Silent as the Grave

by Bill Kitson

  ‘It certainly got my pulse rate up,’ I said with a smile. ‘I thought I was having a dream. A very pleasant dream,’ I added.

  ‘How do you feel now?’ She seemed to want to change the subject.

  ‘I’ve got a pounding headache, I’m sore all over, and I feel as if I’ve been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. Apart from that, I feel fine.’

  ‘That’s hardly surprising, is it?’

  ‘I suppose not. What happened after I passed out?’

  ‘I’m not really sure. I was too busy looking after you to worry much about anything else. Cathy Marsh was fussing over Frank and the rest just did as Tony told them to.’

  ‘What about Charlie?’

  ‘He’s going to be OK, I think. He’s a bit bashed about like you but the only real concern is his leg. Charlotte said they need to get him to hospital as soon as they can so he can get proper treatment.’

  She stretched out on the bed and I got a delightful view of her figure in silhouette. I smiled at the memory of what I’d thought had been a dream.

  ‘What’s amusing you?’ she demanded.

  ‘I was just thinking what would have been said if anyone had walked in on us whilst you were keeping me warm.’

  ‘I wasn’t bothered about that. I was only concerned about you. Anyway, give me credit for a bit of sense. I locked the door.’

  ‘I wonder what your sister would have said. She’d never have believed we’d been telling the truth about the night before, particularly if she’d walked in …’ I paused.

  ‘What were you going to say?’ she asked challengingly.

  ‘I’m not sure whether I dreamed it, or whether I actually did kiss you.’ Her blush told me I hadn’t dreamed it. ‘I could do it again if you want.’ I offered.

  She laughed. ‘Now I know you’re feeling better.’

  ‘Evie,’ I said, seriously, ‘thank you for everything.’

  ‘Someone had to take care of you. Tony and Harriet were busy with Charlie and the rest of them were about as much use as a chocolate fireguard. Nobody seemed able to take control or get on with it. They’re pathetic.’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ I smiled at Eve’s ferocity. ‘One of them had a reason for not rushing to help.’

  ‘True, I hadn’t thought of that,’ Eve was sobered by the idea. ‘I’m going to sort out some breakfast for you. You must be starving by now. Then you’re not to move from that bed today, understand?’

  I smiled. ‘I can’t stay in bed all day.’

  ‘Why not, what’s so important you have to get up?’

  ‘Actually, I need a pee.’

  ‘Oh, yes, well that’s different. Do you think you’ll be able to manage getting to the shower room on your own?’

  ‘I don’t know until I try.’

  She swung her legs off the bed and walked round to my side. Before I could guess what she was about she twitched the duvet back.

  ‘Evie,’ I protested. ‘I’ve no clothes on.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve seen it all before,’ she paused, ‘remember?’

  ‘How about you; is your leg up to this?’

  ‘My leg’s fine, don’t worry about me.’

  I knew she wasn’t going to yield. I moved my legs and swung upright to a sitting position. It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. Not quite.

  ‘OK,’ Eve told me, ‘I’m going to put my arms round you. I want you to stand up on the count of three; one, two, three.’ We stood up. I tottered slightly. ‘Hold tight onto me,’ Eve ordered.

  I obeyed, murmuring, ‘I love it when you talk dirty to me.’

  ‘Behave yourself; or I’ll drop you. Now, take your time, shuffle if you have to. I won’t let you down.’

  Eve was looking at me, her expression one of concern. I didn’t feel embarrassed at my nudity. I felt too weak, too tired, and too ill for it to matter. ‘OK, boss.’

  I made it to the shower room and back.

  ‘Right, I’m going to get Rathbone to bring your breakfast up on a tray.’

  ‘On one condition, get him to bring yours up as well. I can’t stand my nurse going off duty when I might need her.’

  ‘Breakfast in your bedroom. Really, Adam, what would the neighbours say?’ She grinned.

  ‘Bugger the neighbours.’

  Gradually, the protesting nerves that had disapproved so strongly of my visit to the shower room settled down and by the time Eve returned I was ready to take breakfast seriously. Rathbone followed her into the room and put a huge tray down on the table by the window. As far as I could see the tray contained almost everything from the kitchen bar the sink.

  ‘There was a real scrum round the breakfast bar,’ Eve said as she prepared to bring me a plate of bacon and eggs. ‘But Tony and Harriet ordered everyone to wait until you’d been served. They all look ravenous because they missed out on dinner last night. I pointed out that you’d missed two in a row. They didn’t mind much, they were prepared to wait for the hero. To be honest, I think they’re all worried stiff in case they get accused of murder and all the rest.’

  ‘How is everyone this morning?’

  ‘Apart from their hunger pangs everyone seems fine. They all asked after you and I reckon you’ll have to brace yourself for a stream of visitors once they’ve eaten. I think part of that’s genuine concern and part wanting to demonstrate their innocence. Harriet says Charlie’s much brighter this morning but still in a lot of pain from his leg. From what Tony said it seems Marsh is also feeling much better, although he’s got a bad headache.’

  After we had eaten, Eve said, ‘Unless you need anything else I’m off to my room for a shower. I still haven’t had the one I promised myself when we were working in the library. I must stink.’

  ‘Oh I don’t know, you smelt fine to me during the night.’

  Eve’s a much better shot with a bread bun than she is with a book. As I was retrieving the missile I remembered something. ‘What happened to that book I found; the history of the castle?’

  ‘I’ve got it safe in my room. I’ll bring it back,’ she promised.

  When Eve tip-toed back into the room I was dozing, but the soft click as she locked the door woke me. I opened my eyes fractionally and watched her move softly towards one of the armchairs, ‘You smell nice,’ I told her.

  She poked her tongue out at me. ‘Go back to sleep,’ she ordered. ‘I’m going to sit here and read.’

  As she finished speaking however, there was a knock on the door. As I expected, it was Harriet. ‘Why did you lock the door?’ she asked her sister.

  ‘Adam was asleep, I didn’t want him disturbed,’ Eve said warily.

  Harriet nodded. ‘Very sensible.’ She walked over to the bed. ‘How are you, Adam?’

  ‘I’ve felt better,’ I admitted, ‘but I’ll live.’

  ‘I’m not going to stay. I just wanted to thank you. I honestly think Charlie would have died if it hadn’t been for what you did.’

  ‘Glad to help,’ I said. ‘I just hope you can get him to hospital for treatment on that leg.’

  ‘Tony’s talking to the police now. He’ll be up to see you in a few minutes.’

  At that moment, there was another knock at the door and Tony walked in. His gloomy expression told us he’d brought bad news. ‘The line went dead, but not before I spoke to Pratt, he’s going to do what he can but apparently, there’s more bad weather on the way. I suppose unless they get the roads cleared we’re looking at a few more days of isolation, I’m afraid. I told him everything that happened yesterday. He wants statements from Charlie, Marsh, and you about what you remember. He also said he’d like to speak to you when you’re up to it.’

  ‘How do I do that without a phone?’

  ‘The line to the castle is pretty antiquated, we’re always having problems. It should be back in a day or so.’

  I looked at the baronet and had I been able, would have shook my head in despair. It hadn’t occurred to him that our only means of contact with the outside wor
ld was gone, that the occupants of the castle were marooned with a killer.

  Chapter Eleven

  Eve had threatened a stream of visitors, but what I got was a deluge. Cathy Marsh was next, accompanied by Polly Jardine. I noticed a sparkle of aggression in Eve’s eyes when confronted by Polly and steered the conversation towards Frank and his condition. They left after a few minutes and they had barely got out of the door before the twins arrived. It was clear that Becky and Sammy adored their brother, and their concern for me was touchingly mixed with gratitude for saving him. After a while they were joined by Tony’s cousins and their children. My bedroom was large but suddenly it felt crowded, claustrophobic. As soon as she could politely do so Eve asked them to leave so her patient could rest.

  Before I was able to however, Charlotte arrived to add her thanks for saving her grandson. I promised to visit Charlie as soon as I felt up to it and she told me she would give him that message. Eve closed the door behind her and locked it. She pulled the curtains to. ‘Rest now,’ she ordered, ‘you need to sleep, you’ve had more than enough for the time being.’

  ‘Yes, nurse,’ I agreed meekly. ‘What will you do while I’m asleep? You must be as tired as me; you barely got any sleep last night.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll probably doze in the chair,’ she said.

  I patted the bed alongside me. ‘Why not lie here,’ I suggested. ‘You’ll be quite safe, I promise you.’ I grinned. ‘Whilst I’m in this condition at least.’

  Eve eyed me and the bed with a mixture of wistful apprehension.

  ‘Come on,’ I encouraged her. ‘I promise not to tell Harriet.’

  She stretched out alongside me with the duvet decorously between us. I was asleep almost before her head touched the pillow.

  I woke up several hours later. As I awoke I felt a curious numbness in my left shoulder. I turned my head slightly and felt Eve’s hair tickling my cheek. I inhaled her fresh, clean scent. She was breathing softly as she slept. I wondered how her head came to be resting on my shoulder. It didn’t matter. I enjoyed the pleasure of the moment. As if she sensed my thoughts she stirred in her sleep and her arm came across my chest. She moved once more, closer, and her arm tightened about me. I wondered what she was dreaming about; or whom? She wriggled her face against my neck. I didn’t complain. We remained like that for a few minutes; then I felt her breathing change and knew she had woken up. I waited for her to move away. She didn’t. In a subconscious movement I moved against her, softly to make her aware I too was awake. She raised her head and smiled at me. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep. ‘Hello again,’ her voice was little more than a whisper, ‘how long have you been awake?’

  ‘Not long.’ I smiled. ‘I didn’t want to move for fear of waking you.’

  She suddenly realized where her arm was and moved it down by her side. ‘You were having a bad dream,’ she told me. Her tone was defensive, ‘I was trying to calm you down. You were agitated; calling out in your sleep.’

  ‘What was I shouting?’

  ‘Nothing much.’ She gave that secretive smile again. ‘Anyway, now you’re awake why don’t I go fetch us some coffee?’

  She opened the curtains before she left and I could see flakes of snow drifting lazily past the window. As DC Pratt had forecast; the weather had deteriorated again. ‘Maybe we’ll look at that book after our coffee,’ I suggested.

  ‘OK, Adam.’

  Whilst she was away I reflected on the change over the three days. Not only the change in Eve; but the change in my attitude to her. At first I had been prepared to detest her; but then I’d found the real Eve behind the façade. Under the bluster and arrogance was a warm-hearted and loving nature. I spent several minutes cursing the man who had caused her to radiate such hostility. I’d been lucky; I’d got past that outer guard and seen the real person underneath. I liked what I saw.

  The only practical way we could inspect the book together was if Eve curled up on the bed alongside me. Neither of us seemed particularly concerned about the proximity. ‘I just hope I can concentrate,’ I said softly.

  ‘Because of your head, you mean? Is it hurting badly?’ She looked concerned.

  I looked at her and smiled. ‘No not because of my head, because of you.’

  She slapped my hand, but gently. ‘Behave yourself.’

  ‘That’s no way to treat your patient.’

  ‘Shut up and concentrate.’

  I did as I was told. It took a few moments before she realized my concentration was on her, not the book. ‘Adam,’ she protested, ‘you’re supposed to be concentrating.’

  ‘I was doing.’

  ‘On the book, I mean.’

  ‘Oh, all right, if I must, but I’d rather concentrate on you.’

  She thought she’d conceal her smile by looking away but she reckoned without the dressing table mirror.

  Miles Rowe’s History of Mulgrave Castle was one of those private publications that were popular during the nineteenth century by those who could afford them. ‘I wonder who he was?’ I said. ‘Have a look at the date of publication.’

  Eve opened the front cover. ‘1853,’ she read.

  ‘About when I would have expected. Let’s have a look at what Miles has to tell us about Mulgrave Castle that we don’t already know.’

  As Eve turned the first few pages I could see Miles Rowe had traced the history of the castle from the earliest days, since its construction after the Norman invasion and subjugation of England in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. ‘I reckon Miles had access to far more information than we might have,’ I suggested.

  Eve looked across at me. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Look at the detail he goes into about the members of the Rowe family.’ I pointed to one section. ‘There for instance, Roland and William Rowe, those two old rogues Charlie told us about, the two whose tombs are in the chapel. I know Charlie told us a bit about them but Miles has devoted a whole chapter to their exploits.’

  ‘What exactly are we looking for in this book?’ Eve asked.

  ‘I’m not really sure, but from the publication date I hoped there might be some reference to the first disappearance, that of Lady Elizabeth, if not the drowning of Sir Richard as well. On the other hand I’d not be surprised if neither of those tragedies got a mention.’

  Eve looked puzzled and I explained. ‘It all depends if the Rowe madness legend was in existence in 1853. If not, there would be no reason for him to omit those events. On the other hand, if the madness theory did exist in 1853 Miles might have been more inclined to exclude all reference to the disappearances.’

  ‘In order for the past to become obscured, you mean?’

  ‘Something like that. Let’s read on and see what he does put in.’

  We continued to study the book for another hour but we could find no reference to either Lady Elizabeth’s alleged elopement of the drowning of the young Sir Richard Rowe. By the time we had established these facts my headache had worsened and I declared I needed a rest. ‘Why don’t you read that middle passage to me? I must rest my eyes for a while,’ I suggested.

  Eve looked at me in concern, ‘Are you sure? You don’t want to sleep for a while and continue later?’

  ‘No, I’ll be fine if I just lie back and shut my eyes for a while.’

  I settled back on the pillow and there was an immediate lessening of the pressure on my eyes, ‘Go on,’ I encouraged Eve, who was still watching me. ‘Read me that part of the narrative about the destruction of the original building in a fire and the rebuilding. I wonder if that’s part of the persecution Charlotte mentioned yesterday? I’d be interested to know if Charlotte’s aware the castle had been burnt down and that this isn’t the original construction.’

  ‘Was that to do with Henry VIII, do you know?’

  ‘Possibly, but it could equally well have been his daughter.’

  ‘Elizabeth I?’ Eve looked surprised. ‘I wasn’t much good at history. I didn’t realize she was into persecut
ion of Catholics as well?’

  ‘You bet. Although in her case it was more self-preservation than religious fervour. Mind you, it had little to do with religion in Henry’s case, more a question of him getting his leg over.’

  ‘Adam, don’t be coarse.’

  ‘It’s true,’ I protested. ‘Henry was desperate for a male heir. He couldn’t get one from any of his wives so he either cut their head off or, when that caused a reluctance on the part of potential brides, he invented divorce as a more humane way of getting rid of them. The Catholic Church opposed him so he told them to take a running jump and founded his own. One of the most amusing ironies in modern society is the Anglican unwillingness to allow divorced people to marry in church – when the establishment itself was founded on divorce.’

  ‘There speaks an atheist.’

  ‘Not really, but I don’t like hypocrisy either.’

  ‘Going back to Elizabeth, what was it about her and self-preservation?’

  ‘You have to remember that when Henry died there was considerable opposition to her accession to the throne. There were a few others whose claims were as strong if not stronger than hers. Henry might have founded the Anglican Church and destroyed most of the monasteries that were an essential part of the Catholic power base, but the Anglican Church was a puny fledgling and a large proportion of the population was unwilling to relinquish the old ways. This was particularly the case amongst the nobles who were in a good position to form powerful alliances. They supported several Catholic contenders to the throne in the hope that they could re-establish the Catholic religion as the only true religion in England. I’m willing to bet the suitability of their chosen candidate for the role of monarch was secondary to their religious beliefs.’

  ‘It all sounds rather shabby and underhand to me.’

  ‘Of course, isn’t all politics?’

  ‘You’re not an atheist, you’re a cynic.’

  ‘Maybe, either that or a realist; whichever you prefer.’

  Eve had been leafing through the book whilst I delivered my diatribe and stopped suddenly. ‘It sounds as if you’re right,’ said, without looking up. ‘Listen to this bit.’ She began to read.