The Complete Kate Benedict Cozy British Mysteries

by Carrie Bedford

  “Where’s everyone else?” Fergus asked, looking around the empty hall.

  “Mr. Knox and his team went up twenty minutes ago,” Mrs. Dunsmore answered. “The Ballantines and the Coxes are already in their rooms too. They all have an early start in the morning. I’m going to check they have everything they need.”

  She hurried away up the staircase. The woman was indefatigable. It made me tired just thinking about the day she’d had.

  Fergus sat down on the oak bench, sticking his legs out straight in front of him. “Remind me never to do this again,” he said with a grin. “I’m too old for parties.”

  “It was a good one.” Josh took a seat next to him. “A proper celebration.”

  “Let’s have a nightcap,” Fergus suggested. “I have a special bottle, a Springbank single malt from the Mull of Kintyre, which my father gave me when I graduated from Oxford. Might as well enjoy it now. Sixty-five isn’t so old, but no one knows what’s coming, do they? Follow me. It’s in the drawing room.”

  He stood up, smoothed out his kilt and led the way. I was glad that Lucy and Duncan came with us without argument. We all needed to talk. As we filed in, I grabbed Josh’s arm. “We have to tell them,” I whispered.

  Josh paused, half turned to look at me. “Tonight?”

  “We might be running out of time.”

  “You’re right. I’ll leave it to you.”

  I waited until Fergus had poured us each a small dram and we’d all taken our first sip.

  “I have something to say,” I said.

  Lucy’s eyebrows shot up. Duncan grunted and took another swallow of his whisky.

  “It’s hard to tell you this,” I began. I took another sip of my drink. “Fergus, you and Duncan are in mortal danger.”

  Duncan laughed and coughed at the same time. “What the hell does that mean?”

  I explained about my ability to see auras and how their presence signified imminent death. “The good news is that because we know you’re in danger, we can do something about it.” I stopped, but no one spoke. “Usually,” I continued, “the first appearance of an aura indicates that the victim might die within a week or two. But the way your auras are moving, very fast, it’s more likely to be a matter of days, maybe hours. That’s why I’m sharing this with you. You have to be hyper cautious while we work out where the threat lies.”

  Fergus’s face creased into an expression of deep concern. He looked at Josh. “You believe all this?”

  Josh nodded. “I do. Kate has a gift. She’s been seeing these signals for three years now. Sometimes people die. But she’s been able to save others. Actually, if not for Kate, our prime minister would be pushing up daisies.”

  “The prime minister?” Fergus asked me.

  “It’s a very long story.”

  “This is bloody ridiculous,” sputtered Duncan, slurring his words. “Auras? Rippling air? Imminent death?” He waggled his hand in the air. “Oooh, scary stuff. Not. I can’t believe you’d fall for this codswallop, Josh.”

  Fergus leaned forward in his chair. “Be quiet, Duncan. How do we discover the source of the danger, Kate? Do you know what it is?”

  “No, not yet. It could be to do with the proposed sale. You two are the current owner and the heir to the estate, which suggests it is a factor.”

  “Someone wants to prevent the sale?” Fergus asked.

  “Possibly. There are plenty of suspects. People who want things to stay as they are and will do whatever it takes to make that happen. We need time to find them, discover what they are planning— and stop them, of course.”

  Duncan glared at Lucy, who’d remained silent. “You already knew about this? This portent or whatever it is Kate thinks she can see?”

  “Kate told me earlier, yes.”

  “But you agree with me that it’s rubbish?”

  Lucy declined to answer, instead bowing her head over her drink.

  Duncan ran his finger round the rim of his glass, producing an eerie singing noise from the crystal. “Something just struck me. If someone kills off Fergus and me, the estate goes to Joshie.” He pointed at his cousin. “You have a motive, old man. What are you planning? Sell it anyway and pocket the money? Or vacate London and enjoy the good life in bonnie Scotland?”

  “Duncan!” Lucy admonished.

  He burst out laughing. “I was only teasing. Good God. You’re all so damn humorless.” He slumped in his seat and swallowed the remainder of his whisky.

  “Do we bring in the police?” Fergus asked, ignoring Duncan’s outburst.

  I glanced at Josh. We both knew how challenging that would be. “We could,” I said, “but I know from experience that it’s hard to convince a policeman to take any of this seriously.”

  Duncan laughed again. “I can’t for the life of me see why.”

  I shifted in my chair and gazed at Fergus, as though the act of looking into his eyes would convince him of what I was saying. “I’ve never been wrong about an aura,” I said. “I wish there were some doubt, some chance that I’m misjudging the situation, but I don’t believe I am. So we need to do everything we can to keep you and Duncan safe, and we need to consider every possibility, however improbable it might seem. Can you think of anyone who means you harm? Or you, Duncan?”

  Duncan snorted. “Only a couple of hundred people. Like every hedge fund manager I outperformed last year— and there were many. A few disgruntled investors who don’t understand the way the markets work. I made them millions but that wasn’t good enough, apparently.”

  “Oh, shut up, Duncan,” Lucy snapped. “You think you’re a goddamned master of the universe just because you gamble with other people’s money and occasionally win.”

  Duncan’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped open. He looked like the trout I’d seen in the lochan. “You can’t speak to me like that…”

  “Stop it,” said Fergus. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but this isn’t the time for you to be fighting.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Duncan ignored Fergus and glared at me. “You see this swirly air, which you say predicts death, but you don’t have the faintest clue what the danger is or when it will strike?”

  “No.” I wanted to slap him.

  “Then what’s the point? It’s like my telling a client that he’s going to lose a huge amount of money unless he invests in the right company. Well, of course he’ll lose money if he bets on the wrong stock. That’s where I come in. My experience and knowledge will shield him from financial disaster. I do my homework; I know the risks and the pitfalls. You, Kate, seem to know nothing. Why bother to predict this hypothetical doom when there’s nothing you can do about it?”

  “I don’t choose to see the auras. Believe me. It’s a gift I’d swap in a heartbeat. But once I see an aura, I try to help.”

  “And I bet that works out really well,” he said, his voice laden with sarcasm.

  “It is possible to change the outcome.” I struggled to stay calm even though I was ready to strangle Duncan myself. “We simply need to pinpoint areas of potential danger.”

  Duncan threw himself back against the sofa cushion. “Unfreakingbelievable.”

  “It seems to me that we should have faith in Kate’s prediction,” Fergus said. “I trust Josh, and if he trusts Kate, that is sufficient for me. So, Duncan, I’d suggest you give this some thought. It might save your life.”

  He leaned over to pat my hand, as if I was the one in need of consolation. “As for me, my dear, my decision to sell has upset a number of people. Have I made them angry enough to want to kill me? I wouldn’t have thought so, but who can tell what lurks in a man’s heart? Or a woman’s, come to that. Humans are messy and unpredictable.” He poured himself another finger of the single malt.

  Duncan stood up. “I’ve had enough of this tosh. I’m going to bed.”

  “I’m not sure you should go off by yourself,” Fergus said. “Given what Kate’s just told us.” He smirked.

&nb
sp; Duncan flapped his hand at him as though swatting a fly, but he looked at Lucy. “Coming, Luce?”

  She paused, looking at each one of us in turn. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Finally, though, she put her glass down and stood up to join Duncan.

  When they’d gone, Josh spoke to Fergus. “What about you? I’m worried about you being alone all night.”

  “Well, you’re not staying in my room, laddie,” Fergus laughed. “I’ll be fine. I’ve no intention of popping my clogs any time soon. The castle is all closed up, Arbroath will be with me, and I’ll lock my door too. Lachlan’s on call if I need him. Now, let’s get to bed. Stanton Knox and his crowd are leaving as soon as it’s light. I should be there to bid them goodbye.” He got to his feet and patted Josh on the shoulder. “You did stellar work today. Knox told me after dinner that he has everything he needs and is ready to move ahead. We’ll be able to hammer out the contract by fax and email over the next few days. For now, get some sleep. We’ll reconvene in the morning to talk about… this aura thing.”

  14

  When Josh and I reached the tower, Lucy’s door was closed and so was Duncan’s. We paused to listen, wondering if Lucy had managed to calm Duncan down, but heard nothing. Further along the corridor, the sound of laughter came from one of the other guest rooms where two of Fergus’s friends were spending the night. Knox and his associates were on the ground floor.

  In my room, I threw myself onto the bed, suddenly exhausted. Josh leaned over to unbuckle my sandals and then sat down to take off his own shoes. We undressed slowly, each lost in our thoughts. Josh was tense, his concern for his uncle visible in every taut muscle in his neck and shoulders. I rubbed his back, which felt like a block of iron.

  “We should get some sleep,” I suggested. “There’s nothing we can do tonight.” I unpinned my hair and ran my fingers through it to smooth it out. “You realize it’s Sunday tomorrow and we’re supposed to be flying home.”

  “We can’t leave Fergus,” Josh said. “I’ll call Alan in the morning to let him know we’ll be taking Monday off. Unless you want to go back? There’s no need for us both to miss work.”

  “No way. I’m staying with you. And we’re going to save Fergus.”

  “And Duncan.”

  “Duncan too,” I agreed. “In spite of his shortcomings.”

  Although it was past one in the morning, Josh took the time to hang his kilt and jacket in the wardrobe. With a grin, he picked up my dress from the bed where I’d left it, and threaded the straps over a hanger. He got into bed, yawned widely and, within a minute of putting his head on the pillow, was asleep.

  I lay awake, hearing the wind whistling in the chimney. The leaded windows, old-fashioned and single-paned, let in every sound from outside— the scratching of a tree branch on a wall, the patter of rain. I’d thought I was tired, but sleep wouldn’t come. The wind swelled, sighing through the sashes. Then, as though a tap had been turned on, the rain intensified, a deluge that rattled the windows and hammered on the roof. A door banged somewhere, making me jump. I pulled the duvet up around me and snuggled closer to Josh, but the cold leaked in through the covers, and I couldn’t get warm.

  I thought I heard noises in the hallway, footsteps on the tiles. A late guest, perhaps, although I thought Josh and I had been the last ones to retire. I waited, straining to hear, but any sounds from outside the room were drowned out by the shriek of the wind and the pounding rain. I should check, I told myself, to make sure that no one was outside, but it was hard to force myself out of bed. When I did, my bare feet tingled on the cold floor. I moved quickly to the door and eased it open. Several red-shaded sconces lit the hall, which was empty. All the doors were closed. I stood for a minute, but heard nothing. It seemed that everyone was asleep.

  My fears assuaged, I retreated back to bed, but the darkness felt like a heavy mass weighing down on me, compressing my lungs so that it was hard to breathe. Berating myself for being a baby, I got up, switched on the bathroom light and left the door open a crack so that a faint yellow glow alleviated the blackness.

  Still I lay awake for hours, listening to the din of the storm. Sleep-starved, I could barely tell what was real and what I imagined. Voices in the hallway, a creak outside the door. I was sure I saw a bat hanging upside down from one of the wooden beams, but when I blinked, the sinister shape disappeared. Memories of Nick’s waterlogged body and of my vision on the moor swirled in my head.

  When dawn finally came, the storm had abated, diminished to a melancholy drizzle. I sat up and looked around the room, benign now in the early morning light, stripped of its shadows and imagined terrors. Yet a lingering apprehension made my heart beat faster than it should. Josh had slept soundly all night, but now he woke as though from a nightmare, thrashing around in the bedclothes, throwing an arm out and narrowly missing my chin. I stroked his hair and murmured to him. “Wake up. It’s okay.”

  While we were dressing, I heard the throb of an engine and crossed to the window to see Knox and his colleagues wheeling their cases through the mist towards their helicopter. I caught a glimpse of Fergus coming back inside. Relieved that he had got through the night safely, I told Josh that his uncle was up and about.

  “Let’s go down then,” he said. “I want to make sure he’s all right.”

  In the breakfast room, Fergus was working his way through a plateful of ham and eggs, orange juice and tea. His aura continued to spin fast over his grey hair, dashing my faint hope that the threat to him might have departed with Knox and his team. The race was still on, then, to locate the source of the danger before disaster struck.

  Mrs. Dunsmore was in charge of the toaster and the teapot and served us scrambled eggs from a large warming dish. In spite of my anxiety, I tackled a slice of toast with enthusiasm. I’d eaten so little at dinner that my stomach was growling indignantly.

  “Pierre hasn’t come in yet,” the housekeeper said. “I told him to take an extra hour or two after all he did last night, so it’s a simple breakfast, but we’ll have a sit-down lunch later on. You’ll have time, won’t you, to eat lunch before you leave?”

  Josh glanced over at Fergus before answering. “We’re going to stay another day or two.”

  “Oh, splendid,” she said, smoothing out an imaginary crease in the tablecloth. “Then we can talk about what you’d like for dinner when Pierre arrives.”

  “Are Lucy and Duncan up?” I asked. “They’re supposed to be leaving at midday.” I was worried about Duncan. I’d try to convince him to stay, but doubted he would. He didn’t believe in the auras.

  “Not yet,” Mrs. Dunsmore replied. “I’ll leave the breakfast things out for when they come down, and, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find Lachlan. The last two guests are on their way down and will need help with their bags.”

  Soon, we heard the sound of suitcases being wheeled across the entry hall, and Fergus left the breakfast room to say goodbye. When his visitors had gone, he came back and sat down with us. He poured himself another cup of tea and dropped two cubes of sugar into it before looking up at me. “I suppose we should talk about this aura situation,” he said. “I assume that’s why you’re not planning on leaving yet? Is the aura still there?”

  I nodded, feeling miserable.

  “And it’s moving fast?” Fergus passed his hand through the space over his head.

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is. My recommendation is that you pass the day very quietly. Perhaps you could sit in the drawing room and read. You’re not expecting any visitors today, are you?”

  He set the teaspoon in the saucer. “Kate, I don’t fully understand how this aura thing works, but I can’t skulk around, trying to avoid whatever it is you think awaits me. There must be something more…. proactive I can do?”

  I was desperate to help Fergus, and there was no guarantee that sitting on a sofa all day would save him. For all I knew, it would be better if he went out, left the castle, even traveled to London with us. That could be a solu
tion we hadn’t considered yet. Not knowing the source of the danger left every possibility open.

  “You said you think that the estate sale is a possible reason for the threat,” Fergus continued. “I’ve been giving that some thought. We need to talk to the tenants and staff, to assure them that nothing is going to change. From what I’ve discussed with Knox, no one is going to be evicted. He wants the place to keep going as it has been. He’s got the money to do the repairs, and he understands that continuity is a good thing in this case. The Bryants will continue to run the stables, and the Donaldsons and the Gillespies will keep the trout farm and the sheep farm. Mrs. Dunsmore and Lachlan retain their positions and their accommodations. It’s all agreed.”

  “Yes!” I jumped to my feet. “The sooner you can get the word out to everyone the better. That might be all that’s needed to remove the threat.”

  Fergus rubbed his chin. “Much as I’ll be happy to pass on the good news to my neighbors, I can’t believe any of them wish me harm. People complain loudly sometimes but have no intention of following through with any real action. The bark is usually worse than the bite.”

  “Well, I think we should get on to it,” Josh said. “I’ll drive you. Once you’ve talked to everyone, maybe that aura will go away.” His eyes shone, and he looked happy for the first time in three days.

  A clock chimed on the sideboard. It was nine o’clock. “Some of them will be at church,” Fergus said. “We should wait until after lunch.”