Mistletoe Mystery

by Sally Quilford

  “No, she were a bit younger. Our Irene, that is. Only about five years old. But she knew about the case and reckons she remembers seeing the girl. I don’t know how much a five year old would remember. Mind you, she didn’t want me to tell folks that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Oh, well the thing is, our Irene’s brother, Harry, used to hang around this school a lot. Got into trouble for it and ended up in prison.”

  “He was seeing a girl?”

  “Oh, no,” said Frank. “Nothing like that. He used to come up and nick stuff. Vegetables from the garden, sports equipment, what have you. He was only a petty thief. Not much older than fourteen, but he knew his way around a door lock. Anyway, one night they caught him on the premises with some money that didn’t belong to him. He swore it had been given to him by some bloke, loitering at the school that night, who wanted Harry to keep quiet. But no one believed him. He couldn’t name the bloke and couldn’t really say what the fella looked like, it being dark and all that. All he knew was that the other chap was meeting a really pretty girl. One of the girls from the school maybe, though Harry says that from what he saw of her, she was too sophisticated to be a schoolgirl. More like one of the young teachers. Maybe that Mrs. Cunningham when she worked here. I reckon she was a bit of a looker in her day. Still got a naughty sparkle in her eyes. Anyway, our Irene doesn’t like to talk about it. She always says Harry were set up like.”

  “What happened to the brother of your wife?” asked De Lacey.

  “He kept getting into trouble all through the sixties. Then do you know what?”

  “What?”

  “He emigrated to Australia, turned over a new leaf and he’s as rich as King blooming Midas now. Not that he even bothers to send us a Christmas card. Our Irene was farmed out to relatives when her mam and dad died, yet Harry’s never lifted a finger to help her. Ah well, I’d better be getting to bed. It’s a long day of sleuthing tomorrow and I think I have to cook blooming dinner an’ all. Who ever heard of coming to stay in a hotel and having to cook your own dinner?”

  Philly and Meg jumped back into the shadows, whilst the three men came out of the drawing room and went up the stairs to bed.

  “Do you think…” Meg started to say, before Philly silenced her.

  “We don’t know who else is around,” she whispered. “Wait till we’re back upstairs.”

  As Philly feared, Mr. Graham, Frank Bennett and Monsieur De Lacey were not the only ones in the drawing room. A minute or so later, Mr. Scattergood left the room. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up thoughtfully. Philly was terrified he would turn around and see them, but all his attention was elsewhere. With a deep sigh, he climbed the stairs.

  When he had gone out of sight, they searched the drawing room, the kitchen, the main hall and the dining room, to no avail. “Someone must have it,” said Philly. “And if we don’t get upstairs soon, we might miss them.”

  The two girls crept up the dimly lit staircase, even though there was no real reason they should not be walking around their own home. It merely felt like that sort of an adventure. Meg went to tell Puck that she would be sitting with Philly for a while, then the two girls sat in Philly’s darkened bedroom, waiting to see if anything happened.

  Philly got an extra duvet out of her wardrobe, so Meg could wrap herself up and they huddled at either end of Philly’s bed, chatting quietly.

  “Mrs. Bennett’s brother,” Meg said. “There’s something funny there.

  “Yes, I thought exactly the same. What was he up to? If he didn’t meet a man, that means he was up to no good here. If he did meet a stranger, why did the stranger pay him off? I wonder if Dominique saw young Harry and he silenced her later.”

  “I wish we could find out exactly when it happened,” said Meg.

  “We’ll try to get it out of Mrs. Bennett. Assuming she remembers the date. She was very young at the time.”

  “But even if she only knows it was around the time Dominique went missing, it might be relevant.” Meg smiled widely. “I can’t believe that we’re actually talking about a real live mystery. Oh, I know we chose the Dominique story, but the fact that we may have another link to her besides Mrs. Cunningham…”

  “I know,” Philly replied. “It’s turning out to be exciting. I just hope… well I hope that Matt isn’t involved.”

  “He could hardly be involved in the disappearance of a girl nearly fifty years ago, Philly. It had to have been twenty years before he was born.”

  “But maybe his parents were. Or some people he knows. You know these mafia types. They bear a grudge for a long time.”

  “Oh, so we’ve decided he’s the mafia now, have we? He’s a bit tall for Al Pacino, and a bit too un-Italian looking for that matter.”

  “Russian mafia?”

  “As wonderful as Matt’s cheekbones undoubtedly are, I don’t think they’re Slavic.”

  “Polish?” Philly offered.

  “Yeah, maybe. Or perhaps even Welsh.”

  “Is there a Welsh mafia?”

  “Of course. You should see my aunties if anyone upsets them. You wouldn’t want to cross them, I can tell you. Mind you, they only ply people with cups of tea, fruit cake and a good talking to, basically mothering them to death. It’s not up there with a horse’s head in the bed, but it is much nicer to wake up to.”

  Philly laughed. “I’m glad you’re here, talking to me. It stops me worrying about stuff.”

  “Things will work out, one way or another, Philly, I’m sure of it.”

  It was in the early hours, and they had both started to doze, when Philly heard footsteps overhead. Philly’s eyes snapped open. “Meg,” she hissed. She nudged her friend with her foot. “Meg, did you hear that?”

  “Wha…huh?” Meg’s eyes half opened. “Not now, Puck. I’ve got a headache.”

  Philly giggled and kicked her friend again. “It’s me you idiot!”

  “Oh.” Meg sat up, more awake. “Sorry, forgot where I was for a moment. What is it?”

  “I heard someone upstairs and if we don’t get moving, we’ll miss them.”

  The girls tiptoed to the bedroom door, which made a prodigious amount of noise when Philly opened it, as did their footsteps.

  Every floorboard made its own unique sound as they walked along the hallway towards the staircase leading to the upper rooms. Every step they took sounded like a dinosaur tramping through the house and every breath was like the wind section of an orchestra warming up.

  “I reckon,” Meg whispered, “if we stop trying to be quiet, we won’t make nearly as much noise.”

  “Shh.” Philly put her finger to her lips, trying not to laugh. She had a desperate need to giggle, because the situation seemed so ridiculous. Yet it was not funny. Any minute now, she might come face to face with Matt, and by the same token, face to face with her fears about his motives.

  She had no idea how she would deal with it. The most obvious thing to do would be to throw him out of the house, yet her typical British good manners almost forbade it.

  She hated the idea of a confrontation and was sorely tempted to turn around and go straight back to bed, pulling the duvet over her head and pretending none of it had ever happened. If she did that how could she face him the next day? Assuming he hung around once he found what he was looking for.

  She paused at the bottom of the staircase. “What is it?” whispered Meg.

  “I’m not sure I want to know,” Philly murmured back. “I mean, what if it is him?”

  “Who else could it be? Puck wouldn’t go up there at night. He has access to it all day if he’s bothered. None of the other guests could possibly know what’s in the attic. If there is anything up there.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Look,” said Meg, “If it’s him, I’ll throw him out. You don’t have to. I don’t care if I offend him.”

  “Neither do I!” Philly hissed.

  “Darling, you’re the sort of person who says �
�sorry’ when someone else treads on your toe. I can easily imagine you saying ‘I’m so sorry I caught you trying to steal from my house. Let’s have a cup of tea and talk about it.’” Meg affected a very good impersonation of Philly’s soft vocal tones.

  “I’m not that much of a pushover.”

  “Yeah, actually, you are. Especially where he’s concerned.”

  “You’re right. I know you are. I just wish it didn’t have to hurt so much.”

  “I know, sweetie, but the sooner it’s over the better. I’ll give him what for, don’t you worry. Come on, otherwise he’ll hear us and be gone before we get there.”

  “He’d have to come past us,” said Philly. “There’s no other way down, apart from through the dormer window in the attic, and it’s a long drop to the ground.”

  They took the stairs slowly, but as with the floorboards, each step creaked insanely, almost as if they were waking a sleeping animal. They reached the top and looked along the hallway to the attic. The door was open, and they could hear someone moving about inside.

  “Right,” said Meg. “We’ve got him. Come on…”

  The girls instinctively held hands as they neared the door. There was only one old-fashioned electric bulb in the attic and it did not emit much light, especially in a room packed to the rafters with old furniture and trunks. They could hear the sound of rustling inside, as if someone were shifting around little items like books and clothing.

  “Who is it?” said Philly, when they reached the open doorway. She reached for the door and took the key out, somehow feeling safer with it in her hands. She slipped it into her dressing gown pocket. “Who is in there?”

  The rustling stopped immediately and all became silent. It felt like something of a stand off, as the girls were too terrified to move forward, and whoever was in the attic did not want to come out. “Come out of there now,” said Meg. “We shan’t call the police or anything. We just want you to leave quietly.”

  “Yeah, that told him,” Philly whispered, grinning at Meg’s idea of giving Matt what for.

  “Shut up.” Meg playfully punched Philly on the arm. “If you don’t come out, we’re coming in to get you. We’ve already telephoned the police…”

  “You just said we wouldn’t,” Philly murmured. “Make your mind up.” She imagined that Matt would be laughing his head off around now. He was a big strong man, who could easily knock down two young women, and they had not shown themselves to be very brave so far, standing at the door, offering to let him just walk out of there. She began to wish they had woken Puck, not just for moral support, but also for some extra muscle. Then she rallied herself. They were modern young women. They did not need a man to take care of them. “Right,” she said, sounding braver than she felt. “We’re coming in.”

  She took a step forward, just as something warm and furry brushed past her bare feet, causing her to scream at the top of her voice.

  “What!” said Meg.

  “Something just brushed my legs. Ugh, it was horrible.”

  The landing light came on and there were heavy footsteps on the stairs. Within seconds a man came into view on the landing. He was dressed in pyjama trousers and very little else. “What is it?” he said. “What’s wrong? Are you alright, Philly, darling?”

  “Matt? How? I mean…” She could barely put into words how pleased she was to see him standing at the top of the stairs and not in the attic. But if he was not in the attic, who was?

  Philly and Meg looked at each other, both wondering what was happening.

  Chapter Ten

  “We’ve done a thorough search through the attic and there was no one there,” said Matt. “I’m sure it was just a rat you heard moving around up there, darling.”

  Philly and Meg had waited in the kitchen whilst Matt and Puck went to the attic. Some of the guests had come from their room on hearing Philly scream, but soon went back in bed. The girls sat at the table with hot drinks, having only just calmed their shattered nerves.

  “Just a rat?” said Philly, shuddering. “I’m not sure that’s very comforting. It was huge.” She did not ask Matt how a rat could possibly manage to grab a set of keys and unlock the door. She knew from listening to his phone call that he had been interested in the attic, and still did not know whether to trust him.

  Whilst Philly and Meg had been alone in the kitchen, Philly had said, “Maybe Matt just went downstairs for a minute and didn’t realise we were up there.”

  “But someone else was in there too,” said Meg. “We heard them, didn’t we?”

  “Do you think he might have an accomplice?” Philly seriously wondered if things could get worse.

  “It could be. If not, then it means that someone else in the house is interested in the attic.”

  That was definitely under the heading of things getting worse. Who could they trust if anyone staying at the house for the weekend could have picked the keys up? She tried to remember who had come out of their rooms, but she had been so shaken, when walking downstairs, she could not remember. Besides, not all the rooms were in a direct line with the staircase and upper hall. Some were around corners, and in the other wings.

  “Did you check the dormer window?” she asked Matt, as she sipped a soothing cup of tea.

  “Yep. It was tightly shut, but I don’t think anyone would climb out on the roof. They’d be crazy to in this weather, with all that snow up there. Even if they didn’t slip and break a few bones, they’d freeze to death.”

  “I suppose so. Has Puck locked the attic back up?”

  “Yes, don’t worry. Maybe it’s a good idea to keep it locked in future.”

  “Hmm, yes.” Philly nodded. It had been locked, but she did not want to tell Matt that. Let him think they had accidentally left it open. Otherwise she would have to explain about losing the key, and that might lead to why she had the key in her pocket attached to a big label saying ‘attic’ in the first place.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing, darling,” said Matt, putting his hand over hers. Why did that have to feel so good? It would be much easier if he were ugly and unapproachable, rather than a solid block of gorgeous, seemingly warm-hearted manhood that she would rather like to cuddle up to and be comforted by. “But maybe you ought to contact someone tomorrow about putting some rat traps up there.”

  “Yes, good idea. I had no idea we had rats, did you, Meg? I’m sure there are some environmental health rules about them, regarding running what is essentially a hotel. You don’t think they’ll close us down, do you?” It was just one more thing to Philly to worry about.

  “I’m sure they won’t.” Matt squeezed her hand again. “I think you’ll be allowed some leeway in getting rid of them first.” He looked at her squarely before saying, “It’s a good job you and Meg were having a late night chat. I’d hate to think of you going up there all alone.”

  “Yes, isn’t it just?” said Meg, before Philly could speak. It was just as well Meg spoke. With the feel of Matt’s hand on hers, Philly was rendered speechless. “We often do, don’t we, sweetie? It’s nice to have a girlie chat at the end of the day. Then we went and dozed off, talking about … oh who was it?”

  “Gerard Butler,” said Philly.

  “That’s him. Gerard Butler.”

  “Does he live around here?” asked Matt.

  The girls laughed. “No silly, he’s an actor,” said Philly.

  “Someone you know?”

  “We wish!” said Meg. “No, he’s out of our league, isn’t he, love?”

  “That’s a relief. I don’t want to have to challenge him to a duel for Philly’s affections.”

  “Are they on about Gerard Butler again?” said Puck, coming into the kitchen. He handed the attic key to Philly. She winked at him, silently blessing him for backing up the Gerard Butler discussion.

  “Yes, he seems to be a favourite topic of conversation,” said Matt.

  “You have no idea. Especially since he played the Phantom.”

  “
The phantom what?”

  “Of the Opera.”

  “Oh…” Matt grinned. “I must have missed that one.”

  “Yeah,” said Puck. “You only think women want a tall, dark handsome man. What they really want is a short, stocky baritone with half his face covered. If only I’d known it was so easy I wouldn’t have had all the plastic surgery.” He sucked his cheeks in, and crossed his eyes.

  “Of course,” said Meg, mischievously, “if half your face were covered, Puck, it would be a blessing to us all. Especially since the surgery didn’t go so well.”

  “Oh, there she goes again with the insults.” Puck folded over as if he had been shot by an arrow. “You wait, Matt. A woman might be all sweetness and light to you in the beginning, but get to know her better and she’ll be insulting you on a daily basis. Yet you dare mention that they have a big bum and see what happens… Not that I’m saying that at all, darling,” he added hastily, picking up Meg’s hand and kissing it.

  Philly was surprised to hear Puck talk as if Matt would be around forever. Despite laughing, and putting on a brave face, it saddened her. Because she would not be getting to know Matt at all. Not once he had found what he was looking for in the attic.

  “Oh,” she said, wanting to take the conversation onto other matters, “I overheard something interesting tonight.” Without telling either Puck or Matt the full details of how she and Meg came to be eavesdropping outside the drawing room, she explained what Frank Bennett had said about his wife’s brother. “I wondered,” she said, when she had finished, “whether it might be possible to get him on the phone and see what he remembers from that time.”

  “Good idea,” said Matt, “But what about Mrs. Cunningham? If she was a teacher here at that time, she might remember the details.”

  “Of course!” Philly rolled her eyes. “I hadn’t thought of that. Good idea. I’ll have to do it when Irene Bennett is not around. Are they on the same kitchen duty, Puck?”

  “They were,” he replied, “But it can easily be changed. Leave it to me.”

  “You’re determined to solve the mystery of Dominique, aren’t you?” Matt said to Philly. “The real mystery that is.”