by Bill Kitson
‘I told her it would be OK,’ Charlie added, glaring at each of us in turn, as if defying us to contradict him.
‘Charlie’s right,’ Eve reassured her, ‘we’ll be happy to have you to stay.’
Moments later, Crowther and Sheila returned. Although neither of them was smiling, it was clear that some form of agreement had been reached. ‘Sheila and I have a lot to talk about,’ Crowther said. ‘Things we can only discuss on our own.’ His voice reflected a level of confidence I hadn’t seen before, which augured well. ‘We wondered if you could look after Trudi tonight and tomorrow?’
‘Trudi’s already asked us,’ Eve told them. ‘And Charlie would never have forgiven us if we’d said no to the girl he idolizes.’
I have to say that if Eve had tried her hardest, she couldn’t have come up with a more effective revenge on Charlie for his earlier comment than by embarrassing him in front of Trudi. He went bright scarlet, and his colour was enhanced even more when Trudi turned and smiled at him.
We left a few minutes later, and whilst I took Sheila’s suitcase from the car, we waited for Trudi and Sheila to say their farewells. Charlie nudged me, he was smiling, and knowing how keen an observer of people he was, I thought I could guess what was coming. ‘Adam, do you remember when Mr Crowther was talking about the work he’d done to renovate the house, didn’t he say he’d only bought one bed? Maybe I got that wrong.’
‘No, Charlie, you didn’t get it wrong, as you know very well. However, we do have several beds at Eden House, and all our bedroom doors have locks on them, so don’t let what’s happening here influence you.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he protested. ‘And I have to say I think you’ve got a very dirty mind.’
Chapter Eleven
As I drove, I listened to the conversation in the back seat. Eve was asking Trudi about her childhood. ‘It must have been difficult for your mother, bringing you up on her own, but I must say she’s done a terrific job.’
‘I did miss having a father, but now I know why he wasn’t there I can understand. Mum has been great. I never gave it any thought before, but she must have been heartbroken when I insisted that I wanted to make singing my career. She never told me what had happened, just that my father was dead. I realize now that she must have been afraid of history repeating itself, but she never showed it. As for the rest, the trust Gerry … er … my father arranged ensured we had all we needed, and then there was Mum’s salary. She’s a teacher,’ Trudi explained, ‘and a very good one. Even without her pay, we were never short of money.’
Trudi’s words acted as a catalyst, and as I mulled her phrase, “we were never short of money” the elusive memory that had haunted me since our first talk with Crowther hit home. So sudden and surprising was the revelation that I slammed the brakes on, bringing the car to a juddering halt. ‘Adam, what is the matter?’ Eve asked. ‘Are you all right?’
I smiled into the rear-view mirror. ‘I’m fine. Sorry about the emergency stop, but what Trudi said sparked off a memory. Something about having enough money set me thinking.’
‘It must have been some thought,’ Charlie remarked, ‘because it nearly sent me through the windscreen.’
‘Sorry about that, Charlie. Think back to the first time we saw Gerry and he told us about meeting Carl Long. He said that Long told him he was penniless, living rough and needed money for a flight to America so he could get work.’
‘Yes, what of it?’
‘That’s rubbish. Why did he go to Crowther for help? Why was he sleeping rough, as he claimed?’
‘I’m still not with you,’ Eve told me. ‘Neither am I,’ Charlie agreed. Trudi simply looked baffled.
‘According to the biographical notes Lew Pattison gave us, Carl Long came from a very wealthy and privileged background. Not only had his grandmother left him a very large bequest in her will, but his father had a highly paid job in the City, and his mother was an American heiress. As for sleeping rough, the family owned several houses both here and in the States.’
‘Perhaps they disapproved of his lifestyle and disowned him.’
‘If that’s the case, why did his parents spend a small fortune on private detectives they employed to search for him? By then it was a year or so too late, but it doesn’t sound to me as if they’d washed their hands of him.’
‘Why would Carl Long tell Mr Crowther a load of lies?’ Charlie asked.
‘My guess is that he was the decoy needed to get Crowther to the Tyne Bridge. We all know pretty much what happened after that. The plot failed because Long overdid it. They were very similar in appearance, and in the darkness, anyone seeing that jacket would have been fooled into thinking they were looking at Crowther.’
I’d opted for the scenic route, and to let Trudi see the dale at its best, I drove at a leisurely pace through Rowandale Forest and over the high moor beyond. As we began our descent towards Laithbrigg, I saw flashing lights in the distance ahead of us. After rounding a couple of hairpin bends, I had to brake. A police car was parked across the narrow road, blocking access to the lower slopes. The driver walked back to us.
‘Sorry, sir, you can’t go any further. You’ll have to divert.’ He gestured towards a narrow lane to our right.
‘What’s the problem?’
‘A car’s gone over the edge and down into the beck. That’s all I know. That road takes you through Gillside and you can rejoin this one on the outskirts of Laithbrigg.’
‘It’s OK, we live in Laithbrigg, that’s not a problem. Let’s hope nobody’s seriously hurt.’
‘I wouldn’t like to say, sir.’ He didn’t sound too hopeful. ‘It’s quite a drop – and it ended up on its roof.’
The final leg of our journey was completed in thoughtful silence, broken only by my comment that the road over Rowandale High Moor was a treacherous one, especially in winter, but I was surprised such an accident had happened on a clear bright summer afternoon.
We’d not been long in the house, and Eve had just shown Trudi round, when I suggested we treat the youngsters to a meal out that evening.
‘You’re just trying to get out of doing the cooking.’
‘Don’t judge everyone by your standards! I just thought Trudi might feel a bit lonely and upset by what’s happened, and by being left with virtual strangers. She can’t have expected her mother to desert her when they came here this morning.’
‘Sheila hasn’t deserted her.’
‘No, but it might seem that way to Trudi. If we got to the Admiral Nelson there will be lots of people about and that in itself will be a distraction.’
Eve smiled. ‘That’s a really kind thought, Adam. You can be nice when you put your mind to it. It may not happen often, but it’s good when it does.’
Sometimes, when you’re talking to Eve, it’s like being near a scorpion. You’ve got to beware of the sting in the tail.
A few minutes before we were due to set off for the Admiral Nelson, the phone rang. Eve answered it, her greeting of, ‘Hi, sis,’ informing me that it was Charlie’s mother calling from America. She had rung a couple of times already to check on Charlie’s condition. ‘Yes, he’s fine,’ Eve reassured her. ‘Hang on, I’ll get him, if I can drag him away from the TV and his other distraction. No, I’ll let him tell you.’
As Charlie was assuring his mother that he was fully recovered and being well looked after, Eve told me, ‘Apparently they’re off to some pop concert soon. Harriet didn’t get chance to tell me what it was, but apparently the twins are really excited and want to tell Charlie all about it. Tony wangled the tickets somehow.’
I heard Charlie’s voice change, as he greeted one of his sisters. ‘Hi, Sammy, how’s the Big Apple. ‘Really? Queen, did you say? Where are they playing? Madison Square Gardens. Well, lucky you! No, Sammy, I’m not a bit jealous. Hang on a second, you’ll find out why.’ He shouted through to the lounge and Trudi appeared. ‘Sammy, I’ve someone here who wants to say hello.’ He handed the receiver t
o Trudi. ‘Here, Trudi, please say hello to my sister Sammy, will you?’
Trudi laughed as she did as he asked. ‘Hi, Sammy, my name’s Trudi, Trudi Bell. I think Charlie is really nice, and I think you’re very lucky to have a brother like him. Hope you’re enjoying your holiday in the States. I heard Charlie say you’re going to Madison Square Gardens, is that right? To see Queen, yes? I played there a few months ago as a support act. It’s awesome. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. If you get chance to meet the boys, say hello to Brian May for me. He’s a really nice guy. Bye, now, I’ll put Charlie back on.’
It seemed that Sammy was having difficulty believing what she’d heard, because she demanded to speak to Eve or me. Charlie handed me the receiver with a grin of pure evil. ‘She wants someone to tell her who that really was.’
‘Hi, Sammy.’ Charlie hovered close to the phone, with Trudi alongside him. Both of them were afflicted with a severe attack of giggles. ‘Yes, Sammy, that was Trudi Bell. Yes, the Trudi Bell, the famous pop singer. No, we’re not winding you up. She’s staying with us for a few days. It’s too long a story, but I’m sure Charlie will tell you everything when you get back. Say hi to Becky for me.’ I passed my regards to her parents and hung up.
‘That’ll teach her to try and rub my nose in it,’ Charlie said. He turned to Trudi and gave her a warm smile. ‘Thanks for doing that. Older sisters can be a real pain sometimes. When they’re not being a pain, it’s because they’re asleep.’
Although it might have caused questions had we taken a couple of youngsters into a pub in a town or city centre, out in the wilds of the Yorkshire Dales much of the social activity centred around places such as the Admiral Nelson. We had been there a while without so much as a raised eyebrow until one of the regulars recognised Trudi. That did our standing in the community no harm, and any chance that the young singer would feel out of place or neglected vanished in the warmth of the greeting she received from many of the drinkers.
My reasons for suggesting the Nelson were not only because of the excellence of the beer, but also because the landlady was a superb chef. I was watching Trudi handling her new admirers, admiring her skill and tact, when a voice close by said, ‘Did’st tha see it?’
I turned, to find Ezekiel Calvert standing alongside me. I wasn’t surprised to see him, or to find that his glass was empty. ‘See what, Zeke?’ As I asked, I automatically reached out and took his glass, handing it to the barmaid with a nod.
As she was refilling it and attending to the rest of my order, Calvert said, ‘T’ accident on t’ High Moor, o’ course. Or supposed accident.’ He sniffed.
‘No, it had already happened when we got there. What do you mean by “supposed accident”, Zeke? Did you see what happened?’
‘Aye, I saw some of it. I were up on t’ moor. We’ve a couple of hen harriers after t’ young grouse.’
As head keeper for the Rowandale estate, and with the grouse shooting season little more than a month away, much of Calvert’s time would be spent up on the moors. ‘Some of it? What does that mean?’
I was treated to a withering glance. I wondered if Eve had been giving Zeke lessons in them. ‘It means I didn’t see it end. I saw what were going on before, though – and I heard t’ rest.’
‘Would you care to explain?’ It was easier to ask than trying to solve Zeke’s puzzles.
‘I heard t’ noise of engines first.’ Calvert made it sound more like ‘injuns’. ‘It were plain somebody were going too quick on that road. I looked over t’ valley and then I saw them.’
‘Them?’
‘Aye, two cars. First off I thought they were racing each other, but then I saw t’ one behind shoving t’ other wi’ them cow-catcher things.’
‘You saw two cars, and one of them was fitted with bull bars?’
‘That’s right, only it weren’t a car. It were one of them pick-me-ups.’
I bit my lip at Zeke’s description of a pick-up truck. ‘What make was it?’ I couldn’t for the moment think of too many vehicles in the UK that would have been fitted with bull bars, but perhaps they had been added as extras.
‘No idea, it were too far away, and going too fast.’
‘What happened next?’
‘I saw it ram t’ other car. Not once, but three times. Then they went round a bend out of sight. Tha knows, where t’ moor top is.’
I pictured the area. A large shoulder of land obscured the road from where Zeke must have been standing. ‘Was that the last you saw of them?’
‘Aye, but I heard them. There were another loud bang, then nowt but t’ sound of t’ engines, then a hell of a crash. I reckon that were t’ car going off t’ edge. Then, nowt. A few minutes after, I heard one of ’em drive off.’
‘And you reckon the pick-up driver was deliberately forcing the car off the road?’
‘Aye, that’s what I telled Johnny Pickersgill.’
At that moment, the landlord interrupted to inform us that our meal was ready. We collected Charlie and Trudi, who were attempting, without much success, to play darts, and headed for the dining room. Word of our celebrity guest must have gone round the bar like wildfire, because not only did the young waitress request Trudi’s autograph, but when we emerged back into the bar, I noticed that almost all the locals seemed to be staring at us. Trudi seemed to take it all in her stride, a fact that Eve commented on as we walked back up the hill to Eden House.
‘It can get a bit tiresome,’ Trudi admitted, ‘not like in there, but if I’m out shopping with Mum and people come up to us in the street. It used to worry me at first, but now I’m used to it.’
‘I have to admit I never had that problem. People rarely recognized me in the street.’
Trudi looked at me. ‘Were you famous? Sorry, that sounds awful.’
I laughed. ‘I used to be a foreign correspondent, but when I appeared on TV it was usually from somewhere remote in Africa, so people didn’t connect that image with a man walking down the high street here.’
‘Was that why Mr Pattison asked you to find my father?’
‘No, it was because Adam and my Aunt Evie specialize in murders and mysteries,’ Charlie told her.
When we entered the house, he was in the middle of telling her about the events from eighteen months earlier, when Eve and I had met – and nearly been killed. Halfway through his account, Trudi interrupted.
‘Sorry, Charlie, but did you say you live in a castle?’
‘Er … yes.’ Charlie seemed hesitant to admit it.
‘You mean a real castle, with suits of armour and dungeons and things?’
Charlie nodded. ‘Yes, but Dad got someone in to seal off the dungeon where the skeletons were found.’
‘Skeletons? What skeletons?’
‘Enough, Charlie,’ Eve interrupted. ‘You can tell Trudi the rest in the morning. The poor girl won’t get a wink of sleep if you fill her mind with horrors just before bedtime.’
It was difficult to tell which of them was more disappointed by the ban, and I heard Trudi extracting a promise from Charlie that he would finish his story first thing next day.
Chapter Twelve
We returned to Allerscar the following afternoon, by which time Trudi had heard all about our adventures at Mulgrave Castle, and discovered Charlie’s aristocratic background. I guess a lot of people his age would have been anxious to impress by telling a pretty girl such as Trudi chapter and verse, but Charlie seemed more embarrassed about his heritage than proud. Watching Trudi’s awed expression, though, I could tell she was impressed. We were glad of the distraction hoping it would keep Trudi’s mind away from the events of the past twenty-four hours.
When we arrived at Lovely Cottage, there was no sign of life. We knocked on the front door, but to no avail. As we marched in single file up the path alongside the house, I could see no sign of either Crowther or Sheila. We tried the back door, which proved to be open, but when we called out, we got no response. I was beginning to get concerned, and so, ju
dging by her expression, was Eve.
‘Perhaps they’re down in the garden,’ Charlie suggested.
We walked slowly down the path beside the lawn, past the long, neat rows of young plants until we reached the greenhouses. There was no sign of life in them, and it was only after we rounded the hen huts and reached the windmill that we saw the couple in the distance. They were standing at the end of the orchard, close to the wall that marked the end of Crowther’s property. Their arms were around each other’s waists, and it was clear they were oblivious to everything but each other.
I glanced sideways, and saw Charlie and Trudi exchange knowing smiles. Eve coughed, loudly enough to attract the couple’s attention. They turned, and Crowther greeted us. ‘Hi there. We were just discussing my plans to expand the market garden and produce my own brand of flour.’
I’ll bet you were, I thought. Judging by the way they’d been looking at one another, the last things on their minds had been either flour or vegetables. Later, as we were seated around the kitchen table over a cup of tea, Sheila asked Trudi the question that signalled her decision.
‘How would you feel about living here? With your father and me,’ she added.
Trudi hesitated before answering. ‘I don’t know. But I think I’d like it, Mum, if that’s what you want.’
‘We do, Trudi, but it has to be the right thing for all of us.’ It was Crowther who said this, not Sheila, and up to that point I’d wondered how much Trudi’s fame had set her apart from other teenagers. Her reply, however, proved that despite her stardom and all that went with it, despite the adulation of countless fans, she was as normal as a teenager could be.
Trudi thought for a moment before adding, ‘I could only agree if I had a recording studio, or at least a music room of my own, together with my own personal accompanist.’ Into the silence that followed, she added, ‘When he can spare the time from planting potatoes or parsnips, or cropping cucumbers or carrots, that is.’