A Well Kept Secret

by A. B. King

  “Well, I think I have held my peace long enough,” she remarked as they finally drew apart, and apparently divining his thoughts, “What have you discovered?”

  “Your patience does you credit, madam,” he observed in a slightly facetious tone. “So, first of all, the good news; I’ve learned that that your delightful husband seems to have been frightened off, and has returned to his old stamping ground. Somehow, I don’t think he will ever bother you again.”

  “If he has actually given up, then maybe I’ll sleep better,” she remarked. “I just hope you information is correct.”

  “I can assure you it comes from a usually impeccable source.”

  “I suppose I shall just have to take your word for it?”

  “Like I said, that was the good news. I think that perhaps the less than good news you had better read for yourself.”

  He drew the letter from his pocket as he was speaking, and passed it over to her. She accepted it, searched his eyes for a moment, and then settled down to read. Covertly he watched her expression, and he saw the tightening round her eyes as she took in what the doctor was saying, and his heart went out to her. Eventually she passed the letter back to him.

  “I suppose I always knew in my heart he was dead,” she said quietly at last. “I’ve been fighting that conviction for years, and in a way I’m glad that I finally know the truth. I can understand why the doctor never told me, and I can imagine how much it tortured him. I think it is terrible that my father died so needlessly. My only grain of comfort is that from what the doctor has written, he probably never knew what happened.”

  “I’m quite sure he never knew anything. I’m very sorry it has ended this way; at least you now know that he never willingly deserted you or your mother.”

  “I always knew he would never do that; that is why I always instinctively knew that he was no longer alive.”

  She shrugged, and forced a fleeting smile onto her face as she looked back at Martin.

  “To think that the doctor knew who I was, yet couldn’t tell me. What a terrible burden he was carrying.” She glanced up suddenly and added; “You think that Burton murdered him as well, don’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “But Dr Rawlinson signed a certificate to say that he had died of natural causes?”

  “He had no reason to suspect otherwise; everything pointed to just that. There was no post-mortem, remember, because there were no suspicious circumstances. I think Burton broke in, injected something lethal while the doctor slept, and then left the same way he came. A perfect murder if you like. It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing has happened, I doubt it will be the last.”

  “The very thought that I was there in the flat when that happened makes me shudder!”

  “Somehow, I think my uncle was almost ready for it. You said yourself that the light went out of him when his wife died. He had made sure that you were as safe as was ever possible, he had made the best provision for the future he could, he says clearly enough in the letter he no longer had any reason for living .At least he is now at peace with his beloved wife.”

  “Perhaps you are right; I still believe that in spite of everything he was a good man and deserved much better.”

  “I think he would be relieved to hear that you bear him no resentment because he could never bring himself to tell you the terrible truth.”

  “Then I suppose the important thing is deciding what we should do now?” she said, shaking her head as if to rid it of an unpleasant memory. “We can’t let matters rest now, can we?”

  “I’ve no intention of letting anything rest,” he agreed, “and that is the real reason why I’m going to shift the girls out of here in the morning. Peter Buxted is coming, remember, and if he is our man, I don’t want the added complication of children here when I confront him.”

  “You really think it is him?”

  “In my book it has to be either him or Edwards. I may be totally wrong of course; maybe there is someone else hanging around we haven't seen or suspected as yet, but for my money it is quite likely to be him. I’ve no real proof of course; I’m going to see if I can get him to incriminate himself out of his own mouth. You have a recorder in your flat, we should be able rig that up somewhere and hide a microphone.”

  “And if it is Edwards?”

  “If Buxted doesn’t fit the bill, maybe I’ll confront him when he next turns up? The offer on the house has been withdrawn, and for my money that means whoever is behind everything, the unknown person Phillip Burton is masquerading as, will now show his hand in the very near future.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “Then proof or no proof, if no progress is made within the next day or so we will have no choice other than to take everything we know to the police and let them deal with it. I've searched the grounds thoroughly for any sign of a well and drawn blank. They have resources we can never match, and if there is a well here, they will find it.”

  “The well has to be somewhere, perhaps you haven't yet looked in the right place?”

  “Obviously!”

  “Then with the little time we have left we ought to turn this place upside down right now, it has to be somewhere!”

  “I quite agree, but I’ve told you; I've already searched the grounds from end to end this afternoon, and unless the well is under the patio, then there is no visible sign of it left.”

  There was silence between them for a few moments.

  “The patio,” she exclaimed suddenly, “of course!”

  “What?”

  “The patio outside the kitchen,” she said excitedly, “It hadn’t been added to the property for more than a year or so before I first came here. When the house was built, where more natural for a well to be located than close by the rear of the house it was serving?”

  “You may have a point there,” Martin agreed thoughtfully. “Dobson’s clerk Jim Perkins said something like that. Now that you mention it, I seem to recall that somewhere amongst all those bills and receipts I was wading through I think I saw one from a builder who carried out the work. I will ring him on Monday and ask if he had to fill in or cap a well when he laid it. Yes, the more I think about it, the more I think you could be right!”

  She was silent for a while, and then she turned to look at Martin again.

  “I think that all of this has solved another problem for you,” she remarked.

  “Oh, like what?”

  “It is obvious that no matter what you decide to do with the house, I couldn’t stay on here now; everything I see would remind me of what happened to my father, and worse, it would always remind me of what happened to the doctor. There are too many ghosts here for me ever to be happy again in this place. I will give up the lease of the flat whenever you wish, that will enable you to sell the house, and maybe in the end I will find peace.”

  “Then naturally you must come with me.”

  She looked at him thoughtfully, and he could see that there were tears glistening in the corner of her eyes.

  “Do you really want me that much?” she asked at last.

  “You know I do!”

  “But how can you be so sure? No, please don’t misunderstand me; I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, but would it really work? Have you really stopped to think this business right through? Just because we have slept together doesn’t mean that I am going to try to hold you to anything. I didn’t give in to you; it was something I needed to do, and I shall be everlastingly grateful to you for freeing me from something I thought was going to ruin my life forever. What we did last night is something I shall treasure for the rest of my life, but I wouldn't want to hold you to anything Martin.”

  “Of course it would work,” he almost shouted at her. “For God’s sake; I love you, June, and I need you!”

  “Martin, I don’t doubt you mean what you say,” she protested, “but you have to face facts. The reality of the situation is that I’m a complete nobody; a jumped-up char, a worn out
and discarded sex-toy. I’ve no background, no education, and no class. I am nothing more than the orphaned daughter of a common criminal. No, please hear me out; you hale from the opposite end of the social scale; you have background, breeding, money, a university education, social standing, and you are a big business man. You have no choice other than to be completely honest with yourself; do you really need to be saddled with a handicap like me for the rest of your life?”

  Martin felt completely shocked by her words. It was true that until she had voiced the fact for herself, the differences in their social background had never crossed his mind, and that was because they meant nothing to him. It was her personality that mattered, and the chances of ever finding another person with whom he genuinely desired to share the remainder of his life was non-existent. The thought of rejecting her for any reason had never once crossed his mind. If she had said that she didn’t love him as her loved her, he would have accepted it, even though it would have broken his heart.

  He reached across and folded her to his breast, stroking her hair as he fought to find the right words to tell her exactly how he felt about her.

  “Everything I said is true,” he whispered. “I love you June, I don’t care about anything else. You are as good as anyone, in fact a whole lot better than most if you want the truth. I don’t give a damn about background or social position or education, it is who you are as a person that counts, and you are a person who ‘counts’ more for me than anyone else I’ve met since Alicia has died; more than anyone else I ever will! Without you, my life will be nothing. I will never rest until you agree to be my wife, to share everything with me for as long as we both shall live.”

  Presently her arms stole round him, and after a while she lifted her face up to his, the tears slowly coursing down her cheeks.

  “Oh Martin,” was all she could say, and then their lips met in the gentlest of kisses.

  Presently, when they finally pulled apart a little she said; “Then I will come to you, just as you said I would. But you don’t have to marry me; I will stay just as long as you want me to, and when the time comes, I will bow out without a word.”

  “Oh no you won't, June,” he said quietly but adamantly. “You will come under my roof as a free woman, and only on the understanding that once we have secured a divorce from your husband will I have the right to ask you to make me the happiest man in the world. I shall propose to you time and time again until you accept me! I want you to be my wife, not my mistress!”

  Suddenly she smiled, and brushed away a tear. “If you say so,” she said, trying to inject a lighter note, “but may I ask you something?”

  “Ask me anything you like”

  She looked at him coyly. “Will you not permit me to be your mistress just whilst we are here under this roof? I have a feeling that I need quite a bit more practice yet before I feel confident that I am woman enough to qualify as a real wife!”

  He smiled broadly in return. “You are not the only one who needs a bit of practice,” he retorted, “therefore my door is always open, but only to you!”

  “Then may I suggest that we check to see if the girls are asleep, and then perhaps retire?”

  “I was on the point of suggesting much the same thing myself!”

  It was already well past midnight as they re-entered the building. They ascended the stairs quietly and peered carefully into the girl’ bedroom. All was quiet and peaceful, and satisfied that all was well they went along the hallway where June whispered to Martin that she would join him in a few moments. He went on to his own room and sat on the edge of the bed, his mind still in a complete turmoil. He was a grown man with a teenage daughter, and yet he felt as excited as a youngster making his first conquest! It was quite ridiculous, yet he knew that if she had rejected him it would have been something he would have found extremely difficult to live with. It wasn’t just the sexual side of things, although without the shadow of a doubt that was something out of this world, it was everything about her. In a way, it was like having Alicia at his side again, and yet there was nothing he could think of that they had in common beyond both being thoroughly good and decent people. He tried very hard to steer his mind away from the thought of sharing his bed with her yet again, and to concentrate on the very real threat that could face the pair of them. Somewhere not so far from where they were at that very moment the remains of June’s father lay, and the man who had put him there, the man who may very well have murdered his uncle, knew that there was a risk of his secret being laid bare. Believing that the man would do nothing about it was living in a fool’s paradise. It had been a well-kept secret all these years, and he would undoubtedly do anything to keep it that way.

  The irony of that last thought suddenly struck him; ‘a well kept secret’, it was certainly that! If only Phillip Burton knew that he had searched high and low for the well without the slightest degree of success he wouldn’t need to risk another killing, or even more! It then occurred to him that if he had been sure that the body was so well concealed; then he wouldn’t have bothered to show his hand at all! If that was true, then if followed that he suspected that a new tenant, irrespective of whether it was a relative or a total stranger might conceivably stumble upon the well by chance. The corollary of that was the fact that the well was actually still in existence; as June has so rightly pointed out, he just hadn’t looked for it in the right place yet. His mind dwelt on that concept for a minute or so until quite out of the blue the obvious answer hit him! He had been scouring the grounds looking for the well without success; that was inevitable because it was not there because it never had been! The answer had been staring him in the face almost from the time he had arrived at Springwater House, only he had been too blind to see it!

  As he jumped up from the bed, June came into the room, still dressed, but carrying her nightwear over her arm. She looked up at him in mild alarm.

  “Martin,” she exclaimed, startled by his sudden flurry of activity. “What on Earth’s the matter?”

  “I’ve found it,” he exclaimed, grabbing and hugging her so fiercely it squeezed the breath out of her.

  Disengaging herself from his embrace she looked up at him in astonishment.

  “What, the lost chord?”

  “No, you muddle-minded-mistress, the well!”

  “You’re not serious?”

  “Maybe I haven’t actually found it; it came to me in a flash just a moment ago; it’s just like you said, we have been looking in the wrong place!”

  “Fine, so where is the right place?”

  “Do you remember me asking you about the new panelling in lower hallway; the place which I remembered was a cupboard when I came here as a child?”

  “Yes.”

  “I was hiding in that cupboard on my last visit to this house. That is probably why my uncle in his letter assumed that I knew exactly where the well was! I’ve only just realised that was no cupboard, my guess is that it was the access to the cellar, and unless I am very much mistaken, in that cellar there will be a well!”

  “You really think so?”

  “I’ll bet you a pound to a pinch of snuff that’s where it is! Come on, we will never sleep now unless we can prove this one way or another.”

  Without waiting for an answer he propelled her out the door, and quietly but quickly they descended the stairs and went straight round to look at the new panelling.

  “That explains something else!” Martin muttered half to himself as he examined closely.

  “Liked what?”

  “I recall thinking at the time that it was strange that Peter Buxted hadn’t noticed the new panelling after claiming to be a frequent visitor; I’m now virtually certain he is our man. There was no way he would ever draw my attention to this, yet obviously he fears that sooner or later I might want to investigate. No wonder he agreed to return here tomorrow; he wants to see if anything has developed!”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “We are going to get t
his panelling off right now and see if I’m right!”

  “You will wake the girls!”

  “It’s a risk we will have to take; I’ll do it as quietly as possible. Now that I look closely, I can see that this whole new section is held in position by screws. With luck we can remove it without damage or disruption. Do you have any screwdrivers in the kitchen?”

  “Yes, as it happens I do.”

  She vanished into the kitchen to return a few moments later with a selection of screwdrivers. Martin picked out the one he needed, and working silently and methodically, he proceeded to remove each screw in turn, passing them over to June as he went. From beginning to end it took a good ten minutes before the last screw was out.

  “Right, now let’s see if this whole section will lift out,” he muttered.

  He prised carefully down one side with a thin bladed screwdriver, and then down the opposite side, and presently he exposed enough of the edge for him to get a grip with his fingers. Moving quietly and carefully, he eased it out of its position, until at last the panelling, mounted on a stout wooden frame came free. He moved it away from its position to rest it carefully on one side before peering into the recess behind.

  It was as if the clock had suddenly been turned back a quarter of a century. Within the recess was the door he remembered from his childhood, the door through which he had plunged in a vain effort to hide on that last visit. The whole door and its frame had been moved inwards to enable the panelling to be put across the opening, yet it was unquestionably the same door. Instinctively, he knew that beyond it he would find the answers to the questions that had plagued him since coming to Springwater House. He looked back to where June stood at his shoulder, and he realised how she must feel, knowing that somewhere beyond that dark recess she would almost certainly find the end of her own life’s quest.

  “Are you game for this?” he asked quietly. “You don’t have to come you know?”

  She smiled bravely. “I’ve come this far,” she replied, “I want to see this through to the end!”