by S M Hardy
I listened as they chatted with a sinking heart. I doubted there was any way I could talk Laura into leaving Kingsmead, at least not without a damn good reason, backed up with proof that her life was in danger. I didn’t have any proof. All I had was a cold prickling in the back of my head, and why should a young twenty-first-century woman like Laura have any reason to believe in my sixth sense for danger?
‘We have to get Laura out of here,’ I told Emma on the way back to our room.
‘After tonight maybe she can come to The Grange with us for a few days.’
I gave a grunt. ‘But unless DI Brogan finds Edward during that few days nothing will have changed.’
Emma bit her lip. ‘I suppose not.’
‘And we can’t stay here for ever,’ I said, pushing the door to our room open.
Emma sighed. ‘We have to do something.’
Plonking myself down on the bed I pulled out the drawer to my bedside table to take out the picture of the three Pomeroy boys. ‘I wish I knew the significance of Laura having to move in by the end of the month,’ I said.
Emma sank down beside me. ‘There might not be any,’ Emma said. ‘It could be Oliver was just giving a start date rather than it being put off again and again if Laura was reluctant to give up the life she already had.’
‘I suppose.’ I flipped the picture over. ‘What do you think WN stands for?’
‘It could mean anything.’ She got up and went to get her handbag. ‘I can try googling it, but I’m not sure WN will get any hits that mean anything, though.’ She pulled out her tablet thingy and started tapping away. ‘It’s a postcode in Wigan, and a company in Toronto comes up.’
‘Try WN in relation to Satanism,’ I said, leaning against her to look at the screen.
She tapped in Satanism WN. A list appeared. ‘Satanism, Church of Satan, Satanists …’ She hesitated, then her hand went to her throat. ‘Oh my God!’
‘What?’
‘I nearly missed it. Oh God, I nearly missed it.’
‘What?’ I repeated, putting on my glasses and peering at the screen.
She pointed. ‘It says Walpurgisnacht as one word, but it’s also known as Walpurgis Nacht – WN. If it hadn’t noted the date …’ She exhaled shakily. ‘If it hadn’t said 30th April, I would have missed it.’
‘So, you were right,’ I said. ‘It is a festival.’
Emma’s fingers danced across the screen, tapping on anything she could find of interest. ‘Walpurgis Nacht – it used to be a Christian feast day,’ she said, her eyes scanning the screen, ‘but is also the night when witches were meant to roam abroad. Apparently, it’s celebrated on 30th April and ends on the evening of 1st May.’
‘At least now we know why she had to move in by the end of the month.’
‘So, you reckon it’s all going to kick off tonight?’
‘It would appear that way. I’m very tempted to grab Laura and run for it.’
Emma dropped the tablet on the bed next to her. ‘What are we going to tell Laura? She’s not going to want to just up and leave – there’s too much for her to lose.’
I gave Emma a sideways glance. Her forehead was creased into a frown. She was right – Laura did have a lot to lose and her inheritance was the least of it.
‘Would you risk your life for a fortune?’ I asked.
‘Probably not, but I’m older than Laura and have everything I could possibly need.’
‘But if you were her? If you were twenty, single with nothing at all, not even family?’
Emma let out a long, slow breath. ‘Then – maybe. People throughout history have risked themselves for less.’ She paused for a moment. ‘We don’t actually know anyone means her any harm.’
‘Are you willing to risk it? Simon and Brandon were killed for a reason. We’ll have to try and talk her into leaving,’ I said.
‘Huh, good luck with that.’ Emma swivelled towards me. ‘What about Detective Inspector Brogan? If we told him Laura’s in danger, couldn’t we persuade him to provide protection if only for tonight.’
‘But what about tomorrow night and the night after and the night after that? This might be an important occasion to the Order, but it’s only a date on a calendar and all hogwash, anyway.’
‘Not to them, I’d imagine.’
‘They’re deluded,’ I said.
‘Deluded or not, they’re also dangerous.’
She was right. Two of the Pomeroy brothers and Brandon bore witness to how dangerous they could be.
‘Emma,’ I began, taking her hand, ‘promise me you’ll be careful.’
‘And you promise me the same.’
‘I promise,’ I said.
‘So do I,’ she said.
I squeezed her fingers. I had a feeling it would take a good deal more than our promises to keep us safe.
We went straight downstairs to find Laura only to be told by Maddy that she had taken a car, was going shopping in Plymouth and wouldn’t be back until dinner.
‘Shit,’ I muttered as soon as we were out of earshot.
‘Now what do we do?’ Emma asked.
‘Wait, I suppose, and try and get her away as soon as she gets back.’
The day dragged by. The air had a hot and oppressive feel to it, like a storm was coming. It probably was, but not of the meteorological kind. Most of the staff had gone missing with only Maddy reappearing briefly to serve us lunch.
‘Where’s Mrs Walters today?’ I asked as she started to clear the table.
‘Running errands, I’d imagine,’ Maddy said, after a pause long enough for me to suspect it was a lie.
‘If you should see Miss Simmons, would you tell her we would like a word?’ Emma said.
The girl gave a bob of the head and I had an inkling this was also a lie. I didn’t trust her one little bit. Then again, I didn’t trust anyone.
Having nothing better to do, we spent the afternoon walking around the gardens and they, too, were unusually quiet, without a gardener in sight. Even the stables were empty apart from the three horses who vied for our attention as though they hadn’t seen a human recently.
At five we gave up and went back to our room. We would have to speak to Laura at dinner and try and convince her to leave straight after. It wasn’t ideal, but there was no other option.
‘You go first,’ I said. ‘I’m in no rush. Anyway, I want to try phoning Brogan again.’ I had called the wretched man several times throughout the day, but all my calls went straight to voicemail.
She shrugged. ‘In which case I’ll wash my hair.’
‘We’ve plenty of time.’
She pressed a kiss against my cheek and made for the bathroom. I waited until the door closed before taking the mahogany case from my bedside cabinet. As soon as I touched it, icy-cold fingers pressed against the back of my head. I went very still, closed my eyes and lay my palm on the box’s lid. Another chilled hand caressed my skull. It was enough to help me make a decision. If I was going to have a use for what was inside it was going to be tonight. I opened the lid, took out the contents and strode across the room to the wardrobe. I rummaged through the clothes until I found my good jacket and filled its pockets. From now on, where I went my backup was coming with me.
My next job was to phone Detective Inspector Brogan. I wasn’t surprised when my message went straight to voicemail – again. The message I left was terse. ‘For the umpteenth time – we think Laura Pomeroy is in danger – tonight. Call me.’ I wasn’t holding my breath for a speedy reply.
By the time Emma strolled out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head I had hidden the now-empty box in the bottom of the wardrobe.
‘My goodness,’ she said upon seeing my clothes for the evening all laid out on the bed. ‘Has someone kidnapped my husband and swapped him for a doppelganger?’
‘Finished in there?’ I asked, scooping my jacket, trousers and shirt from the bed.
She gestured towards the bathroom. ‘Knock yourself out.’
‘I’ll endeavour not to,’ I muttered and closed the door to her muffled laughter.
When I emerged, Emma was putting the final touches to her make-up. She did a double take upon seeing my reflection in the mirror. ‘My, my, my, you look very smart this evening.’
‘We aim to please.’
‘An alien clone has definitely taken the place of my husband.’
My reflection smiled, and it crossed my mind that perhaps she was right. Tonight I was the Jed Cummings who I thought I’d left behind a long time ago. It was most strange how I had so easily slipped back into the persona. She could read the man she had married like a book, the man I was tonight was a stranger in her husband’s clothing – or was he? The stranger would have given his life for Queen and country, the man I was tonight would give it without a second thought to save his wife’s. All my senses were telling me this was fast becoming a possibility. Even so I was as calm as I was detached and this is the way I had to stay. It wouldn’t be easy – I loved her too much to be objective – and this could be what would get us both killed.
I bent down behind her, resting my hands on her shoulders, and planted a kiss on her neck. When I glanced at us in the mirror it was as though there was a fault in the glass. There was a slight distortion of my image, so it appeared there was a second reflection hiding behind the first. I saw my lips curl into a smile and I was sure it wasn’t me smiling.
I straightened and Emma reached across her chest with her right hand to rest it on my left. ‘You look beautiful tonight,’ the other me said.
Her laugh was husky. ‘I think I quite like this man masquerading as my husband.’
‘I’m going to try and convince Laura to leave with us tonight.’
Emma looked sceptical. ‘I don’t think she will.’
‘I have to try.’
‘No luck with DI Brogan?’
I gave a grunt of disgust. ‘No. If things do go pear-shaped tonight, we’ll have to ring 999. If we wait for him, we’ll all be dead and buried.’
Emma’s expression made me wish I’d used another analogy. I patted her hand. ‘It’ll be all right,’ I said. The nagging discomfort at the back of my head told me I was lying.
Soft music floated out of the living room to greet us at the foot of the stairs. I was expecting to find Laura in there waiting, but it was empty. Damn it. I wanted to alert her to the possibility of trouble while there weren’t any servants about. I knew from the theft of her shirt at least one of them couldn’t be trusted. I glanced at my watch. It was six-forty so we were a little early.
‘Drink?’ I asked.
‘VAT, please,’ Emma said.
There was fresh ice in the bucket, so the servants were about somewhere, though once again it was quieter than expected. Laura came wafting in as I handed Emma her drink. And when I say wafted it was as though she was floating on a warm cloud of happiness. She was radiant, and once again I had a moment’s disquiet about the fast-forming relationship between her and Dan Crouchley, or Foley, or whatever his damn name really was.
‘Laura, you look lovely,’ Emma said.
She flushed pink. ‘Thank you, so do you.’
Emma gave a dismissive flap of her hand. ‘Have you had a good day?’
The flush took on a deeper shade. ‘Great, thank you.’
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I asked.
‘Let me do that, Mr Cummings,’ Maddy said from beside my right shoulder, making me jump. At times the girl was as stealthy as a cat and I found it disconcerting and a bit creepy how she would suddenly appear from nowhere.
Laura and Emma chattered away while Maddy made a G and T for Laura. Fortunately, I had already poured mine, a large tonic. Tonight wasn’t a night for heavy drinking, but anyone seeing the drink in my hand would assume I was joining Laura or Emma with my choice of beverage.
Dead on seven Mrs Walters appeared in the doorway. ‘If you’re all ready, dinner is about to be served.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Walters,’ Laura said, rising to her feet, and we followed her into the dining room.
I pushed the food about my plate. There was a slightly scented flavour to the sauce which wasn’t to my taste. It had the tang of lemongrass only sweeter and even the smell made me feel a little queasy. Emma and Laura didn’t have the same reservations and were munching away with unladylike enthusiasm. I dropped my cutlery onto the plate. I was anxious to speak to Laura without the servants overhearing, but irritatingly they had been in and out in a continual stream and I hadn’t had the opportunity.
‘Are you feeling all right?’ Emma asked when she saw my barely eaten meal.
I pulled a face. ‘It’s a bit sweet.’
She glanced over her shoulder to see if any of the servants were lurking. ‘Just eat the vegetables. We don’t want the cook getting upset.’
With a sigh I speared a bit of cauliflower with my fork and munched down on it. I really wasn’t hungry, though I did see her point and, feeling guilty about the staff slaving away in the kitchen only for the food to be returned uneaten, I forced down some carrots, sugar snaps and a couple of potatoes, then had to give up. ‘Sorry, I’m all done in.’
‘I’m having a little more of the chicken,’ Laura said and spooned some onto her plate.
Emma went to pour me some wine, but I put my hand over the glass. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling all right?’
‘I have to drive,’ I said.
Emma understood immediately, but Laura glanced my way. ‘Going somewhere?’
I took another furtive look around the room. ‘We’ll talk after dinner.’
She frowned and her aura of happiness and well-being evaporated in an instant. ‘Is something wrong?’ she whispered.
I gave a grim nod, but before I could speak Mrs Walters and Maddy both appeared to clear the dishes. It was bloody typical, we’d hardly seen anything of them for almost two days and now we wanted some privacy they were everywhere.
All conversation stuttered into uncomfortable silence, speaking only to thank Maddy as she offered us desserts, then coffee, until we could leave the table and adjourn to the living room without it appearing hurried. Even then they wouldn’t let us be. Maddy hovered by the drinks cabinet and Mrs Walters popped in and out on imaginary errands. They were watching us. I could feel the weight of their stares.
‘Why don’t you leave us to it so you can get on?’ Emma eventually said to Mrs Walters.
The housekeeper gave her a tight smile. ‘If that’s all?’ she said to Laura.
‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Walters,’ and with a bob of the head the woman withdrew, gesturing to Maddy that she should follow.
We waited in silence until we were sure they’d gone. I leant forward in my seat. ‘We need to leave – now.’
‘I can’t,’ Laura immediately said.
‘Laura, it is too dangerous to stay.’
‘Why? Why is it dangerous?’ she said, suddenly angry. ‘You seem mighty keen for me to leave, but if I do I’ll lose everything.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Or is it that you have a vested interest?’
‘What?’ I said and I’m sure my face flushed scarlet.
‘Laura,’ Emma quickly cut in, ‘why would Jed and I have any interest in wanting you to leave other than your own well-being? Jed hadn’t seen Simon for decades.’
Laura’s cheekbones coloured up and the fire died in her eyes as she slumped back in her seat. ‘I’m sorry. It was a terrible thing to say. You’ve both been so good to me.’
I could see why she might be suspicious of our motives, but it didn’t stop me from being a little disgruntled. ‘To cut a very long story short, from what we understand Oliver and Edward belonged to some weird sect called the Order of the Blood and tonight is one of the sect’s important festivals. We think it’s why you had to be moved in here before the end of April.’
‘Are you saying my grandfather’s death was deliberately timed so I would be here now? But why? Why would someone do that?’
I sank back
in my seat, so very tired. ‘We don’t know all the answers, probably never will, but we do know these people don’t have any respect for human life.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t understand. Why go through all this palaver?’
‘I have no idea,’ I said, and it was the truth. Why would Edward want to hurt her? As far as we were aware he had never even met her.
Emma yawned. ‘I still don’t see what the purpose of the effigy in the clearing was all about. That was more likely to make Laura run for the hills than stay.’
I shook my head. It was another conundrum. Then who would understand the workings of the mind of a maniac?
Laura’s head nodded and her eyes fluttered, then she jerked upright. ‘Do excuse me.’
Emma stifled another yawn. ‘Don’t worry about it. I must admit I feel really tired too.’
I frowned at the pair of them. We were sitting here discussing how Laura’s and possibly our lives could be in danger and they were drifting off.
‘Under the terms of the will, does it say you actually have to sleep here every night once you move in?’ I asked.
‘Er, I think so. I have to be inhabiting the house at the end of the month, then full-time for two years, other than for’ – she yawned again – ‘other than … I …’ Her eyes fluttered again and she was gone.
‘Laura?’ I glanced at Emma and her eyes were closed. ‘Emms?’ I climbed to my feet to lean over and touch Emma’s face. Her head flopped to one side and cold fingers touched the back of my neck.
‘Oh, fuck,’ I muttered. Emma and Laura had been drugged. But how? How come I wasn’t? The chicken: it was in the sweet sauce the chicken had been bathed in.
The door swung open and Mrs Walters walked in. Behind her stood her husband, Maddy and the young stable lad who Dan had called ‘a bit slack’. I wasn’t so sure. He was carrying a rifle and he swung it up to point straight at me, his expression calm and calculating.