The Corpse with the Sapphire Eyes

by Cathy Ace

  I paused. “Why didn’t we hear the noise of all this happening when we were in the drawing room? You’d have thought it would make a real racket. And even if we didn’t hear it, what about her mother, who was directly below her?”

  Bud shook his head. “I don’t know why we didn’t hear anything, Cait. Noises seem to move around this place in the most peculiar way. But our priority now should be to ask the people who know her about where she might have gone. Come on, let’s leave this as it is, and go ask.”

  We re-entered Alice’s sitting room as a pair.

  By this time the room looked as though an informal soiree was taking place, with people sitting, and seemingly lounging, about the place. It was only the variety of injuries on display that gave away the fact that something very unusual had taken place.

  I nudged Bud, indicating he should take the lead. He did. “We have checked through Mair’s rooms, and she’s nowhere to be found. I wonder if any of you might be able to suggest where she might have gone.”

  Good job, Bud—start softly.

  Idris, who was by now upright, with a large pad of gauze taped to his head, said, “Where would she go at this time of night? None of us usually go out after dark. Why would we?”

  Eirwen added, “That’s quite right. I don’t know of anyone who ever leaves the castle after dark. Unless they’re driving into one of the villages, or into Swansea, you know.”

  Rhian sighed. “I quite often go out to the stables after dark. It’s a good time to find some peace and quiet and get some work done at the office. I used to see Mair out and about sometimes.”

  Owain muttered, “Preposterous,” then glanced at me, blushed, and shut up.

  “Where would you see her?” I asked.

  “Out somewhere smoking her face off, I dare say,” sniped Alice. She seems to be back to her old self.

  “I’d see her sitting against the stones in the stone circle,” said Rhian, ignoring her employers. “She spotted me one night and asked me not to say anything. She didn’t want anyone to know how much she loved the circle. She told me it made her feel calm—connected to the world, yet disconnected from it.”

  Owain harrumphed. I ignored him.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Anyone else got anywhere to suggest?” I thought I should check before I went tearing off.

  “I think it most unlikely she’s anywhere near the stone circle,” said Owain sulkily. “She’s been openly dismissive about it her whole life, so I cannot imagine it holds any significance for her.”

  As I motioned to Bud that we should leave, I said, “People and their habits change, grow, take a new course, and, sometimes, adopt new patterns, Owain. Maybe it’s something you should consider for yourself.”

  I knew it was a mean-spirited thing to say when I wasn’t giving the man a chance to respond, but I was utterly annoyed with Owain “my way or the high way” Cadwallader. As far as I was concerned, he could stew in his own particular brand of “preposterous” juice until Bud and I returned with Mair. If we could find her.

  Pedwar ar ddeg ar hugain

  FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE we’d arrived in Britain, Bud and I didn’t need our wet weather gear as we headed out of the castle. It was a cold night, and blustery, but it was no longer raining. Flashlights in hand, we trudged across the pea gravel driveway toward the stone circle. As we called out Mair’s name, the wind carried our voices inland, away from the ancient monument. We knew we’d have to get close for our shouts to be heard by anyone near the jagged obelisks, which were still invisible to us in the blackness of the night, so we put our heads down and pushed against the force of the buffeting gusts.

  The stones were black with rainwater, and the beams we played upon them dazzled us. But, although we completely circumnavigated the entire site, there was no sign of Mair. I recalled the cabinet full of old guns in the stable block, and my concern deepened. When I shared my worries with Bud, I noted that his mouth became a thin line and his chin thrust forward in his most determined manner.

  We set off toward the stable block. It was dark and we couldn’t be sure of our footing, so we stuck to the tarmac roadway, rather than cutting across the uneven grassy banks as we had done earlier in the day. It was a longer, more meandering climb, but we both agreed it was the safest option. As we made our way, we fell silent.

  With no rain to blur our vision, we looked down upon Castell Llwyd. Light spilled from the windows of the drawing room, Alice’s apartment, and the great hall. While walking up and around one particular bend I saw something that made me grab Bud’s arm.

  “Look, someone’s in my room,” I said. There was a light shining from the turret in which my bridal boudoir was situated, right above the dining room.

  “Siân?” replied Bud.

  I shrugged and pushed on.

  We finally reached the stable block. There were no lights to be seen inside the building.

  Bud cursed under his breath. “Idris locked it when we left. So either she couldn’t have got in, and we’ve come on a fool’s errand, or she had keys and might have locked us out.”

  Despite his words, Bud tried the handle of the stable door. He gave me a grin and the thumbs up when it turned, then we switched off our flashlights and pulled open the door as quietly as possible.

  Our breathing was the loudest sound in the place. We both agreed, with a nod, that we were alone. Switching on our flashlights we swept the place for signs that Mair might at least have been there at some point since we’d left the place hours ago. Nothing seemed to have been moved. Bud tried the door to the gun cabinet. It was locked. He looked as relieved as I felt.

  Not having found Mair, we were just about to leave when we both stopped in our tracks. A groaning, crunching sound was coming from behind the canvas-covered Aston Martin that Idris had told us was David’s special project.

  I grabbed Bud’s sleeve and dragged him in the general direction, and we both turned off our lights once more. But it wasn’t dark for long. Rounding the car we had no problem seeing, because light was flooding up out of a trapdoor that was being noisily pushed open. Let into the floor of the stable and covered with a flagstone, it would be almost invisible when it was closed. The light from the opening shone onto the back wall of the stable, and someone was coming up a ladder set into the abyss. A head appeared over the trapdoor. It was Mair.

  Obviously startled to see us, she let out a little cry. She seemed to consider descending the ladder again, but, realizing there was little point, hauled herself out of the opening and brushed herself off as she came to stand beside us. Her hands, face, and clothing were all grubby, but with a whiter dust than I’d seen anywhere either inside or outside the castle.

  She noticed me examining her clothing, looked down at herself, and said, “Limestone.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure the temple is quite a sight. Carved out of the limestone bedrock, I suppose?”

  Mair nodded. Bud looked puzzled.

  I said, “The dust on this canvas car cover has taken a very long time to accumulate. I thought of that when we saw it earlier on. David wasn’t working on the car at all. He was working on the temple.”

  Bud nodded. “We already knew he was searching the temple. He’d found out about Owain’s secret passage from the coal cellar.”

  “Owain’s got a passage from the coal cellar to the temple?” Mair sounded stunned.

  “You didn’t know?” Bud looked skeptical.

  Mair shook her head vigorously. “But that would be typical of Owain—I mean, why wouldn’t you choose the most difficult thing to do and dig uphill, when there’s a perfectly good channel running downhill?”

  “The old river course?” I asked.

  Mair nodded. “It used to run right through where they built this place. All David and I had to do was gain access to it, follow it along, clearing it out a little here and there, and then get into the temple itself. I wonder where Owain’s passage enters it. I’ve never seen another entry point.”

  �
�I believe his passage comes up into the cistern,” I said.

  Mair nodded. “Oh, I see. I think.”

  Again, Bud looked puzzled, but instead of pressing me to explain, he said, “Mair, we’ve come to find you because we’re very concerned for you. Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” said Mair, clearly implying there was no reason she shouldn’t be. “Why do you ask?” A look of panic crossed her face. “What’s happened? Has something else happened? Tell me—is Mother okay? Owain? What is it?”

  I explained the situation that had arisen in Alice’s apartment as best I could, and then told her about the damage in her own rooms. Her reaction suggested she hadn’t caused the damage herself. I’d misjudged her, which is unusual for me.

  Mair walked across to the workbench and grabbed a coat she’d pushed behind it. “I am done with all of this.” She waved her arm in the air. “Mother clearly isn’t well, you’ve told me that Idris has hired some unqualified girl to look after her to save a pound or two, Owain’s been lying to me for years about the temple, and . . . and David is dead. I . . . I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t actually do anything, you see. I wouldn’t know how to earn a living away from this place. Well, let’s be honest and just admit I wouldn’t know how to live away from this place, let alone earn a living. It’s as though I’ve spent my entire life in a prison. I am totally, and irredeemably, institutionalized. I wouldn’t make it out there, not for five minutes. I get panic attacks in Swansea Market because there are too many people there, for goodness sake. What use am I to anyone, for anything?”

  I spoke as reassuringly as I could. “Your mother needs people around her she knows and loves, whatever might be happening to her right now. Maybe it’s as easy to tackle as getting her off a lot of medications she shouldn’t be taking together, which I am sure my sister will address. Or maybe it’s more difficult, like night terrors, or the beginning of dementia, or even Alzheimer’s disease.”

  “Loves? You think my mother loves me?” Mair laughed in my face. “She’s obviously not the only one who’s nuts around here. You’ve heard how she talks to me. She hates me.”

  I knew there was little point following that particular line of discussion, especially while the three of us were standing in an unheated stone building in the middle of a winter’s night.

  Bud clearly agreed. He said, “Mair, we came out to look for you. Everyone back at the castle knows that, and I’m sure they’ll be worried about you. Why don’t we walk back down together and talk about this in the warmth?”

  Pulling on her coat, Mair said, “Fine. There’s nothing for me here anymore, anyway.” Odd.

  We pulled the outer door closed behind us and Bud locked it up. I said to Mair, “So you and David didn’t find anything then?”

  She smiled sadly. “Not a sausage. But it was so exciting to be looking. The most thrilling hours of my life were spent here, underground, when David and I were off on our secret hunts. It made me feel very special.”

  The walk back down to the castle wasn’t as difficult as the walk up had been. I noticed that there was no longer a light on in my room, and that there was just a dim light in Alice’s apartment. As we drew close to the white stumps of columns that had once surrounded the Roman temple to Neptune inside the bluestone circle, we had a good view of the castle. I could make out the movement of bodies inside the drawing room. There were only heavily decorated lace curtains at the windows, so it was easy to see movement, but not shape. I hoped that the room, and our welcome, would be warm, because I was beginning to worry that my fingers might never regain their circulation.

  With steps to go before we entered the double doors of Castell Llwyd, the wind sent a bank of cloud scudding across the sky, and moonlight shone through the thin cloud remaining. The halo effect of the moon behind the cloud lifted my spirit.

  “Look, Bud,” I said. “There is, in fact, a silver lining.” We both took just a moment to look up, holding hands in the suddenly brilliant moonlight.

  “There always is, my darling Cait,” he said, and he kissed me on the forehead. “And I bet you tomorrow will be a beautiful day,” he added.

  “We have to get through tonight first,” I said, and with that, we walked into the great hall, to be greeted by Eirwen.

  Mair explained that she was fine, that she’d simply gone for a walk. The women rapidly exchanged family news, with Eirwen reassuring Mair that her mother was fine. I was glad to hear that Idris was asleep. Siân had elected to stay in Alice’s apartment to oversee Janet and the old woman, while Rhian and Dilys would both be staying in Dilys’s apartment that night. Gwen would be able to get a good night’s sleep in Rhian’s bed, rather than on a couch. I didn’t quite see why no one had seen fit to offer poor Gwen the guest room next to Siân’s that wasn’t in use, but that wasn’t my call.

  When Eirwen took her leave of us, I said to Mair, “Where will you sleep tonight? I can’t imagine it’ll be very easy for you in your rooms.”

  “It can’t be that bad, surely?” said Mair blithely. Of course, she hadn’t seen what we’d seen. I tried to explain.

  She looked more concerned than she had been. “Well, of course I want to go and see what’s been damaged and broken, but I’m not in any mood to do anything about it tonight. Maybe I’ll sleep in the bed in the upstairs library,” she said.

  “There’s a bed up there?” I asked.

  Mair nodded. “Owain often sleeps there—he says he loves it. That it’s the only truly quiet part of the castle. Of course, given that you’ve just told me that he’s been scrabbling away underground for years, maybe he’s never slept there at all. Maybe that’s the knocking I’ve heard at night—the bwca noises. Just Owain, after all. Maybe he’s been laboring all night, then napping in the library in the day—when we all thought he was working on his historical texts. I wouldn’t put it past him, he’s such an idiot. But, there, he’s my brother.”

  “Given that he’s clearly been keeping some rather big secrets all this time, can you be quite sure he wouldn’t have been the one to damage your belongings?” I had to ask.

  Mair looked amazed. “Owain? Never. Not a spiteful bone in his body.”

  I wanted to mention that he’d displayed exactly that trait toward me on a few occasions, but I bit my tongue—which was still a little sore where I’d bitten into it the night before.

  Bud and I offered to help Mair sort through her room, but she declined, forcefully. So she went her way, and we went ours. Once again Bud and I stood outside the door to my room. It was gone ten thirty, and I was dog tired.

  “Not quite what I’d hoped for in terms of my last night ever as an unmarried woman,” I said as Bud hugged me.

  “Cait—none of this is what I’d hoped for, but we’re still in the middle of it now. Tomorrow we will come out the other side. So tell me, how do you know so much about what’s going on? And do you know the full story yet?”

  “Bud, I understand that you want me to tell you everything, but we’re both very, very tired, and, who knows, tomorrow might still be our wedding day. So let’s just allow the Cadwalladers and all the other people who live here to sleep tonight, and we’ll do the same thing. I cannot wait to get into my bed. I don’t envisage any trips to the kitchen tonight, because I really believe there is such a thing as beauty sleep, and I haven’t had any for days. I’ve got a sore tongue, I suspect I’ll have the beginnings of a black eye by the morning, this cut on my arm is niggling at me, and my back might not be as bad as my sister’s, but it’s giving me gyp.”

  Bud grinned. “Are you aware that you and Siân sound as though you never left Wales now? Siân’s Australian accent, and any hint of Canadian you might have picked up, have gone completely. It’s quite amusing, though I’m having to listen even more carefully when you speak. It’s a bit odd, but I think I like it.”

  I laid it on thick. “Well then, my lovely boy, you’d better get used to it, hadn’t you, ’cos when I sees you in the morning, I’m going to come
over to sit by wherever you are, and tell you all the secrets everyone here’s been hiding. Tidy like.”

  “And with that, I’ll say goodnight, Miss Cait Morgan. I love you lots.”

  “Goodnight, Mr. Bud Anderson. I love you more.”

  “Love you most,” I heard as I shut my bedroom door, flicked on the light, and headed for the bathroom.

  One up to Bud.

  Pymtheg ar hugain

  AS I SNUGGLED UNDER THE covers, my feet were so cold I could only warm them up by stealing warmth from my other body parts. I tucked each foot into the back of each knee, turn and turn-about, until I could feel some lessening of the chill. Of course, once I was lying down, my mind started to race, and I found I couldn’t stop it.

  Having had such a horrible experience with my normally useful wakeful dreaming technique in the bath, I decided I wouldn’t try that again, but I knew that my brain wouldn’t let me sleep until I’d given the mystery of David’s death, and the acts of vandalism, a thorough thinking through. I toyed with the idea of getting up and making some lists. I like lists; I’m good with lists. But my room was too cold for that to be an appealing idea.

  My body ached and wanted me to lie still. My head spun, running through all that had happened since we’d arrived at Castell Llwyd, trying to sort it all out. My head won. I pushed back the covers, put on the bedside lamp, scampered to the wardrobe, pulled it open, hauled out my carry-on, located a pad and three pens, shoved my bag back into the spot where I’d dumped it upon our arrival, and rushed back to my bed, which, I was pleased to discover, had held onto the warmth my body had created.

  I pulled the covers about me, so as much of my body was covered as possible, and gave the matter some thought. Just the process of making a list is a wonderful thing for me. It forces me to organize my thoughts, even before I write them down. So I started with the matter of the treasure, because it was the easiest place for me to begin. For me, when it comes to lists, the output might not look like much, but it’s the thinking that goes into them that counts.