Hurrying downstairs, he poured a large whisky into a cut-glass tumbler, then going back upstairs he tapped softly on his mother’s bedroom door. Just as he had hoped, there was no reply: she must have gone to the bathroom, so quick as a flash he emptied a handful of her sleeping tablets into the whisky and stirred them in.
When she came back she found him waiting for her with a contrite look on his face. ‘I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier, Mother,’ he said as she padded towards the bed. She peered at him suspiciously as he handed her the glass. ‘Look, I’ve brought you a nightcap to make amends.’
She hesitated, but he thrust it towards her, saying, ‘Come on, or I shall think you haven’t forgiven me.’
After clambering into bed she took it from him and downed it in three swallows, shuddering slightly at the strong taste.
‘Thank you, son.’ She smiled sweetly at him. ‘I’ve always known you are a good boy really.’
Her grey hair was standing on end and she had done the buttons on her long cotton nightdress up all wrong. She looked like a witch but he kept his smile firmly in place as he tucked the covers about her.
‘Goodnight, Mother.’
‘Goodnight, my little boy. Sleep tight.’
He had to stop himself from grinning. You certainly will, he thought as he stepped out onto the landing. Now all he had to do was wait for the deadly mixture to take effect.
*
It was little more than an hour later when Briony was woken by the sound of crying. She had only just dropped off but she knew instinctively that Mabel was having one of her nightmares. Bless her, they happened very infrequently now but Briony suspected that she would never be completely free of them. It was hardly surprising, after what the little girl had gone through. She woke the sweating child gently, then after giving her a reassuring cuddle she told her, ‘I’ll just pop down to the kitchen and fetch you a drink of water. How about that, eh?’
Mabel sniffed tearfully as Briony, barefoot, made her silent way down into the kitchen, where she snapped the light on. It would have been hard to say who was the most startled as she almost collided with Sebastian, who was heading for the green baize door.
‘What on earth are you doing in here in the dark?’ she asked, then as she spotted the can of paraffin in his hand, she went on. ‘And what are you doing with that?’
‘Oh I er . . . thought I’d refill the heater in Mother’s room before I turned in.’
‘But you know I always do that before I go to bed and have done ever since we couldn’t get enough coal.’
His temper erupted. ‘Always interfering, aren’t you?’ he spat. ‘Just go back to bed and mind your own business, girl.’
‘No, I won’t!’ Every instinct she had was telling her that something was seriously wrong. Since when had Sebastian ever done any menial chores? And why was he suddenly waltzing about the house with a can of paraffin?
‘Give that to me,’ she said boldly, holding her hand out, but he slapped it away as he finally lost control.
‘You nosy little bitch,’ he ground out as he grasped the neck of her nightgown and pressed her back against the table.
‘Y-you’re going to do something bad, aren’t you?’ she whispered tremulously.
He laughed; a cold hard sound that echoed around the kitchen.
‘I certainly am. I’m going to burn this bloody house down with all of you in it, and then I’m going to play the part of a grieving son and uncle, and claim all the lovely insurance money.’ He was enjoying seeing her frightened now and couldn’t seem to stop himself from going on as she tried to free herself.
‘But that’s murder,’ she choked.
He nodded. ‘And it won’t be my first if you’d care to look in some of the coffins that are stacked at the back of the barn,’ he giggled. ‘And this . . .’ He held his injured hand up before telling her, ‘I did this – and do you know why? Because I didn’t want to be a dead hero. Though I’ll tell you now it takes some guts to shoot yourself! But it will all be worth it soon. I’m finally going to get what’s rightfully mine and get rid of you lot all in one go.’
‘You’re mad,’ she croaked as she overturned one of the kitchen chairs in an attempt to get away from him. It crashed onto the stone flags but he seemed oblivious as he looked around for something to quieten her with. And then he saw just the thing. Lying at the end of the table was the heavy marble rolling pin that Briony had used earlier.
Dragging her with him, he lifted it as she pleaded, ‘Please don’t do this. Think of the children upstairs.’
She was fighting him as best she could, but it was soon clear to her that her strength was no match for his and she began to cry.
He lifted the weapon then, and just before he brought it crashing down on the back of her head she thought she saw madness shining in his eyes . . . and then there was nothing but blackness.
Briony crumpled to the floor like a rag doll and after checking that she was unconscious Sebastian snatched up the paraffin can again and headed upstairs. His mother was out for the count, just as he had known she would be, and he smiled with satisfaction before beginning to sprinkle the paraffin about. He splashed some up the curtains and onto the rugs and then the bedding, then with an evil grin he moved to the small heater and tipped it over. The fire must look like an accident. It was common knowledge now that his mother was barmy, and by the time anyone discovered the fire he would be long gone and they would think that she had knocked the heater over accidentally. The flames instantly began to lick at the carpet then the curtains, and soon the bedclothes were alight too. But his mother slept on, impervious to the danger she was in. He watched unmoved as the flames snatched greedily at her eiderdown and once he was quite sure that the fire had a hold he picked up the paraffin can and ran from the room. There was no time to lose now.
He had just started down the stairs when the sole of his shoe came into contact with something slippery, and just before he fell he glanced down to see one of the long silky gloves that Marion Frasier had taken to wearing lying on the carpet. His arms flailed wildly and the can flew out of his grasp as he tried to right himself . . . but then his legs went from beneath him and he was tumbling down the stairs head over heels to roll and land in a broken heap by the hall-stand.
Chapter Forty-Two
Howel kept pace with Mabel as the child ran across the frozen hillocky grass. She was barefoot but so distraught that she didn’t even seem to notice the pain.
‘We must go quicker,’ she panted as her nightgown billowed out behind her like a sail. Behind them, Mr Dower and James were struggling to keep pace with them but failing miserably.
Already a pale orange glow shone in the sky beyond the orchard in front of them and Howel’s heart sank into his boots. What if we’re too late? he asked himself, but desperation drove him on and at last they were in the yard. Some of the upstairs windows had already imploded with the heat and smoke was billowing out of them. Broken glass was shining like diamonds amongst the cobblestones, and it scrunched beneath his boots. For now all Howel could think about was getting into the kitchen where Mabel had told him Briony was lying unconscious.
‘You wait here now,’ he ordered the frightened child, and when she went to disobey him he caught her arm and shook her roughly. ‘I mean it,’ he shouted, but thankfully his father and James caught up with him then and he pushed her towards them.
‘I’m coming with you,’ James said through gritted teeth in a voice that told Howel he meant every word and as Mr Dower hugged Mabel against him, the two men rushed towards the kitchen door.
‘You get Briony, I’m going up for Alfie and Sarah.’ The electricity no longer worked and James fumbled through the darkness towards the stairs leading to the servants’ quarters. Smoke was billowing and he knew that he could not afford to waste a single minute. Snatching a handkerchief from his pocket, he put it across his nose and mouth and then he began to shout, ‘Sarah . . . Alfie, where are you?’ He was flinging doors op
en as he went and at last he saw Sarah sitting up in bed, her eyes terrified as she hugged the blankets to her.
‘Wh-what’s happening? An’ what’s that funny smell?’ she asked as her father felt his way towards her.
‘Don’t worry about that for now,’ he soothed. ‘Just do as I tell you, there’s a good girl.’ He snatched up the calliper that was lying on the floor at the side of her bed before hoisting her up with his other arm. The smoke was getting thicker now and he was beginning to feel light-headed, but he knew that if he lost focus, they would all be burned to death. ‘Which is Alfie’s room?’ he shouted once they were out on the landing again.
‘That one there.’ She pointed and he kicked at the door with his foot. It sprang back to bounce off the wall behind it, but not before he had seen Alfie cowering in a corner.
‘Come on, son,’ he said, trying to keep his voice calm. ‘Grab hold of the back of my shirt and whatever happens – don’t let go.’
Alfie was so frightened that for a moment it appeared that he was not going to obey, but then James roared, ‘ALFIE, DO AS YOU’RE TOLD – NOW!’
He had already lost his wife and nearly his own life and sanity in the hell of the camp, but he was determined that he was not going to lose his children too. If he did, he would have nothing left to live for. It was only the thought of coming home to them that had kept him alive during those nightmare years.
Alfie sprang forward and soon they were at the top of the stairs. Sarah buried her head in her father’s shoulder, crying softly, her arms tight about his neck and James told her, ‘Come on, pet, we’re almost there now.’
At last they were at the foot of the stairs and as James started across the kitchen with his precious bundles the green baize door suddenly blew inwards and flames leaped hungrily into the room, consuming everything in their path.
‘Just a few more steps, that’s it,’ James panted encouragingly. His strength was failing now but he pushed himself on – and suddenly they were in the yard and after the heat inside, the cold air hit them like a fist.
Howel was leaning over Briony, who was lying on the cobblestones, and James heaved a sigh of relief before pitching forward, overcome by the smoke.
‘I’ve got to go back in for the old lady,’ Howel gasped when he was sure that Briony was breathing, but his father grasped his arm.
‘It’s too late, lad.’ Caden Dower nodded towards the kitchen door. Flames were clearly visible in there now. ‘You’d not even make it to the hallway. All we can do is wait for the fire brigade now. They will have been alerted when we set off from the farm, so they shouldn’t be too much longer now.’ And so the little group stood shivering with shock and cold and watched helplessly as the beautiful old house burned in front of them.
‘So,’ the village bobby said to Briony sometime later as she sat wrapped in a blanket in Mrs Dower’s kitchen. ‘Do you know where Mr Fraiser is now, miss?’
She winced as she tried to shake her head. She had a lump the size of an egg on the back of it, but Dr Restarick had assured them that she was fine, although she would probably have a throbbing headache for some days to come and would need to rest.
‘I should imagine he was going to get away and make out that he knew nothing about it.’ Briony had told the policeman everything, including what Sebastian had said about there being bodies in the locked barn. The police from Penzance were already back at The Heights, looking to see if there was any truth in it. The barn remained intact; the flames had not had a chance to reach it.
‘D-did they manage to get my grandmother out?’ she asked now.
The constable cleared his throat and said tactfully, ‘The fire brigade are still there trying to bring the blaze under control. Rest assured they’ll do all they can.’
Briony dropped her head as tears splashed down her cheeks. She and her grandmother had never got along – Marion Frasier had not allowed it – but even so she didn’t deserve what her son had done to her. No one deserved to die like that. But then, Briony thought, she herself had a lot to be thankful for. Apart from smoke inhalation, her father was all right and so were Alfie and Sarah, thanks to the heroism and quick thinking of young Mabel.
The little girl had explained that after waiting for Briony to return with a glass of water following her nightmare, she had crept downstairs to see what was keeping her and had heard and seen what Sebastian had done to her. Realising that she was no match for him, she had then raced all the way to Kynance Farm to raise the alarm, so in everyone’s eyes she was the heroine of the hour.
‘You’ve been a very brave girl indeed,’ the policeman told her kindly. ‘Were it not for you, you might have all been trapped in the fire.’
Mabel blushed self-consciously. She thought of Briony and the others as her family now and was just grateful that she had been able to get help to them in time.
Mrs Dower had gently bathed her feet, which were almost cut to ribbons, and they were throbbing nicely now, although she found it strange that she hadn’t felt the pain until the crisis was over.
Satisfied that he had all the information that he needed for now, PC Tredwen snapped his notebook shut and rose.
‘Well, I think I ought to leave you good folk to get some sleep now,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing more we can do at this hour, but I’ll be over in the morning when we know a little more. Are you sure you can cope with all these extra people, Mrs Dower?’
‘We’ll cope just fine, Daveth,’ she assured him. ‘Where else would they go? They’re like family now.’ Annik had known Daveth Tredwen all his life, for he had been a school pal of Howel’s.
And so PC Tredwen headed back to the house on his motorcycle while Mrs Dower pottered about making cups of cocoa, fussing over them all and giving her husband and grandson a proud and loving hug.
*
Next morning at about nine thirty, the constable returned, and after stepping into the kitchen where all the adults were assembled he removed his helmet and told them solemnly, ‘I’m afraid the fire brigade were unable to rescue Mrs Frasier. Mr Page removed her body this morning,’ he paused then before going on, ‘along with the body of her son, Mr Sebastian Frasier. They’ve been taken down to the funeral parlour.’
‘What?’ Briony could hardly believe her ears. ‘But what was Sebastian still doing in the house? Why didn’t he leave?’
‘It appears that he somehow tripped and fell down the stairs whilst trying to get out,’ PC Tredwen informed her. ‘His neck was broken.’
Briony was stunned. It seemed that Sebastian’s wicked plan to claim the insurance money and kill them all had led to his own death.
‘And the house?’ she whispered.
He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid it will have to be demolished, Miss Valentine. The fire brigade did all they could, but the damage is extensive and the building is unsafe.’
‘So what will happen to us all now then?’ Mrs Dower asked fearfully. She and her family were only tenants, after all, and it now looked as if they might lose their home too.
‘Mrs Frasier’s solicitor has been informed of what has happened and he assures me that he will be in touch within the next few days.’ Daveth Tredwen paused then before adding, ‘My colleagues also discovered two more bodies stored in coffins in the back of the barn. One was the skeleton of a young woman, the other was that of a man.’
Briony suddenly remembered the night she had heard Sebastian arguing with the fellow who had come to collect money from him from London. She had thought it strange after hearing Sebastian offer him a bed for the night to then see Sebastian driving the man’s van away. Could he have killed him and dragged him into the barn before hiding his body away? It seemed highly likely. It would also explain the terrible smell that had issued for a time from behind the locked doors. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of it.
‘I don’t mind betting the woman will be identified as young Jenna Pascoe, the lass from the village Sebastian got pregnant,’ Mr Dower said darkly. �
�Poor girl, her parents are going to be devastated. They always thought it wasn’t right, the way she just disappeared. I thank God our granddaughter escaped his clutches. But what else did you find in there? Sebastian always kept that place under lock and key and no one were ever allowed in there.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ the constable said wryly. ‘It seems he had a right little set-up going on. At this point we can only assume that he had people looting abandoned properties in London during the bombing, and also getting hold of black-market goods. He would sell the stuff on, making a nice tidy profit. But of course we will be investigating further.’
‘That would account for all the vans coming and going in the early hours of the morning,’ Mrs Dower said, as everything began to fall into place. ‘And to think that something like that was going on right under our noses – and we didn’t have a clue! It was his mother’s fault. She spoiled that boy from the moment he was born, and she turned him into the monster he became. Just think – he murdered his own mother, after years of extorting money out of her. He was a rotten apple, all right.’
After the constable had gone, the adults all sat trying to digest what had happened.
Mr Dower said sorrowfully, ‘It looks like we might have to retire sooner than we thought, Annik. Howel is going off, aren’t you, my lad, so we’ll have to find somewhere to rent for us and young Talwyn.’
‘I shall have to look for somewhere for us too,’ James put in. He and his family couldn’t impose on the Dowers’ hospitality for too much longer anyway. They had been kindness itself but they were packed into the farmhouse like sardines. Even so, he had a lot to be thankful for. His family had survived the fire, although it might have been a different story altogether had it not been for young Mabel.
Soldier's Daughter, The Page 37