He frowned. ‘When they carried him off, I saw his hand sticking out from under the sheet and I knew it was not the viscount’s son. He has these big hands with reddish hair on them. These were smaller hands, white and almost feminine. I had no idea who it was, but I heard soon enough. That chap who lives in the cottage with Mr Woolsbury came to the inn telling us all about it. About the quarrel the night before and all.’
‘Peartree told everybody present in The Catch that Duncan had quarrelled with the victim the night before?’
‘Oh, yes. He said it was so unfortunate because he would also have to tell the police and they might jump to conclusions. Somebody even made a joke saying they never jumped onto anything in their lives, unless it was a fresh ham sandwich.’ Page chuckled. ‘Quite apt, you know.’ He was obviously enjoying his role as star witness, handing them all the information the police had not bothered to collect.
Alkmene sat back. So Peartree had not just informed the police of the quarrel but he had been ready to spill the news all over town. Why be in such a rush?
Page said, ‘Is that coffee any good?’
Realizing she had barely drunk any, Alkmene quickly took a few draughts. ‘Delicious. Thank you. I was quite cold, but I feel better now.’
Page smiled, pleased with the result of his efforts. ‘You came here for?’
‘Oh, information on the bride who hid her gold somewhere near the Black Castle.’
Page held his head back and laughed. ‘Aren’t they all after the same thing? What do you expect me to have here? A treasure map?’
‘If you had, I doubt you’d show it to me.’
Page stopped laughing, his eyes gleaming with a sudden malicious glint. ‘Right you are,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘They’d get nothing from me. I know they’re all after it, trying to trick me out of my books. Somebody has been in here going through my paperwork.’
‘What?’ Jake asked.
Page focused on him. ‘Somebody came in here, when I wasn’t here, and went through my paperwork. No doubt looking for clues about the gold.’
Jake held his gaze. ‘Did you report this break-in to the police?’
‘It wasn’t a break-in. There was no damage anywhere. Must have done it with a spare key. Several people had a key to this building when it was still used as the town hall. They were supposed to have turned their keys in when the mayor left but…’
Page made an eloquent hand gesture. ‘I could not prove anything, but I know for sure someone was in here, tampering with my material.’
Jake had pulled out a scruffy notepad and pencil. ‘Who had keys?’
‘The old mayor, but he left for London. The other clerk, but he left for Wales where his son has a farm. The new mayor has never had a key.’
Jake let his pencil hover over the paper. ‘So what are you saying? People had keys but none was able to come in here?’
Alkmene frowned. ‘Not so fast, Jake. Duncan got his permission to dig on the site from the old mayor, right? Could this old mayor have taken his spare key with him to London? Could he have given it to someone else? Someone who had approached him about the dig. Peartree? Or Goodman?’
‘Possibly,’ Page said with an appreciative smile at Alkmene. ‘The old mayor always liked to be important. If somebody told him a tale about needing the key, he might have given it to him.’
‘Right.’ Alkmene frowned. Looking at Jake, she said, ‘Peartree is manipulative and sly. Goodman we do not know about of course, but… If he came to the old mayor, using Trevor Price’s name to add weight to his request…’
Jake nodded, making some notes. ‘So it is possible that Goodman or Peartree had a key that gives access to this building and one of them has been in here to find information about the gold treasure.’
‘Old Paul’s Missus had a key for cleaning,’ Page said. ‘But she was supposed to have turned it in to Aldridge when the mayor left. They were all supposed to have turned their keys in at the police station. Nobody knows if they ever did.’
‘Have you asked Aldridge about it? He should know if all keys are safely at the station. Just a simple count, and we’d know if any are missing.’
Page scoffed. ‘Of course I didn’t ask Aldridge. He wouldn’t tell me a thing anyway. He’d say I was insane to claim anybody had been in here. That it was such a mess I couldn’t be sure anything had been touched. But I have a system. I know when things have been moved around.’
Page rose agilely and picked a book off a shelf. ‘This is a volume on local history, which has something on the castle. You’re welcome to borrow it as long as you like.’
Alkmene was surprised that he was so forthcoming to a stranger while he resented the locals so much.
Jake went over to the bookcase and pointed at Golden Lore. ‘Can we borrow that too?’
Page’s expression set. He seemed to force a smile. ‘No, unfortunately not. It’s fragile. I don’t want it to be damaged. There is nothing in it on the Black Castle Gold anyway. Mythical treasures is more like…Atlantis or something, you know.’
Jake glanced at Alkmene. She understood what he meant. Page knew exactly what he wanted to share with them and what he was holding just out of their reach. It could be part of his character as meticulous clerk, guarding the information that he considered the privilege of an elect few.
After all, his wish that their investigation would be better than the police’s had seemed genuine enough. That should motivate him to help them, right?
Unless of course he himself had been involved in the killing somehow…
Chapter Fourteen
After half an hour of scrupulous study of the material that Page handed them, Alkmene and Jake excused themselves and left with the book that Page had allowed them to borrow.
‘I bet all the good stuff is in Golden Lore,’ Jake said gloomily as soon as they were outside. ‘Even if he doesn’t want us to take the book with us, he could at least have let me look through it on the spot.’
Alkmene’s mind was on something else. ‘We should have asked him more about Kramer. Why did he say he wasn’t done here yet?’
She nodded at the post office on the other side of the road. ‘There is a public phone there. I’d better call Lady Eleanor and see if she can shed light on Kramer’s frequent trips out here. You talk to the shopkeeper while I’m at it, to ensure she is not listening in.’
Jake grimaced at this task, but dutifully followed her inside.
The butler at the viscount’s residence told her that Lady Eleanor was out tending to her roses and it would take some time to fetch her. Alkmene said she’d hold and spied through the glass pane to see how Jake was getting along at the desk. An elderly lady had just presented a parcel in brown paper with a bit of string tied round it and Alkmene imagined it would be home-made baby clothes for the granddaughter of a dear friend or some girl she had been nanny to, ages ago, who now had her own babies.
‘Yes, Alkmene?’ a crisp voice resounded in her ear. ‘I was just coming in for some tea. How are you? Have you seen Duncan?’
Are you engaged yet? Alkmene added inwardly. Now that she was on the phone with Duncan’s mother, her irritation about the matchmaking scheme returned full force. ‘Actually I’ve seen very little of him so far. He seems to be busy all the time. But you know more about that than I do.’
Lady Eleanor’s surprise was audible. ‘Me? Where on earth did you get that idea? Duncan can be so tight-lipped about everything. I have no idea what he is doing and how he is getting along.’
Alkmene took a deep breath. ‘Duncan might not have told you anything himself, but what about Kramer’s activities?’
She used the same word Jake had used as it covered a lot of things.
Lady Eleanor maintained a puzzled pause, before asking, ‘Kramer?’
‘Yes, I heard at the inn he has a regular room here, staying weekends. I don’t assume he has to do that for his health.’
Deciding
she did have a right to be a little upset about the trap the viscount and his wife had sent her into, Alkmene continued, ‘The viscount made it quite clear to me that you are worried about Duncan’s obsession with his work, over…more social pursuits. However, having come here, I must conclude that your fears are of a different nature altogether.’
Lady Eleanor laughed. ‘Well, I do admit I would have felt much better if Duncan had decided to do his digging away from England. I do realize there are women there as well, but I presume that a foreign language would be a barrier, not to mention all those gruesome habits such people seem to have. Child sacrifice and all.’
Lady Eleanor’s knowledge of foreign cultures chiefly came from books in her husband’s library, which she leafed through every now and then when she was bored and wanted the thrill of seeing an explorer in a cannibal’s cooking pot. Alkmene doubted that those accounts were reflective of the current situation, but she didn’t even attempt to make that point to the lady speaking. Lady Eleanor didn’t like to be countered. And she never ever changed her mind.
‘Such a quiet English village, however,’ Lady Eleanor continued, ‘might have a certain…rustic appeal on Duncan’s restless mind that could prove to be quite dangerous. Kramer told me everything was fine, but I doubt where his loyalties lie. I’m beginning to suspect that while I’m paying him for information, Duncan is paying him to tell me absolutely nothing.’
So Duncan might have known Kramer was watching the cottage at his mother’s request.
But when Jake had mentioned the disturbed earth and broken twigs, Duncan had acted like he had no idea what was going on…
Why?
‘Have you taken Kramer to task for that?’ Alkmene asked, curious how the driver had responded.
‘No, of course not. Kramer is my husband’s department. I only take domestic staff to task. And the occasional gardener who wreaks havoc on my roses. But not a chauffeur.’
‘But you do instruct him to spy on Duncan.’
‘Something I’ve regretted since.’ Lady Eleanor gave a tragic sigh. ‘Kramer has taken many liberties, staying away all weekend and then bringing me nothing worthwhile. At first I was relieved thinking my suspicions of Duncan’s…attachment to the countryside were unfounded. After all, one should really not pay attention to poison pen letters.’
Alkmene shocked upright. ‘You got a poison pen letter?’
‘Yes. It wasn’t quite as crude as one would believe based on information from books.’ Lady Eleanor sounded as if she had been pleasantly surprised by the discovery. ‘It didn’t have any vulgar words or threats, and it didn’t ask for money either. It merely informed me in the politest terms that my son was seeing an unsuitable woman and I would do better removing him from Cornwall as soon as possible. As if I can simply pick him up and put him at another tea table. The time I could carry him is way in the past.’
‘The letter was not signed with a name?’
‘They never are, are they? But as I said, it was written quite nicely and seemed to be meant as an earnest warning. At the last dinner party we had in town, I looked around the table asking myself which of my well-meaning friends might have used this rather unusual means to warn me of Duncan’s situation. It would have been so painful to tell me to my face. My adoration for Duncan is well known. I defend him too much. It makes people leery of speaking the truth to me, I suppose.’
Alkmene grinned to herself. People were generally so much in awe of Lady Eleanor’s overbearing ways they didn’t dare tell her anything. ‘You couldn’t deduce anything from the stamp on the envelope that letter came in or from the handwriting?’
‘Very little. I did see that the paper had come off a stack and that the writer had used the stack before to write on. The previous letter he wrote had left imprinted letters on the sheet of paper used to write to me. It said something about…location being most important and caution being crucial during the quest. All very mysterious if you ask me.’
Alkmene’s eyes went wide. The same person who had written to Duncan’s mother to inform her of an unsuitable alliance urging her to remove her son from the danger had written to somebody else about a location and a quest. Had the letter to Duncan’s mother been meant to get rid of him and clear the way for other treasure seekers?
She pressed, ‘And you really have no idea who sent it?’
‘No. I’m beginning to think Kramer did it to get me to send him out all the time. He is acting so smugly upon his return, walking about with this secretive smile. Tell me, do you think Duncan will be done soon with this excavation thing? I would much rather see him leave that village.’
‘I have no idea. I barely spoke to him.’
Lady Eleanor said, ‘Duncan is of course burying himself in work again. You should drag him away now and then, put some other thoughts in his head than old bones.’
‘Kramer – did he have your permission to stay away whole weekends?’
‘Yes, well, I did say he should use every opportunity to learn things.’ Lady Eleanor sighed. ‘I guess I shouldn’t have paid him so much for it. He understood I was eager and abused the opportunity.’
‘And what would you say as to his nature? Is he a clever man? Educated?’
‘Dear Alkmene, how would I know? He is only a chauffeur. My husband hired him and looked through his credentials then; I assume they were excellent for we only hire the very best of staff.’
‘You must have gotten some idea of him while you engaged him to do the…inquiring for you. You’re always so perceptive about people.’
‘Oh, you do flatter me.’ Lady Eleanor gave a soft guttural laugh. ‘But yes, I suppose…Kramer is clever enough. He listens and he remembers things.’
Could Kramer have found out something about the treasure’s possible location? Had he killed Goodman to appropriate the riches for himself?
Lady Eleanor said, ‘Last week Kramer was talking with the butler… I really dislike a chauffeur coming into the house when I have not asked him to, but there they were in the hallway talking and I was coming down the stairs. They had not seen me yet, for I was still above the bend. I recognized the voices though. Butler was saying to Kramer, “You are a lucky man then. You will soon be able to leave all of this behind here.” Kramer laughed and said, “I guess they are right when they said there is a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow.” I remember thinking it was odd he knew that saying, him being German and all, but then Kramer is quite fluent in our language.’
Pot of gold? Leaving it all behind? Alkmene frowned. ‘I would appreciate it if you try to remember anything more you know about Kramer. Perhaps you can even ask your husband about his credentials. Where he worked earlier and all. I will call again tomorrow. Thank you for this information. Bye-bye.’
And before Lady Eleanor could stop her, she disconnected. This call had cost quite enough. And had delivered, in a big way. Kramer had been engaged to spy on Duncan for his mother, to prevent a disastrous alliance she had learned about in an anonymous letter. But Kramer had abused the opportunity – as Lady Eleanor had so eloquently put it – to do some spying for himself. He had to know the location of the treasure. Had he been willing to kill for it?
At the counter the sweet little old lady who had brought in the parcel just wrapped up her chat with the lady behind the counter and walked to the door. Jake opened it for her to let her out and Alkmene went to the counter to ask for some chocolate. ‘I do wonder,’ she said, ‘where people like that get the energy to knit and crochet all of the time, for other people. They have so many friends and relations they are always making something for. Baby clothes and birthday sweaters and all.’
The woman hmm-ed, while reaching up for the chocolate bars.
‘I do admire somebody who is good with her hands,’ Alkmene chatted on cheerfully. ‘I’m afraid I just don’t have any talent for it. I tore my dress the other day and I have to look for a dressmaker to get it fixed up for me. I do not suppose you h
ave one here in town, do you?’
She hoped the woman would refer her to Old Paul’s daughter Abby. Going to see her about a sewing job would be the perfect excuse to have a chat about Duncan and the dig.
The shopkeeper said, ‘Oh, if you’re staying at the inn, you can ask Sarah to do it for you. Nice girl and good with her hands too. Reckons she can make a living in London with some…atelier thing, a studio for sewing as it were.’
‘Oh, she told me she wanted to be a typist.’ Alkmene smiled. ‘Girls can be fickle changing their minds from day to day.’
‘Oh, I reckoned she was serious enough about it. The city is more of an attraction for her than just serving at the inn here or milking cows.’ The woman crossed her arms over her chest. ‘But if her father ever found out about her wanting to leave, he’d break all of her bones. Would never put up with any such thing.’
‘I can understand. I heard a young woman from another family left this village to live in Plymouth and it ended badly for her.’ Alkmene made sure to let her remark end on a questioning note, inviting the shopkeeper to give more information if she wanted to. If she wasn’t to meet up with Abby herself, she had to get information about her in some other way.
The woman nodded. ‘Old Paul’s daughter, you mean. Yes, Abby left the village to marry a sailor. I think he was Swedish or something. He told her fancy tales about starting his own business catering to the tourists. They’d have a nice house and plenty of money. But she came back, broke – a widow with two little children. Who will have her now?’
‘She has this small job at the inn, right?’ Alkmene said. ‘Perhaps she thinks some traveller will notice her and offer her a better life away from here?’
The woman shrugged. ‘Perhaps. She used to be a beauty and I dare say she has a kind heart still. But two small children are something to take on for any man.’
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