Secrets of Cavendon

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  “A psychopath!” Charlie repeated, immediately looking worried. “Oh my God.”

  “Where is Alicia? In London?”

  “No, she’s at Cavendon.”

  “Tell her to stay there. I want to know a lot more about Fennell. I’ll put a tail on him. Where does he live?”

  Charlie told him, then asked, “You don’t think Alicia is in danger, do you?”

  “No, I don’t, not at the moment anyway. Nevertheless, it’s best to be careful.”

  * * *

  Alicia and Cecily had just met for tea in the yellow sitting room, when Gwen came in carrying her cat, Cleopatra.

  “If you don’t put that cat down and let it walk, I shall send her to the cat orphanage,” Cecily announced, staring at her nine-year-old. “And where will that leave you?”

  “At the cat orphanage with Cleo. Where is it?” Gwen asked.

  “Don’t be cheeky, Gwen, you know I don’t like bad behavior, rudeness!” Cecily said quietly. “You’re damaging the cat.”

  Gwen stared at her mother, looking alarmed. “What do you mean?”

  Before Cecily could answer, Alicia took over. “A cat or a dog is like a human being in many ways. We have legs, and they have legs, and we must all walk. If we don’t, we get stiff, and our muscles get weak, and soon we are helpless,” Alicia explained. “Now, you don’t want Cleo to be a helpless little thing, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. I love her, Alicia.”

  “Then put her on the floor. Anyway, she shouldn’t be on your lap when we’re eating. That’s bad manners.” Alicia glanced at Cecily.

  “Well said,” Cecily responded, and smiled to herself as Gwen placed the cat on the floor, somewhat reluctantly.

  “Look, you see, she’s now running away!” Gwen cried, and made to get up.

  Alicia prevented her from leaving the chair. “Stop being so silly, so possessive of the cat. She’s got to run and jump and be happy. Holding her tightly next to your body is making her unhappy.”

  “Oh.” Gwen stared after the cat, who raced around the room, then jumped up onto the top of the sofa and sat staring at them.

  “You see, she hasn’t left,” Alicia said. “She’s here, watching you, because she loves you, too.”

  This made Gwen smile, and much to Cecily’s relief her daughter sat properly in her chair when Eric came to serve tea.

  “When is Uncle Miles coming back from London?” Alicia asked Cecily between sips of her tea.

  “Tomorrow morning, in time for lunch. He and Harry have gone to see Christopher Longdon about hiring some more veterans. There are still several empty farms on the estate, you know.”

  “Uncle Miles told me the two families who are already here have become really good at their jobs.”

  “They have, indeed. It’s made a big difference to our agricultural output, Alicia.”

  Turning to Eric, who was offering her tea sandwiches, Cecily took one, and thanked him. “You can leave the plate here, Eric,” she said pleasantly. “We’ll help ourselves, and leave the pastries as well, please.”

  “Yes, m’lady.” He smiled in his genial way and left the room.

  Gwen pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and said, “I made the shopping list, Mummy, as you asked me to do. Shall I read it out to you?”

  “If you must,” Cecily murmured, thankful that Alicia had spoken up about Gwen’s constant hugging of the cat. It infuriated Miles, the way she took it everywhere with her.

  “I need two white cotton blouses, two pairs of white socks. And a new pair of slippers. Oh, and Daddy needs new slippers. His are worn out.” Gwen put the paper back in her pocket.

  Puzzled, Cecily stared at her daughter and frowned. “No they’re not. His slippers are fairly new.”

  “No, they’re old,” Gwen said, shaking her head. “I saw his slippers. It was the night Aunt Charlotte died—” Gwen stopped speaking with abruptness, remembering she shouldn’t have been up in the middle of the night.

  Cecily frowned. “What do you mean, about the night Aunt Charlotte died?”

  Gwen bit her lip, looking slightly fearful, and said in a low voice, “Please don’t be angry, Mummy, will you? Say you won’t.”

  “I won’t be angry, just tell me about Daddy’s slippers. Come on, darling, don’t be silly. I won’t be angry.”

  “It was because of Cleo. You know my little cat was sick then. And I kept going to the kitchen to check on her, up and down the back staircase. One time, when I was going down again, I was kneeling on a step, pulling the door closed, and I saw Daddy coming out of Aunt Charlotte’s room.”

  There was total silence for a few minutes before Cecily said, “I understand, Gwen. Let me ask you a question. Did Daddy see you?”

  “No, and I didn’t see him. Just his slippers. Then I closed the door and ran down to the kitchen.” Gwen paused, nodding her head, adding, “And they were old slippers,” she insisted.

  Alicia started to say something and stopped, looking across at Cecily. “I feel a bit strange,” she murmured. “Do you think Gwen could go and ask Eric for a glass of water? I’m sure he’s in the dining room pantry.”

  Cecily nodded, aware that something was wrong. Alicia was extremely white, and there was an anxious expression in her eyes. “Gwen, please find Eric and ask him to bring a glass of water for Alicia.”

  “Yes, Mummy,” the child said, and ran out of the room.

  “Whatever’s the matter, Alicia?” Cecily asked, staring at her niece. “You’re as white as a sheet. Do you feel unwell, faint?”

  For a split second Alicia couldn’t answer, and then she said in a low voice, “It was Adam Fennell leaving Aunt Charlotte’s room. You see, he took those old slippers out of the hamper for the Salvation Army.”

  Cecily gaped at her, incredulity settling on her face. “You can’t be serious. Why would a man like Fennell take old slippers? Whatever for?”

  “Because of the family crest embroidered on the front. When I saw him wearing them in his bedroom I was furious. He wouldn’t put them back in the hamper. He kept them.”

  “I would have been as angry as you. Collecting trophies, was that it? Wanting to be like an earl. Oh my God! Now I understand. What was Fennell doing in Aunt Charlotte’s room? In the middle of the night?” Cecily was shocked when she realized what this could mean, what the implications were. She felt a tightness in her chest. “Where are the slippers now, Alicia? Do you know?”

  “Probably in the bedroom you assigned to him. I warned him not to take them out of this house,” Alicia mumbled, and she sat back, feeling overwhelmed by this new development.

  Cecily nodded. “Are you thinking what I am?”

  “Yes, I am. He might have hurt Aunt Charlotte. Maybe her death wasn’t an accident at all. Perhaps he killed her.”

  At this moment, Eric returned with a glass of water on a tray. After giving it to Alicia, he spoke to Cecily.

  “Mr. Charlie is on the telephone in the library, your ladyship. He wishes to speak to you and also to Miss Alicia.”

  “Thank you, Eric.” Looking over at Gwen, who had followed Eric into the yellow sitting room, Cecily said, “We’ll be back in a moment, darling. Finish your tea.”

  “Yes, Mummy. Can I have a cream bun?”

  “Yes,” Cecily said hastily, and hurried out after Alicia, followed by Eric, who had retrieved the glass of water. He said, “I’ll look after Lady Gwen, your ladyship.”

  “Thank you, Eric.”

  Cecily flew across the library floor and sat down in the chair at the desk. “Hello, Charlie. It’s Cecily.”

  “Hello, Aunt Ceci, I just wanted to ask you if Uncle Howard can come up to Cavendon tomorrow? There’s been a strange development about Adam Fennell.”

  “Of course Uncle Howard can come. But why?”

  “Could I speak to Alicia first, if you don’t mind? I need to tell her something rather important.”

  “She’s right here.” Cecily stood up, handed the receiver to Ali
cia, and pressed her down into the chair.

  “What’s happened, Charlie?” Alicia asked, anxiety echoing in her voice.

  “Adam Fennell doesn’t exist. There is no such person,” Charlie told her.

  “What do you mean? Please explain, Charlie.”

  “I’ve had Elise Steinbrenner checking him out. There wasn’t much in our Clippings Library, just pieces about his films, his career. So, being a good reporter, Elise decided to go over to Somerset House, where every birth, marriage, and death for the whole country is registered. It’s possible to purchase a copy of any of those certificates, and anyone can do a search there—”

  “And there is no birth certificate for Adam Fennell? That’s what you’re saying?”

  “I am. I had lunch with Uncle Howard today, filled him in about Fennell’s behavior, his blackmailing us. Although it was his day off, he decided to go to his office at Scotland Yard. He wanted to check out Fennell, look for his name attached to any form of criminality. But he couldn’t find a thing. However, he decided he wanted to come up to Cavendon tomorrow, just to search the bedroom Fennell used and take fingerprints. Fennell’s prints are bound to be there. He said they’re important to have.”

  “I understand, and just listen to this.” Swiftly and very precisely, Alicia told her brother about Gwen’s late-night meanderings and the old slippers.

  “My God, this information certainly changes things! Could Fennell have hurt her? But why would he have been in Aunt Charlotte’s bedroom in the first place?”

  “Aunt Cecily and I haven’t figured that out yet. Anyway, speak with her, Charlie. Tell her what you’ve just told me.”

  After handing the phone to Cecily, Alicia moved closer to the side table and picked up the glass of water. She felt sick, had developed a pounding headache.

  Sitting down in an armchair, she closed her eyes, her heart aching. What if Fennell had killed her aunt? It was her fault. She had brought him into the midst of her family. How could she ever forgive herself? But why would he kill Aunt Charlotte? For what reason? There wasn’t one, in her opinion. Alicia knew that unless she found the answers to these questions, she would never have peace for the rest of her life.

  Forty-three

  Cecily went back to the yellow dining room, leaving Alicia in the library, speaking to Charlie on the phone. Gwen looked up when her mother came into the room. “I didn’t mean to upset you about the slippers, Mummy.”

  “You didn’t upset me, darling. In fact, you’ve been very helpful. And thank you for that.”

  Within minutes, Eric appeared with a fresh pot of hot tea and clean cups and saucers. A moment later, he was pouring the tea for Cecily, explaining, “Miss Clegg apologizes for not saying good-bye, but she was running late, your ladyship. She has left Lady Gwen’s homework in the children’s playroom upstairs.”

  “Thank you, Eric, and thank you for the hot tea. You might look in on Miss Alicia, and ask her to join me, would you, please?”

  “I will, m’lady.”

  Gwen said, “I like Miss Clegg more than Mrs. Plumpton; she’s better.”

  Cecily looked at her daughter intently, asked, “In what way?”

  “Miss Clegg is cleverer, and she speaks clearly, tells me things in a way I can understand. Anyway, she’s a good teacher and younger.”

  Cecily nodded and glanced at the door as Alicia walked in, looking more pinched and whiter than ever.

  Eric was right behind her, and he immediately poured a cup of tea for her, and asked her if she needed anything else.

  She shook her head and thanked him.

  After informing Cecily that he would be in the butler’s pantry near the dining room if she needed him, he left.

  Alicia said, “That was a shock, hearing there wasn’t such a person. It totally took me by surprise. I was reeling for a few minutes.”

  “Have you spoken to Felix and Constance about that person?” Cecily asked, guarding her words with Gwen present in the room. “Perhaps they might know more than us, and yes, I’ll say it was quite a surprise. Actually, it was a huge shock. Have we all been blind, deaf, and dumb?”

  “I have, and it’s certainly all my fault. I shouldn’t have introduced him here.” Alicia looked at Cecily and her eyes brimmed with tears. Finding her handkerchief, she blew her nose and took control of herself, not wishing to break down in front of her youngest cousin, Gwen.

  “Can I leave now, Mummy?” Gwen asked. “I want to look at my homework. And can I take Cleopatra with me? Please.”

  “Yes and yes, and again, thank you. I shall buy your father a new pair of slippers, so you can be relaxed about that problem.”

  Gwen laughed as she ran out, calling the cat to come with her.

  Once they were alone, Alicia said, “I think I must tell Felix and Constance that I’ve broken it off with Adam Fennell, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I would if I were you. Better get your story out first, before he tries to say he broke it off with you. And now that we are finding out strange things about him, I’m glad you did call it off.”

  “So am I. Charlie told Uncle Howard that Fennell blackmailed us, because Charlie thought he ought to be absolutely truthful since he’d asked for Uncle Howard’s help. He told me Uncle Howard said Fennell was a con man.”

  “I suppose Uncle Howard didn’t like hearing that, about your generosity. Cops never approve if someone pays blackmail. What I don’t understand is how Adam Fennell knew anything about the attack on Daphne so many years ago.”

  “He told us that it was Bryan Mellor who mentioned it to him, and that Mellor got it from a member of the Ingham family.”

  “But nobody knew about Daphne being raped when she was seventeen, Alicia, honestly, they didn’t. Just my mother and father, and Aunt Charlotte. Only three Swanns, and later I knew because they needed me to make clothes for her, clothes that concealed her pregnancy. Oh, and of course, her parents knew.”

  “What a terrible thing to happen to my mother and at Cavendon, her own home.” Alicia’s eyes filled again and she patted her face with her hankie.

  “I’m so happy you went to see your parents, Alicia, and what a coincidence that you’d already planned the trip to Zurich, because of your worries about their health.”

  “I told Charlie that, and reminded him what Aunt Charlotte always said: it was meant to be, when something odd happened. His comment was, God winked.”

  Cecily nodded. “I’ve heard that expression before. Because some people don’t believe there’s such a thing as a coincidence.”

  “I know. Do you think Fennell might have realized the Swann record books were kept in the attic?” Alicia asked. “In a sort of logical way, without really knowing. Like a good guess.”

  “I don’t know. But even if he did, he couldn’t get into the trunk, it’s locked…” Cecily stopped and immediately jumped up. “Speaking of the trunk, I feel I must go and check it right now. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  A few moments later the two women were in the bedroom corridor of the West Wing, and going up the attic stairs together.

  After turning on the ceiling light, Cecily rushed over to the trunk, relief flowing through her when she saw that it was locked. Peering closer at the lock, she suddenly realized it looked scratched. She straightened, and said to Alicia, “Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute. I’m going to get the key to the trunk.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “The lock looks scratched, as if someone tried to force it open.”

  When she returned a few minutes later, Cecily knelt down in front of the trunk and fitted the key into the lock. It took a moment for her to get the trunk open; she nodded to herself, muttered to Alicia, “I think the lock’s been tampered with. There, I got it to open. Finally!”

  Cecily lifted the lid and eyed the top layer of record books, knew at once that someone had been inside the trunk.

  She had her own special way of placing them in certain sequenc
es and they were slightly out of kilter. Her heart missed a beat, when, for a second, she couldn’t find the relevant book. And then she spotted it, placed at the front of the trunk, underneath two layers of other books. She never put it there. It was always at the back, under only one layer of the others.

  She handed the book to Alicia and stood. “I can’t swear that Fennell was in this trunk, but someone was, and they certainly knew how to pick a lock. The record book was put back, thank God, although it was in the wrong place.”

  Alicia said, “I can’t imagine how Adam Fennell knew about the record books. Or the trunk in the attic. I never discussed anything with him, or with Bryan Mellor.” She looked down at the black leather notebook in her hands. “We’d better let Uncle Howard test this for fingerprints, don’t you think?”

  “I do.” Locking the trunk, Cecily put the key in her pocket and followed Alicia down the attic stairs, then stopped at one moment. She said, “Go down to the corridor, close the attic door, and go into Aunt Charlotte’s room. And close that door. Listen carefully, Alicia.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to walk down the stairs stealthily. I want to know if you can hear me.”

  “Clever idea.” Alicia did as she was asked.

  Cecily crept down the stairs, slowly, carefully, as anyone might who was trying not to be heard, and then she faked a slight stumble as she paused, rubbed the calf of one leg. She waited a moment before going down the last few steps.

  Alicia came out of Aunt Charlotte’s bedroom. “Did you fall? Or fake a fall? I did hear a bit of noise.”

  “Good to know. Because I occasionally saw Fennell rubbing the calf of his leg, as if he had a cramp, and that’s what I did. I faked a cramp.”

  “He didn’t want anyone to know,” Alicia said. “He thought people might think of it as a disability. But I caught him rubbing his calves often. Do you think that’s what happened?”

  “I just don’t know. But look at the two doors, they face each other exactly. And there’s another thing, Aunt Charlotte was reading late, as she usually did. In the attic, I remembered that I’d seen an open book and her glasses on the bed when we went into the room after Peggy found her. Perhaps she was awake and reading when Fennell was up there.”