Midnight Capers

by Rebecca King

  Mr Abraham waved her to his office. Once they were seated, he placed his folded hands on the desk. “Go ahead,” he urged gently.

  “I want to know how I can go about getting my inheritance. You must have heard about my guardian’s arrest by the Star Elite. Nobody can consider her a suitable guardian for me anymore. My father would have had a seizure if he had known what she was really like. Do you think I stand a chance of getting my guardianship revoked?”

  “I know you can,” Mr Abraham smiled, handing a folder. “I am delighted to say that the Star Elite have been to see me already.”

  Pheony blinked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

  “When Augusta was arrested, they came to see me to discuss the legal matter of your guardianship. You see, a convict cannot be someone’s guardian,” Mr Abraham informed her. “The Star Elite asked me to put a case together and arranged for a judge to preside over it as a matter of urgency. They have been trying to find you to tell you that Augusta is no longer your guardian. The judge also ruled that she has no further claim on any allowance from your father, and that you were to receive your full inheritance at once.” Mr Abraham handed her a sheet of paper upon which were columns of numbers. Seeing her confusion, he pointed out the amount Pheony now had at her disposal.

  Pheony blinked at the sum on the paper. “Is that all mine?” she breathed.

  “It is indeed. Now, I have been asked to give you this.”

  Stunned, Pheony took a small card off him and stared thoughtfully down at the gold, filigree lettering on it. “The boss of the Star Elite has asked that you contact him as a matter of urgency. I am afraid that there is some concern about your welfare. I am sure Mr Monteys will be delighted to know that you are all right.”

  “Good Lord,” Pheony whispered. She couldn’t take her eyes off the amount that was her inheritance. “It is all mine,” she repeated dully.

  “Yes. Now, I need to know where you are staying,” Mr Abraham murmured. He waved an airy hand in a circle. “You know, so I can send you all of the paperwork relating to your guardianship.” He quickly scribbled down the address Pheony gave him, and then read it back to her. “That is Willershaw, isn’t it?”

  “It is. It is a small cottage that is quite remote,” Pheony murmured.

  “I heard that is where that Mr Morton is lurking. You know, the man the Star Elite are chasing.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Might it be best if you stay at Augusta’s residence for the time being? I mean, she isn’t at home and will need someone to look after the property while she is away.”

  Pheony was shaking her head before Mr Abraham had finished talking. “I am not going back there. However, I do need help getting my belongings out of the house.”

  “I believe that the Star Elite have already done it,” Mr Abraham murmured. “It might be worth your while contacting them and asking them to arrange for it to be delivered to you.”

  “There is some furniture that is mine as well,” Pheony replied doubting that they would know it belonged to her.

  “The Star Elite has a set of keys to the house. Maybe they can open the house up for you. The property belongs to a criminal they have arrested, so they are going to have to be the ones who decide when you can access the house to get your things back. I am sure they won’t mind. Best get in touch with them, eh?”

  Pheony nodded but felt nervous at the prospect of doing so. Still, if she didn’t, Pheony knew that she wasn’t likely to be able to retrieve the belongings that mattered the most to her.

  Because they are all I have.

  “I will do that, Mr Abraham, thank you,” Pheony whispered.

  “Now, I will arrange for the money to be transferred into your name. Meantime, I have been asked to hand you this. You know, to help you with your immediate needs. If you do move, please let me know where to find you so I know where to send any documentation.”

  “I will indeed, Mr Abraham, and thank you,” Pheony enthused, taking a thick envelope off Mr Abraham. She held it for a moment, a little surprised by its weight, but wasn’t so crass as to sit and openly count how much he had given her while she was with him.

  “I will be in touch in due course. It is a pleasure to see you again,” Mr Abraham smiled. He kept his smile firmly in place, even while Pheony passed the window of his office. Once she had gone, though, he stared down at the paper in his hand and carefully pocketed it before returning to his desk. He began to write a letter, but then decided that going to see the Star Elite was probably more expedient.

  Pheony wandered into the village and decided to buy some food to take home with her, and a basket, and possibly a new shawl. She smiled suddenly, revelling in her new-found freedom. It was wonderful if still a little overwhelming. However, having purchased her basket, a new shawl, bonnet, and a pair of gloves to complete her outfit, she then purchased some food. The choices on offer were delightful. It was a revelation to be able to choose what she wanted to eat, not what she was told to purchase. In her head, she had to suddenly plan meals, and decide what she would like for breakfast, for tea and dinner, and purchased the lot. By the time she had finished she had not one but two baskets laden with food, tea, and luxuries that she had never once dreamed she could sample, the most exciting of which was chocolate.

  “I think I had better stop spending,” she muttered to herself as she contemplated the long walk home and the weight of the baskets she had to carry.

  It was then that she remembered what Bert had said about being able to catch a public coach to Willershaw. Minutes later, she stepped into the stable yard just in time to watch the public carriage lunge into the yard. It turned in a semi-circle until it was facing the entrance and then lurched to a stop right before her. Amazed at how fast it moved, Pheony climbed aboard. She had never been on a public coach before. To sit with other passengers, total strangers, and nod and smile like everyone else without having Augusta jabbing her in the ribs or scolding her about something made the journey so much more enjoyable. It was a shame when the carriage rumbled to a stop in Willershaw and she had to disembark.

  “The problem is I have no idea which way to go to get back to the cottage,” Pheony whispered as she watched the coachman toot his horn before the carriage resumed its wild race through the countryside. Pheony felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as she picked her baskets up because she didn’t even know the address to use to ask the villagers if they knew where Mavis’s cottage was.

  “But I have to try to get directions because I cannot stay out here all day, or spend my life wandering around the countryside looking for it.” Pheony couldn’t even remember which route Bert had taken this morning to Oakley Bridge. With miles and miles of open countryside all around her, it was difficult to distinguish one field from the next.

  “Excuse me,” she called politely to an elderly gentleman who was digging his vegetable patch. “Do you know a lady called Mavis?”

  “Mavis Roundwell? Aye, but I think she has gone to see her sister,” the man replied, eyeing her baskets. “Are you a friend?”

  “Yes, well a friend of mine knows her. I-I am looking after her cottage for her while she is away.”

  “Ah, Mavis did say something about that,” the man murmured, ambling closer.

  “I feel such a goose. I have been into Oakley Bridge but have lost my bearings. How do I get back to the cottage?”

  The elderly man grinned at her. “Go back through the village. At the end of the main street, there is a church. When you reach it, turn right, and follow the road up the hill and through the trees. It brings you out at a small cart track. Mavis’s cottage is about half a mile down there. You can’t miss it. You can see the village rooftops from her upstairs windows on a clear day.”

  Pheony nodded because all she had been able to see whenever she had looked out of the windows were trees. Lots and lots of trees.

  I daren’t ask how the man knows what the view looks like out of Mavis’s bed chamber win
dow.

  Mentally rolling her eyes, Pheony politely thanked the man, picked up her baskets, and began to make her way through the village. At first, she was distracted by the need to mentally plot her route in her head and remember what the old man had said. Finding the main street wasn’t a problem, or the church, but when she looked around for the cart track, she spotted a strange looking man standing in the middle of the path behind her. It wasn’t his presence on the path she found unnerving. It was the way he was standing perfectly still, staring steadily at her. Further, he was dressed head to toe in black. Pheony looked around for help, but there was nobody nearby. Everyone was wandering up and down the main street half a mile away. At this end of the street, there were few houses and almost no pedestrians.

  Pheony daren’t take her eyes off the man. Even when she made eye contact with him, he continued to stare unblinkingly at her. She wondered if he was ill, or a ghost, or a figment of her imagination. Suddenly, the trees beside her seemed more of a threat than a way home. In the back of her mind, Bert’s news about the death of the young woman in the village hovered warningly in the shadows and started to niggle at her. Her gut instinct was screeching at her that this man before her was responsible for the young woman’s murder but what he could possibly want with her was beyond her.

  He must be Finlay Morton.

  She didn’t doubt that this man was the kind of person the Star Elite wanted to arrest. There was a hardness to him, and cold ruthlessness in his eyes, that warned Pheony he was sinister. Her heart began to pound. She took a nervous step backward. To her horror, he stepped toward her. For each step she took backward, he took one forward, not crowding her but not allowing her to put distance between them either. Pheony knew that if she made a run for the trees, his long legs would eat up the distance between them quickly and she would be caught before she could hide. In the trees, she wouldn’t be able to run as fast as he could. He could kill her just as easily as he had killed that other young woman. She would then become another news article, another person the locals would forget in time, another stain on the village’s fine reputation but a stain nonetheless. Pheony began to feel sick. She began to shake so violently that she wasn’t sure if her knees were going to hold her up for much longer.

  Pheony suspected that she would have died that day had several people not come out of the church. She heard the murmur of their voices and looked across the road at them. That split second of distraction gave Morton enough time to dodge out of sight. When Pheony looked at the spot he had been standing, she found it empty. That unnerved her more than anything because she had no idea where he had gone. Still, when the group of people left the churchyard and began to make their way into the village, Pheony was right beside them.

  All she could do now was go to the farrier’s and hope that Bert was there to help her again.

  Dean was staring blankly down at the brush in his hand. Mentally, he was miles away. Daniel snapped his fingers beneath Dean’s nose and shared a knowing look with Roger.

  “Have you decided what to do about her yet?” Roger prompted.

  “Who?” Dean feigned disinterest but sighed heavily and looked dejectedly down at his boots when neither of his colleagues answered him.

  “You know who,” Roger pressed eventually when the silence had become uncomfortable.

  “He is going to keep pretending that he doesn’t care about her until he has finished ruining any chance of happiness he has ever had. Then he is going to make us all keep suffering.”

  “I haven’t made you suffer,” Dean protested. “How?” he demanded when Roger and Hamish shook their heads at him and returned to saddling their horses.

  Dean hurriedly saddled his horse because he wanted to leave now that they had broached the subject he least wanted to discuss. After the last few weeks of misery that he had endured he didn’t even want to think about Pheony anymore much less talk about her. She had haunted his every waking moment and had created every single ounce of regret he had flowing through his veins. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep. He had tried to forget the lingering dreams he had about her every night to the point that he frequently lay in bed at night, cold, tired, exhausted, and trying his hardest to forget about her so sleep could claim him and he could start the whole miserable cycle again.

  “Jesus, I am going out of my bloody mind,” he growled suddenly clutching at his hair.

  The wind swirling around outside suddenly picked up pace as if trying to summon his darkest thoughts from the depths of his soul. Dean tipped his head back and allowed the wind to sweep over him in the desperate hope that it would remove some of his misery. The wind nipping at his cheeks stole all trace of warmth from his flesh, but he revelled in the piercing pain because it dulled the gnawing ache in the centre of his chest. If he hadn’t been so lost in his thoughts of Pheony he would have suspected that there was something seriously wrong with him and gone to see a surgeon. But he knew that a surgeon couldn’t help him with this. Nobody could. Right now, he couldn’t even help himself.

  “Sir?”

  At first, Dean didn’t even the stranger’s the rather timid voice coming from the darkness in front of him.

  “What is it?” Roger asked, stepping around Dean and giving him a sharp nudge in the ribs in warning. On this occasion, the visitor was harmless, but it could have been Morton standing out in the rain. If it had been, Dean would be dead by now. Standing in an open doorway was a foolish mistake for any of the Star Elite to make, even when they were at their base.

  “I have seen Morton, sir, just half an hour ago. He was standing in Willershaw.”

  Roger stepped toward the man and realised that it was the owner of the grocer’s shop. “Are you sure it was him?”

  “Yes, sir. He was watching a young lady.”

  “Did you see who it was?” Hamish asked.

  “Describe her,” Roger ordered when the grocer shook his head.

  The woman the grocer described sounded so much like Pheony that Dean dropped his brush and stepped toward the man. “Did Morton mention the young woman’s name? Did you recognise her?”

  “No, sir. She isn’t local. I heard someone say that she is looking after Mavis’s house for a while and came to the village with a man, but nobody knows who they are.”

  “Is the man staying with the woman?” Dean’s tone was sharp.

  “I don’t know, sir. I don’t think so. I have heard that the man is working for the farrier now. He is cousins with him or something,” the grocer scratched his head. “Does he have something to do with Morton?”

  “No. I don’t think so. The woman and the farrier’s assistant are innocent people looking for a fresh start. Can you tell me where to find this Mavis’s house? Was Morton interested in this young woman?”

  “Yes, sir,” the grocer replied. “I saw him lurking in the butchery doorway just now even though it is raining. He seems to be waiting for someone or is biding his time.”

  “And he was there when you left,” Roger pressed.

  “Yes, sir.” The grocer gave Roger the directions to Mavis’s house, and told him where to find the farrier too.

  “Go home,” Roger ordered him. “Don’t stop for anything. Thank you for taking the time to come and tell us.”

  “I want that blackguard off the streets as much as the rest of the villagers, sir,” the grocer growled once he had mounted his horse. “I hope you catch him.”

  “Oh, we will catch him all right,” Roger muttered before vaulting into his saddle. By the time he was ready to leave, his men were right beside him.

  Together, the Star Elite thundered across the countryside at break-neck pace, determined this time that Morton was not going to escape.

  “Do you think it was Pheony who Morton was watching?” Hamish called to Roger.

  “It has to be. How many other people do you know look like her? The grocer described her perfectly,” Roger replied.

&
nbsp; Dean was riding between them and listening to every word but didn’t answer. Instead, he urged his horse to gallop just that little bit faster.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Pheony stared at the front door of the farrier’s house and knocked again but there were no lights on inside. She didn’t think that anybody was at home.

  Over the last hour, the sky had darkened considerably. Thunder rattled the sky, which was occasionally lit by jagged forks of lightning. Pheony stood shivering on the farrier’s doorstep, studying the darkened street all about her, and for the first time in her life had no idea what to do. Bert wasn’t around to help her this time. She was all alone at a time when she really needed him. Danger lurked nearby she could feel it. It might have been the stillness of the evening that unnerved her, but it wasn’t just that, she was sure of it. It wasn’t the thunderstorm either. Whatever bothered her was far more sinister. She sensed she was being watched, studied, and she suspected she knew who it was.

  “I have to go home.” But the thought of leaving the front doorstep of the farrier’s was terrifying. Pheony had no idea how she was going to get through the trees to the cottage and safety without being killed by Morton. He had the ability to move freely, and far faster than she could. She was hindered not just by the skirt of her dress, but by her baskets, cloak, and the fact that she was so cold she was shaking. “I have to try anyway.”

  Squaring her shoulders, Pheony forced herself to move. She focused on the road ahead and stuck to the shadows herself. Despite her bravery, her heart pounded, and she shook from head to foot but not from the cold. Once or twice, she thought she heard footsteps behind her, but when she looked over her shoulder, nobody was there.

  “I cannot allow my imagination to get the better of me. He has probably gone by now anyway,” she whispered to herself, but she wasn’t so confident when another splintered streak of lightening lit the road behind her, and she saw that awfully familiar figure standing in the middle of the road again. Without thinking about what she was going to do when she reached the woods, Pheony began to run.