‘So it might have fallen after Emma disappeared?’
Silence fell as they digested what this might mean.
Maggie consulted her plan. ‘According to the records, there should be another way down into the mines closer to the slope of the fell, but a landslip has covered that up as well. The tunnels were connected. Shall we clear both entrances?’
‘I think so,’ Hannah said. ‘There may have been collapses underground as well. Let’s make sure we have good access. Di Venuto’s caller didn’t give details and we don’t want the whole team hanging around here longer than necessary.’
‘Too bloody right,’ Les said. ‘They’ll catch their death if it gets any colder.’
‘Let’s not attract too much attention too soon. Apart from Di Venuto we don’t have the Press on our backs, and he’s forced to keep his cards close to his chest, for fear he’ll lose his exclusive. We’re not being mithered by grieving relatives, but if we do find a body, all hell will break loose. Let’s make progress before the world and his wife come rubber-necking.’
‘Hey, no bugger in his right mind will tramp out to this God-forsaken spot.’
‘You’d be surprised. Mispickel may not be as popular as the Old Man or Levens Water, and the warning signs will scare off most people. But even in the depths of winter, a few hardy souls venture out. The minute we start work, the rumour mill down in the village will go into overdrive. We can’t hang around.’
‘How long are you going to give it?’
‘As long as it takes to find out whether Emma is buried here.’
‘Wherever she is, she must be warmer than me.’
‘So a camera survey is the first step?’ Maggie said hastily.
Hannah nodded. ‘Before we send the CSIs shinning down ropes, let’s shine a light into the shafts. See what we’ve got.’
Sarah proposed Sunday lunch at a pub she knew near Troutbeck. ‘My treat,’ she insisted, to Guy’s relief. He’d not made a penny since taking the money from Megan’s purse.
She drove a rusty old Citroen, painted an embarrassing orange. When, after five minutes of fiddling with the ignition key, she finally got it to start, it hissed and clanked and he wasn’t convinced they would make the round trip without breaking down. The heating didn’t work and she had the radio tuned to a brass band concert. At the traffic lights in Ambleside he asked how often she changed cars.
‘Don bought this little sweetie for me after the divorce. It wasn’t new then, of course. But he said it would be fine for my needs.’ She did something with the gear lever that sounded chaotic. ‘I don’t like driving much, I never travel far.’
Just as well. ‘How about asking him to replace it?’
‘He wouldn’t,’ she said with flat certainty.
‘He has obligations.’ Guy was hazy about divorce law, but he’d gained the impression from lads’ magazines that it favoured women at the expense of their former husbands. ‘Get him to put his hand in his pocket.’
‘He has a family to look after.’
‘You mustn’t let him off the hook. Honestly, if you want to give him a call, I can advise you about what to say.’
‘Oh, Rob, I couldn’t do that. I mean, I’m not proud or anything, but no woman likes to beg.’
He winced as they bounced over a speed bump. ‘It’s not begging. Simply a matter of making sure you get what is due.’
‘Really, I couldn’t. We agreed some time ago, we each had to make our own way in the world.’
‘But he deserted you after you’d given him the best years of your life.’
She glanced at him. ‘Not all the best years, I hope.’
Taking her eye off the road was a mistake. A lorry driver sounded his horn long and hard as the Citroen took a bend at speed and finished up on the other side of the road for twenty yards.
He said urgently, ‘You’re a woman on your own. Don should pick up more of the bills, it’s only right.’
‘I think he’s hoping I won’t be on my own for ever.’
Her complacency bothered him. How likely was it that she’d find a man who offered her a meal ticket for life? She didn’t even have much luck recruiting guests for the Glimpse. His concern was unselfish – what would happen to her after he moved on? It was as well that he’d been careful not to make any rash promises. Apart from a few whispered platitudes at moments of greatest intimacy, which obviously didn’t count, he’d said not a word to suggest that this was more than a fleeting romance. He didn’t want her to get any ideas about a long-term relationship. That wasn’t his kind of thing at all.
Miranda was back. Her face shone with excitement when he collected her from the station at Oxenholme. Ethan wanted to appoint her as an associate editor of the magazine and she wanted to know whether Daniel thought she should accept. Whether the new job title involved anything more than an increase in pay wasn’t clear, but she left him in no doubt what he was meant to say. Of course he said it.
‘Bite his hand off,’ he said as they left the grey limestone of Kendal behind. He was glad to see her happy and, besides, what else could he say?
‘Even though I’ll need to spend more time in London?’
‘Doesn’t have to be that way. With email and video conferencing, you can work remotely.’
She puffed out her cheeks. ‘In theory, fine. But I’m not sure that’s what happens in the real world.’
‘Give it a go. If you don’t enjoy it, you can always take a step down.’
‘Ethan wouldn’t take kindly to that. The last thing he said to me before I left the office was to think over the offer. If I say yes, I’m making a long-term commitment. He’s giving me the chance to put my own imprint on the magazine. But if I mess up, he’ll bring in someone else. That’s the way he operates, he’s a hard-nosed businessman. There will be no going back to the status quo.’
‘If you turn him down, you’ll regret it.’
‘But I want you to be happy with whatever I choose to do.’
As they reached the open road, he put his foot down. ‘I’m happy if you’re happy.’
She considered this. ‘That’s a cop-out, darling. I don’t want you to be miserable, stuck up here while I’m gadding about in the capital.’
‘I can come down and stay with you.’
‘Well, yes. But I will be busy most of the time. Don’t think I can just sit in the flat and entertain you. The editorial people are busy networking most nights. I’ll be able to wangle you an invitation to come to some events. But you once told me you didn’t care if you never attended another cocktail party or book launch in the rest of your life.’
‘I didn’t even enjoy my own book launch,’ he said. ‘Follow your instinct.’
‘You don’t want me to do it!’
‘I never said that.’
‘It’s what you meant!’
All of a sudden, she was spoiling for a fight. Not out of malice, but because she craved the buzz of quarrelling. A row energised her as much as it exhausted him. Time to draw a line.
‘Darling, I’ve already said go for it. What more can I add?’
She thrust out her lower lip. ‘All right. I’ll tell Ethan I’m on board. With your blessing.’
‘So tell me about yourself, Rob Stevenson.’
He was tempted to say: they call me Tusitala, the teller of tales. But it would sound too much like taking the piss. He caught the eye of a waitress and ordered another glass of wine. Sarah asked for an orange juice because she was driving and he didn’t press her to change her mind. The journey here had been hair-raising when she was sober.
‘Not much to tell.’
‘Now that I don’t believe!’ She wagged a finger. ‘You know, ever since we met, I’ve talked non-stop about myself. It’s time I found out a bit more about you.’
Didn’t she understand the deal? She chattered and he listened. It was for the best. There were things in his life she really wouldn’t want to know.
‘I’d much rather talk about yo
u.’
‘You’ve never mentioned any family. Are your parents alive? Do you have brothers and sisters?’
Funny question. Even funnier, the honest answer was that he didn’t know. He’d been put in the Home as a baby and nobody had ever come back to claim him. In his early days this provided endless scope for harmless fantasies. His favourite was that he was the bastard child of a peer of the realm, or a general or a gentleman farmer who owned a good deal of land. But when he told the other kids, their mockery was merciless. Some of them bullied him, a couple went further and did things that even now he preferred not to remember. As the years drifted by, he learned there was more pleasure and profit in making up stories about his own life, rather than someone else’s.
‘I’m the only one left, I’m afraid.’ The drinks arrived, not a moment too soon. ‘To be honest, it’s something I’d rather not talk about.’
‘Oh, I do understand.’ Her puzzled expression suggested otherwise, but she was a kind woman, unwilling to hurt. This reluctance to inflict pain was something they had in common. ‘Your work, then. Tell me about that.’
‘Well, that’s where I go wrong.’ The wine wasn’t bad. He just hoped to God she hadn’t forgotten her credit card. ‘All work and no play. Makes me a dull boy, I’m afraid.’
As he put down his glass, he felt her hand slide on to his thigh. ‘No, Rob, you may take me for a fool, but I’m not. You have hidden depths, you just don’t want me to explore them yet, that’s all. I mean, I can’t help being curious.’
‘Honestly, I’m not very interesting.’ The modesty of this convenient reply gave him a little jolt of pleasure, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy Sarah.
‘You’re a successful businessman and yet you live out of a single suitcase and never seem to do much work. Put yourself in my position. I can’t help adding two and two together.’
Oh shit. ‘And what answer do you come up with?’
He held his breath as he waited for her reply. She was stroking his leg through the twill of his trousers. A gentle, sympathetic movement.
‘You’ve been made redundant, haven’t you?’
A long silence. Her reply had come out of left field, but no matter. An escape hatch was opening up in front of him. He swallowed rather theatrically. Sometimes he thought he might have made a good living on the stage.
‘It’s … it’s uncanny. How did you guess?’
She blushed. ‘You know when you said you were going out to do some business the other day? Well, I followed you.’
He nearly choked on his steak. ‘What?’
‘You’re cross with me, aren’t you?’
‘No.’ He gulped down a mouthful of water. ‘Just amazed.’
He’d had no idea. Perhaps he should have noticed, but failing to do so was forgivable. Nobody expected their landlady to start shadowing them when they took walks in the country.
‘Oh thank goodness. I’ve worried ever since that day. You didn’t take your laptop with you, not even a mobile as far as I could see. You just walked and walked, as though you were lost in a daze. I tried to stay a safe distance behind, but I’m not that fit and after a mile you were out of sight. Please don’t be cross with me. I only did it because I was curious. And because I care.’
He’d underestimated her; not the first time he’d made such a mistake with a lover. Women caught you unawares sometimes, lulled you into a false sense of security with their silliness and then trapped you into an act of self-destruction.
He slipped his hand under the table and rested it on top of hers. ‘That was very wicked of you. But very sweet. I ought to tell you the full story, but it’s rather painful.’
‘If you’d rather say nothing …’
‘No, no. You deserve better than that.’
He smiled a soulful smile, buying time as his mind raced. She was leaning closer, her sympathy threatening to turn into a simper.
‘The company has put me on gardening leave. It’s very common in the world of high finance. My contract comes to an end next month and then I’ll be out of work. Until then I’m hanging on by my fingertips. It’s a cut-throat game I’m in, you see, and my figures for last quarter weren’t up to target. All because I wouldn’t let clients make investments when the market conditions weren’t right for their portfolios.’
‘Because you had their best interests at heart!’
A self-deprecating shrug. ‘We have a new global chief executive, an American wheeler-dealer. He’s only interested in numbers, not people. Ethics are fine, he says, but they don’t pay the wages. Unless I bring in more business before the end of the notice period, he’ll let me go. A couple of first class investment opportunities have emerged – but he’s already switched my clientele to another broker.’
‘That’s terrible!’
‘It goes with the territory. You won’t hear me complain.’
‘But …’
‘No, let’s change the subject. Please? It’s hard for me to talk about this stuff, after the years I’ve spent at the top of the tree.’
She took a swig of orange juice. ‘I’d like to help.’
Got away with it! His pulse was racing, but he’d not lost his touch. Seriously, this was better than sex.
‘You help me just by being you.’ He touched her hot hand, trying to keep the triumph out of his voice. ‘Thanks for being so understanding. I think you realise – it will take a long time for me to trust someone completely again.’
A light shone in her eyes. He knew she was making up her own happy ending.
At first, Hannah had dismissed Jeremy’s suggestion that she consult Alban Clough about the Arsenic Labyrinth, but on reflection it wasn’t such a bad idea. She headed back to the Museum of Myth and Legend while Les and the CSIs debated the risk assessment for the exploration of Mispickel Scar. She doubted whether the small print of the Health and Safety at Work Act required a Senior Investigating Officer to check the crime scene for curses. But if you never asked, you never found out.
Alban saw her in his daughter’s chilly office, under the watchful eyes of Armstrong and Betty Clough in their gilded frames. What must it be like to belong to a dynasty? Family expectations might be claustrophobic, but inheriting a fortune eased the pressure. Alban didn’t seem to have felt any duty to conform. After the sale of the business, he’d been free to pursue his dream. On the phone, Hannah hadn’t explained why she wanted to see him and when she asked about the Arsenic Labyrinth, his tufted eyebrows rose.
‘Why would a busy police officer investigating a ten-year-old disappearance want to bother her head about a half-forgotten old legend?’
‘I was fascinated by your story about Gawain and the Loathly Lady.’ Tongue in cheek, but she could play games just like this strange old satyr. ‘The labyrinth is associated with the Inchmore family. I thought I should consult the oracle.’
‘You are right, Chief Inspector, to proceed on the basis that flattery will get you – almost everywhere. But what you say is hardly an answer.’
‘I’m afraid that’s as close as it gets.’ She half-rose from her chair. ‘Of course, if you’re not able to help, I will quite understand. Apologies again for intruding on your Sunday.’
‘Please sit down. You must forgive my curiosity.’ He bared his teeth. ‘I am really quite insatiable. But of course I’m willing to offer assistance. It’s a pleasure to see you once more so soon after our last little chat. Which I much enjoyed, by the way. Besides, I don’t want you to arrest me for obstructing you in the course of your duty.’
Hannah gave a tight smile and waited. He breathed in noisily and lifted his head, as if seeking inspiration in the carved ceiling. It occurred to her that he relished having an audience. Was he lonely, this rich man in his castle, despite the presence of his daughter and the vast rooms crammed with displays representing a lifetime’s work?
‘Do you see me as a foolish, fond old man, Chief Inspector?’ His words had a sharp bite. ‘I regard myself as more sinn’d against than s
inning.’
To me, you’ll always be King Leer. ‘I’m not so naïve as to regard you as foolish, Mr Clough. And I can’t imagine who would dare to sin against you.’
He lifted his head and launched into a speech so fluent that she was sure he’d made it many times before. ‘My enemies, Chief Inspector Scarlett, are the social engineers, the dolts who chide me for not making this place more socially inclusive. How absurd. Why should I pander to the unwashed and uneducated masses? What do they care for the lore of our green and pleasant land? And then there are the faceless bureaucrats. The planning authorities, the safety apparatchiks, the council flunkeys who impose pettifogging rules upon us and Draconian penalties for any failure to comply. This is not the V & A, nor even the Abbot Hall, but I am expected to pay out a king’s ransom for building insurance, to say nothing of installing a new sprinkler system. My preference for candle-light rather than punitively priced electricity caused such a disagreement with the chief fire officer that I was forced to ask him to leave my home before I threw him out on his ear. After devoting more than half a century to my collection, I am treated as a pariah because I loathe paperwork and tick-boxes as much as I detest the vogue for interactive gadgets to keep tiny minds amused.’
When he paused for breath, she said, ‘Isn’t paperwork your daughter’s department?’
He nodded. ‘Without her calm efficiency, the museum would have closed years ago. But not even a woman as astute as Alexandra can cope with everything. This museum celebrates the truth that there is a logic in lore and legend more pertinent than anything to be found in the statute book. Yet the absurdities of modern legislation are such that, if we fail to obtain a substantial grant towards the cost of so-called improvements, we will have to close our doors to the public.’
‘You’ve run out of funds?’
Alban Clough glanced over his shoulder at the stern likeness of his father. ‘I was left well provided for after the family business was sold, Chief Inspector, and it has been my proud boast that the museum has made a loss in each year of its existence. Were it otherwise, I would have failed in my duty to educate those who come here to learn something of our magical heritage. We sell neither ice creams nor fridge magnets. As visitor numbers have fallen, I have rejoiced. At least we may concentrate our energies upon those who really care for what we do. The admission fees don’t even cover the utilities bill. I confess that, unlike my forbears, I am no businessman. But it would take a Croesus to cope with the demands of the pen-pushers. If I do not call a halt soon, I shall be bankrupt and my daughter will be left not only without a job but also without a penny to her name. It is a scandal! An outrage!’
The Arsenic Labyrinth Page 14