‘Petechiae?’
‘Yes.’ Miriam looked at Mac, horrified at the implication.
‘What do they mean?’ Rav asked.
Rina had caught on now. ‘He was smothered,’ she said. ‘Miriam?’
Miriam nodded. ‘It looks that way, Rina. Rav, did you see the door key when you came in?’
‘I – smothered? What do you mean? You mean someone killed him?’
‘I think it is a distinct possibility. The key?’
Rina pointed. ‘There, on the chest of drawers.’
‘Ah, yes. Right, we all need to leave and lock the door, then call the police and get some assistance here.’
‘Right,’ Rav said. ‘No, you really mean it?’
‘I really mean it,’ Miriam confirmed. ‘Rav, your friend didn’t die of a heart attack. He was asphyxiated, and I’m guessing it was with this pillow. Whoever did it then placed the pillow under his head to make it look as though he’d died in his sleep. What they didn’t realize is that either they’d scratched him or he’d struggled and scratched himself. The blood had flowed out on to the pillow he was lying on. When they put the other one beneath his head—’
‘The blood was on the wrong pillow.’ Rav stared. ‘But no one would want to hurt Edwin. He was . . . harmless. Gentle, just a nice old man.’
Rina led him from the room. The others followed, and Mac locked the door. ‘Best check what other keys there are,’ he said. He looked grave.
Rav blinked, as though suddenly in too bright a light. ‘Someone here did it? Someone here killed Edwin?’
‘We can’t rule that out,’ Mac said gently. ‘We should call the local police now.’
They returned to the dining room, and Mac asked to use a private phone. He took Miriam with him.
‘Is he really dead?’ Viv asked, eyes wide and a mix of horror and fascinated excitement on her face.
‘He really is. Melissa, how many keys are there to each room?’
‘Two,’ Melissa told him. ‘Why?’
‘And a master key?’
‘No, not to the bedrooms. We’ve got a master to the suite of keys for the downstairs doors, but the upstairs rooms are all just off-the-shelf stuff, we haven’t got around to changing them yet. They were fitted when we took over.’
‘Took over?’ Rina asked.
‘Um, yes, the consortium bought this place, spent a few months doing what was immediately necessary, and we’ve been doing it piecemeal since. The people before us tried to get it going as a country house hotel, they’d done it up, but I think most of their stuff was from the local DIY warehouse, we’ve been upgrading. Look, what happened to Edwin? What does it have to do with keys?’
Rav had sat down at the table, and someone poured him some coffee. He sat now with his hands around the cup. He looked sick, Rina thought. ‘They think someone murdered Edwin,’ Rav said.
‘Murdered! Oh, for Pete’s sake.’ Toby was almost amused. Then: ‘You mean it, don’t you? Oh my God.’
‘How?’ Viv asked. ‘Who? I mean, there’s only been us here.’
‘One of us?’ Robin sounded less shocked than the others. He was watching Rina intently.
‘We don’t know that,’ Rina said quietly. ‘Melissa, where are the spare keys kept?’
‘I’ll show you.’ Melissa almost fled from the room, clearly glad to be doing something. Rina and Tim followed her through the hall and back towards the kitchen. They passed Mac and Miriam in Melissa’s tiny office, still talking on the phone. Mac was frowning, and Miriam looked anxious. Into the small but shining kitchen, and through to a back office opposite what Rina assessed to be an old boot room. A flight of stairs led down to a basement, and a cold draft blew upward.
‘What’s down there?
‘The old wine cellar and various storage rooms. Why?’ Melissa didn’t wait for an answer. ‘We keep the keys in here.’ She pointed at a wooden cabinet fastened to the wall. There was a lock, but no key in it, and the door was held closed by a metal hook and loop that had been screwed to the door and the side of the box.
‘We never had the key to that. And the door was off when I took over. I screwed it back on its hinges and then cobbled the hasp and staple together from stuff I found in the cupboards.’ Melissa was babbling now.
‘Here,’ Tim said. A rough wooden table served as a desk in here, and an old mug stuffed with pens and pencils provided Tim with the implement he was looking for. He handed Rina a pencil with an eraser on the end. She used it to push the hook out of the loop, making as little contact as she could. The door swung open to reveal rows of hooks with keys hanging from them. Door keys and old-fashioned gate keys; a ring for the estate van and car. Each was labelled, the top two rows being bedrooms with numbers beside each one.
‘Which was Edwin’s?’
‘This one.’ Melissa pointed. The second key was still in place.
‘Can you get into here from the rear of the building?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
Melissa led them back out into the lobby and into what Rina had thought must be a cupboard next to the boot room. The rear door led out into a small courtyard with a gap in the wall through which Rina could see the carriage house across the lawn. Various outbuildings surrounded the courtyard, and Rina made a note to herself that she must come out and check them over later. When she actually had her shoes on and not the pink satin slippers. The snow lay thick and heavy, and various sets of footprints crossed the space.
‘Have you been out here today?’ she asked Melissa.
‘Um, yes. Into that building there. We use that as the laundry, all the machines and so on are inside it.’
‘So that set of footprints would be yours. There and back again. And those?’ Heavier and larger, booted feet.
‘I don’t know. Oh God, you don’t think . . . ?’
‘It could easily have been one of the guests exploring,’ Tim soothed.
They retreated into the lobby once more, and Rina glanced into the boot room, satisfying herself that no exit led from there. ‘You say that’s a basement. Can I go down?’
Melissa reached around her and switched on the light. ‘The stairs are steep,’ she said. ‘And it’s bloody freezing. Damp too.’
Rina and Tim descended. Melissa, arms wrapped around her body as though hugging herself, stood at the top of the stairs. The ceiling was arched and had been whitewashed, though this was now flaking and crumbling. Wine racks stood against the wall closest to the stairs, and it was soon evident that the staff, such as they were, rarely ventured beyond this point. Old wooden shelves filled a lot of the space; broken chairs and old crates took up much of the rest. ‘There’s so much of this place unfinished, undealt with,’ Rina said quietly when Melissa was out of earshot. ‘Why not just bring in a full compliment of staff, get this up and running as quickly as possible?’
‘Ah, yet another thing to nag at Rina’s brain,’ Tim said with a smile. ‘But you’re right, it is all a bit odd. Nothing down here though, except—’ He pointed. The window was set high in the wall, as befitted a basement, but not so high that Rina could not see the snow settled against the broken panes.
‘You think someone could have come in that way?’ Rina upended a crate and stood carefully on its top. ‘The latch is broken,’ she said. ‘You could just push it open from the inside, but no, the snow is thick, no one’s disturbed it. My bet is they simply came in through the back door.’
‘And do you have a particular “they” in mind? Something tells me you don’t mean whoever killed Edwin.’
‘No,’ Rina confirmed. ‘I still have that one down as an inside job. But twice now I’ve seen things that lead me to believe someone is poking around this place at night, and I don’t want to guess yet if that’s connected to Edwin’s death or not.’
‘You’ve not mentioned this before.’
‘Nothing much to mention. Let’s go back up, it’s freezing down here.’ She hopped off the crate and led the way back through the wa
rren of basement rooms and up the stairs. Melissa didn’t appear to have moved.
‘Let’s go and get warmed up,’ Rina said, ‘and see when the police are likely to get here.’
It had started to snow heavily again, Rina noted as they returned to the dining room. Lunch was untouched, and the company sat around the big table looking glum and rather lost. Mac followed close on their heels.
‘When are the police getting here?’ Rina asked.
‘Well, that’s a bit of a problem,’ Mac said. ‘There’s been a multi-vehicle pile-up on the A1, abandoned vehicles and people trapped by the weather all over the county. As you can imagine, resources are stretched.’
‘But this is a murder.’
‘And, unfortunately, the two main access roads are blocked. The road through Hickling, where we stayed last night, is now completely closed. It looks like we left just in time. I phoned the landlord at the Oaks, where we stayed last night, and he reckons even his Land Rover can’t make it up the hill, and there’s been a landslide coming in from the other way.’
‘That happened last winter,’ Melissa said. ‘Up by Crispin crags. It took three days to clear it that time.’
‘So that will have to be sorted out before we can depend on help getting in, and then they’ve got the gated road to negotiate. The idea is, they’ll get on to the local farmer and see what help he can provide, maybe get some officers in by tractor, but for now, folks, it looks as if we’re on our own.’
‘Oh, and to make it even more interesting, a lot of the phone and power lines are down,’ Miriam added.
‘We’ve got a generator for if the power does go down,’ Melissa said. ‘We learnt that lesson last year. Phones might be more of an issue; let’s just hope for the best there. But we can’t carry on as normal with a dead body upstairs, it’s just not right!’
‘We don’t really have a choice,’ Mac told her. ‘I’ve been talking to an Inspector Chandler, and he’s going to call back as soon as he can. Meantime, we need to record the scene, take statements, work out where everyone was when Edwin died and so on.’
‘So you’re planning on taking over, are you?’ Toby was oddly aggressive.
His hangover must be really bad, Rina thought. ‘Do you have a better suggestion?’ she asked.
‘Poor Edwin,’ Viv said softly. She glared at her professor. ‘What can we do to help?’
‘Well, first of all, Miriam and I need to record the scene. Melissa, do you have any kitchen whites? We don’t want to risk contaminating things further than we already have, wearing our outdoor clothes.’
‘Yes, yes, we have those.’ She looked close to tears. ‘What else?’
‘Camera equipment. Toby?’
‘No, you damned well can’t.’
‘Don’t be an ass, Toby,’ Tim said.
Toby glared at him for a moment, then sighed. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m just upset, and I don’t like, well, being bossed around.’
That, Rina thought, was probably what everyone actually needed right now. To be told what to do.
‘We should all stay in here for the moment,’ she said. ‘Just while Miriam establishes the extent of the crime scene.’
‘What do you mean?’ Viv was curious now.
‘I thought the crime scene was just the bedroom,’ Robin added.
‘It’s anywhere the killer might have left a trace,’ Miriam explained.
‘But that could be anywhere, couldn’t it?’ Viv said. ‘Doesn’t that mean we can’t even go to the loo?’
Rina hid a smile.
‘No, it just means we have to be methodical,’ Miriam said. ‘I suggest that Melissa takes us to the kitchen, we get changed, and then we start with that part of the house. That way everyone can get access to food and drink and the downstairs cloakroom. I doubt that will take long, but we still need to check. Later, they’ll have to fingerprint the locks and so on and take fingerprints for comparison and elimination. Then we’ll know, for example, if someone came into the house last night.’
‘Carry your kit around with you, do you?’ Toby again. ‘Just in case you stumble over a body? Right little girl scout.’
‘Toby, just cut it out,’ Viv snapped at him. ‘Ask Melissa for some painkillers and get over yourself.’
‘I’ve got some pills in the kitchen,’ Melissa said vaguely. ‘Do you really have your stuff with you?’ she asked. ‘I mean . . . ?’
‘No, but we can improvise, don’t worry,’ Miriam said. ‘What we need to do is isolate anything that the local CSIs need to examine properly, so we’ll do the obvious stuff like bagging and tagging keys and any trace evidence we find, photographing anything we can, that sort of thing.’
Rina glanced around the table. Miriam had them all focused on her, and the quiet, reasonable voice had them all in thrall.
‘I suggest you all get something to eat, and Mac and I will deal with the main scene. Hopefully, we’ll get some back-up soon,’ Miriam said.
Quiet discontented murmurs and sounds of reluctant agreement followed. Mac and Miriam then left with Melissa to deck themselves out in chefs’ whites and see what equipment they could improvise.
‘Right,’ Rina said. ‘We should get ourselves some drinks at least and see if this lunch is still hot enough to eat.’
‘Eat? I couldn’t eat.’ Rav shook his head.
Rina ignored him. She could see that the first shock was diminishing now and knew from experience that, despite protests and coyness about the propriety of gluttony, everyone would suddenly find that they were ravenous. She had just lifted the lid on the nearest dish when Mac reappeared carrying a small microwave, still in its box. He had not yet changed.
‘Melissa sent me with this,’ he said.
Rina beamed at him. ‘Good thinking. Right, let’s get it unpacked and plugged in.’
‘My mum’s got the same one as that,’ Robin announced. ‘Here, Viv and I will do it.’
‘There’s a plug over there, set it on the sideboard. Right.’
Rina stood back and let Viv and Robin take over. Rav seemed at a loss, but he took plates over when Viv asked him and helped to carry dishes to the sideboard to make serving easier. Terry joined in, getting in the way and offering helpful suggestions, glad of something that would break the tension.
‘What’s going on here, Rina?’ Jay came over and stood beside her.
‘I don’t know,’ she told him. ‘Jay, did you see anything unusual when you were out this morning? Did you meet anyone?’
He thought about it. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Nothing but crows and jackdaws out there this morning. I’ve never been in a place so quiet. I liked Edwin,’ he added. ‘I’d been reading his books for years – we’d attended the same events, even – but our paths never crossed properly until now.’
‘What made you agree to participate in all this?’
He shrugged. ‘Curiosity, I guess. I’ve participated in more bizarre events. None where someone got themselves murdered, though. Any word from Gail and David?’
‘Not so far as I know. Did you know them before this weekend?’
‘I arrived on Thursday, first time I met anyone here – except Terry, of course.’
‘Oh?’
He laughed, ‘You have a suspicious mind, Rina Martin. I was an adviser on one of his films. We hit it off and kept in touch. I heard about his new film and I was coming here so I was the one suggested it might be useful to him.’
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I suppose I’m feeling suspicious of just about everyone right now.’
Jay nodded. ‘Keep it up,’ he said. ‘Something tells me this isn’t ended by a long shot.’
SIXTEEN
A sad little group left Aikensthorpe that morning. Elizabeth had not waited to be told to go; she had packed what she could and told Sally that she would replace Abigail, her lady’s maid, for the journey. The girl had stared at her in horror and then murmured something that Elizabeth took to be agreement. In truth, that morning, Elizabeth had given l
ittle thought to the wishes of the servant girl, only to the fact that she could not travel alone. She had sent no word to her own family, knowing they would take Albert’s side.
‘Excuse me, ma’am, but where are we going?’ Sally asked her.
‘Rome.’ Elizabeth had made up her mind only in that second.
‘What? In Italy?’
‘Yes. We have a villa there that my husband does not use. He will not care that I use it now.’
‘On our own, miss? I mean ma’am?’
I wish I was a miss again, Elizabeth thought. ‘We will engage other servants,’ she said, realizing that she had never had to do such a thing. Her father and then her husband had taken care of such practicalities.
In the event, they did not go alone. Banks appeared just as they were loading the carriage. He had a carpet bag in one hand and a battered suitcase in the other. ‘I will ride with the driver,’ he said.
‘Banks?’
‘Begging your pardon, Mrs Southam, but Mr Southam won’t want any in the house that witnessed . . . Well, that witnessed what went on. I think it best I remain in your employ rather than be dismissed from Mr Southam’s, if you take my meaning.’
Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. She had not thought any of this through. Not considered the way in which her actions would cause such waves.
‘Thank you, Banks,’ she said. ‘I think we had better make speed before Mr Southam wakes, don’t you?’
Two men watched them leave that morning. George Weston smiled at their departure, gratified that this troublesome young bride had been so easily duped and then cast aside. Albert Southam, staring out from an upstairs window, briefly considered going down and preventing their departure, and then thought better of it. She would, no doubt, go to her father’s house, or maybe, if the thought of returning home in such disgrace had grown too much, to her sister in London. He did not yet know what to do about this or how he would ride the scandal about to break around them. Better for Elizabeth not to be here; her foolishness could only exacerbate the unpleasantness.
He tried not to think that he would miss her, comforted himself with the notion that she would return, seeking his forgiveness, his indulgence and the shelter of his reputation. No doubt he would indulge her wishes, but he would make her beg first.
The Dead of Winter Page 13