‘What kind of world would this be if every nasty person had a perfectly nice person waiting to kill them, with the excuse that they briefly lost their mind?’
‘I know all that. And being nasty doesn’t break the law. But I’m hoping that it was an accident. I don’t see why it shouldn’t have been. Or that it was someone else, for a reason we can’t understand, or a maniac.’
I now regretted that Sykes and Rosie had let Harriet out of the car to come back here. But it was too late for that.
The same porter was behind the desk at the hospital. He looked like a man who enjoyed his work, and I expect they paid him overtime for Sunday nights.
He made no comment on the fact that I was early. ‘Good morning, Mrs Shackleton. I’ll let Matron know you’re here.’ He picked up the telephone, and wound the handle.
The tapping of footsteps announced Matron’s arrival in the lobby. From the porter’s description of her steely will, I had expected an amazon of a woman with her watch pinned to her front like a campaign medal.
‘Good morning, Mrs Shackleton. I’m Matron.’ The woman with title in place of name was tiny, matchstick thin, jet black of hair, and a smile that came and went so quickly I wondered had I imagined it.
‘Good morning, Matron.’
‘Chief Inspector Charles left a message. You are to take Mrs Murchison back to Ponden Hall.’
‘Very well. And how is she?’
‘Still shocked and upset. She knows of her husband’s death but seems not to have grasped what happened. It may be necessary for her to hear details from the police again.’
‘I’ll say as little as possible and leave it to Chief Inspector Charles.’
‘Does Mrs Murchison have family to rely on?’
‘No, but good friends. We will all do our best.’
‘Then I will leave her in your capable hands. Please make sure she sees her own doctor when she returns home.’
‘I will. Thank you. Should I arrange a taxi? Is she steady on her feet?’
‘We have a driver who will take you back to Ponden Hall.’ She waved towards the porter who acknowledged her signal. ‘An easy walk would do her good. Take her on the moor, let the cobwebs blow away, but nothing too strenuous, given her condition.’
‘Her condition?’
‘Ah, she hasn’t told you.’
‘No.’
‘Then perhaps you ought to know, since she has no one else. I suppose it would have been good news, had her husband been alive.’
Or it might not be such good news, if Edward’s story of Tobias’s impotence was correct.
Suddenly, I understood. This explained why Carine had complained of being sick. I felt stupid for not having realised, and not having noticed a change in her.
‘How far gone is she?’
‘Three months or so.’
‘Thank you for telling me.’
‘My staff nurse will bring Mrs Murchison downstairs. Good luck, Mrs Shackleton.’
With that, she was gone. Good luck. It seemed an odd thing to say.
‘You’re honoured,’ the porter said. ‘She wouldn’t spare an ambulance driver for everyone. I do believe your friend has made bit of a hit with the staff.’
I smiled. ‘She has always been popular. People love her.’
Carine and I sat side by side in the back of the ambulance. She looked pale. Not surprisingly, her usual animation had fled. The ride towards Stanbury was generally smooth, until the vehicle bumped its way onto the turn-off, passing the mill.
The calm waters of the reservoir reflected the blue of a clear and almost cloudless sky, I thought of Elisa Varey’s sister and her unborn child. It must be such a trial for Elisa to see this view every day. Perhaps that played a part in why Mrs Varey had taken to her bed.
Carine had not spoken. I must wait until she felt ready to speak, and not indulge in chit-chat that might seem insensitive, given all she had been through.
She glanced through the vehicle’s back window. ‘I do believe Tobias was happy here once. He spoke of the place in his sleep.’
‘Is that why you suggested coming here?’
‘I don’t remember making any suggestion, Kate. Quite honestly I didn’t know whether we would come at all.’
The ambulance stopped outside Ponden Hall. The driver came round to the back, to help us out.
Carine got out first. She said nothing to the driver, leaving the acknowledgement to me. Normally she would have thanked him and bestowed her smile. That she did not was a sign of her despondency, or distraction.
When I began to walk towards the entrance, Carine hung back.
‘I’d rather sit outside. I don’t want to go in there again. I want to go home.’ She sat on the bench in the courtyard. The sun was now hot, the sky bright. A few small white clouds looked as if they were gliding towards a predestined harbour.
I sat down beside her. ‘I should think we’ll be going home very soon.’ Of course I had no idea when we might be allowed to. There must by now be a sign on Carine’s studio door saying CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. ‘I know that an inspector from Scotland Yard wants a word with you.’
‘Scotland Yard?’
‘Mr Charles, investigating Tobias’s death. There’s no car so he isn’t here yet.’
‘But someone said, on Saturday, it was Toby’s swordstick that opened.’
‘Perhaps that is what he is here to confirm. We’re all in the dark.’
She was quite dry-eyed, though she took out a hanky and sniffled.
‘I just want to go home. I want it to be last week, and for none of this to have happened.’
‘I know.’
‘Where is everyone?’
‘You wait here. I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on.’
When I saw that the hall was deserted, I popped my head around the kitchen door. Not a soul in sight. The only sound was a chesty cough from within the box bed by the side of the kitchen range. I beat a retreat from the kitchen, but as I reached the door, a voice croaked from within the recess.
‘They’re in the field.’
She must have recognised my footsteps. I backtracked and spoke to the bed’s wooden frame. ‘Who?’
‘The young lass, the dog, and the woman who smokes funny-smelling cigarettes.’
‘Harriet and Rita. Thank you.’ How did she know everything? Was there some spyhole, or did she interrogate her daughter?
‘The young feller hasn’t been let free from the lock-up. The poet slung his hook.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Varey.’
So Derek was still in custody, in a cell or an interview room. His love letters might be causing him a good deal of regret. They may even have led to his being charged with murder.
As I went upstairs for my boots and Carine’s walking shoes, I thought again of the Thompson and Bywater case. Bywater was dizzy with love. He had been drinking, was enraged, and his was a mad striking out. If Derek had stabbed Tobias, it was calculated, cold-blooded. Had Carine known that he intended to do it? Another thought occurred to me, that they had colluded, and he gave her a signal to leave. Was that the true reason for her being absent at the moment when the deed was done?
Sitting on the bench beside Carine, I set down her shoes and began to put on my boots.
There was no point in sitting and waiting. Marcus would arrive when he was ready. Harriet had taken my request to heart, that she divert Rita. But they might return at any moment. I did not want to deal with Rita’s exuberance, and what would be her undoubted determination to whisk Carine away. Besides, I hoped that Carine would tell me of her pregnancy, without my having to ask.
‘Carine, Matron advised a walk. If you’re steady enough on your feet, let us do that. Otherwise we will be sitting here like two spare parts.’
I had expected her to object, but she seemed relieved to be under orders, and to have something to do.
‘Yes I’d like that, Kate, but I don’t want to pass any of the places we went on Friday.�
�
‘We won’t.’
‘Perhaps Edward will be here when we come back.’
‘Come on then. I looked up a walk to Ponden Kirk.’
‘Kirk? That’s Scottish for a church isn’t it? I don’t want to visit a church.’
‘It’s not a church, it’s a rock. It may have pagan or druidic connections.’
‘Rita would like it then.’
‘I suppose she would. It’s said to be the inspiration for Penistone Crag in Wuthering Heights. There’s a fairy cave and legends.’
‘What sort of legends?’
‘It’s said that if a maiden climbs down underneath it and crawls through the fairy cave – the space in the rock – she’ll be married within the twelve month, but I don’t think we need take notice of that.’
We set off.
‘It’s such a beautiful day, Carine. A tender shining after the rain.’
‘You should write poetry, like Edward.’
‘That’s not original. It’s how Jane Eyre described a fine day.’
We walked along an upward sloping path, passing cottages and outbuildings. The earth was grooved, marked by the carts that had passed. The way then became enclosed by grey dry stone walls. The walls created the sensation of there being nowhere to turn.
Carine paused by a tree and looked across at the reservoir.
‘It looks different from here. How the water sparkles today.’ A few sheep ambled towards us, one bleating. ‘It’s telling us something,’ Carine said, ‘and we will never know what.’
A little farther on, men worked a quarry. There was a sudden blast, an explosion. A cloud of dust and small stones filled the air. We now climbed steadily towards the moor. It felt like a release when the path gave way to a wide stretch of grass and heather. It was not clear which way we should go. I tried to remember the map, and to look for where others may have walked before us. I must follow the track until reaching a stream.
‘Another waterfall,’ Carine said.
There was nothing dramatic or grand about the waterfall, as if water had taken on the gentle role in this landscape, leaving the drama to the wild moor, the rocks, and those of us who trod there, full of hope and dreams, or despair. Someone had placed stepping stones across the stream.
We paused and looked across the valley.
‘We’re on the top of the world, Carine.’
The view was wide and open, and full of muted colours. In the distance a slight grey mist, perhaps a heat haze, merged with the sky. Even the sky could not keep to one colour, or still the clouds. It changed by the second. We walked on, and saw Ponden Kirk, its great slabs of stone reaching for heaven.
Knowing that the earth and rocks can be damp even in summer, I had brought a small blanket. I spread it on the ground.
Carine arranged her skirt. ‘That rock, it would be just like Edward to be there, and to come clambering round. I have a feeling he might just appear and run to me and the horror of this weekend will slip away.’
‘That would be a miracle.’
‘A miracle?’
‘What were you told, at the police house, and at the hospital?’
She sighed. ‘It’s all a bit of a blur. The sergeant’s wife was very kind but as shocked and speechless as I was. In the hospital, they just wanted me to be quiet, and to rest. You must tell me something or I’ll go mad.’
‘What were you told about Tobias?’
‘That he is dead, and something about a wound, and his swordstick. I warned him about that damn thing. I told him it was dangerous. What happened?’
‘I hardly know myself, Carine. I took Harriet away, to be with my mother. She was so upset. We all were, and concerned for you.’
‘I should have stayed with him. I should have stayed by him, but I felt a dizzy turn coming on, and that sickness. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself and faint or vomit in public.’
‘You did the right thing.’
‘Did Edward know you were coming to fetch me this morning?’
‘Edward has gone. He was interviewed by the officer I told you about and advised to return to his own place.’
‘Why didn’t he wait for me?’ Big tears formed so quickly and rolled down her cheeks. She had powdered her face and the tears streaked away the powder. ‘Oh, Kate, I had a fear something bad had happened. Tobias and Edward were at daggers drawn and Tobias thought Derek was in love with me. Do you think Derek … I can hardly say it.’
‘The police are treating the death as suspicious.’
‘Did someone kill Tobias?’
‘Edward is in the clear. Derek is at Keighley police station.’
‘Do you think he may have done it, and may have confessed?’
‘If he did, the police will tell you.’
‘That foolish boy. I tried to shake him off kindly, I really did.’
I thought of the embrace between them on the night that we agreed there would be an outing. Unless I was remembering it wrongly, she did not look like a person trying to shake off an admirer. She had pushed him away with a ‘not now’ shake of her head, or perhaps that was simply kindness.
‘I can’t stop thinking that the police must have evidence, if they are holding Derek. I would never forgive myself if he had harmed Tobias on account of me.’
‘Had he ever said anything to make you suspect that he would hurt Tobias?’
‘Yes. He got it into his head that Tobias mistreated me, and he did say …’
‘Go on.’
‘No. I can’t. I won’t say anything that would get him into trouble. Kate, I did not encourage him. You must believe me. On the day we were to meet at the Kardomah to plan this outing, after my father died, I had half a mind to have nothing to do with the outing because it gave Derek an excuse to see me.’
And yet, in spite of her denial, I felt sure that the suggestion of Ponden Hall was hers. I should have asked her about this earlier. I hoped that I had kept the suggestions and could check the handwriting. If, as she had let slip, Tobias talked in his sleep about the place, he may have betrayed his guilty secret. Ponden Hall must have been the last place he wanted to come.
‘It’s as plain as day that Derek worships you.’
She began to sob, great wrenching sobs that shook her body. I put my arm around her, trying to calm her.
It was long minutes before she stopped sobbing, and still the tears rolled down her cheeks. Her face was blotchy, her nose and cheeks red and shining. ‘Edward has done it again. He’s left me again.’
‘He’s gone back to his school.’
‘No. I know him. He’s gone again.’ Finally, she became quiet, and stared across at Ponden Kirk. ‘I hate that rock. It’s sinister.’ A note of panic entered her voice. ‘A person could fall, top to bottom. The cold stone ground would come up to meet her.’
‘We’ll be all right, Carine. We haven’t come far, and we’ll easily find our way back.’
She gave a small scoffing sound. ‘There is no way back.’
Carine stumbled as she rose. I made a sudden and anxious grab to steady her and my look gave too much away.
She said quietly. ‘Matron told you then.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then apart from me, and everyone in that clinic, you are the first to know.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘How do I look?’
‘Wretched.’
‘Then my look doesn’t lie.’
We walked on, retracing our steps. The beck we had crossed seemed to flow more rapidly. Being overcautious now, I watched Carine take the stepping stones carefully, and kept close behind her. She reached the other side. I could relax because she was safely across. Perhaps that moment of self-forgetfulness made me lose my footing. I fell, full length into the water, hitting the hard rocks below, giving my right arm a terrible thump, soaking my clothes and myself.
I let out a yell, and then groaned – not from pain but annoyance.
‘Oh, Kate!’ Carine reached out a han
d but I did not trust myself to take it.
‘I don’t want to drag you down.’
‘I can’t be dragged any lower.’
I found my feet and regained my balance.
I trod carefully across the remaining stepping stones to the opposite bank. This could have been worse. If Carine had taken my tumble, she might have lost the baby.
Perhaps my fall had helped her gain a sense of balance. She seemed calm, almost resigned to something. I could not ask her again how she was feeling now. All the same, she told me.
‘I am feeling as if I shall have a little girl, and that her middle name will be Carine. Her first name will be Geraldine, for my mother. And no one will come between us.’
The last words were almost a whisper, and a plea.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
An Odd Place to Hide a Letter
Carine and I arrived back at Ponden Hall. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks swollen from crying. After the unwanted dip in the stream, my clothes were soaked through and I was shivering.
There was a constabulary car on the track outside Ponden Hall. Marcus had arrived. He was seated on the bench in the courtyard.
He was, as usual, perfectly composed as he stood to greet this bedraggled pair.
He raised his hat. ‘Can I get you a towel, Mrs Shackleton?’ He kept a straight face and looked neither over-concerned nor, thankfully, amused.
‘I’ll be all right thanks. I’ll just take off my boots in the hall and then sort myself out.’ This was the first time I have undertaken a formal introduction while dripping wet. ‘Carine, this is Mr Marcus Charles from Scotland Yard. Mr Charles, Mrs Murchison.’
I left them to fend for themselves, and escaped inside. There is a convenient chair where people may sit to remove their boots. I sat down and unlaced mine.
Marcus and Carine came in, tactfully paying me little attention. He is actually quite good looking, in an overbearing way. Carine seemed pleasingly calm as they walked along the corridor.
I set my boots by the umbrella stand. It contained several walking sticks, and three umbrellas. One of them had a broken spoke, which reminded me that Harriet was supposed to have had our broken umbrella mended. I wondered if she had taken it to the stall in the market. As so often happens, it is the trivial things of life that catch my attention at odd moments. An image came into my head: Harriet in the cinema queue. She had dropped her umbrella, while taking money from her purse for the ticket.
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