Gauntlet of Fear

by David Cargill

  ‘That’s very true, Giles.’ Angus continued where his wife had left off. ‘Sir William was very much involved with cinematography theatres but was most noted as Billy Bass for his ownership of racehorses. He was a steward of The Jockey Club and had success in the Cesarewitch at Newmarket.’

  ‘Was Sir William married?’

  It was Mrs Mackintosh’s turn to enter the conversation once more. ‘Yes he was,’ she said. ‘He was married to a leading sportswoman, Lady Noreen Hastings. Sir William outlived her by several years and, as he had no family, when he died he left his fortune to his wife’s nephew, the racehorse trainer, Peter Hastings. Peter later changed his name to Hastings Bass.’

  The wheels were turning again as Giles listened to the story about the racehorse trainer. Two names once more.

  When lunch was over Giles informed his caretaker host that he wanted to spend a bit longer in and around the Dining Room. He would also like to have another look at the Library to avoid missing anything. Angus declared there was no problem. Giles could spend as much time as was required in any of the rooms. It would be a shame if he left this house without finding the data he required.

  The first return visit was to the Library. Once inside he closed the door and had another look at the vast collection of books. The place was steeped in history; the historic involvement of a man who’d travelled the world, been involved with war, and yet was a passionate owner of racehorses and had resided in the home of the racing world: Newmarket.

  It was that thought that brought his attention away from the volumes around the room; his eyes concentrating on objects he’d missed on his first visit. Those objects were a set of racing plates; the shoes racehorses wore when they went into the serious business of competing on the turf. As he lifted a shoe Giles thought Freddie would love this. The plates had been worn by Ballymacad when he won the Wartime National at Gatwick racecourse. Next time he saw his ex-RAF friend he must tell him about this and research a bit more about the Grand National that apparently never was.

  The walk to the Dining Room was accomplished with ease. Giles seemed to know his way around the ground floor as if he’d stayed on many occasions.

  Sitting down in one of the chairs around the dining table he contemplated those lines in the circus conundrum that mentioned the seats of Rhouma.

  ‘The Dining Room has to be the place,’ he muttered under his breath and looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. He needn’t have worried. The place was quiet. Deadly quiet; his thoughts turning to Allison whose final bow at the circus was on a stretcher.

  The light from outside appeared to struggle to enter the Dining Room windows and the shadows took on strange shapes giving the empty space a feeling that it was filling with spectral figures bent on mischief. Giles tried to stifle the shudders flaunting fleetingly over his flesh.

  He took a deep breath and, giving himself a vigorous rubbing with his hands, brought the circulation back into his fingers. He sighed, looked around the room at the fireplace, the alcove room where the piper may have sat when guests were at dinner, the magnificent table and the seats of the Rhouma where Sir William Bass and Lady Noreen Hastings had sat, along with Sir George and Lady Monica and their invited ladies and gentlemen…and possibly even King Edward V11 himself.

  With his eyes closed Giles concentrated on the room he was in. His trance-like state of mind searched for some divine intervention that would focus on the secret that might lead him to the conclusion he needed.

  His gut feeling was…that secret was here. It was here and not far from where he sat. Something someone had said? Was that it? Some seemingly incongruous remark he’d heard but taken out of context?

  Powers of recall went into action and, as the hours went by and the evening gloom approached, Giles came gradually to a conclusion that awakened him with a sudden start. The name Billy Bass etched into his brain.

  Was it possible? Words that someone had said not so long ago came flooding back to him. Were they words that could have been applied to a place close to the seats of Rhouma where he was seated? And there was just a slim chance that, if those words could be connected to a person on Ramon’s list of suspects, the person that Giles had a suspicion about might not be too far away from the truth. He would then see a reason for Allison’s tragic death plus the inevitability of at least one more killing.

  The flicker of a smile on Giles’ face, as he rose and made his way to dinner, was deceptive. The smile wasn’t there because of his prognosis of further murder. It was because of what Freddie would have said had he been in the room listening to Giles’ thoughts.

  Freddie would have said “You’re talking to yourself again, old son!”

  Chapter 14

  TWO CAN PLAY AT THIS GAME

  When dinner was over Giles excused himself and retired to the oak bedroom to mull over his eventful stay at the Castle.

  It was getting very dark outside and the weather was deteriorating by the minute. Heavy rain was cascading down the windows and Giles was doubtful if a sailing to the mainland tomorrow would be possible. The caretaker, however, was optimistic that a contingency plan could be put into operation as several Nature Conservancy staff had business elsewhere.

  Taking off his shoes Giles lay back on the bed and drifted off into sleep. A strange thought, entering his mind before sleep enveloped him, was that in a lifetime the average person spent almost a third of that time with his eyes shut. The important thing for him now was to make good use of that time by not only recharging the batteries but allowing the brain to overcome problems and bring them to a successful outcome.

  He must have been asleep for some considerable time for when he looked at his watch, in the dim light, it was almost midnight. His fuddled brain took a few seconds to realise what had wakened him. It was the sound of his door closing. No doubt about it…someone had been in his room. But this time he had been in the room with the intruder and that intruder had now left in a hurry.

  He got off the bed, dashed to the door, opened it and glanced down the oak room corridor. The corridor was empty but a door at the far end was being shut. He scampered past the oak bedrooms on the left and the stained glass windows, which overlooked the courtyard on the right. When he reached the staircase leading down to the kitchen area he realised for the first time that he was in his stocking soles. That was just right he thought for he was making no noise.

  The lighting on the staircase was so bad that it meant braving the dimly lit stairs to the floor below without losing his footing. He was positive that whoever had entered his room had gone down before him but he had a spooky sensation that an unwanted presence was creeping up behind him. That sensation was so strong it had an unnerving effect on him and he gripped the banister with increased firmness.

  On reaching the ground floor he heard another door close. He wasn’t far behind and he hurried his step along past the kitchen area, through a door and into the main corridor with the Dining Room on his left and the Billiard and Smoking Room on his right.

  He could just make out a figure at the far end close to the Orchestrion but, as he hurried, he realised he was too late. The lights suddenly went out and, as he stumbled and fell in the darkness, he knew the figure had tampered with the fuse box.

  Having bruised a knee he got to his feet but, with the open archways of the Great Hall not allowing him to have a solid wall to get his bearings, he blundered through one of the gaps and, reaching out with hands and arms as he fell again, he found himself lying close to something stretched out on the floor.

  At that moment the lights came on again and, raising himself, he found he was staring into the lifeless head… of a lion whose skin was spread over the Hall floor.

  Bringing his head and shoulders upwards and leaning on an elbow Giles could observe that the area close to the fuse box was entirely clear. There was no sign of the intruder but the noise in his head was deafening…only the noise wasn’t in his head. It was coming from the Orchestrion and it was the
prelude to Lohengrin. Wagner again! Was someone doing everything to misdirect him in the same way as a stage magician uses artistic skill? Or was this a genuine attempt to put him off the scent?

  Making his painful way towards the stairs Giles switched the music off and started to climb to the floor above. His stocking-soled feet made no sound in the dramatic silence that now existed and that brought back a memory of a previous soundless experience during his attempt to solve the Lockerbie mystery.

  Putting that memory out of his mind he made his way back to the oak bedroom. It seemed to take an age and, being physically exhausted, he wasted no time in preparing for bed. Before passing out his final thoughts were of the action-packed witching hour that had just passed.

  Dreams can work in mysterious ways. They can descend into grotesque nightmares causing blood pressure and breathing to go haywire which can leave the sleeper near to cardiac arrest. They can also go to the other extreme and induce clear thinking combined with compensating powers of reasoning.

  Despite the distressing events of the evening before sleep took over, Giles’ dream covered the other happenings during his stay at Kinloch Castle. Certain words and places jelled into a comprehension that somehow endorsed some of his previous assumptions.

  If, as some have said, dreams invade the mind just before the sleeper awakes, Giles would certainly subscribe to that for he awoke feeling refreshed and went to breakfast with a joie de vivre outlook.

  Major Angus had been told that the boat that was to take the Nature Conservancy staff to Mallaig was not going to sail because of the bad weather, but a small covered power boat was coming from another of the Small Isles and would make the sailing.

  There had also been a telephone call from Fort William to enquire about travel arrangements and the lady, making the call, had been told that Professor Dawson would be in Mallaig sometime before noon.

  With lots of bustling Giles packed his bag and brought it downstairs to be told by a girl on the staff that in about an hour a van would take him to the jetty. He thought he’d take a last look at the place and wandered along the downstairs rooms. Why had he come here? It was patently obvious that the circus riddle was responsible and he could only surmise that someone in the circus was not only hounding Senhor Ramon but believed that Ramon was wrong to hire Giles. It was up to Giles to make that person pay for that incorrect belief.

  As he paid a final visit to the area around the Dining Room, certain facets from his dream came flooding back convincing him that during his brief visit some words and places had important meaning. He would now expound his theories to Laura and to Freddie during their next get-togethers.

  A final farewell to Major Angus and his wife after a light breakfast and a sincere thank you for their helpful support, was followed by a walk out to the van and a last look at a time-capsule of how the wealthy lived their lives during the reign of King Edward VII.

  It took more than two hours to cross to the fishing village of Mallaig but in that time the boat was pounded by heavy seas as it bounced its way across the water.

  Windscreen wipers were constantly in use, struggling to clear the deluge of rain and the crashing waves. The extremely poor visibility and the up and down and side to side movement of the small boat as it ploughed its way through the torrent of water made it difficult for the skipper to navigate with any degree of certainty. The man at the helm however was experienced and knew this stretch like the back of his hand. After moments when the boat felt like it might break up it was then in calmer water in the Sound of Sleat – between Skye and the mainland round Mallaig. The outline of the fishing village came into view and the sandstone battlements of Kinloch Castle were a distant memory of the past.

  Once in the harbour and sheltered from the storm Giles spotted Laura’s colourful sports car. With his heart-beat increasing, like the acceleration of Laura’s car when they left Lockerbie railway station the first time they met as adults, he climbed the steps to the top of the pier and watched his fiancée coming toward him.

  They were in each other’s arms in a jiffy and their wet faces were soon in pleasurable contact. The weather conditions still raged beyond the harbour, but the rain that made standing outside uncomfortable, had almost stopped.

  They were hardly in the car when Laura looked quizzically at Giles. ‘When I called you yesterday you sounded rather remote. You said you would explain later. Were you really expecting another call?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t but there had already been a call the day before I arrived and the caller apparently sounded as if he or she was speaking from beyond the grave. I didn’t want another call from the same person.’

  ‘You’re not serious, Giles? You’re talking in riddles again. How could you know someone was calling as if from the other side when you weren’t there? And why the he or she part? Was the sex of the caller not evident?’

  ‘It was the caretaker who answered and the caller, who mentioned the name Allison, spoke in a whisper that made it difficult to know whether it was a man or a woman who was speaking’

  ‘But why should a girl’s name make you think…?’

  ‘Because, my dear Laura, Allison died a few days ago and I’m very much afraid it may not have been an accident. Now I don’t believe the dead can lift the telephone and dial a number in the West Highlands that even I don’t know. But someone at the circus who knew there had been a fatality called and tried to act as if…’ He never finished the sentence.

  ‘Let’s have some lunch and we can go over what you’ve just been telling me.’ Laura said. ‘After that we’ll drive to Fort William where I can pamper you before we head back to Lockerbie.’

  ‘Good idea my love. But I think we could stop off in Glasgow and choose a ring.’

  Laura smiled, leaned over and kissed Giles on the cheek. She started the car, and drove into the main street where she parked the car overlooking the bay.

  A short walk took them to the bar restaurant of a local inn and, after enjoying some of the best fish and chips they’d had in ages, they continued the conversation they’d started at the pier.

  ‘You say there’s been a death at the circus?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not just a death. It’s more like a killing.’

  ‘You mean a murder, Giles?’

  ‘I’m afraid so, Laura.’

  ‘I’m thinking back to what you said when we were together at Maskelyne Hall.’

  ‘What did I say?’

  You said you expected the death of someone but didn’t have any idea who might die or where or when it might happen.’

  ‘That about sums it up, Laura. Allison would not have been my idea of the likely victim of murder. Nor did I think it would happen the way it did. The mystery goes even deeper…I haven’t the foggiest idea how it could be done or who could have done it. I must be losing my grip.’

  ‘I don’t think you are, Giles. Losing your grip, I mean. There are so many mysteries and I just hope I don’t have another one for you. What I’m about to ask can clear things up if I get the right answer?’

  ‘Ask away, Laura!’

  ‘While I was in hospital, did you ever mention to anyone at Maskelyne Hall the name of the circus you’re investigating?’

  A puzzled expression came over Giles’ face as he pondered for a moment. ‘I believe I mentioned it to George. I may have done so to your mother, though I doubt it. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Well I’m pretty sure you’ve never told me the name of the circus but, when I drove all the way from Lockerbie, a small van seemed to be following me. I came across it everywhere I went. The last time I saw it was close to where we’ll shortly be staying…Torcastle. And that’s really out of the way.’

  ‘A mere coincidence, Laura. I’m sure you’re putting too much emphasis on something that has a perfectly logical explanation. Why are you so suspicious?’

  ‘You could be right, Giles. It was the name on the van that gave me concern. The name Circus was on the van.’

  ‘S
o you put two and two together and thought you were being followed by someone from the circus I’m investigating. Did you not consider it might be a small circus searching various areas for one night stands.’ Giles paused giving his fiancée a gentle smile of encouragement. ‘Was the name of the circus on the van?’

  ‘Yes there was but it meant nothing to me since I never knew the name of the circus you were involved with. You never mentioned it to me.’

  The muscles of Giles’ jaw tightened and he looked at Laura with apprehension written all over his face. ‘What was the name on the van, Laura?’ he asked gripping her hands tightly.’

  ‘Tropicana!’ said Laura. ‘It was Circus Tropicana!’

  Nodding his head in a kind of resigned fashion Giles gave Laura’s hands a gentle squeeze. ‘You were being followed, Laura!’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Someone would make a shrewd guess, if you were going north, you’d be going to meet me. They’re keeping a close eye on me Laura. I was followed on the cruise ship and I’m sure I was followed on Rum. I’m a threat and they know that.’

  ‘You keep saying they, Giles. Do you think there’s more than one person involved?’

  ‘I can’t answer that with any certainty. I’m not sure if it’s a man or a woman or if it’s more than one I’m up against, but my short stay on the Isle of Rum has given me an idea that coincides with my previous thinking.’

  ‘Tell me, Giles. If I was being followed why would the name be on the van? Surely that gives the game away?’

  ‘Yes it does, darling. But I think someone wants to let me know I’m being followed. He or she is trying to alarm me and make things difficult. And the closer I get to the truth the more worried that person will become. Two can play at this game!’

  The journey of forty or so miles to their destination was accomplished in comfort despite the stormy weather. The sports car was driven at a speed much slower than previous experiences due to the single track. The passing places had to be used with consideration for other drivers and though Giles was near to sleep he was able to admire the skill of Laura at the wheel.