by Simon Green
‘Of course, sir. There is a side room down here, on the left; only used for storage now.’
‘Show me,’ I said.
Jeeves started down the hall, and I picked the Colonel up. Everyone fell back, to give me plenty of room. I went after Jeeves. He stopped before one particular door, produced a large key ring with many oversized keys, and unlocked the door. He pushed it all the way open, and I carried the Colonel through. The room was dark and gloomy, and distinctly chilly after the warmth of the hall. It was full of piled-up old furniture and other junk. There was a table to one side, so I put the Colonel down on that. The body was still locked in its cross-legged position. I settled it carefully in place, and then took the head out of the lap and put it back where it belonged. The frost on the face was starting to melt, running down the impassive features like so many slow tears.
‘Sorry about this, Colonel,’ I said quietly. ‘I’ll come back when your body’s had time to thaw and lay you out more respectfully. I know you’re usually very firm about not interfering with evidence or crime scenes; but I couldn’t leave you outside. Alone. In the cold and the dark. Why am I here, Colonel? What did you bring me here to do? Was the danger aimed at you, all along, or were you killed trying to protect one of your family? I promise you; I will get to the truth of all this, Colonel … James.’
I left the room without looking back.
I stood thoughtfully in the hall as Jeeves locked the door. It was all very still, very quiet. I could just hear the murmur of the storm outside.
‘Who else has a key to this room, Jeeves?’
‘No one, sir. I have the only key. I am in charge of all the keys to this house.’
‘Then you hang on to them, and don’t let them out of your sight. Don’t let anyone else take them. No one is to go into this room until the police get here. For any reason.’
‘I feel I should point out, sir, that I work for Mister Belcourt,’ Jeeves said carefully. ‘But since those are very sensible instructions, I have no problem following them. Mister Belcourt … seems too upset to take charge, for the moment.’
I went back to join the others, who were still standing close together in the hall, looking at the spot where the Colonel’s body had been. A large patch of melted snow was soaking into the carpet.
Diana emerged from the drawing room, carrying two mugs of hot steaming liquid. She gave one to Penny, who made low murmurs of contentment as she warmed her hands on the mug, and then gave the other to me. She smiled weakly. ‘It’s just the hot toddy, I’m afraid. All I could lay my hands on, at short notice. You need something to warm you up.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Thank you, Diana.’
I sniffed at the dark steaming liquid, winced internally, and then knocked the stuff back in several quick gulps. A hearty glow coursed down my throat and built a fire in my stomach. Good stuff, in its own way. Penny tried to do the same, and then yelped as she all but scalded her mouth. I hadn’t realized it was that hot. I kept drinking, at a slower pace, until I’d finished it all, and then handed the mug back to Diana. Penny sipped doggedly at her toddy, glaring balefully at me over the rim of her mug. Colour was slowly coming back into her face, and the hands holding her mug weren’t shaking anywhere near as badly.
‘How could you drink this stuff so fast?’ said Penny. ‘It’s practically boiling!’
‘It was hot,’ I said. ‘We needed hot. And it doesn’t actually taste that bad.’
‘Yes, it does,’ Penny said firmly.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘I’ve tasted worse.’
‘I’d hate to think when,’ said Penny.
‘Drink your nice toddy,’ I said. ‘You need the heat.’
Walter stepped forward. He’d used the time to pull himself together again, and as head of the house he wanted answers. He fixed me with a fierce gaze. ‘What happened out there? Who did that to my son?’
While I was still considering how best to say what I knew, and what I suspected, Penny stepped in. She explained the circumstances behind our finding the snowman and what was inside it. She did a pretty good job, sticking to the facts even when they clearly upset her and the people listening. She didn’t mention my smelling blood, so I didn’t either.
Walter nodded slowly, struggling to take it all in. This kind of thing just didn’t happen, in his world. ‘We must call the police,’ he said firmly. ‘The killer could still be around here, somewhere.’
He hadn’t made the deduction yet: that the killer almost certainly had to be someone in the house. Given the weather, there was nowhere else they could be. When I looked around, it was clear to me everyone else had got it. Slowly dawning suspicions showed in all their faces. Except Jeeves, who seemed to be thinking hard.
‘Excuse me, Mister Belcourt,’ he said. ‘Unfortunately, I have to inform you that the landlines are down. I discovered that some time back. The storm, presumably.’
Everyone immediately thrust their hands into their pockets, digging for cellphones. Melanie got there first, but Walter snatched the phone out of her hand the moment she’d tapped in the emergency code. He was head of the house, so he had to take command.
‘Hello? Give me the police! This is an emergency … Come on, come on … Ah! Yes! I wish to report a murder! What? Oh yes; I am Walter Belcourt, of Belcourt Manor. My son has been killed!’
I could hear the voice at the other end quite clearly, even if the others couldn’t. So as they all watched impatiently, I just leant back against the wall and quietly listened in as the emergency operator put Walter through to the local police. Their response, though understandable, wasn’t what Walter wanted to hear.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ said a polite, overworked voice, ‘but there’s nothing we can do for the moment. We can’t get to you. It’s the storm, you see. No one’s seen anything like it. All the roads are blocked. Major, and minor. My entire force is out, stretched dangerously thin, doing what they can. I can’t get anyone to you until the weather’s calmed down.’
‘But my son has been murdered!’ said Walter.
‘Yes, sir, I understand that. I am sorry for your loss. But my men would probably be killed just trying to get to you! The conditions are impossible.’
‘Then get some snowploughs on the job!’ said Walter.
‘They’re all occupied, fighting to keep the main roads open, sir,’ said the voice. ‘We have to concentrate our resources where they can do the most good. Where they can save the most lives.’
‘Don’t you know who you’re talking to, man? Don’t you know who I am? This is Walter Belcourt!’
‘I am aware of that, sir, yes. I understand this must be very disturbing for you. For the moment, touch nothing, and try not to disturb the crime scene. We will get out to you as soon as we can.’
The phone went dead. Walter looked at it incredulously, and then thrust it back into Melanie’s hand.
‘Well?’ said Diana. ‘What did the police say? When are they coming?’
‘No one’s coming!’ Walter snapped. ‘We’re on our own … He hung up on me! On me! I’ll have his guts for this …’
‘But what did they say?’ said Khan. ‘Why isn’t anyone coming?’
‘Because of the weather, you damned fool!’ said Walter. His face was dangerously flushed.
‘How long before they can get to us?’ said Melanie.
‘They don’t know,’ said Walter. He suddenly sounded very tired. ‘My son is dead, and no one’s doing anything.’
‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Jeeves. ‘I was listening to the radio, down in the kitchen with Cook. According to the latest weather reports, the storm will be getting worse before it gets better. It is expected to last all the way through the evening and into the night, and possibly well into tomorrow morning.’
‘We’re cut off!’ said Melanie, her voice rising sharply. ‘We’re on our own!’
‘Hell with this,’ said Khan. ‘I’m not staying here! I’m leaving! Right now …’
‘Damn right,’ said R
oger. ‘I’ll take my chances on the roads.’
Diana looked to Sylvia, who nodded quickly. ‘We’ll be safer on the roads than trapped here in this house with a murderer.’
They were all moving towards the front door when Jeeves moved forward, to block their way. His solid presence was enough to bring them all to a sudden halt.
‘Get out of the way, man!’ said Khan. ‘We’re leaving, and no one’s going to stop us!’
‘I’m afraid you can’t leave,’ said Jeeves. And there was something in the way he said it that gave them all pause. I studied Jeeves thoughtfully. He was becoming more interesting by the moment.
Surprisingly, Roger was the first to challenge the butler. ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ he said angrily. ‘Who are you to tell us what we can and can’t do?’
‘Oh, don’t be such a drip, Roger,’ said Penny.
‘You stay out of this, Penny,’ said Roger, reddening despite himself.
‘It is not my place to give you orders, sir,’ said Jeeves, in his most calm and reasonable tone. ‘It is, rather, a matter of unfortunate circumstances. Your cars have all been parked outside the house for some time now, in sub-zero temperatures. Being buried under a thick layer of snow may have helped to insulate them … but even if you could get your engines to start, the drive is completely blocked with snow. The outside roads will undoubtedly be even worse. Local radio was quite firm on the subject; no one should venture out in the storm, or try to travel anywhere, until the weather improves.’
I could see the resolution going out of Khan and Roger’s faces as they thought about it. Sylvia still looked ready to have a go, but Diana was holding on to her companion’s arm with both hands and shaking her head.
‘Jeeves is right,’ I said. ‘I had to struggle to get up the drive, and that was hours ago.’
‘Then we’ll walk,’ said Khan, drawing himself up to his full height. Doing his best to convince himself. ‘As long as we dress up right, and step it out …’
‘Don’t be a damned fool, Alex,’ said Walter. His voice was just a growl, openly contemptuous. ‘It’s more than four miles to the nearest village. Across fields with no landmarks. You can’t follow the roads, because they’ll have disappeared under the snow. You’d freeze to death.’
‘You see?’ said Melanie, wringing her hands together. ‘I was right! We’re trapped here. With a killer hiding among us!’
She turned to Walter, expecting him to comfort her, but he was just staring at nothing, struggling with his thoughts. He’d been through too many shocks in a short period, and I could see the concentration fading in and out in his face.
‘Why would anyone want to kill my son?’ he said, querulously.
One by one, everyone turned to look at me. All I could do was shrug and shake my head. There was nothing I could say that would help.
‘Did James have … enemies?’ said Khan.
‘Everyone has enemies,’ I said. ‘Question is, did he have enemies here?’
‘What are you saying?’ said Khan.
‘You can’t really believe one of us wanted the man dead!’ said Roger.
‘Why not?’ I said.
I looked around. People were clinging to each other, comforting one another as best they could. Melanie clung determinedly on to Walter, who was pulling himself back together through sheer force of will because he was damned if he would let his son down. Diana and Sylvia huddled together like frightened children, drawing strength from each other. Roger had a protective arm across Penny’s shoulders, holding her close, glaring around as though he’d fight anyone who dared threaten her. She let him, because he needed to do it. Khan stood alone, scowling thoughtfully. He didn’t seem too bothered by the Colonel’s sudden death; but then, he wouldn’t. He’d worked for Black Heir. And finally there was Jeeves, standing alone, calm and poised as always, looking around at the others in the same way I was. Looking for a killer’s eyes in a familiar face. He caught me staring at him and just nodded, briefly. There was a sober, professional air to the man in a hallway where hysteria was hanging dangerously close on the air, just looking for a way in.
‘What are we going to do?’ said Melanie, in a voice quite a bit higher than it needed to be.
‘We have a murderer among us,’ Penny said steadily. ‘And we have no choice but to find him ourselves. It’s the only way to be safe. We have to find him before he can kill again, maybe kill all of us, to cover his tracks. We can do this! It’s not like he can go anywhere; he’s as trapped in this house as the rest of us!’
I smiled at her admiringly. Good to see someone keeping their head. Everyone else was just waiting for somebody to take the lead. It was clear none of them liked the idea that someone they knew was a murderer.
I looked at Walter. ‘Help is a long way off. How secure are we here?’
Walter nodded briskly, coming back to himself now he had a chance to take charge. ‘Yes! Of course … Well; we’re safe enough from the storm in here. The outer walls are good thick stone; built to keep out the cold. As long as we keep the fires going, we should be snug as a bug in a rug. The pipes are all lagged … and we have our own generator, for electricity! And of course we have a hell of a lot of food and drink laid in, for Christmas. Enough to keep us going for days. And we have weapons!’
He looked meaningfully to Jeeves, who nodded and stood up a little straighter. And just like that, he didn’t look like a butler any more. He held himself differently, in the experienced military manner I’d seen before. His servility was gone, like the act it always was, replaced by a cold-eyed professionalism.
‘Ladies and gentlemen; I am not a butler. I was hired by Mister Belcourt to act as one for this weekend, while also serving as his personal bodyguard. My job is to keep people alive, and I’m very good at it. And like all bodyguards, I am armed.’
He brought out his hidden gun and showed it to everyone. He held the Smith & Wesson .45 with an easy, practised familiarity. Everyone looked at the gun, and then looked at Jeeves. They didn’t seem too sure as to whether the man with the gun made them feel safer, or not. And then they all looked at each other, as though trying to decide who else might be pretending to be something they weren’t. Most of them looked at me with open suspicion.
‘Why did you hire a bodyguard, Walter?’ said Melanie. She sounded honestly puzzled. ‘You never said anything to me about needing a bodyguard!’
‘I didn’t want you to worry, dear,’ said Walter, patting her hand absently. ‘It was just for the holidays. All businessmen have enemies; you know that.’
‘But why now, Daddy?’ said Penny.
Walter didn’t answer her directly, but his eyes did seem to linger on Khan for a moment. ‘There are more weapons in the house, for those who feel the need,’ Walter said loudly. ‘Old family weapons. Look around you! Swords and axes and pikes. Easy enough to get down, and still in good enough shape to scare any villain into keeping his distance! Eh?’
We all looked at the old weapons on their wall plaques, but no one made any move to take one. It seemed no one felt the need … just yet.
‘So!’ said Walter. ‘We’re perfectly safe in here from the storm, and we’re not helpless! We can look after ourselves.’
‘It also means our hidden killer has access to an endless supply of killing tools,’ I said.
Khan looked at me sharply. ‘You really believe one of us killed James?’
‘Who else is there?’ I said.
Sylvia suddenly stabbed an accusing finger at me. Her raised voice was sharp, even spiteful. ‘Everything was fine here until you arrived! Come on, people; he’s the only one here that none of us knows! Does anyone know him from before?’
‘He found James’ body!’ said Penny.
‘Is that supposed to clear him?’ said Roger.
‘If he was the murderer, he only had to leave his kill hidden,’ Penny said coldly, throwing off Roger’s protective arm.
‘And given the state of the body, James must ha
ve been dead for some time,’ said Jeeves. ‘Long before Ishmael turned up.’
‘He could have been … outside, skulking around,’ said Khan. ‘Killed James, and then hid outside, before making his appearance.’
‘Not in this weather, he couldn’t,’ said Jeeves. ‘No; I would have to say that in my professional opinion, Ishmael is the least likely suspect.’
‘But isn’t that who the killer always turns out to be, in murder mysteries?’ said Diana, with a short, bitter laugh. ‘I feel like a character in an Agatha Christie novel! Which is never good for a minor character …’
‘I am not a minor character!’ Melanie said immediately. ‘Walter; tell that woman I am not a minor character!’
‘I never read any of the novels,’ said Penny. ‘Though I did follow most of the stories on television …’
‘Same here,’ I said. ‘Which Miss Marple did you prefer? I always had a soft spot for Geraldine McEwan, myself.’
‘She was far too nice,’ said Penny.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘That’s what I liked about her.’
Jeeves cleared his throat meaningfully, and we all turned to look at him. ‘If we could keep to the matter at hand … Ishmael; you had time to study James’ body. How do you think he was killed?’
‘You all saw the severed head,’ I said. ‘It looked to me like his head had been sawed off.’
Walter flinched. Everyone reacted, even Jeeves.
‘You can’t just say things like that!’ protested Melanie. She pressed a hand to her mouth, as though to keep from being sick.
‘Why not?’ I said. ‘That’s what happened. There were no other obvious wounds. It seems likely he was drugged, or otherwise incapacitated, and then his head was cut off afterwards. Much more likely than a fight. The Colonel was quite capable of looking out for himself. I can’t see why the killer felt the need to cut off the head … Normally, that’s done to help prevent identification … But here, the head was left with the body. Strange …’
‘I still want to know: who locked the front door?’ Penny said loudly.
‘What?’ said Walter. ‘What are you talking about, girl?’