Haunted by the Past, page 22
part #11 of Ismael Jones Series
“To Wendy’s room, of course,” said Catherine, starting up the stairs.
“I thought she was staying with you?” said Penny.
“That was last night,” Catherine said impatiently. “I’m fine now.”
“Something must have happened, to make her break off from following you,” I said. “And it must have been important, to distract her from a falling gargoyle. Something that mattered to her....Catherine! Does Wendy have anything in her room, that she would want to protect?”
Catherine didn’t even glance back at me, as she threw her reply over her shoulder. She sounded irritated that I was bothering her with questions when she had far more important matters on her mind.
“How would I know what Wendy has in her room? Her things, I suppose. She didn’t have much with her when she arrived. Just the one suitcase, as I recall.”
We reached the top of the stairs, and then had to pause as Catherine leaned on the bannisters to get her breath back. I looked along the passageway, as I heard someone moving about. There was no one in sight, which meant they had to be in one of the other rooms. Catherine headed for Wendy’s door, and Penny and I went after her.
Marion emerged from a room further down the corridor, and came hurrying forward. She went to pass us by with just a brief nod, but I stepped forward to block her way, so she had no choice but to stop and talk to us. She gave me a hard look, but did her best to sound calm and businesslike and not at all long-suffering.
“Is this really important, Mr. Jones? Only I do have a lot of work to be getting on with.”
“It might be,” I said. “We’re looking for Wendy. Have you seen her recently?”
“No,” said Marion. “But I did hear footsteps coming up the stairs not long ago, and a door open and close.”
“Could you tell which room?” I said.
She looked at me. “Not from behind a closed door, no.”
“Didn’t you come out, to see who it was?” said Penny.
“Of course not,” said Marion. “It was none of my business. You’re all free to go wherever you want, as guests in the Hall.” She turned her attention back to me. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen my husband anywhere, have you?”
“He’s working at the reception desk,” I said.
“Well, what’s he doing down there?” said Marion. “He knows he’s supposed to be helping me clean these rooms out! Honestly, you can’t take your eyes off anyone in this family. I’d better go down and see what he thinks he’s doing.”
She stepped quickly around me, and bustled off down the stairs. The moment Marion was out of the way, Catherine knocked loudly on Wendy’s door and called her name, but there was no response. She tried the handle, but the door was locked. Penny looked at me.
“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” she said quietly. “Doesn’t it remind you of when Marion banged on Lucas’ door, and didn’t get an answer because he wasn’t there?”
I nodded. “There’s no way this is going to end well.”
“Of course not,” said Penny. “We’re in Glenbury Hall.”
I took Catherine by the shoulders and urged her gently but firmly to one side. I unlocked the door with my pass key, and pushed it open. Catherine all but elbowed me out of the way and rushed into the room, calling out to Wendy. Penny and I went in after her.
The room was empty. Catherine’s voice trailed away, as it became clear no one was going to answer her. I looked around and pointed out Wendy’s door key, lying on a side table by the door.
“She must have dropped it there when she came in,” I said.
“At least we can be sure she did come in here,” said Penny. “But she couldn’t have come out again, because she would have needed that key to lock the door behind her, after she left.”
“Then how did she leave?” I said. “There isn’t any other door.”
“Maybe she jumped out the window, to get away from something,” said Penny.
“First, the window is closed,” I said. “And second, we were out in the grounds. Even with everything that was going on, I think we would have noticed a falling historian.”
Penny scowled. “I hate locked room mysteries.”
We broke off, as Catherine tugged at my sleeve imploringly. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and lost.
“Wendy has to be in here somewhere...”
“I really don’t think so, Catherine,” I said.
She sat down suddenly on the side of the bed, as though all the strength had gone out of her. Penny and I moved quickly round the room, looking inside the wardrobe and behind all of the furniture. I even checked underneath the bed. The search didn’t take long, and when it was over there was no trace of Wendy anywhere. I looked to Catherine, and shook my head. Her shoulders slumped, as though I’d taken away her last hope. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged, as though she was trying to frame a question but didn’t know what to say. Penny and I moved a little away, so we could talk quietly.
“Another disappearance,” I said.
“Just like Lucas,” said Penny.
“What could have mattered so much to Wendy, that she would abandon her friend and rush up here?” I said. “Did she see something in the lobby, that made her believe someone might be messing with her things? And what could she have had in here, that anyone would want?”
“I’m not seeing her suitcase anywhere,” said Penny. “The one that was supposed to have historical evidence in it.”
“If it was here, I would have seen it,” I said.
“This is following the same pattern as Lucas,” said Penny. “Someone disappears under mysterious circumstances, and their luggage goes with them. Which would suggest the two events are connected.”
“Or that someone wants us to think that,” I said.
I looked around the room again, and then stopped abruptly as I spotted something lying on the floor next to the side table. I got down on one knee, and inspected my find carefully without touching it. Penny pressed in behind me, peering over my shoulder.
“What have you got there?”
“Something interesting,” I said. I picked up the fallen cigarette butt and studied it carefully. Penny rested her chin on my shoulder, so she could look at it too.
“What is that doing here?”
“Good question,” I said.
The butt was barely an inch long. I touched the burned end.
“Cold. No telling how long it’s been here.”
“Wendy didn’t smoke,” said Penny. “Did she?”
“I never saw her smoking,” I said. “And I never smelt cigarette smoke on her clothes.”
“So this could have been dropped by whoever took Wendy,” said Penny.
“In this house, the only person who smokes cigarettes is Marion,” I said.
“And she was up here, hiding in another room when we arrived,” said Penny.
“If she was hiding, why did she come out?” I said.
“Because it would have looked bad if we found her?”
“Perhaps.”
“But if Marion was in this room,” said Penny, “how did she take Wendy, and leave the door key inside?”
“There’s something not right about this cigarette butt,” I said thoughtfully.
“What’s not right?” said Penny.
“I don’t know...”
“It’s still a clue, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” I said kindly.
I tucked the cigarette butt carefully away in my jacket pocket, and got to my feet again.
“Wendy’s gone,” said Catherine.
Penny and I turned to look at her, sitting small and crushed on the side of Wendy’s bed.
“The Hall took her,” said Catherine. “Just like it did Lucas Carr. My friend is dead.”
“We can’t be sure of that,” I said.
“I can,” said Catherine. “I wonder if she’ll come to visit me, in my room tonight...”
ChaPter EigHt
The Body of Evidence
Penny sat down on the bed beside Catherine and put a comforting hand on her arm, but Catherine barely seemed to know she was there. Her eyes stared off into the distance, and whatever she was feeling she didn’t feel like sharing.
I looked around the room, pleasantly lit by the sunshine pouring in through the window. And it occurred to me to wonder why both Lucas and Wendy had disappeared in broad daylight, rather than at night when everyone was affected by the spooky atmosphere. Did the disappearances have nothing to do with how the house made people feel?
I frowned as I concentrated on the problem. Why did Wendy have to disappear now? Had something significant changed between last night and this morning, that made it necessary for her to disappear? The only thing that had happened so far was the shared breakfast. Had Wendy done or said anything unusual? I thought back and remembered Wendy saying she had an idea as to what was really going on, and who was behind it. I nodded slowly. If I’d noticed that, someone else could have too, and taken it seriously enough that they thought they needed to remove Wendy before she could share her ideas.
Next problem: who would Wendy have invited to join her, in her room? It couldn’t have been Catherine, because she was out in the grounds with Penny and me, so that just left Arthur, Marion, and Ellen. Unless there really was some other, unknown, person scurrying around the house.
The audio recreation of the timeslip, and the falling gargoyle, could have been intended to keep Penny and me occupied while the killer went after Wendy. But whoever was responsible must have been running around like a mad thing, activating the recording, forcing the gargoyle off the roof, separating Wendy from Catherine, and then attacking her in her room...
My head came up, as I smelled something new on the air. I turned around and stared directly at Ellen, catching her by surprise as she stood in the open doorway. The teenager had a hand raised to knock on the open door, but lowered it awkwardly as I looked at her.
“Can I help you with something?” I said.
“I heard someone banging on a door, and people yelling,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“You heard us?” I said. “Even past your headphones?”
She did her best to look down her nose at me. “I’m not always listening to my music.”
I looked at her thoughtfully. “Did you hear Wendy come up the stairs, just now? And go into her room?”
“I heard someone,” said Ellen.
“Did you hear anyone else?”
“Just my mother, moving about. She’s been working up here for some time. And then a whole bunch of people came charging up the stairs...”
“Did you hear your mother come into this room, and talk to Wendy?” I said.
Ellen shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention. I was busy.”
“How long have you been smoking cigarettes, Ellen?”
Her jaw actually dropped a little. “How did you know about that?”
“I can smell the cigarette smoke on your clothes,” I said.
Ellen pouted unhappily. “All right...I picked up the habit from my mother, back in London. I sometimes sneak the odd cigarette from her pack, when I’m feeling a bit stressed. Please don’t tell her. She’s got enough to worry about.”
“It’s none of my business,” I said.
“Then why did you bring it up?”
“Just being nosey,” I said.
Ellen could have dropped the cigarette butt I’d found in Wendy’s room...but why would Wendy let her in? It wasn’t like they were close. I wasn’t sure I’d heard them exchange a dozen words. I was also having trouble seeing Ellen overpower a woman who’d boasted about her self-defence skills. No. The only way this made sense was if Wendy trusted her attacker enough to turn her back on them.
Ellen cleared her throat meaningfully, and I realised I was still staring at her.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was thinking.”
“You haven’t explained what’s going on here,” said Ellen, just a bit accusingly.
“Wendy has gone missing,” I said.
Ellen’s eyes widened. “She’s been killed? Like Lucas Carr?”
“We don’t know that she’s dead,” I said. “And keep your voice down. Catherine is feeling rather upset.”
“But Wendy really could be dead?” said Ellen, still not lowering her voice. Or sounding particularly upset.
“It’s a possibility,” I said. “All we can be certain about is that Wendy isn’t where she was supposed to be. Still, now you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful.”
Ellen immediately stopped being interested, and dropped back into her default sullen and put upon look. “I don’t do useful. I’m a teenager. I’m excused.”
“Not by me, you’re not,” I said. “I need you to escort Catherine downstairs, so your parents can look after her while Penny and I finishing searching the room.”
“Oh,” said Ellen. “Well...I can do that. I suppose.”
I took her over to where Catherine was sitting slumped on the bed with Penny. Catherine didn’t even look up as Ellen and I stood in front of her.
“Ellen’s going to take you downstairs now, Catherine,” I said.
“I can’t leave,” she said quietly. “Wendy might come back.”
“I thought she was dead?” said Ellen. She looked at me accusingly. “You told me she was dead!”
“Don’t you know by now, that doesn’t mean anything in Glenbury Hall?” said Catherine. Animation returned to her face as she stared coldly at Ellen, who had the grace to look a little abashed. “Nothing is ever lost in this house. Everything comes back. I let Lucas down last night, when his spirit returned to me. I won’t make the same mistake with Wendy.”
“I don’t think what you saw in your room last night was Lucas,” I said. “And we don’t know for sure yet that Wendy is dead. She might just have been taken, and in need of rescuing.”
Catherine looked at me, her face showing the beginnings of hope, but it didn’t last. She didn’t believe me. Her shoulders slumped again and she stared at the floor, as though the world had become too much to deal with. Penny looked at me over Catherine’s lowered head, and put her arm across Catherine’s shoulders.
“You need to tell Arthur that he’s lost another of his guests. He’ll take it better, coming from you.”
Catherine nodded, and made an effort to pull herself together. “Of course. You’re quite right. Arthur needs to know that there’s a new ghost in Glenbury Hall.”
She got to her feet, ignoring Ellen’s offered hand, and walked steadily out of the room. Ellen looked at Penny and me, shrugged, and hurried after Catherine. I listened as they descended the stairs, not speaking to each other, and then turned to Penny. I started to say something, but stopped suddenly as an idea occurred to me. I took out the cigarette butt, and studied it carefully.
“What are you looking for?” said Penny. “Fingerprints? DNA evidence?”
“My eyes aren’t that good,” I said.
Penny looked carefully at the stub, and then at me.
“Have you just deduced something, Ishmael?”
“Do you know, I think I have,” I said. “This is a clue, after all. Just not the one I thought it was.”
“Is there something unusual about the cigarette?” said Penny. “Have you recognised it as some rare foreign brand?”
“It’s more what isn’t there, that should be,” I said.
“Don’t start that again,” said Penny. “Are you going to tell me what you’ve found, or not?”
“Not for the moment,” I said. “I need to think about this some more.”
“How am I supposed to help, if I don’t have all the facts?”
“It’s not a fact,” I said. “Just the beginnings of a theory.”
Penny nodded reluctantly. She knew I hated discussing my ideas until I was sure I had them pinned down. If only because some of the ideas I come up with can be so off the wall they’d made me look really dumb if I shared them. I put the cigarette butt back in my pocket.
“So!” Penny said brightly. “Do you want some help dismantling this room, until we find a secret door or a sliding panel?”
I looked at her. “You think there is one?”
“How else could someone have got Wendy out of a room locked from the inside?” said Penny.
“The search can wait,” I said. “Right now, while Arthur and Marion are preoccupied with Catherine and Ellen, we are going up to the roof.”
Penny frowned. “Because someone threw a gargoyle at us?”
“Because there has to be an access point somewhere on the top floor,” I said. “Once we’re on the roof, we should be able to spot the hidden entrance. And that should help us locate some of the others.”
“How are we supposed to get to the roof?” said Penny. “I shouldn’t think there’s a ladder long enough anywhere in the Hall.”
“We don’t need a ladder,” I said cheerfully. “Arthur already told us how to get up there.”
Penny thought for a moment, and then her eyebrows shot up as she remembered.
“Wait just a minute! I am not climbing out of any top-floor window! I am a solver of mysteries, not a mountaineer!”
“Come on, Penny,” I said persuasively. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I left it in the car,” said Penny. “Tell you what: you go on up to the roof, while I go back to the Bentley and look for it.”
I went over to the window. It opened easily, and I placed my hands on the thick wooden windowsill, bracing myself as I leaned right out so I could get a good look at the grounds. Once again Penny moved quickly in behind me and took a firm hold on my belt with both hands. I leaned out even further, and Penny grunted loudly.
“You are putting on weight.”
“Think of it as a compliment to your cooking.”
“I’m not that good a cook,” said Penny.
“I don’t think I’m going to say anything.”
“Very wise.”
The grounds stretched away before me, open and unoccupied. The statues ignored me, and I returned the compliment. I twisted around, ignoring some strained sounds from Penny as she took on more of my weight, and looked up. There was no gable on this window, so I had a clear view to the edge of the roof. It wasn’t that far, and the old-fashioned black iron guttering looked to be well within reach. And straight above us was the wide gap left by the departure of the gargoyle. I smiled slowly, as I saw how easily the thing could be done.
