by Agatha Frost
A gasp ricocheted through the small crowd, but Charlotte’s increased sobs drowned it out. Rory wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her in.
“I saw her drive away this morning!” one of the new men explained. “She was screeching outside. It woke us up!”
“Me too!” the woman in the other couple said with a nod. “Drove off like a madwoman.”
“We saw her too,” Dot volunteered. “Didn’t we girls? Julia even went down and spoke to her.”
Guilt consumed Julia. She looked down at the ground, unable to look the young DI in the eyes. Why hadn’t she tried harder to stop Mary from driving off? She tried to think of what could have caused the woman to crash, but Charlotte’s cries were distracting her.
“I’m going to need to take statements from each of you,” he said, already pulling a notepad out of his pocket. “Since you can’t seem to stay out of things, why don’t we start with you, Miss South?”
Chapter Ten
Julia followed DI Fletcher back into the dining room. He pulled up a seat at the table Rory had been sitting at, but the paperwork he had been working on had already vanished.
“You know they’re faking that grief?” Julia asked as she sat uninvited across the table from DI Fletcher. “Neither of them showed that much emotion when their own father was shot down. Find the gun yet?”
“We’re doing our best to find the murder weapon,” he said as he flicked through his notepad to a fresh page. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
“Your best isn’t good enough.” Julia clung onto the edge of the table, leant through the dim light, and looked the DI dead in the eyes. “A woman has unnecessarily died.”
The DI arched a brow, a slight smirk pricking the corners of his lips. He pulled the lid off his pen, but he didn’t write anything down. Instead, he just continued to stare at Julia as though he was a mixture of amused and irritated by her behaviour. It reminded her of the way Barker had looked at her when they had first met, but she doubted the young DI in front of her contained any of the same humility when he clocked off at the end of the day. Her chest tightened just thinking of Barker; she wanted nothing more than to see his face at that moment.
“We have no reason to believe it was anything but a tragic accident,” he said, turning the pen upside down to tap furiously on the table surface. “Those roads are dangerous at the best of times without the added difficulty of driving through fog. Mary McLaughlin wouldn’t be the first woman to succumb to those roads.”
“Woman?”
“Turn of phrase, Miss South,” he replied through a strained smile. “I assure you I meant nothing by it, but the point still stands. Mary skidded off the road on a tricky turn and crashed through the barrier wall.”
“If you analyse the car, I’m sure you’ll find some tampering,” Julia said firmly as she sat up and turned to the thick fog outside. “Cut brakes, perhaps?”
“There wasn’t much left of the car,” he said as he tugged at his collar. “Or of Mary. On a road that quiet, there’s no telling how long the fire raged for.”
Julia closed her eyes and forced back the tears. Why hadn’t she insisted Mary stay behind? She tried to reassure herself that she couldn’t have known this would happen, but after everything she had heard so far today, a second murder wasn’t as surprising as she would have liked to have believed.
“Charlotte is involved,” Julia said. “I heard her talking to the ex-groundskeeper, Andrew McCracken, moments before we bumped into you. If fact, I’m sure Andrew is still there. I haven’t seen him leave yet, have you?”
Julia jumped up and hurried across the dining hall to the drawing room. She pushed confidently on the heavy double doors, but she didn’t need to take a step into the room to know the chair was empty. She rushed over, but the only evidence Andrew had even been there was the drained whisky tumbler and the almost empty decanter.
“I can’t see anybody, Miss South,” he said as he followed her into the room, wincing as he scratched at the side of his head with his pen. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me about this conversation?”
“Charlotte was asking Andrew to get rid of somebody, and she alluded to the fact he had already done it once. She mentioned Mary was now gone to leave her to take control of the castle.” Julia turned to the bookcase she had slipped through, and a light bulb sparked above her head. “The secret passage!”
The DI walked over to the armchair and picked up the decanter. He lifted off the lid and gave it a sniff, but Julia was already running across the room. She stared at the bookcase she was sure concealed the hidden door.
“Secret passage?” he called after her as he weaved in and out of the furniture to catch up. “Do you realise how ridiculous you sound right now?”
“It’s true,” Julia said, scrambling at the books for a secret lever or switch. “It’s right here. It leads out into the courtyard. He could be halfway back to the village by now.”
“Who?”
“Andrew!”
“What does Andrew McCracken have to do with Mary McLaughlin’s death?” he asked with an exasperated sigh. “Please, Miss South, try to stay on topic.”
“Aren’t you listening to me?” she cried, turning away from the bookcase and back at the DI. “Charlotte is pulling all of the strings. She shot her father and had Mary killed. She’s desperate to run this castle. Her very words were ‘whatever it takes’. She’s ruthless.”
“Do you have any evidence, aside from a conversation you claim to have overheard?”
“I did overhear it,” she snapped. “Sue was there. She’ll account for the secret passage too. Benjamin, the new groundskeeper, told me the castle was full of them. I suppose that’s how Charlotte managed to be in the opposite part of the castle when her father was discovered. She must have slipped away and waited until witnesses could see her walking onto the scene.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I’m making perfect sense!” she cried, her hands disappearing up into her curls. “Why aren’t you writing any of this down?”
He sighed and pinched between his brows as he took a seat on the red Chesterfield Julia and Sue had been hiding behind not that long ago.
“Just tell me what happened when Mary drove away from this castle?” he asked, opening his notepad again. “And please stick to the facts.”
Julia reluctantly sat next to him. She ran through the story of being awakened by the shrieking and seeing Rory pushing her out of the castle. She told him all about their conversation, and how Mary had insisted on going to see her lawyer. When she was finished, she looked down at the polished floor, Mary’s tears ringing through her ears.
“Thank you, Miss South,” he said as he slapped the notepad shut. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“Have I?” she mumbled with a strained laugh. “I could hand you the killer with a stack of evidence and you would instantly dismiss me.”
“If you hand me the killer with a stack of evidence, I’ll owe you a drink, Miss South,” he said with a wink as he stood up. “But until then, your witness statements are more than enough.”
The DI turned on his heels and strode confidently out of the drawing room, his black trench coat fluttering behind him. She turned back to the bookshelf, wondering how things had turned so peculiar so quickly. Standing up, she walked over to the window and stared out at the loch through the fog. It was growing thicker by the second, keeping them from the rest of the world. Seven hour drive or not, it was more than tempting to jump into her trusty Ford Anglia and drive back to Peridale.
Deciding she was going to have a lie down in her bedroom while DI Fletcher spoke to Dot, Sue, and the others, Julia abandoned the drawing room, but not without looking back at the bookshelf once again. Her stomach squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of the peephole staring directly at her within the mass of leather-bound books. All of a sudden, she had the unnerving feeling she was being watched, and perhaps had been the whole time.
DI Fletcher and Sue walked past her, both giving her very different looks. DI Fletcher’s said ‘go away’, and Sue’s said ‘please stay’. They both slipped into the drawing room, no doubt walking to the seats by the window to prevent eavesdropping. Turning to the empty dining hall, Julia had a better idea than listening in on the interview. With Charlotte and Rory otherwise occupied, she set off weaving between the tables and towards the kitchen.
Julia crept down the winding stone steps, her fingers dragging along the cold wall to steady her. She checked her watch, surprised that it was still only a little after nine. So much had happened since being awoken by Mary at six that morning, it felt like she had fit an entire day into just a few short hours.
Forcing herself not to think about Mary’s crash, she reached the bottom of the stairs and peered through the round window in the door. She was relieved to see Blair alone in the kitchen, leaning over the stove as she moved bacon around in a pan with one hand, while she stirred baked beans with the other. She took a step back and wiped sweat from her rosy forehead, her eyes clenched tightly shut. Julia didn’t know how anybody could expect this young girl to juggle the cooking for an entire castle on her own.
She was about to push on the door to help Blair finish preparing breakfast, but she stopped herself when Blair tore off her apron and tossed it on the table. She was wearing a khaki green wool jumper underneath it, rolled up at the sleeves. She dragged the sleeves down and began pulling it over her head. As she did, her white T-shirt slid up with it. Julia let out a small gasp when she saw the small, yet definite bump protruding out of Blair’s stomach.
Almost out of sheer shock, she hurried into the kitchen, startling Blair as she pulled the jumper over her face. She tossed it onto the table and quickly yanked her shirt down, turning away from Julia as she loosely tied her apron around her waist, just as it had been every other time Julia had seen her.
“You’re pregnant?” Julia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You shouldn’t be down here,” Blair mumbled, her cheeks burning brightly as she flipped the bacon. “Charlotte has forbidden it. You’re going to get me in trouble.”
“You’re pregnant!” Julia repeated, taking a step forward.
Blair turned to face Julia, hovering over the frying pan with the metal spatula in her hand. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, neither of them knowing what to say. The stare was only broken when Blair yelped and tossed the burning hot spatula into the pan. Clutching her burnt hand tightly, she stepped back and immediately began crying. Julia hurried forward and turned off the stove. She took the young girl into her arms, who wrapped her arms around her shoulders, clutching onto her tightly. Through the apron, Julia could feel the tiny life pushing up against her.
“It’s going to be okay,” Julia whispered as she stroked the back of Blair’s head.
“You can’t tell anyone,” she said as she pulled away from the hug, her pale cheeks tear-stained and her nose glistening. “Please, miss. Promise me you won’t say anything.”
“I promise.”
“I haven’t even told Ben yet,” she said as she tried to suppress her sobs. “They’ll fire me if they find out. They’ve done it before. I can’t afford to lose this job. We both send money to our mam back home. She wouldn’t survive without it.”
Blair walked over to the sink, cramming one hand under the cold tap as she wiped her tears with the other. Julia did the only thing she knew what to do. She flicked on the kettle, grabbed two cups, and pulled two peppermint and liquorice tea bags from the box she had given to Blair.
When the kettle boiled, she filled the cups and placed them on the counter. Blair gratefully accepted the tea. Staring into space, she hugged it tight to her chest as the weight of the world pushed down on her. Julia had to remind herself the girl was only nineteen.
“I need to finish breakfast,” Blair said without moving, her eyes still wide. “Charlotte always eats later on a Saturday because she likes to sleep in on the weekends. I had the four new guests this morning, so I’m already running late.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be thinking about breakfast,” Julia said carefully. “Mary died this morning.”
“Died?” Blair furrowed her brow tightly, suddenly turning in her seat. “How?”
“She crashed her car driving away from the castle this morning. I spoke to her just before it happened. The police seem to think it was an accident.”
“You don’t?”
“Do you?” Julia asked, arching a brow. “Considering what happened to Henry, I don’t think there are any accidents around here anymore. Everything has been happening very deliberately and when it’s supposed to.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Blair whispered as she lifted the cup to her lips.
“I think you do,” Julia replied, putting her cup down. “Or you don’t realise you do. I overheard Charlotte talking earlier today, and I didn’t understand what she meant at the time, but I think I do now. I think she knows you’re pregnant. She asked Andrew to get rid of you.”
“Get rid of me?” Blair echoed, the shake in her voice obvious. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, but she wants this castle, and she is doing whatever she can to get it. She got rid of Mary, and I think you’re next. She seems to think you know something that could derail her plans.”
Blair looked down into her cup without blinking. Julia knew Blair knew exactly what she was talking about.
“I don’t know anything,” Blair mumbled, placing the cup on the table and hurrying back over to the stove. “I really need to get on with this before Charlotte calls down.”
“Didn’t you just hear what I said?”
“This has nothing to do with you,” Blair snapped bitterly, casting an angry look over her shoulder at Julia. “You’re just a guest here. You get to go back to your café in two days, and I have to stay here. If Charlotte is going to fire me, I need to work as hard as I can to try and change her mind. I can’t bring my baby into this world without a penny to my name.”
She placed her hand momentarily on her stomach, outlining the shape of the tiny barely-there bump. Julia could feel every part of Blair’s frustration and anger radiating from every pore in her body, but despite her warning, she felt there was nothing she could actually do to improve the girl’s situation.
“Just be careful,” Julia whispered as she passed, resting a hand on Blair’s shoulder. “This family is dangerous.”
Blair shrugged off her hand and focussed on cooking Charlotte’s breakfast as though nothing had sunk in. Sighing to herself, Julia reluctantly pulled on the kitchen door. She cast an eye through the tiny round window before she set off up the winding staircase. Blair lifted her hands up to her eyes and sobbed silently for a moment before shaking her head, picking up the spatula, and flipping the bacon once more.
“Julia?” a voice from the dark startled her.
Julia spun around to see Benjamin. She let out a relieved laugh, glad it wasn’t Charlotte or Rory.
“I was just about to give your note to Blair,” he said, pulling the letter from his pocket. “Is everything okay?”
“There’s no need.” Julia grabbed the note from Ben. “I’ve spoken to her. Can you just keep an eye on her for me? I don’t think she appreciates me sticking my nose in, but I’m worried about her.”
“Of course,” he said quickly. “I always do. She’s my little sister.”
Julia thanked him with a smile before stepping around him. She hurried up the winding staircase and back through to the dining room. The fog had started to clear, but only to be replaced with a
miserable grey sky.
Wondering if Sue was finished with her interview, she pushed her ear up to the door. She strained her hearing, but it was in vain. She looked ahead to the sunroom, where Charlotte and Rory were standing by the window and looking out at the clearing fog. They were both talking in whispers, the amateur dramatic tears from earlier having stopped entirely.
As she walked back to the entrance hall, Julia felt the sands of time slipping away. She had less than two days to get to the bottom of this mystery before she could head home to Peridale with a clear conscience.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning at breakfast, Julia wasn’t surprised when Blair ignored her entirely, only nodding when Julia put in her order for poached eggs on toast. Dot and Sue didn’t seem to notice, so she decided against letting them in on Blair’s secret. She had promised after all, even if that promise didn’t make much difference in the grand scheme of things anymore.
After breakfast, Julia let Sue drag her to the spa one last time, if only to use the quiet time to properly think about everything. No matter how many different theories she pieced together about what had really happened to Henry and Mary McLaughlin, something didn’t sit right every time. Her mind kept landing back on Charlotte, but her vision was clouded, and she knew she was missing vital clues concerning the reasoning behind the murders.
After her facial and shoulder massage, which she had enjoyed more than she had expected to, she wasn’t surprised to see DI Fletcher sniffing around the castle once more. She was, however, surprised to see Andrew McCracken stacking the fire with logs a little before lunch, as though he had never been fired in the first place. When he walked past her, Julia tried her best to make eye contact with the man to see his true intentions, but he appeared to be avoiding her at all costs.