thin sheet of paper from inside.
Immediately he could see it was unlike the other anonymous one-line letters. This one had a full page of writing and what appeared to be a small photograph enclosed in its folds.
Kitty sank down onto the sofa, the photograph tumbling onto her lap as her eyes scanned the letter.
‘What is it?’ Matt asked.
‘It’s so strange. I don’t know what to say.’ Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she picked up the photograph from her lap. She blinked as she studied it and shook her head fiercely as if to clear her thoughts. She passed the picture to him.
‘My mother.’
He studied the photograph. It had clearly been taken some time ago and was battered and creased. Elowed appeared a similar age to Kitty now. It was a formal studio portrait with Elowed seated in front of what appeared to be a photographer’s backdrop of a classical Greek scene with columns. In her hands was a large bouquet of lilies. He flipped it over. On the back was written, ‘My beautiful bride on our wedding’.
‘The letter is from Edgar?’ He passed the photograph back to Kitty.
She nodded. ‘It would seem so. He enclosed the picture to prove himself genuine.’
Matt waited for her to continue. He longed to take the letter and read what Edgar Underhay had to say to the child he had abandoned, but he waited for Kitty to compose herself.
Kitty dabbed her eyes with a small lace-edged handkerchief before picking up the letter once more and reading it aloud to Matt.
‘My dear daughter, I hope I might still claim to call you this despite our long separation. I was deeply shocked when I learned only recently of the loss of your mother. I must ask you to believe me when I say I knew nothing of this, or the circumstances surrounding her disappearance. I had believed her to be safe with you at your grandmother’s hotel. I realise that you may find my correspondence unwelcome, especially after so much time has passed. I have only lately returned to England, having been in America for several years. I had reason to believe correspondence would have been unwelcome so, to my shame, I did not write to you.
‘I enclose a photograph of your mother to prove my authenticity. It is one which I have carried with me since our wedding. I understand that you may not wish to see me or hear from me, but I greatly fear that my coming to Dartmouth may have inadvertently placed you in some danger. This is why I have not yet come forward openly to meet you in person as I had first intended. Your mother had in her keeping something of mine of great value and I have been double-crossed by a person whom I trusted in my endeavours to regain it and to reconnect with you. My dear, I beg you to keep safe and to engage with someone who you can trust to protect you.
‘I do not know if you have discovered the jewel. If you have, then please ensure it is locked up safely and in secret. I hope to try to contact you in person to explain myself further, but I dare not place either you or, to be frank, myself, in any more danger.
‘If you do not wish to see or hear more from me then I will understand, but I cannot emphasise enough how serious the situation is in which I find myself, and in which I have inadvertently placed you. If you will agree to further communication, I ask you to place a vase of red roses in the window of your grandmother’s room visible from the street and I will contact you.
‘Please take care my dear child, I could not bear to think of you coming to any harm through some fault of mine.
‘Your father, Edgar Underhay.’
Kitty’s voice cracked as she read the last line. ‘What do I do now, Matt?’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matt paced about the room, thinking hard about the contents of Kitty’s letter.
‘Well that’s a turn up for the books, old girl.’ The phrase slipped out.
Kitty was busy rereading the missive once more. ‘I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do about this letter, or about the ruby.’ She dropped the letter and picked up the photograph once more.
‘You look very much like your mother,’ Matt remarked.
She touched the corner of the battered image with a tender fingertip.
‘I don’t know. What do you want to do, Kitty?’ He waited for her reply. He knew what they should do: hand everything over to Inspector Greville, including the blasted ruby, but it wasn’t his call to make. All he could do was try to keep Kitty safe.
‘If I give the letter and ruby to Inspector Greville, my father could well be in more danger. For that matter, so could I. The ruby is my first tangible link to my parents, and might be the key to my mother’s disappearance.’ Her tone was troubled.
‘Kitty, I know it is a difficult thing to think, but you must face facts. We don’t know who killed Mr Blaas, Cora or Hubert Farjeon. And I admit, I am worried about the interest this person has in you.’
She sighed and placed the letter and photograph on the bureau. ‘I know my father is a rogue and a coward. His own words more or less admit to that, but I cannot think him capable of violence.’
‘You wish to place the roses in the window?’ Matt asked.
She nodded slowly. ‘I wish to solve this puzzle. I wish to actually see my father face-to-face. He must have had that photograph with him all these years. I want to hear from him why he stayed away.’
‘I understand.’ And in a strange way he did. He wanted to find out who had killed Blaas, Cora and Hubert, and hopefully assist Inspector Greville in bringing them to justice. But he also un
derstood the longing to fill an empty space in a heart left by someone who was missing.
‘I shall send out for some red roses and then we shall wait to see what happens,’ Kitty stood and unlocked the bureau, slipping the letter and photograph inside. ‘We say nothing of this to Inspector Greville, not yet.’ Her worried gaze met Matt’s.
‘Very well, if you are certain. You know I have concerns about this, though. I made a promise to your grandmother to keep you safe and that did not include looking after a priceless ruby.’
A slight smile lifted the corners of Kitty’s lips. ‘I know and I promise I shall not be reckless.’
Matt wished he could believe her.
She followed her father’s instructions and placed a large vase of flowers on a small side table in the bay window of her grandmother’s suite, sending Matt outside to check that it was visible from the street.
‘And now we wait,’ she said.
‘It will be dark in a few hours. I don’t expect he will contact you again today. If he is as concerned as he said about your safety, and his own, I’m expecting it to be a fleeting meet-up when you probably least expect it.’
Kitty sighed. ‘I expect you’re right.’
The evening was a busy one. Vivien Delaware had proved to be a huge success during her engagement at the hotel and it was late by the time the last of the guests had retired to their beds and the visitors had all departed the hotel.
Vivien appeared to be in no mood to chat with either Kitty or Matt and she, Bobby and the musicians all left the ballroom as soon as their performance was finished. Matt accompanied Kitty to the lobby to ascertain that the night porter was at his station and observing for anything untoward.
‘Is the poor constable still on duty in the kitchen?’ Kitty asked in a low tone, out of earshot of the night porter.
‘Yes. Greville is leaving someone here for a few days.’ Matt personally felt happier knowing there was some kind of police presence in the hotel. Kitty had to be safer with the extra security.