The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  “Maria, how terrible! I had no idea…” Lost for words, her voice fell away.

  “I cannot remember ever feeling so bad in my whole life before. Your sister found me on the floor, crying.” Maria pulled away. “Come, let us walk again.” They set off along the track, each wrapped up in their own private thoughts. It was Bella who spoke first.

  “When did you find out about his death?” Maria knew where this was leading but there was nothing she could do about it. Bella would find out sooner or later.

  “It was three, maybe four days later, I think. Rupert came to see me.”

  “Rupert?”

  “Si. They had been having a shoot for pheasants on the estate and one of the beaters came across Patrick’s body. He had been shot.” The revelation stopped Bella in her tracks. Slowly she turned to her mother, her face the colour of chalk.

  “Which estate are you talking about, mama?”

  “The one which was in this place, in Dorset.” Automatically she took Bella’s hand. “Patrick was killed here, in Knapthorne.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Out of the blue, Bella’s whole world had been turned upside down. Everything that she had come to appreciate about her new lifestyle had suddenly become tainted by a spectre from the past.

  “Patrick was killed here, in Knapthorne?” In her shocked state, Bella repeated the words to her mother, trying to grasp the significance of what she’d just heard. Her mouth hung open as she stared at Maria.

  “Si, bellissima. I’m sorry but it is the truth.”

  “You mean he was murdered?” she said, in disbelief.

  "We never know. The police came to see me, of course. There were many guns involved in shoot. Guns provided by Estate. Every gun same. Also same......” she paused, unable to bring the word to mind.

  "Ammunition," Bella murmured, her face suddenly pale.

  "That is word, si. Ammunition. Nothing was ever proved." Bella was struggling to find words with her emotions in freefall.

  Nobody saw anything? Heard anything?" she asked, in a small voice, and watched in amazement as Maria shook her head. As the full realisation of what had happened to Patrick set in Bella pursed her lips in an unsuccessful attempt to hold back the tears. Feeling suddenly faint she grasped her mother’s shoulder for support and Maria took Bella in her arms, embracing her, as her daughter wept silently.

  “Whereabouts, exactly, was his body found do you know?” Bella asked when she had recovered sufficiently to speak. Maria shook her head.

  “I have no idea. Rupert did the…” Maria gave an exasperated sigh. “What is the word I want? I am getting old and I begin to forget too much.

  “Identification.” Bella said, helpfully.

  “Ah! Identification. For a short time I think he was under suspicion also.” Bella looked horrified but Maria patted her hand.

  “Do not worry, cara mia, there was nothing they could prove but I had told police of the argument and of what Patrick had said he would do.” Bella’s mind was spinning, her thoughts going in every direction. What had Rupert been thinking of, bequeathing her Willow Cottage, when he had known that Patrick had been murdered in the area? And what had Patrick been doing in Knapthorne, even? More to the point, who had shot him?” For one of the very few times in her life, Bella felt angry at her mother and turned on her.

  “Why have you never told me any of this before?” she asked, hotly. Maria had been expecting such a reaction and tried to remain calm.

  “Why should you need to know such things? Rupert and I have always tried to protect you. You hardly knew Patrick, Arabella. It seemed for the best not to rock the ship.”

  “Boat, mother,” Bella said, angrily. She stamped her foot down on the hard earth, seeking an outlet for her anger and frustration.

  “God, why is it when I just seem to be getting my life in order something turns up to jumble up all the pieces. Aaaaaggghhhh!,” she yelled, at the top of her voice, and a flock of startled birds rose from the trees as Maria covered her ears. Bella stood, hands on hips, breathing heavily and looking down on Willow Cottage.

  “I can’t believe it! In the space of twenty-four hours I find out that my uncle is my father and, not only that, but the man who I had thought was my father was shot and killed in the very village I’m living in!”

  By the time the two of them had got back to Willow Cottage, Bella had her emotions under some sort of control although it felt like what she had learned had, in some way, ignited a slow-burning fuse within her. They hadn’t spoken much on the way back, Bella content to rifle through the storehouse of her memories examining them in the light of her new knowledge. Maria, realising that her daughter was having to come to terms with a major wind-shift in her life, let her have her own space and left her to it. When the time was right, Bella would talk and she knew it wouldn’t be long. Arabella wasn’t one for bottling up her feelings.

  “At the time, did Laura know Patrick was killed here, in Knapthorne?” They were hanging up their coats, in the lobby, as Bella put the question to her mother.

  “Yes,” Maria replied, quietly. “Neither Rupert or I told her such a thing. Only that he was dead but, from an early age, your sister is inquisitive one and very devious.” Bella’s eyes narrowed, then she looked thoughtful.

  “So, all along, from the moment I inherited Willow Cottage, she’s known it was close to the place where Patrick died.” It was said for her own benefit as much as Maria’s but her mother nodded. “No wonder she was so jealous!” She stared at her mother in amazement. “Come on. I need caffeine. Let’s go and have a coffee.” Maria followed her to the kitchen and sat at the table watching her daughter work.

  “It is my fault you are feeling so bad, bella mia. I do not blame you. I should have told you before, you are right.”

  “I spoke in the heat of the moment, Maria. After all, it was the second shock I’d had in two days,” she said, over her shoulder. Guilt was gnawing at her, especially knowing her mother would be under stress from her upcoming operation. “I shouldn’t have spoken that way.”

  “In your place, I would be the same, it is no problem. You are forgiven,” she smiled. Bella brought their coffees to the table.

  “Tell me about you and Rupert, then,” she said, as she sat down.

  “I wondered when you would ask.” She took Bella’s hand. “As I can see Patrick in your sister, so also I see Rupert in you every time I look at you. It is very…”

  “Comforting, mama?”

  “That is so. He was such a good man, your father. Patrick was fun, a little crazy even. Rupert was totally different. It was so easy to fall for him when Patrick turned bad."

  “You make him sound like a piece of rotten fruit!”

  “Si, he was like the rotten apple.” Maria gave a hollow laugh. “I should never have married him, Arabella. I like to be free, always.” Along with everything else that she had discovered recently, Bella was also getting to know her mother better. “You do the strangest things when you are young.”

  “You’re not the only one to have made that mistake, mama.” It occurred to her then that perhaps she had more in common with her mother than she had realised.

  “It was not in my nature to be unfaithful to Patrick but his affairs made it easier, I think. But, do not get me wrong, bellissima, your uncle never made me do anything I didn’t want to. I wanted his baby.” Bella was amazed at her mother being so forthright.

  “You are shocked, no?”

  “I don’t know if shocked is the right word. More surprised, I’d say. Tell me why you felt that way.” A look of hesitation clouded Maria’s eyes, she pursed her lips and gave out a small sigh.

  “Always I have followed my instincts. This is not, all the time, a good thing. Like marrying Patrick. But this is Maria. It is the way I am.” Bella could sense her mother thinking in Italian then translating as she spoke. “Since being little I have always wanted baby girl. The feeling grew bigger as I got older. Then I had Laura, your sister.�
� Maria gave a barely detectable grimace. “But she is not the baby girl I wanted. Do you understand?” Bella nodded but refrained from making a comment. “As I got to know Rupert better, I knew he was the one I wanted to be father of my baby.”

  “But it could have been a boy!” Maria shook her head.

  “Here,” she clasped a hand to her chest, “I know, with certainty, that it would be a girl. Of course, after we make the baby we could not give each other up. The longer it went on the more likely it was for Patrick to find out.”

  “And what about poor Liam? He was caught up in the middle of all this.”

  “Always, I think, he felt like the stranger. He never grew to like Italy and left for America as soon as he could. A confused boy but perhaps he was not helped by his family, I don’t know.” Her mother was looking tired and Bella knew that she should let her rest but there was one more question she wanted to ask. Something else Maria would never talk about.

  “So why did you take us all back to Italy?” Tears came to Maria’s eyes at the memory of it, the parting. Having to leave the only man she had ever loved.

  “Rupert’s wife found him out and said she would leave him. He loved her, Arabella, I had always known that.” Her mother was crying openly now, her face a picture of misery. Bella felt terrible, wishing she’d not been so selfish in wanting to open the old wound.

  “Maria,” she began, putting an arm on her mother’s shoulder. “I should have known better than to ask…”

  “No! It is good that I tell you. Good for me and better that you know the truth. Forgive an old woman’s tears. It was all such a long time ago.” Bella’s eyes were moist and she found she couldn’t speak. Daren’t speak, or she would be in the same state as her mother.

  “I didn’t want another marriage and Rupert couldn’t face the thought of his wife leaving him. But we couldn’t stay away from each other, so I made the decision to go. For Rupert’s sake.” She looked up at Bella, suddenly. “No, that is not the whole truth. “Also for your sakes, my children. To start a new life away from all the sadness.” How incredible of her, Bella thought, that she could leave the man she loved in that way.

  “Rupert made sure that I would never be short of money and, of course, he was always going to look after his Arabella.” Maria looked around her as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Do you wonder about this place, why he left it to you?” Bella nodded. “It was my idea. We knew that one day you would find out what had happened but hoped you would understand. The cottage is about the future, not what had gone on in the past. If it is not so then you must blame my instinct. Rupert would never argue with it. If he had have done, cara mia, you and I would not be talking.”

  At Bella’s insistence, Maria had gone upstairs to lie down although it wasn’t yet mid-day. Her mother had looked strained and tired. The thought of her having to drive back to London the following day and then make the trip home concerned Bella and she’d suggested that her mother rest. Alone now, she sat in an armchair in the lounge, her feet up on the coffee table. Reflecting on the past twenty-four hours she began to attempt to put her life in perspective, given everything that she had been told. The fact Maria had lived with this knowledge for so many years amazed her, knowing how bad she, herself, was at keeping secrets. At least she and her mother differed in that respect! And why had her mother’s instinct told her about the cottage? Had she realised that it was likely to be the key to Bella learning about the past? Had the secrets become too much for her mother to hold on to and she had discovered a means of bridging a gap between past and present knowing that the truth would come out? It was impossible to know, she conceded. Then a random thought struck her and she experienced a sense of growing excitement. With all the drama of her mother’s revelations, she hadn’t said anything to Maria about her own life at Willow Cottage and what had happened since she moved in. Lifting her feet from the table, Bella stood up and began to pace about. If Patrick had been killed around here then Cora, Samuel or even Joshua, would have to know something. Of course! Whatever they might be able to recall about past events might help her piece together a clearer picture of Patrick’s demise. Jane’s voice, in the back of her mind, played devil’s advocate. But the killer had never been found. Was it, indeed, Rupert and had he been clever enough to outwit the police? Or could he have paid someone else to get rid of his brother? Bella considered this, then she thought of Kyle, and the reaction Cora had had to the information he’d turned up. Would it be better to leave things as they were now, knowing what she had been told by her mother, and let sleeping dogs lie? Her instincts told her no. The thought of someone in the village having information about her family’s past intrigued her and the prospect of finding out was just too exciting. Even if it did mean confronting the redoubtable Cora Flint.

  Chapter Thirty

  Maria slept for a couple of hours and when she came down Bella prepared them a salad for lunch which they ate seated at the table outside. That afternoon the two of them pottered in the garden and Bella took the opportunity to bring her mother up-to-date with her recent life. She kept the details simple, missing out facts that she felt were inappropriate. Neither did she allude to anything which had happened that was in any way related to her past. Maria had had enough anxiety for one trip and Bella could imagine that the operation would be preying on her mind. The conversation was light-hearted. A mother and daughter enjoying the pleasure of each other’s company. But they talked in a more intimate way than they had ever done before, Bella getting to know the real Maria Roffino as opposed to chatting to her mother. It was a time for humorous home truths and whispered confessions. An opportunity for each of them to tear down the barriers of convenience and security that protected their inner selves. For Maria, there was an urgency to this that had been one of the reasons behind her trip. Unsure of what her future might be, she had wanted to give Bella an insight into her mother in the hope that it would help explain the past. Bella, on the other hand, was just experiencing the most sublime feeling of happiness, thinking how lucky she was. Wasn’t this exactly how every mother and daughter should be?

  Standing outside the cottage, waving to her mother as the car disappeared from view, Bella was quite surprised at herself. She had been dreading this moment. Over the past two days Maria had seemed more like a sister to her, like the sister she had always wanted. Knowing now that she and Laura had different fathers helped explain things, especially now she knew more about Patrick’s personality. But instead of feeling a great sadness at her mother’s departure, Bella felt in some strange way reassured and comforted by Maria’s visit. A calmness had descended on her that refused to allow any thoughts of unhappiness at her mother’s leaving to intrude upon it. Something told her that the operation would be a success and there would me many other times like their afternoon in the garden. Far from being unhappy, she was looking forward to travelling to Lucca in the near future. With Maria gone, the prospect of visiting Cora Flint filled her thoughts. Since she had walked out last week Bella had heard nothing from her. A woman like Cora would have her pride she realised and, whatever she was feeling, it would be difficult for her to make the first move even if she wished to. There was nothing for it, the mountain would have to go to Muhammad. Or should that be the other way round, she wondered, with a guilty grin. Already it was Wednesday, and late morning at that. There was no time to be lost if she wanted Cora to turn up in the morning. She ran indoors to make sure everything was locked, which reminded her to contact the security company again. They had promised to come out and inspect the cottage in order to give her a quote and that had been over a week ago. Satisfied everything was in order, she shut the door firmly behind her and walked to the car. The battery seemed loathe to turn the engine over at first but finally it fired into life and she made a mental note to give the car a good run, as soon as possible.

  Less than ten minutes later Bella arrived outside Cora’s home, a terraced house on the end of a row of six. Market Street, a turning off
of the high street and on the same side as The Lamb, was surprisingly wide and the front door of the house opened directly onto the pavement. The brickwork on the front of the houses in the terrace had been painted a uniform grey, beneath each slate roof, but the woodwork around the doors and windows was brightly painted, a different colour for each home. One or two had window boxes on the ground floor windows adding another splash of colour. From the outside the houses looked neat, tidy and well maintained. Giving herself no time to reflect on what she was about to do, Bella got out of the car which she had parked outside number six. Locking the car, a habit imported from London, she approached Cora’s front door and lifted the gleaming brass knocker. After giving it two smart raps she stood back and waited. As the seconds ticked by Bella felt the tension building up as she was possibly about to come face-to-face with Cora Flint. The longer it took for the door to be answered, the more unsettled she became. When the door opened in front of her, at last, not a sound had preceded it from inside the house and, suddenly, there stood Cora, a cold, dispassionate glare on her face.

  “What you’m a-wantin’ then, Miss Foxton?” It wasn’t said in a pleasant way but rather like there couldn’t possibly be anything the two of them had to talk about.

  “I’d like to talk to you, Cora, if you don’t mind.”

  “What’s there to say?” The big woman folded her arms in front of her. The action was a statement in itself. Bella was determined not to find herself apologising for what had taken place and decided that telling the truth was the best policy. Well, very nearly the truth.

  “Mrs. Flint, I’ve just found out that Patrick, my father, died here in Knapthorne many years ago…” The words had a startling effect on the woman which was vividly reflected in the look on her face. A mixture of shock and confusion transformed her features, totally taking Bella by surprise. So much so, in fact, that when Cora began to shut the door on her she was almost caught out but threw her weight against it just in time.