by Bill Kitson
‘Did you sleep all right,’ Harriet tried again. ‘Was the bed comfortable enough?’
The concerned hostess routine had me checking a thousand unsuitable replies. ‘Well enough thank you; when I eventually got to sleep. I was a lot later than I normally am but,’ – I turned to Eve and gave her a sickly smile – ‘that was Evie’s doing.’
‘That’s right, go ahead and put all the blame on me,’ Eve said with mock anger. ‘You weren’t involved I suppose? The next thing is you’ll claim you weren’t even on the bed with me.’
That was my worst moment. The sheer audacity of the remark, and the fact that it was true in a way, had me gripping my lip between my teeth to avoid laughing aloud.
‘I’m not sure I want to hear another word,’ Harriet said in disgust. ‘Particularly during breakfast.’
I finished my porridge and put my spoon down. In an instant, Eve was hovering at my side, her injury apparently forgotten. She reached and took the bowl. ‘Now how about a nice plate of bacon and eggs, darling,’ she asked solicitously, ‘after all you had such a tiring time yesterday and you must keep your strength up.’
That did it; Harriet rose to her feet and stalked from the room leaving her breakfast half-finished. The earlier flounce had been replaced by a strut.
I looked at Eve. Now the curtain had come down on our little piece of play-acting reaction had set in. ‘Are you OK, Evie?’ I asked her.
She shook her head, fighting back tears, of anger I guessed. ‘What right has she to interfere? Why should she assume that I would sleep with a man I’ve only known twenty-four hours? What sort of a slut does my own sister take me for?’
‘Perhaps she’s concerned for you. It’s natural for an older sister to worry.’
‘Adam, she isn’t concerned about me. I’m not a child anymore. I don’t sleep around. It’s not Harriet and you know it. It’s that blasted Jardine harpy that’s behind this. She saw you and wanted you to add to her collection. She’s jealous because I, er, I mean we spent so much time together and she’s put Harriet up to all this. Harriet’s never the same when that slapper’s about.’
‘Evie,’ I said, ‘forget about it. I’ll make damned sure it won’t happen again. Nobody’s going to upset you like this, I won’t allow it.’
She looked at me in surprise. ‘I mean it,’ I said. ‘Leave it to me. The subject won’t come up again, I promise you.’
She smiled, a little complacently I thought. It puzzled me slightly, but then again, like I said in the first place, I’m no ladies’ man.
‘How about that bacon and eggs?’ I suggested. ‘Neither of us had much to eat yesterday.’
‘That would be nice,’ Eve agreed.
‘You did say I had to keep my strength up,’ I reminded her.
Tony and Charlie walked in at that point, pre-empting a response from Eve that I’m reasonably certain would have been in Anglo-Saxon.
Tony briefed me on the gist of his conversation with DC Pratt whilst I was eating my breakfast. Immediately I had finished I left the dining hall in search of Harriet. On my way upstairs I paused to have a word with Sammy and Becky, who were accompanying their grandmother towards the dining hall.
I ran Harriet to earth as she was leaving the twins’ room. ‘Harriet,’ I told her, ‘I want a word with you in private.’
I think she knew by my tone of voice that I was angry. I made her sit down in one of the armchairs next to my bedroom window. ‘I hope you realize how upsetting all this bickering and back-biting is to both Eve and me? I don’t know what’s behind it but it must stop, and stop now. I want to help you and Tony sort this mess out but I can’t and won’t unless the atmosphere round here changes.’
She looked at me for a long time. ‘Adam, just answer me one question, will you?’
‘If I can, of course I will.’
‘Did you sleep with my sister last night?’
‘No, of course I bloody well didn’t.’ I was suddenly angry, as angry as Eve had been earlier, ‘What on earth are you thinking about, Harriet? Eve and I have only known each other a day and a half. What sort of a tart do you think she is?’
‘Yes, but I know you. I know how you can charm women.’
‘Harriet, you’re talking absolute garbage. I’ve been on my own since Georgina died. And that means exactly that. I haven’t slept with a woman since Georgina died, nor was I unfaithful to her when she was alive. I once shared a bed with a goat in Ethiopia but we both behaved ourselves. So where the notion about me and women comes from I’ve no idea.’
‘That’s not what I’ve heard. According to rumour you were one of the hottest catches on the New York scene when you lived there.’
I stared at her in astonishment. ‘Where the hell did you get that from? I only went to a few parties during all the time I worked in New York and that was for Georgina’s benefit. Come on, Harriet, out with it, who’s been spreading malicious gossip?’
‘I don’t believe it,’ Harriet said slowly. ‘What reason would Polly have to lie?’
‘Oh, so it was Polly Jardine who was behind this, was it? Harriet, pardon me for saying so but you’re an idiot, a bloody stupid naïve idiot.’
‘Adam, I don’t care what you say, Eve’s my sister and a guest in my house. I have to protect her.’
‘Eve is very capable of protecting herself.’
‘But that’s just it, she isn’t. Let me explain. Eve’s not good with men. I’ve tried to introduce her to lots of nice men, but they turned her off or she turned them off. The only time she did fall in love the man was a complete bastard. Eve got beaten black and blue by him. In the end,’ – Harriet gulped – ‘she almost killed him. She was tried for attempted murder and spent over a year in jail before her appeal reversed the conviction. She was lucky they believed her account of the incident, that he was attacking her and ruled that it was self-defence. Now do you understand why Eve is as she is; why I feel I must protect her?’
‘Yes,’ I conceded, ‘I understand that, but you must also understand something, Harriet. Eve is a decent young woman. I am not some sex-starved stud. To suggest we leapt into the sack after twenty-four hours; do you realize how insulting that is to both of us?’
‘But she was seen going into your room last night and leaving it this morning. Then at breakfast, neither of you denied it.’
‘That’s right, she did come into my room last night. If you or whoever’s been spying on us had hung around they’d have seen her leave again. And if your sentinel had been more awake this morning, they’d have seen Eve come into my room ten minutes before she left. As for breakfast, of course we didn’t deny it. Neither, if you think about it did we admit it. That was because we both thought it so absurd and insulting we decided to take the piss out of you. And you richly deserved it.’ I looked at Harriet, I could see she was still torn with doubt. ‘Now, I suggest you get your act together and do a bit of apologizing otherwise I’m out of here the minute the roads are clear. Either that or I go to Tony with the whole story.’
I saw the look of dawning horror on her face and pressed home my advantage. ‘Your course of action is quite clear. First I want an apology. Second, your sister needs an apology. After that, you’d better seek out Polly Jardine and warn her to keep out of my way. And if I hear of one more malicious rumour that’s originated from her, I’ll slap her with a writ for slander. If you don’t do that, I’ll speak to her and by God she won’t enjoy that.’
Harriet was crying by the time I’d finished. ‘I’m sorry, Adam; I’ve fouled everything up, haven’t I?’
‘Perhaps you were led on, Harry,’ I consoled her. ‘Now come on, give me an apology and we can be friends again.’
She managed a watery smile. ‘Nobody but you ever called me Harry,’ she said. ‘Oh, Adam, I am sorry, it was everything at once, you see. I’ve been so worried about Tony and this madness that infects their family; then with Beaumont’s murder on top. But to think that about you and Eve was inexcusable. Is she very u
pset?’
‘Harry,’ – I put my arm round her – ‘you’re a lovely girl but sometimes you’re as daft as a brush. Your husband is one of the gentlest, nicest, sanest people I’ve ever met. I know the Beaumont thing’s a worry, but we’ll sort that out. As for Eve, I’d go in waving a white flag if I was you, her language could be a bit salty otherwise. Now hop it or you’ll be getting a bad reputation; that’s what happens to women when they hang around my bedroom.’
Chapter Nine
Lady Charlotte occupied what was in effect her own apartment on the first floor of the east wing of the castle. There was a calmness about Charlotte Rowe that I found relaxing. ‘I feel rather strange about this,’ I told her when we were seated in her drawing room. ‘I came here to help with the problem Tony and Harriet wanted solving but this business of Beaumont’s murder has thrown me completely off track.’
‘Do you think the two are in any way connected?’
‘That’s a lot harder question to answer than it sounds. I can’t honestly say one way or the other. To be honest I don’t know enough about either to form a judgement yet. If you were to pin me down to some sort of decision, I’d probably say there was a link, but I’ve no idea what it might be.
‘When and where do you intend to start looking?’
I smiled. ‘I’ve already started, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I can’t do much regarding Beaumont’s murder at present. I’ve done all I’m really qualified to do in that respect. The investigative side of it is down to the police. They’re the professionals. I’m only a reporter, and a retired one at that. I’m certainly not a detective.’
‘Don’t you think reporters and detectives are similar? They both call for someone with an enquiring mind, surely?’
‘Possibly so, but I’m not really sure where to start looking for Beaumont’s murderer. I’m a little hesitant to go ahead in case I mess things up for the police.’
‘What information do you want to grill me for?’
‘I hardly think grilling is going to be involved. I’m told you know more about Rowe family history than anyone else.’
‘That may be true but it’s not saying a lot.’
I raised my eyebrows questioningly.
‘The Rowe family,’ Charlotte told me, ‘have made secrecy into a fine art. I’m not talking about just one or two of them; I’m talking about generation upon generation. There must be centuries of unknown, unrecorded events. It’s almost as if they had a pact whereby they would live out their lives in some sort of self-created Dark Ages. Things have been different recently of course. Both my husband George and his father were extremely open, as is Tony, but before them,’ – she cast her eyes heavenwards – ‘anyone would think they’d all signed the Official Secrets Act.’
‘When you talk of them being secretive, do you mean there are no diaries or personal journals or anything of that nature?’
There was a fractional hesitation before Charlotte replied. ‘If there was I’ve certainly never seen one, and I’ve lived here over forty years.’
‘Doesn’t that strike you as extremely odd?’
‘Yes and no,’ she smiled. ‘I realize that’s no sort of a reply but there are certain facts you need to understand. Yes, I agree on the face of things it must seem obsessive, which is what I assume you mean by odd, but that obsession has its roots in the persecution the family undoubtedly underwent because of their Catholic faith.’
‘Did they suffer much?’
‘Most certainly they did. Their lands were threatened with confiscation and they were stripped of some of their titles. Only the baronetcy survived.’
I stared at her in surprise. ‘I didn’t realize that. I wasn’t aware that sort of thing went on.’
Charlotte smiled. ‘Yes, it is a little difficult for us to grasp, isn’t it? That’s probably because we have been brought up in a parliamentary democracy. However, at the time we’re talking about the rule was that of autocratic monarchs, and what they could give with one hand they could just as easily take away with the other. Sometimes they did it to the same people within the space of a few years. Henry VIII was probably the prime example but there were plenty of others.’
‘In effect, what you’re saying is there is nothing by way of a family history in existence?’
Charlotte paused and looked at me for a moment. ‘I’m not really sure how to answer that. If you mean have I ever seen such a volume, as I said earlier I would have to say no. As to whether one exists that I haven’t seen, all I can say is I have heard rumours about a book, nothing more.’
‘I think you’re going to have to explain that.’
‘All I know is what my father-in-law told George when George was a boy. Apparently, George’s grandfather used to read extracts from a book to George’s father, but George seemed to think it was as much a history of the castle as of the family. That’s about all I know.’
‘Hang on, Charlotte; I’m getting a bit confused. Can you give me a quick rundown on recent family history so I’ll know who’s who?’
‘Right, let’s start with Sir Frederick and Lady Amelia. If you remember, she was the one who disappeared with her lover. Sir Frederick and Lady Amelia had two sons before she skedaddled. Henry, the elder son, was my father-in-law. In other words, Henry was Anthony’s grandfather and Albert, Henry’s younger brother, was Russell Rowe’s grandfather.’
‘I thought Tony and Russell were first cousins?’
‘No, Colin Drake is Tony’s first cousin. His mother Edith was George’s elder sister.
‘Right, I’m with you now.’
‘When Sir Frederick died, the title and estate passed to Henry. The two go together, always to the eldest male. So from Henry it passed to George – and when George died Tony inherited both the baronetcy and Mulgrave Castle and all the estate that goes with it.’
‘Do you believe a journal exists; or if it ever existed?’
‘I have grave doubts. If it does it has been very well hidden. So much so, I doubt whether you would find it.’
‘Did your husband ever say anything about it?’
‘If I remember correctly, all George said was that his father was a “secretive and cantankerous old bastard”. And I didn’t know George’s father very well at all, as he died not long after we got married, which I don’t think helps you much.’
‘No, not a lot,’ I agreed. ‘But my thought is that if we are to get to the bottom of those disappearances we might find some clues in that journal.’
Charlotte smiled. ‘That’s quite possible, if you could locate it.’
‘One possibility occurs to me: that the journal may have been hidden precisely because it does contain information that would give a clue to the truth, and that someone was desperate the truth should remain hidden.’
When I wandered into Tony’s study shortly before lunchtime, Eve had finished typing the statements and was removing the carbon paper from between the pages. She greeted me with a wide, welcoming smile that did my pulse rate no good. ‘I’ve got these ready for the police. I don’t think there’s anything more I can do.’
‘You’ve had a busy morning,’ I said mildly.
‘Not half,’ she replied, ‘and that’s not all. I don’t know exactly what you said to Harriet but she came to see me about half an hour ago. She was very apologetic. So much so, she finished up in tears. That shocked me, I have to say. I’ve never seen Harriet so upset. You must have really gone to town on her. What exactly did you say?’
‘I told her she had grossly insulted you. I said she had implied you were a tart, and that in passing, she had been rather less than complimentary to me. I told her that unless her attitude improved immediately I was going to leave here as soon as road conditions allowed. After that I told her I was disgusted by her behaviour and that I expected better from her.’
‘I think I’m beginning to see why she was so upset,’ Eve said dryly. ‘Did Harriet offer any explanation for the way she behaved?’
�
��Yes she did and that’s when I guessed it wasn’t all her fault. I didn’t go into the finer details but I think she’s been fed some scurrilous propaganda. She certainly had some gossip about me that I found highly offensive, and it made me wonder if you’d been the subject of similar disinformation.’
‘What was the offensive gossip or would you rather not say?’
I thought about this for a few seconds. I’ve never been one for letting the world know about my most private and personal business but I felt it important not to keep anything back from Eve. ‘I wouldn’t tell anyone,’ I said eventually, ‘but I don’t mind you knowing. The gist of it was that when I was living and working in New York I was unfaithful to my wife Georgina, on a regular basis. That I was a serial adulterer in fact.’
Eve stared at me in astonishment. ‘You don’t mean to tell me Harriet was naïve enough to believe such a load of claptrap?’
I nodded. ‘Apparently so, it must have been quite convincing.’
‘What a load of bollocks. I gave my sister credit for more sense than that. After all the time she’s known you, she still believes a bullshit tale like that. I only met you a couple of days ago and you couldn’t convince me to believe it.’
‘Thank you for the testimonial.’ I bowed slightly. ‘It must have been very persuasive; either that or Harriet’s not thinking straight at present.’
‘Was it very hurtful, Adam? I don’t know enough about your wife, except that she died, and I can imagine that was a very nasty reminder of things you might be trying to forget.’
If Harriet’s behaviour had been out of character mine was scarcely less so. For the first time I found myself able to relate my story. ‘Georgina was an actress; a very good actress at that. Unfortunately, after we married she got less and less work. Then I got shipped off to Ethiopia. I was wounded covering the war and finished up in hospital. Whilst I was recuperating I got a visit from a British Embassy official. He told me Georgina had thrown herself off the balcony of our apartment. Loneliness and depression they called it; the two things Georgina wasn’t able to cope with.’