Rupert nodded knowingly – this had been the state of affairs between him and Laura; although he had finally persuaded her into marriage, probably more by slow attrition than outright conquest. “What about Tom?”
“Well, he is a close sort of person – inscrutable; so it’s hard to tell. I tend to assume as a default that all men will fall for Emerald. Tom’s a physicist, but a great reader – I think he gets distracted, which is why he went off-course last year. But I didn’t put his distraction down to romantic troubles; at least, not with Emerald as the object.”
Further disclosures were precluded by the return of the others. A little discussion between them and Fred and Rupert were persuaded to book into a hotel and stay for the weekend at least. No one ever needed much excuse to spend time in Cambridge whilst the weather was fine and river and parks inviting, but the real reason was Fred’s anxiety and desire to stay until he was sure that Emerald was safe. Emerald refused to involve the police – on the basis that the story would be sure to end up in the press and attract even more adverse attention. Rupert phoned Laura to explain, and then he and Fred took Emerald out for a fish supper. The following day dawned cloudless and a brief exchange of texts secured an arrangement for the two older men to meet up with Emerald and her friends for the obligatory punt down the Cam. Scorning the chauffeured punts, the group secured two boats with Rupert, Fred and Emerald in one, Georgie, James and Tom in the other. Both Rupert and James had previous experience and manoeuvred the boats out with graceful skill, making the handling of the pole and the standing position balanced on the back of the punt look easy and natural. A number of newcomers belied this impression, losing their poles in the mud, wedging their boats horizontally across the river, and committing every error in the catalogue short of falling into the water.
Their trip on the river took them past St John’s College and under the Bridge of Sighs, the ladies relaxed and graceful in their summer frocks which were out for their last showing with just the help of a cardigan in deference to the hint of autumn in the air. The excursion did the trick and, after stopping off for a pub lunch, Emerald returned to her room with the group for a cup of coffee feeling relaxed and calm. There was a little coming and going as various members of the company popped to the bathroom and Fred went out to buy a pint of milk. Eventually they were all settled, making themselves comfortable on the bed and an odd assortment of chairs such as is usually found in student accommodation. Only Emerald was missing – and nobody could remember if she had slipped out to the toilet, to fetch some more mugs or to borrow some milk.
“She’s probably gone to the kitchen – I’ll go and check,” said James.
“I’d better go to the girl’s bathroom,” said Georgie.
“Why not just phone her?” suggested Rupert. “She always keeps her mobile in her pocket.” And he and Fred went down the corridor and outside in search of a signal. Tom followed them for a moment and then wandered off in the opposite direction on a search of his own. Amidst all this fuss and movement, the door to Emerald’s room was left on the latch until they all reassembled after their various failures. In the meantime, Emerald, who had set off for an upstairs kitchen in the search for borrowed milk, returned to find her door ajar and the room deserted. A quick glance around told her that Georgie’s handbag was still there as was her uncle’s jacket, so she deduced that they hadn’t gone far, although she couldn’t understand why everyone had disappeared. She was just about to look out into the corridor when something caught her eye. On her bed was a doll, its head broken from the body. A closer examination confirmed that this doll was one of the replicas made of her character from Barnstable – a truly grotesque Emerald lookalike. Beside the doll was a piece of paper with a single word scrawled on it: “Tonight.” Coming on top of the rabbit incident it was too much for Emerald who felt a sudden rush of nausea and dashed to the nearest toilet. It was only then, of course, that the others returned.
“No sign of Emerald?”
“No. You?”
“Nothing.”
The five of them looked one to another until Rupert caught sight of the doll and the note. He picked up the note and passed it to Fred.
“What does this mean?” asked Fred.
“Other than a threat, I don’t know. Anyone could have walked into the room and left it whilst we were out looking for Emerald,” responded Rupert.
“The someone who has abducted her! We really must call the police now,” exclaimed Fred. “This is virtually a death threat.” Just then there was a knock on the door and they all jumped. Tentatively Rupert opened it to reveal an alarmed-looking female student.
“There’s something going on in the bathroom. Someone is shouting and screaming, but the door’s locked.”
Rupert shoved almost rudely past her, closely followed by Fred and the others. The bathroom contained a couple of sinks, a shower cubicle and two toilets with doors locked by old-fashioned key and keyhole. One of these was being rattled vigorously from within and what was unmistakeably Emerald’s voice was calling, “Get me out! Who locked me in! Get me out!” almost hysterically.
“But I searched for her in here!” exclaimed Georgie. “It was the first place I looked and all the toilets were empty.”
Rupert, meanwhile, put his shoulder to the door and broke it down and Emerald emerged, sobbing. The key was later found neatly dropped into the second toilet.
Once Emerald had washed and composed herself, the sequence of events was unravelled and it was clear that she was locked in only after they had all gone to look for her, and after she had seen the doll.
“I felt sick, and had just pulled the door closed behind me. I didn’t see the key in the lock my side where it usually is, but I wasn’t bothered. Someone must have put it the other side and I suddenly heard it turn and realised I was trapped and just panicked.”
“And whilst we were running all over the place, someone was able to place the doll and take the opportunity to lock you in the toilet,” said Rupert bitterly. “And, of course, no one saw anything!”
“But the note says something will happen tonight,” mused Tom. “So why don’t we just take it in turns to watch? There are four of us to be on guard, even if we just sit in the room – so Emerald need never be alone.”
“But Emerald doesn’t have to stay here at all,” exclaimed Fred. “She can stay at the hotel tonight or, better still, I can take her back to Hampton.”
“But then we won’t catch whoever it is,” said Emerald in a low and now composed voice, her eyes flashing and her pale, beautiful face resolute.
Fred took her by the shoulders. “I just want you safe!” he said.
“She would be safe,” said Rupert, picking up on Tom’s suggestion, “if we watch over her – one man in the room with her, one on the lookout outside for whoever comes.”
“And what if they have a gun!” said Fred desperately.
“If they had a gun, they wouldn’t have used a crossbow. This is England! – guns are rare, and this has descended more into scare tactics than a genuine threat. If someone wanted to kill Emerald and had the wherewithal to do it, they would have done it by now. This is all about intimidation, and it’s time it stopped.”
Against Fred’s objections and with Emerald’s insistence to carry the decision, it was agreed that Fred and James would watch for the first half of the night, Rupert and Tom for the second.
Although the day had been warm, the mid-October night came on cold but dry, and the watchers all bundled up in thick jumpers and scarves. James had taken the first stint, quietly moving from the long corridor and through the outside door to the car park. Although the College was locked down at night and access was only through the main entrance where the Porters Lodge was manned, the door nearest to Emerald’s room had card access and James had her card so that he could let himself back in after taking a look outside her windows for any signs of a would-be intruder. It was both a possibility that her stalker was already concealed somewhere in t
he building or that they were prepared in such a way that locked doors posed only a slight challenge. Fred had stayed with Emerald in her room and when Rupert came to begin a second shift, he found his friend ashen-faced and anxious.
“I tried to get Tizz to sleep,” Fred confided to Rupert in a low voice. “I made her some cocoa and I think that she dozed for a bit. She seems calmer than I am.”
“Well, it’s not long until morning now,” said Rupert. “In a way I’m more worried about nothing happening than something. At least we are here and prepared tonight. It is going to be very difficult for Tizz to carry on with a vague threat hanging over her at all times.”
Fred nodded in reluctant agreement. They were standing just outside Emerald’s door and Tom joined them.
“You stay with Emerald in her room,” Rupert instructed him. “I’ll keep an eye on things out here – and you, Fred, get back to the hotel and try to sleep. I’ll text you and let you know if everything is all right.”
The three men parted and Tom gently closed Emerald’s door behind him and smiled at her. She was dressed in a soft, grey tracksuit which served reasonably well as night clothes. Her dark hair was loose and her blue eyes bright in her pale face.
“All peaceful?” asked Tom.
“Yes. Would you like me to make you some coffee?”
“Thanks.”
Emerald made a cup for them both and they chatted a little in low voices about the book she had been reading and then half-dozed in their chairs. There was no sound from Rupert outside and as dawn crept in through the windows a feeling of anticlimax stole over Emerald. She had wanted matters resolved so that she could get on with her life. Tom had gone to the widows a couple of times to look outside. Doing this for a third time he gave a sudden gasp and, with great speed, threw up the window and climbed out. Emerald, who had been all but asleep, jumped up too and went to stare out after him. There was the short space of the car park and then a gate to the pavement beyond, and it was there that Tom was grappling with a figure in a blue cagoule with the hood up. There was a light drizzle in the air and a feeling of early morning chill. The person in the coat seemed to be a stronger build than the slender Tom and soon managed to thrust him to the ground. Just then Rupert – who must have heard the kerfuffle – emerged from inside the building and called to Tom: “Stay with Emerald!” Tom had picked himself up and seemed to be examining himself for bruises before returning through the now open door and back into Emerald’s room. Rupert was seen running down the road in a long-limbed dash that was more effective than elegant. Emerald stood anxiously by her door ready to usher Tom back in and closed it behind him.
“Who was the person – anyone you recognised?”
Tom shrugged indifferently. “No idea: just the first innocent early morning passerby who caught my eye. I just hope they can run fast and fight well and keep the annoying Rupert out of the way for long enough.”
Emerald’s stomach performed a nasty twist inside her. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I say.” Tom was rubbing one wrist with his hand as if to test if it had been damaged. His narrow face was pale and set, his cold eyes flicking up to observe Emerald with only the smallest sign of interest. “I’m just amazed that you hadn’t realised that the person trying to make you leave was me – you ruined my life! But I guess you are so wrapped up in yourself you didn’t notice.”
“I ruined your life! How?” Emerald was too flabbergasted by this sudden and unexpected announcement to feel fear for the moment.
“My first year at Cambridge was the first time I had ever been happy – the first time I’d had a true friend. James and I meant everything to each other from the first day we met – and then you came along.”
Emerald looked confused. “But James and I are just friends – and I thought you and James were just friends.”
Tom shrugged. “Who knows what James and I might have been – you ruined all that. Of course you knew what you were doing to him with your film star looks and oh-so-glamorous life. I did hope that you might go back to America and then James and I could be like we used to be – but you just couldn’t take a hint. I don’t care anymore. I’ll make sure that you are out of James’s life for good!”
There was something about the cold voice and frozen expression of the young man that told Emerald more than his words. She knew that he had decided to kill her and she knew that he wasn’t rational. Extraordinarily she felt more annoyed by the nonsense of his attitude than frightened by the danger it put her in. Somehow it wasn’t personal – he had just focused on her and blamed her for his failures rather than taking responsibility for his own problems.
“Killing me won’t give you James. And even with Rupert out of the way, it will be pretty obvious that you are to blame for my death. Honestly, this isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“You are missing the point – I said that I don’t care anymore. My life’s over anyway – I just don’t see why you should get to enjoy yours.” Tom had stopped rubbing his wrist and looked at Emerald with cool calculation. He was only slightly taller than her and of a wiry rather than a strong build. However, when he put his hands about her throat he had an iron grip and an equally resolute determination to continue despite her kicks and blows as she struggled. Emerald’s anger still hadn’t given way to fear when her eyes flicked shut.
They were sitting in the lounge of the hotel. “When did you realise that it was Tom?” Fred asked Rupert as he poured a second cup of tea for himself and his niece.
“Well, I’d had niggling doubts about him ever since he suggested the night watch – and I was pretty sure someone quite close to Emerald was responsible; but I just couldn’t fix him with a motive. Then I caught up with the man that Tom had sent me after, tumbled him to the ground, and realised when I was sitting on top of him that it was Felix Hammond – a fellow archaeologist lately of Pembroke: just the sort of man to take an early morning walk and not at all the sort of man to obsessively target a beautiful young film star. And I suddenly thought of Emerald alone in her room with Tom.”
“Well I’m glad your mental processes were so quick or Tom might well have throttled me for good and all,” said Emerald, cautiously fingering a light silk scarf which concealed the bruises around her neck. The colour had come back to her face as they munched on a plate of teatime scones, lunch having been more or less missed in the chaos of the day. She wore a plain skirt and blouse and still managed to draw the eyes of all in the room by her classic but vibrant beauty.
“Funny; I never suspected Tom,” said Georgie. “I noticed that he was obsessed with James and I knew that James was besotted with you, but Tom was always such a cold fish I never thought that murderous resentments burned within. I always fancied Dr Tallford in the role of malefactor.”
“And apparently I don’t notice anything much about anyone,” said Emerald ruefully. “I just thought of James and Tom as friends that it was pleasant to pass the time with.”
“That’s me and Lucy,” said Georgie, cheerfully helping herself to strawberry jam. “I don’t love her, she doesn’t love me and neither of us fancies you one little bit! – you are quite safe with us.”
“That’s good to know,” replied Emerald uncertainly.
“What have they done with Tom, anyway?” asked Georgie.
“He has been arrested,” replied Rupert. “However, it seems that Tom has had some sort of breakdown and Emerald made his attack sound more like a pitiful cry for help that a real attempt at murder.”
“And some people say I’m not a good actress...”
“But you will stay at Cambridge, Tom or no Tom?” asked Georgie.
“Yes. But Uncle Fred says he is going to buy a house here, so I think I’ll move in with him and get a bit more privacy and security.”
“Laura and I are going to help him house hunt,” added Rupert. “She’s due here with Florence in about an hour and we can stay the whole week.”
“So all’s well,” added Emeral
d.
“Except,” continued Rupert, “that once the story of unrequited passion and attempted murder hits the press, your chances of remaining low profile will be even less than before...”
The Coach House Mystery
It was one of the hottest days of a dismal summer, coming a bit late as September ousted August. At midday it was too hot for the fair-skinned Rupert to enjoy the heat of the sun, and he had found refuge in one of the dilapidated outhouses of Claresby Manor. There were stables, a coach house and an old granary; none of which had been renovated since his wife, Laura – the Lady of the Manor – had discovered treasure on the land of her impoverished family and rescued Claresby Manor’s fortunes. When Laura came out to find her husband, she was holding the hand of a tottering Florence – now nearly two years old and a vision of prettiness in a flower-sprigged dress and a straw hat on elastic, which kept slipping from her head. Rupert had opened wide the rickety doors to the coach house and saw them coming. As befitted a young father, he immediately stopped what he was doing and exclaimed,
The Claresby Collection: Twelve Mysteries Page 18