‘Oh, sorry. Well you see, Thornley’s secret is the master passage.’
‘The master passage?’
‘Of course, that’s how I found out about the Minotaur and Cardinal’s gathering station, because if one follows the master passage, you can see everything and into every room.’
Frank gazed at her, ‘Would you run that by me again.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Sorry, would you explain the master passage.’
‘Oh, I see. Well it’s a series of narrow passages that run separately to all the others, they go right over the fifth floor and there are peepholes everywhere, I’ve seen into every room, watched people and listened to hundreds of incredible conversations.’
Monty stared away into the distance as he tried to visualise the larger picture.
‘Of course, I don’t understand everything they say, but quite a lot, and I know the gathering station is totally entwined with Mrs A’s golden thread.’
Furrows began to appear on Monty’s brow, ‘Golden thread?’
‘Yes, it’s a thread of strategically placed Cardinal people, and like the master passage it runs everywhere and through an amazing number of government departments.’
Monty leant forward, ‘Such as?’
Thinking for a moment, she held up her hands and began ticking off her fingers.
‘Well there’s the MoD Defence Committee to the Treasury, the Treasury Defence team, Operational Analysis, the Director’s office for Defence policy, the Cabinet Office, the Intelligence and Security Committee to the Prime Minister, GCHQ, MI5 and MI6, the Minister’s office for the Armed Forces, the Joint Intelligence Committee, the Franks Committee, Chatham House, the Chiefs of Defence Intelligence …’
She stopped when she saw they were looking at her with incredulous, staring eyes.
‘I can go on if you wish, but the thread is pretty endless.’
As the two men sat in stunned silence, Tara turned to each of them and smiled.
‘I did say I’ve heard some pretty amazing things, didn’t I.’
Frank thought, Yeah, and if Angela ever finds out about this, we’re all dead.
Monty held up his hand to silence them as he thought through this new revelation.
‘Miss Goodwin, if I understand correctly, you said you gathered this information from watching and listening in the master passage, is that correct?’
‘Yes, but it did take quite a long time.’
‘But did you actually assimilate all this knowledge, and then deduce its purpose?’
‘That’s right, and it was a puzzle to start with, but it gradually became more clear when I connected the right strands together till they formed a logical sequence, and to prove it, I watched the news and saw how the Cardinal system worked, so it was quite easy really.’
As Monty sat quietly thinking, he realised Angela had assessed her perfectly, because she did indeed have the intellect of an Einstein whilst living within the psyche of a child.
‘Miss Goodwin. Where exactly is Thornley’s book right now.’
‘Oh, it’s quite safe, it’s back in its hidey hole in the library.’
Monty looked across to Frank, ‘Well this changes everything. So it might be better if you speak to Mr Dudley alone because I really must see that book. Agreed?’
‘Yeah, and bring it away with you, I’d like to see it as well, and it might be a good idea if we get it out of here to safety, and as soon as possible.’
‘I quite agree. So I think I’ll send it to Mrs P at Moon Shadow.’
20
Tara fetched the wheelchair, and as Frank watched her push Monty away, she called back saying Evelyn had arrived to help out, so she would send her down to swipe him through, and smiling, waved goodbye.
But Frank didn’t smile back, knowing if Angela ever discovered what she knew, Tara would disappear before nightfall, so now he had to get her out, just as soon as possible.
Impatiently killing time with a cigarette, he heard the aggressive machine gun of clickety click high-heeled shoes striding across the flagstones, ‘Mr Lewis?’
Turning, he saw a tall, roundly attractive woman in her middle years, and standing not only erect but arrogantly to attention as she gazed at him from fierce grey eyes.
He guessed her age to be mid-forties and she was dressed in an immaculate grey suit, her dark hair falling in bouncy waves to her shoulders, and while her eyes held a cold glint, her skin looked flawless and creamy, but her full soft lips looked strangely red as if she’d been brought to some secret arousal, and when she smiled, it was only the condescending, obligatory smile of welcome.
Walking over he felt a sense of being watched, and glancing up to the fifth floor was just in time to see the faint blur of grey hair and a smart charcoal suit disappearing from view across the high balcony.
‘Mr Lewis? I’m Evelyn Carthwaite, Mr Dudley’s private secretary, and I understand that Tara ... I mean, Miss Goodwin, wishes me to swipe you up.’
‘Yeah, thanks. So let’s go, I want to see Dudley as soon as possible.’
She visibly tensed, ‘Very well, because Mister Dudley is expecting you.’
Turning, she flounced away, her high-heels now clicking angrily into the house, and pressing and swiping through the gate, strode to the lift and stabbed the button.
As the humming lift motor carried them up through the levels, he felt the heavy uneasy presence of her animosity, but as he’d never met her before, he wondered why, and leaning against the wall, saw her stance was of uncompromising arrogance as she stood on her right side, her left knee pushed out under her skirt, and while her soft bottom twitched impatiently, she folded her arms under her chest, and choosing to keep her eyes firmly averted from his, watched the lift lights as they flicked up through the levels, and he couldn’t help thinking that if nothing else, this lady sure did have a terminal problem with her own superiority.
‘Do you have any kids, Mrs Carthwaite?’
She stiffened, her bottom no longer twitching as her body tightened up, ‘No.’
‘Still married?’
‘No.’
‘Divorced?’
She turned, her head held erect while looking at him as if he were a bad smell.
‘Yes, I am divorced, if it’s any of your business.’
‘It is. So how long were you married?’
Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her folded arms, ‘Four years.’
‘So didn’t you want kids?’
‘No.’
‘Did your husband?’
For a moment she forgot herself and almost sadly looked down to the floor, ‘Yes.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘No.’
‘So why was that, Mrs Carthwaite?’
‘Mr Lewis, is any of this relevant?’
‘It is to me. So answer the question. Why didn’t you want kids?’
Evelyn took a deep breath, her bouncy hair tumbling as she gazed up to the ceiling.
‘Well if you really insist on knowing, it was because I was offered the position of personal and private secretary to Mr Dudley, here at Thornley Manor.’
Frank looked at the immaculate woman, and thought, Oh well - to each their own.
‘And so, Mrs Carthwaite, what do you think of Dudley.’
Her grey eyes turned icy, ‘Mister Dudley is a fine man. He’s kind, considerate, totally professional, impeccably mannered and a joy to work with, in fact the manor would be nothing without us ... I mean, without him... and in my opinion you should be looking elsewhere for your rogues and not bothering us because we are good people, professional, honourable, respectable and decent.’
As she glowered at him, he remembered Tara saying Evelyn had been kind, but what he was seeing in this cold feisty woman didn’t match Tara’s description at all.
So where did the truth lay, somewhere in Tara’s dreams, or in Evelyn’s schemes?
The lift stopped, and as the doors swished open, he spoke to her dispassion
ately.
‘Mrs Carthwaite, tell me again what good people you are, and what was it you said, professional, honourable, respectable and decent, and while you’re at it, you can tell me just how many times you’ve slept with Miss Goodwin.’
Leaning against the lift wall, he watched as she turned to stone, her breath coming in quick sudden gasps as her mouth fell open in shock, and as her eyes became ever wider, the glossy veneer of her life, suddenly split wide open.
Watching through cold dispassionate eyes, he saw her self-important little world crumble and fall away into tiny shocking pieces of exposed lies.
‘I … I …’
Looking away, he walked out of the lift and glanced back from the curved lobby.
‘Mrs Carthwaite, the lover’s doors are waiting, and I’m ready if you are.’
Standing close behind her, he felt her tremble as they swiped together, and she actually jumped when the electronic bolts suddenly flew back to release the door.
‘After you, Evelyn. Oh ... you don’t mind me calling you that, do you?’
‘No, of course not … But, Mr Lewis, may I speak with you privately?’
‘Sure. Step inside.’
The door closed, and as the bolts flew again, he saw her tying knots with her fingers.
‘Mr Lewis, I would like to explain. You see, what I did was to protect us, something awful was happening and we thought Tara was the cause of it, we had to find out what she was doing, our careers were in jeopardy.’
He stared. Surely she hadn’t jumped into bed with Tara, just for her career.
‘Mrs Carthwaite. Are you saying you went to bed with Miss Goodwin to discover something about her, and use it to save your career?’
‘Yes, of course, we had to know the truth. It was just so incredibly important.’
‘Oh great. Well if the truth is really that important, I’ll give you the good news … You see, it’s your fine and dandy, Mister Dudley who’s betrayed his Queen and country, and spare me the protests because we’ve already got the proof, and the head of security you’ve been jumping into bed with, is an MI5 officer working here under cover.’
Evelyn sagged, her mouth gaping wide open.
‘So what the hell am I supposed to make of that, and you should be clear about this, the word we’re talking about is Treason, that’s why I’m here and not the police, I’m from Cardinal, so if you’re hoping for an easy ride out of this, forget it.’
Her eyes grew wide with disbelief as her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish.
‘Mr Lewis, you really must believe me, I’ve done nothing wrong, I beg you, I would do anything for Thornley, it’s my career, my life, I’ve got nothing else.’
‘So did you really go to bed with Miss Goodwin, just for the sake of your career?’
Her eyes shone brightly, ‘Yes, I told you. We had to know if she was the one.’
‘The one? And what do you mean by that?’
She twitched, ‘Someone has been making Mr Dudley’s life totally unbearable, and it must be someone who knows about him, and not just his work but his sexuality, and that person must also know of Leonardo, inside Leonardo. So you see …’
As Frank listened to her wild ramblings, the sad logic of her thinking finally sank in.
‘Yeah, yeah, I see ... and as Miss Goodwin is head of security, you just assumed this mystery person, who seems to know everything, just had to be her. Right?’
‘Well yes. Ambro ... I mean, Mr Dudley, did come to that conclusion.’
‘But not you?’
‘No, I didn’t know anything, he wouldn’t say, only that he was in trouble.’
‘Right. So whose idea was it to sleep with her and try to discover something?’
‘It was Mr Dudley. Considering her reputation, he thought it was the best way.’
Frank scowled, ‘But it didn’t exactly bother you to sleep with her, now did it?’
‘No, not really. You see, I get quite lonely, and she’s very nice.’
He sighed, ‘Okay. And did you find what you were looking for?’
‘No. She didn’t know anything, it was obvious from the start.’
‘So although it was obvious from the start, how long have you been sleeping with her.’
She took a deep breath, ‘About three months, just now and then.’
‘And why was that, if you knew all along she wasn’t the one.’
Evelyn looked away, ‘Well as I said, I get lonely all on my own.’
As Frank stared at her, he thought, Lady, you don’t need a career, what you need is a life, but there again, what the hell do I know.
The heavy door opened to the thud of bolts, and as Evelyn walked away to security, it seemed inconceivable to her, that in the space of a few minutes, her reign as the queen of Thornley could be all over because Ambrose Dudley was to be accused of Treason, and as she’d tried to help him, she was also under suspicion.
Watching her complete the paperwork, Frank remembered her saying that someone had been leaning on Dudley, and that confirmed two things.
Someone was powerful enough to make Dudley ruin his life, and also, he or she must know just about everything going on in this place. Coming out of his dark thoughts, he saw Evelyn waiting, and together they stepped into the labyrinth.
Following her through the myriad passages, he tried to form a mental picture of Ambrose Dudley, but in no time at all they stopped, and looking around, recognised the nameplate on Dudley’s door.
‘Evelyn, you’d better wait in your office, I might be quite a while.’
Smiling sadly, she looked at the familiar door, ‘Alright, he is expecting you.’
Turning the heavy brass doorknob, he pushed, but the door held firm.
‘I don’t think he wants to see me.’
She walked over, ‘That’s odd, he never locks his door, there’s no need to.’
‘Well it’s locked now.’
Knocking at the door, he listened, but not a sound could be heard from within.
‘Have you got a spare key?’
‘No, sorry, but there should be a duplicate in the security office.’
‘Don’t bother, I haven’t got time.’
Taking the small leather wallet from his inside pocket he knelt down at the door, and watching as he worked on the lock, Evelyn heard the final lever suddenly click, and turning the handle, Frank pushed open the door.
The room was large and comfortable with the most exquisite carpet and antique furniture, a mahogany desk with three chairs, six bookcases and a sofa with two armchairs, and looking around, he saw sunlight flooding into the room through open French doors leading out onto a sun drenched balcony, a balcony that earlier had held a proud grey-haired figure dressed in a smart business suit.
Standing in the doorway, Frank looked around, but there was no sign of movement. Noticing the heavy curtain to the left of the windows was hanging off the rail, he walked inside, and looking out across the balcony, saw a curtain rope tied around the top of the smooth stone of the balustrade, the knot gently moving to and fro to the swinging rhythm of a weight hanging below.
Walking slowly across the room, he scanned all around, and stepping out into the brilliant sunlight, walked over to the balustrade and looked down.
But he already knew what he would see.
The sad figure of grey hair and a smart suit, a man who’d been forced to do something that had probably broken his heart, and because of that, Ambrose Dudley was swinging by his neck, and had taken the password to his grave.
Frank gazed down to the forlorn figure of Ambrose Dudley, and he didn’t like it at all.
If a man had to die, it should be by a heart attack, an accident, an assassin’s bullet or blown to pieces, anything at all, but not like this.
Swinging by his neck was the worst possible insult to his mother’s labour.
His moody thoughts were abruptly ended when he felt Evelyn move to his side, and watching as she looked down, saw her choke and g
ag as her mind gave way, her hands grasping out for the balustrade as her knees buckled, her body collapsing under the crushing weight of what had just assaulted her eyes.
Slipping his arm around her, he held her firmly and turned her gaze away, and with her eyes bulging and her body quivering in shock, eased her into the room and sat her down on the sofa, her face a ghostly white.
Having settled her, he began to wander around, and it soon became obvious that everything was immaculate, spotless and tidy, a place for everything and everything in its place, even the pencils on the desk were in line, and the room seemed to be more of a museum than someone’s office, and in the still deathly silence, it was hard to imagine this shrine to a code of living had actually been used for anything - but then he saw them.
Close beside a huge armchair there were four indentations in the thick pile of the carpet, and looking back to the disturbed curtain, Frank realised the curtain rope would have been too high to undo without something to stand on, and when he eased the armchair over, the feet slid perfectly into the indentations.
So the armchair had obviously been used and roughly put back, but not by a dead man, and now it was a fair bet that poor old Ambrose Dudley had been murdered.
Walking over, he sat down beside Evelyn, ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I think so, but you said Ambrose betrayed his queen and country, so is that why he killed himself?’
He looked at her, ‘Evelyn, he didn’t kill himself, someone did that for him.’
She gasped, ‘What? What are you saying? Are you sure? But why?’
He shrugged, ‘Poor old Dudley knew far too much so he had to go, but the question now, is how much do you know?’
Sudden clouds of fear drifted over her grey eyes as a sheen of sweat came to her brow.
‘But I don’t know anything. I just did my job, that’s all.’
‘Yeah, but the trouble is, Dudley probably thought the same.’
Evelyn’s eyes suddenly became blank when she realised she also might be in danger.
Frank sighed and looked away, because now, two more victims had joined the list, first Ambrose Dudley who’d paid with his life, and quite possibly, Evelyn Carthwaite.
Taking her through to the calm of her own office, he settled her as best he could, and picking up the phone, made two calls.
Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1) Page 22