“Alicia will go and get the major. He’ll know what to do.”
Uncertain, Alicia paused at the door. “But are you safe here?”
“We’ll lock the door. Knock twice and we’ll open. Do hurry!”
“I hope they get here before Harry does,” Ellen said after she’d gone. “Otherwise, I’m going to have to play along with him, aren’t I? I’ll have to pretend I don’t know what he’s up to. I don’t think I can do it, Daphne. I’ve never been good at pretending.”
“Yes, you can. You’re stronger than you think.”
Silence enshrouded us. Tortuous minutes passed like hours. We dared not move or make a sound.
Ellen played with the pistol on her lap. “I’m not a good shot. Are you?”
Taking the weapon from her, I endeavored to recall the mechanisms. It had been some time since I’d been hunting.
“Teddy gave it to me on the night of our engagement. A strange gift, along with a ring, but now I understand it. We were in danger from the very beginning…”
Poised at her desk, she suddenly sat up straight. “Someone’s coming…”
We both waited, breathless.
The footsteps reverberated along the corridor. They became quicker, shorter. Heart pounding, I stationed myself behind the chair.
The door sprang open.
“Mummy!”
Catching Charlotte in her arms, Ellen sobbed with mixed joy and relief.
“I told you I’d bring her home safe.” Grinning at the door, Harry came inside, his expression turning stony when he saw me.
It wasn’t the reunion he’d planned in his mind. He imagined Ellen alone and grateful to him. Since my presence prevented his romantic assurance, I remained holding the weapon behind my chair.
“Mummy, I’m so tired, I just want to go to bed.”
Ellen and I exchanged a glance. So he’d drugged her to keep her distracted.
“It’s all right, darling. Are you hurt?”
Letting her mother examine every inch of her, Charlotte yawned. “No, they didn’t hurt me.” She yawned again.
“I’ll carry her.”
“No thanks, Harry. I’ll take her. We’ll talk later?”
Seizing her child, Ellen made for the door. I caught the frantic look in her face. She wanted to get Charlotte as far away from him as possible and I was to detain him. Feeling the weight of the pistol, I naturally asked what happened.
“They’ve got the money. They’re leaving England.”
“You mean you’ve got the money.”
Drawing the pistol, I pointed it at him.
“No,” I said as he tried to reach his pockets. “I know you did it, Harry. It was your handwriting that betrayed you. Years ago, you posted a letter for Ellen. This letter.”
Confronted with the evidence, he rolled his shoulders. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“It proves something to Ellen. She’s always trusted you and treated you like a friend. She’s more than repaid the kindness you showed her in the early years but it wasn’t enough, was it? You wanted more. You became insane with greed.”
A tiny smirk flickered at the corners of his mouth. “Your imagination, Miss du Maurier, has clearly clouded your judgment.”
“Ellen believes me.”
“I very much doubt that. What have you been doing here all this time? Dreaming up all this nonsense? When did I become a villain in your book?”
“The day we went to Mevagissey. You said you’d do anything for Ellen.”
Lounging by the door, he crossed his arms, still smiling. “I fail to see the significance.”
“You wanted Ellen and you wanted Thornleigh. When did your love affair with the house begin? When did she become your mistress? I guess it was when you murdered Lady Gertrude. Getting the old woman out of the way opened many doors for you, didn’t it? You had Ellen solely in your power and you had Thornleigh.”
“I can see why you write novels. Your head is full of nonsense.”
“Nonsense. But I am making perfect sense and that is what unsettles it. You nearly got it away with it. Admittedly, you had to pay off Jack Grimshaw and that cost you. Or, more importantly, it cost Thornleigh. You intended to give the money back to her. In your mind it was never ransom money but a loan. Tell me, did you get the idea to kidnap Charlotte from the real ransom notes?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do. From what the police have already established, there were two different writers. We can easily dismiss one as the raves of Cynthia Grimshaw. The second, still unknown, gave you the idea to become the third and thus turn everything—Ellen, Charlotte, and Thornleigh—back into your power.”
A low chuckle escaped his lips. “There is something wrong with your brain, Miss du Maurier. You have no evidence or witnesses and your silly little letter—what will that prove? The police wouldn’t waste their time to consider it.”
“But we will consider it, Mr. Mainton.”
The calm voice produced Inspector James.
Relief tingling my veins, I kept my finger poised on the trigger. If Harry went for his weapon, I’d have to fire.
Taking out a set of handcuffs from his pocket, Inspector James said: “We can go quietly or by force. I strongly suggest the former, Mr. Mainton.”
“Mr. Mainton?”
Harry’s gaze locked with mine. An arrogant coldness consumed him, and he shrugged, surrendering his pistol to Inspector James. “I have nothing to hide.”
His blasé comments and manifestations of innocence echoed down the hall. Following at a discreet distance, I hunted for any signs of the major. Where was he?
Near the front door, Inspector James paused. “Miss du Maurier. Can you assist me? The keys are in my right pocket.”
I hurried over to him. He didn’t want to lower his weapon for a second and I understood why when Harry made a dash for the door.
A gunshot fired. I reeled to the floor, my hand tangled in Inspector James’s pocket. Disengaging it, I ran with the inspector.
“Go back,” he puffed.
“I’m fitter. I’ll run after him.”
“No, let him go.” Stopping by a hedge, the inspector fished out a handkerchief from his pocket. “We’ll catch him later. He can’t go far.”
I didn’t want to question his intelligence but I thought Harry could go very far. He knew every square mile of this country. He could hide anywhere. “Is it true, Inspector? Is the evidence not enough to incriminate him?”
“We shall make a careful study of the writing. I think maybe he knows there is plenty here to match it.”
“Because he ran, that makes him guilty about something.”
“Yes and no. Sometimes one runs because of other reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Protecting someone.”
“Or a secret?”
“Or a secret.”
“He killed Lady Gertrude. He killed Teddy Grimshaw, too. He has the biggest motivation. He wants Ellen and Thornleigh. He had to remove her mother so she could inherit. He had to remove Teddy so she was free again. I overheard him professing his love for her, you know. She rebuffed him.”
He paused, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “When was this?”
“A few weeks ago. Her saying no might have induced him to stage the kidnapping.”
“And win the widow.”
“You must confess. It’s a clever plan, one I never thought he’d do. He saved Ellen. He supported her.”
“Yes, but if this support included the death of Lady Gertrude, it is warped. It was only a matter of time for the ugliness to manifest itself again.”
Standing on the landing outside Thornleigh, I stared into the woods. “He’s out there. And he’s angry…”
“No need to worry, Miss du Maurier. We are here.”
“I wish I had your confidence, Inspector.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Back inside the house, I asked for
Alicia.
“She’s upstairs with Miss Charlotte, miss,” whispered a maid, startled by the drama of the last two hours.
“Have you seen the major at all?”
“No, miss.”
Climbing the stairs, I flexed my right hand. Twisting it in the inspector’s pocket left it strained.
I knocked at the door to Charlotte’s room.
Low voices awaited me, and Ellen, after establishing it was me, answered. She looked tense and afraid and I updated her.
“Harry,” she echoed, resuming her seat. “What monster took hold of him? He was always so good to us.”
“Greed. I believe he murdered your mother, too.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I know. I never wanted to admit it. We’d had a conversation that day she died … I remember standing by the rosebush. Mother had been particularly mean. He caught me crying and I remember saying ‘I wish she was dead.’ Afterward, when they laid her in the ground, I wondered if my saying it had caused it to happen. The investigation found nothing so we never spoke of Mother again, but in my heart, I suspected Harry switched her dosage. And she, unknowingly, swallowed the fatal medicine.”
Listening quietly across the room, Alicia shook her head. “Her death made life easier though, didn’t it?”
Ellen nodded without hesitation.
“One can’t condone bad acts, but one can understand them,” I said. “Alicia, did you go to the major’s room?”
“Yes, but he wasn’t there.”
Ellen shivered. “Where is he and where is Sergeant Heath? I don’t feel safe enough to leave this room.”
“You stay here. I’ll go down. Maybe Nelly knows where they are.”
The presence of the pistol knocking against my leg lent courage to my searching the house. Inspector James promised to stay on hand, and he telephoned for more officers. Considering the size of Thornleigh and Harry’s intimate knowledge of the place, there was a chance he’d come back. Maybe for money or papers or other personal effects. His intention to elude the police put danger into my step. Harry didn’t like me. He didn’t like my being close to Ellen. And he certainly didn’t like my reading into his true character.
If I hadn’t uncovered the truth he might have convinced Ellen and gradually wooed her into marriage. She’d have never known it was he who had kidnapped her daughter.
To my intense relief, I made it to the kitchen without trouble.
“Oh, my!” Nelly raised her eyes. “What a t’do. Well, I always thought he was too big for his boots and too close to Miss Ellen. It weren’t right. Harry’s had designs on her for some time, I’d say. He killed Mr. Grimshaw. That’s why he’s run off. He knows we’re on to him.”
I allowed a little smile to play on my lips. “Nelly, you have a fine understanding of matters. But until Harry is caught, we are under siege, for want of a better term.”
“Under siege.” She picked up a chopping knife. “How can I help?”
Lowering her weapon, I fought back a smile. “He’s dangerous and best left to the police. Speaking of which, have you seen the major?”
“He went out with Sergeant Heath. Some tip-off, I expect. How is Miss Ellen? Is she frightened? I’ll go up and sit at her door.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I think it’s best you stay here and act normal. If Harry does come back, there’s a better chance of catching him if he thinks everybody is doing their usual work. Inspector James has gone to wait in Harry’s office. That’s where we think he’ll go.”
“Bad devil he is, takin’ Miss Charlotte like that. Ye see them together, ye think he loves her!”
“He loves Thornleigh more.”
“It ain’t natural to love a house.”
Yes, but I understood such an obsession. Perhaps it was easier to love a house than a person. A house may fall into disrepair but its loyalty stayed infallible.
Not knowing what to do, I ordered afternoon tea and took it to the inspector.
“Do share a cup with me,” he offered. “The writing on the envelope matches this ledger book. I ought to hire your services. You’ve a penchant for detection.”
“Thank you.”
“And what have we here?” Inspecting the items on the plate, he glowed with anticipation.
“Cherry chocolates and lemon biscuits. Nelly didn’t know which you’d prefer.”
“Cherry chocolates, and you, Miss du Maurier?”
“Same.” I smiled and selected one. “Do you really think he’ll come back here?”
“Well, he’ll have a devil of a time taking off those handcuffs without a key. And he can’t keep away from the house.”
“But he must know we’re here waiting for him.”
“Yes, but if I know anything about anything, he’ll risk it.”
“Why are you so sure? He has the money.”
“The money, Miss Daphne, is the clue. And there is one fellow who thinks himself lucky enough to escape us.”
“You’re speaking of Jack Grimshaw?”
Consulting his watch, the inspector gobbled down the last of the chocolates. “Right about now, we should have him. Well,” he conceded, “Major Browning will have him. We received a communication pinpointing the location of Mr. Grimshaw. We’ve been wanting to talk to him for some time but he always manages to elude us. Not, I suspect, this time.”
“Having one in custody doesn’t mean they will talk. Who betrayed him?”
The inspector smirked. “Do you care to hazard a guess?”
I thought for a moment. “He’s out of favor with his cousin Dean Fairchild so it’s not him.”
“There you are wrong. It seems Mr. Grimshaw was stealing from both sides, as Mr. Fairchild attested. Selling information is a dangerous game. Let’s say the business caught up with him and his former employers wish him locked away.”
“Salinghurst … the earl and the others.”
“Yes. They say they hired Jack Grimshaw to persuade his uncle’s widow to give up the shares. The term persuasion is used in the liberal sense. I think you follow my meaning.”
“The attacks … in the woods and the chocolates…”
“We suspected but we didn’t know. Now we know for sure because a woman got it out of him.”
I stared at him. “Rosalie? She turned him in?”
“Precisely. It seems the little time she spent with her sister encouraged her to make a stand. Major Browning and Sergeant Heath will bring her back here.”
I stood up. “I must warn Ellen … I must prepare her. Rosalie is not the person she is made out to be.”
“No, she isn’t. I have spoken to her on the telephone myself. She says she knew little of the truth. I have enlarged it for her.”
“It doesn’t explain who killed her mother.”
The inspector sighed. “We shall never know that one, I fear. The city is too busy to bother about the case. She shall go down as unsolved.” He paused, and looked at me. “Something bothers you, Miss du Maurier?”
“I don’t like unsolved.”
“Yet in life sometimes one doesn’t know if one is good or wicked. You say you like to write books. Why not write one where we do not know if the character is good or wicked. Make the character itself unsolved. An interesting concept, don’t you think?”
It was a great concept. Leaving him, I went to jot it down in my journal. I wrote: A widow. A rich widow. Husband died mysteriously. Is she good or is she bad? Is she innocent or is she guilty? Beside this, I added a name. Ellen…, no, Rachel. Yes, Rachel.
* * *
I convinced Ellen to come down to dinner.
Inspector James sat with us, only after posting another sergeant in Harry’s office. “I wish to make it as inviting as possible for Mr. Mainton to enter the house, so we have two men on the grounds and two inside the house. Ladies, please retire to your chambers and lock the door.”
“Why is Uncle Harry bad?” Charlotte asked her mother. “He’s always nice to me. We were going to the seashore
. He said you were meeting us there, Mummy.”
Exchanging a glance with each of us, Ellen sighed. “Sometimes, darling, a person’s mind becomes sick. Harry got sick.”
Frowning, Charlotte considered this answer. “Can we give him some medicine to make him better, Mummy?”
“We can. That’s why Inspector James is here. He’ll take Harry away and make him better.”
“Oh.” Charlotte bestowed a beguiling smile at the inspector before returning to her mother. “But maybe Uncle Harry doesn’t want to take his medicine and that’s why he’s run away?”
“But darling, you know what happens if you don’t take your medicine. It’s important Harry takes his.”
“If he hates taking medicine like I do, he’ll come in through the secret place.”
Dropping her spoon, Ellen stared at her child. “What secret place?”
Charlotte looked away. “It’s our secret, Mummy. Mine and Uncle Harry’s.”
Swooping to the knees, Ellen began her appeal. “Darling, you need to take me to that place. Me and Inspector James. It’s really important we help Harry while we can. Where is it?”
Charlotte still wasn’t sure.
“You think you’re breaking a promise with me by telling us but you’re not, darling. Where is this secret place?”
“I’ll show you,” she said at last.
Filing outside the dining room, a strange calm descended on the house. While Inspector James, Ellen, and Charlotte headed down the eastern corridor, an instinct drew me west.
The dull lights guided my footsteps. It was around the dinner hour so I imagined the servants to be at their table after serving the mistress. Not wanting to leave Charlotte’s side, Alicia went along with the others and I wondered if I should have done so, too.
The uncanny quiet grew with the thickness of the summer air. It was a beautiful evening: still, warm, the only sound being my shoes on the old wooden floor. Allowing the floor to lead me, I walked on, removing my cardigan in the heat.
The west wing loomed ahead. Funny, I had always thought it the coldest part of the house. Passing the knight standing guard to the entrance, I opened the door to the ancient hall and gasped.
Fire … fire everywhere.
The Villa of Death: A Mystery Featuring Daphne du Maurier (Daphne du Maurier Mysteries) Page 25