Upwards on the left were five deer heads above the ornate archways that led to a corridor. The entire area of intricate woodwork, the inglenook fireplace and stained-glass windows had the look of a magnificent setting for a presentation of stage magic. To crown it all was an eye-catching bronze of a monkey-eating eagle.
Looking upwards to the first floor gallery Giles could spot what appeared to be two large Japanese urns. He turned to his guide and shook his head in disbelief. ‘This hall is large enough in which to hold a dance.’ he said in wonderment. ‘Do you think it might have been used for that?’
‘I doubt it…surplus to requirements as you will see when I take you to the Ballroom!’
Giles just shook his head as Angus escorted him into the corridor leading to the room on the right.
‘This is the Dining Room,’ said Angus with a warm glow in his voice as he gesticulated with a sweep of his arms to the large dining table with sixteen chairs around it. The wood-panelled room had a fireplace in the wall backing on to the Great Hall and, to the left of that in the corner of the room was an opening into an alcove.
‘What would that be used for? An inquisitive Giles asked as he wandered through the opening in the wall.
‘The alcove was apparently an afterthought,’ the caretaker remarked. ‘An original access for dinner guests was through a secret room to the right of the fireplace in the Great Hall. It was eventually sealed off leaving this alcove.’ The caretaker smiled knowingly as he continued. ‘And this would be where the piper would sit with his dram of whisky while the guests were at dinner.
A nodding Giles was as good as a wink from this professor of magic. ‘The chairs around the table look different,’ he said changing the subject, ‘and I’m not sure why?’
‘’You’re quite right,’ Angus agreed as he obligingly proceeded to explain. ‘The chairs came from Sir George’s ship the “Rhouma”. Most of the wood in here also came from that ship.
The grip Giles made on the caretaker’s arm brought his remarks to an abrupt halt.
‘Good God, Professor, what’s the matter…have I said something to cause you distress?’
‘Nothing the matter, I hope!’ Giles explained as he released his grip. ‘But your words remind me of something sent to me in a conundrum…one of the reasons why I’m here I believe. Would you repeat what you just said?’
‘I think I just said…what’s the matter?’
‘No, Angus. Before that.’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘You were explaining about the chairs being unusual.’
‘Oh yes. I think I mentioned that the chairs came from Sir George’s ship.’
‘Yes that was it. And the name of the ship? Would you spell it?’
‘The Rhouma…R-H-O-U-M-A.’
‘The seats of Rhouma,’ said an enlightened and relieved Giles. ‘Where the seats of Rhouma stay. That was part of the riddle.’ Giles’ eyes once more had that faraway look as he spoke. ‘I’m in the right place but I’m really none the wiser as to what it means!’
‘Sorry I can’t help you any more but there’s a painting of Sir George’s ship in the corridor. As I said earlier much of this room came from the Rhouma. The chairs or seats in your riddle were fixed to the floor in his ship as is usually the case with sea going vessels.’
‘You’ve been most helpful, Angus. If only I can put everything in perspective I’d have a clearer picture. The secret is here…I know it is. It is now up to me to make some sense of it. Why ever do you think he furnished this room from contents of his ship? It must have had a special meaning for Sir George.’
‘It certainly did. It was because of his ship that he was given a knighthood. Without the Rhouma he might never have been Sir George.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes he allowed the Rhouma to be used as a hospital ship during the Second Boer War and George was knighted by King Edward V11 in 1901 for his services to King and Country.’
‘Yes, I can see why it was very special.’
‘The ship was Clyde built in 1895 and we Scots are very proud of that fact, especially as shipbuilding on the Clyde is no longer what it used to be. Sir George sailed around the world and, in particular, to Japan where he became a friend of the Emperor. The monkey-eating eagle was one of the many gifts he received as were the incense burners in the Great Hall. We’ll come across a few more gifts in some of the other rooms.’
When the two men left the Dining Room they moved across the corridor and entered what the caretaker named as the Billiard and Games Room.
‘This part was where the gentlemen smoked their cigars after dinner and Sir George had vents installed in the ceiling that extracted the smoke,’ Angus clarified with seeming approval. ‘He also had air conditioning introduced under the billiard table; possibly the first of its kind this far north.’
‘He must have been a remarkable man with such foresight to have modifications like that put into this structure.’
‘I think you’re right, Professor. Much of what you’ll see in this building will have been the thoughtful deliberations of a man’s world; the deer heads, the large fish you’ll see in glass cases and all the paintings.’
‘Not forgetting the billiard table,’ said Giles pointing through the opening to the full size table in the next area.’
‘That’s right. It was his marriage to Lady Monica that changed things somewhat. It was she who brought the feminine touch to some rooms.’ As they were about to leave the Games Room the caretaker host astonished his researching guest by declaring that the windows in the place were double glazed; yet another incredible innovation from years gone by.
Leaving the room, they retraced their steps along the corridor that passed the Great Hall, now on their left. On their right Giles stopped to look at a painting of the large yacht from where the dining chairs came. Giles’ thoughts returned to the conundrum he’d received at RAF Winkleigh. His thoughts were short-lived as Angus pressed a switch and organ type music blasted out from behind. Turning to face an ebullient caretaker Giles was unable to converse as the vast musical contraption, complete with drum, played part of Rossini’s William Tell Overture.
Struggling to make conversation audible Angus pressed close to the ear of his guest. ‘What you are hearing is coming from the German built “Orchestrion”. One of only three of its kind and, probably, the only one that is still capable of playing. It is motor driven and plays perforated card rolls.’
‘That takes me back,’ shouted Giles in playful mood. ‘It reminds me of a piano that did something similar in an ice cream shop in Dumfries when I was quite young. I think an Italian by the name of Fusco owned the shop.’
‘This one was supposedly made for Queen Victoria,’ said Angus whose words bellowed out in the still quiet as he switched off the machine. ‘Quite possibly another bit of news that may not be entirely true.’
‘I’m afraid the truth is a hobby of mine,’ said Giles. But there seems no doubt at all that Sir George Bullough was a man before his time.’
‘Sir George was, in every way, a big man,’ said Angus pointing upwards to the portrait on the gallery wall. ‘He was six feet eight inches in height and, among his many technological gadgets, he established electric lighting, marble top central heating, double glazing, power showers and also had the powerful music-playing Orchestrion installed.’
The next stop was Lady Monica’s Drawing Room where her feminine influence was very much in evidence.
On to the Empire Sitting Room where the laurel wallpaper gave the room the atmospheric tradition of a Great Britain long since gone.
On leaving the Empire room the caretaker took Giles across the corridor to the Ballroom with its sprung floor and the Minstrels’ Gallery where musicians from the Rhouma played. Giles was impressed by the magnificent chandelier and the silky wall covering. He was also curious about the windows facing out to the open courtyard.
‘I’d like to know why the windows are placed so high on the walls.�
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Angus smiled as he replied. ‘The placing of the windows was done to prevent outsiders looking into the ballroom yet allowing daylight to enter. It would never have been proper to let others look in at ladies and gentlemen in their finery dancing the night away.’
Both men crossed the spacious dance floor and left by the far door. ‘That is the Library,’ said Angus pointing to the south-west end of the house. I was going to show you that interesting Study today but someone was trying to get in there earlier and to prevent that happening my wife locked the door and she has the key. I’ll take you there tomorrow.’
‘That’s one place I really want to visit. I have an idea that a little research there might reveal some important results.’
‘Have no fear, Professor. That will be a vital port of call tomorrow.’
‘How did your wife get to know that someone was trying to enter?’
‘That’s easy! She was in the library doing a spot of tidying when there was a knock at the door. When she called out “who’s there” there was no reply. She heard a scuffle but when she opened the door there was no-one outside and the corridor was empty. There are several places where one could hide and the impression she got was that a stranger was in the building who wished to remain unseen.’
‘What an unnerving incident!’
‘That’s not the only one we’ve had recently.’
The questioning and puzzled expression on Giles’ face prompted the caretaker to continue.
‘Yes, I had a phone call in the library yesterday and a voice spoke in a whisper when I answered.’
‘Has there always been a phone in the building?’
‘To his credit Sir George had a phone installed when the building was in the early stage. I understand it was an undersea cable and would give him a chance to communicate with those in Newmarket regarding his racehorses. He’d probably had a phone in the library and in his general quarters. The Nature Conservancy have now had several installed for the use of their staff.’
‘You sounded surprised and a little mysterious when you said the person on the phone whispered?’
‘It made no sense at all,’ replied Angus, stroking his greying beard. ‘The voice said “This is Allison calling from beyond the grave. Please make your visitor aware there will be others”. We had no visitor yesterday and I don’t know anyone called Allison. The whole thing made no sense especially the words…there will be others.’
‘Was the voice female?’ Giles asked insistently.
‘Do you know, I can’t say…it was so faint?’
‘I know someone who’d say that was spooky,’ offered a bewildered Giles.’ I don’t suppose you’ve had any more calls like that?’
‘No, it’s not the kind of call we normally get here. Let me guide you back to your room. You can freshen up and make any notes you want, then I’ll contact you when dinner is ready.’
It was raining quite heavily when Giles got back to his bedroom. He removed his shoes, lay down on the bed and tried to fathom the meaning of that sinister phone call the day before he arrived. It was obvious he was continually being harassed by someone belonging to the circus group he was investigating. Someone who knew what was going on and was probably the killer of Allison…someone who was most likely aware of what was to take place in the future. And that someone was taunting Giles; believing all the time that Giles was incapable of coming to any successful conclusions.
Giles got up from the bed, put on his shoes, and grabbed a towel that had been laid out for him. He then climbed the short flight of stairs to the small bathroom where he sponged his face.
Once back in his room he looked out the windows overlooking the trees at the back of the house on the West side. The rain was sluicing down the panes and the trees outside were blowing wildly in the strong wind.
It was getting quite dark outside and Giles began to feel the atmosphere of this strange building of a bygone era and his thoughts turned again to those eerie and ghostly words spoken in a whispered voice.
Chapter 13
YOU’RE TALKING TO YOURSELF AGAIN
After dinner Giles sat for a while with Angus and his wife who were exceptionally intrigued by their guest’s association with magic and illusion. Angus, in particular, was well informed about the great Jasper Maskelyne’s efforts in the Second World War for British military intelligence when, in the North African desert, he created mock-up vehicles to outwit Rommel.
A long and informed discussion was followed by Mrs Mackintosh deciding that an early night was what she desired. When she’d gone her husband suddenly came to a decision. Slapping his knee with a distinct thump he rose, faced Giles and, for a brief moment, remained silent before he spoke.
‘If you have no objection I’d like to let you see the rooms on the first floor. That will give you some idea of the layout of the place. You can then move around the place on your own tomorrow and research to your heart’s content.
Looking up at the caretaker Giles was conscious, for the first time, that this Highlander was wearing the kilt. The tartan-clad gentleman, with the military bearing, was now giving the impression that his trust in Giles was overwhelming. ‘The kilt is not the Mackintosh tartan, if you’re a little confused, Giles,’ the caretaker said as he noticed his guest’s look of surprise. ‘I’m wearing the Murray of Atholl tartan. The Atholl Highlanders, the regiment I was proud to serve in was in the private employ of the Duke of Atholl. That meant it was Europe’s only private army.’
‘I suppose that means it was never part of the British Army…one more important institution that never existed?’
‘You could say that…but we existed alright. The regiment was the first to attack the English at Culloden.’
‘Your offer to explore upstairs is welcome, Angus. I’d very much like to see other parts of this exceptional building even in the subdued lighting.’
‘Let’s go then. We’ll head back to the stairs beside the Orchestrion.’
Before they climbed the stairs Angus pointed towards a large fuse box. ‘The lighting is controlled from there,’ he said. ‘We try to keep it to an acceptable level without putting too much strain on the generators. In the evening and throughout the early morning darkness, the lighting is kept to a minimum until daylight appears.’
The stairs led to the first floor gallery within the Great Hall. It was there that Giles examined the large Japanese vases and the painting of Sir George Bullough. Even in the subdued light and despite the gap in their ages Giles was rapidly coming to like this giant playboy from a vastly different era and background. He was gradually coming to the conclusion that this man, of much foresight was, like the building itself, deserving of great sympathy. According to his host Sir George had died in 1939 while playing golf
‘The First World War obviously made a huge impact on visits by guests of Sir George and Lady Monica. It is her bedroom we’ll visit first.’
Lady Monica’s Bedroom was situated in the South-East corner of the house. It oozed her feminine charm as they entered a part of the house quite different.
‘Some reports state that Lady Monica was related to Napoleon but that appears to be another of the myths of the Castle folklore and its larger-than-life owners. As I keep saying…do not believe all you see or hear.’
There was a long pause as the caretaker studied Giles’ face. ‘Is there something wrong, Professor Dawson…you’ve suddenly gone a little pale?’
‘It’s just that saying of yours! I’ve heard those words several times before from an unidentified person. A person involved with the circus I’m investigating. If I knew who that person was I’d be much closer to the truth. The evidence may be staring me in the face…if I can only interpret it.’
‘Do you honestly think this house harbours the clues that you seek? Whatever mystery you’re attempting to solve, can you possibly find the clues here which can put that mystery to rest?’
‘Yes I do! Why else was I directed to come here? I firmly believe the answ
er to the puzzle is here but I’m equally convinced that whoever wanted me to visit and research this Edwardian time-capsule did not think I would be successful. I have to prove that person wrong!’
‘Perhaps the little grey cells of Agatha Christie’s Belgian sleuth may be what are required, Professor, don’t you think?’
‘You may not be too far from the truth, Mr. Mackintosh.’
‘The truth is never the easiest commodity to find. I realised that during my career in the Army. This castle has countless works of art; ornaments and paintings among them. In a moment you will see a nude painting of a woman. It is a three-quarter rear portrait purported to be that of Lady Monica. But is it Lady Monica or did someone else pose for the artist? Truth, or another myth, Professor?’
‘Listening to you as you expound about everything on show, I rather suspect you were well respected during your Army days, Angus?’
Angus smiled before answering. ‘Many in the regiment joined the 3rd Transvaal Scottish which took part in the relief of El Alamein with the Eighth Army. I reached the rank of Major before I retired…not Sergeant Major. A little bit further up the ladder you understand.’
‘The beam on Giles’ face matched that of his guide.’I think, from this moment on, you deserve to be addressed as Major Angus Mackintosh’
‘As you will, Professor! As you will!
The two men shook hands and were about to leave Lady Monica’s Bedroom when a deafening roar from the Orchestrion stormed and blasted their ears from below the stairs.
‘What the bloody hell!’ cursed an angry Major as, with a swirl of the kilt, he descended the stairs in double-quick time to try and discover exactly what had started the blaring music.
Left alone Giles made a mental note of the music. He recognised the prelude to Lohengrin and the wheels of cognition sprang into motion. The music stopped abruptly but into his brain was implanted one word. The word was the music’s composer. That word was Wagner.
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