Haunted by the Past, page 5
part #11 of Ismael Jones Series
“We keep it here, for when it’s needed,” said Arthur, indicating the wall behind him.
“Where anyone could get at it,” said Penny.
Marion let that one pass, determined to continue with her account of what had happened.
“Arthur and I went back upstairs.”
“Why both of you?” I said.
“I felt I should be with her,” said Arthur. “I was starting to get a bad feeling...”
“I wanted him with me,” Marion said sharply. “As a witness, in case Mr. Carr might have fallen, or injured himself. You have to be careful, these days. It’s a litigious world.”
“Marion unlocked the door, and we went in,” said Arthur. “Mr. Carr was nowhere to be seen. Neither were his suitcases. There was nothing to indicate he’d ever been in the room.”
“We weren’t sure what to do,” said Marion. She was frowning now, as she relived the moment. “I mean, Arthur had seen him go up the stairs, so he had to be there, somewhere. We checked all the other rooms just in case Arthur had given him the wrong key, and then we went back down and searched the ground floor.”
“Even though he couldn’t have been there,” said Arthur. “Because I would have seen him come down the stairs. We even went outside and looked round the grounds. There was no trace of him anywhere.”
“What about his car?” said Penny. “We didn’t see any other vehicle parked outside, when we arrived.”
“Mr. Carr arrived by taxi,” said Arthur. “The nearest railway station is in Marshford, the next town over.”
He stopped, to take a deep breath. His hands were shaking. Marion moved in a little closer and Arthur seemed to settle, reassured by her proximity.
“I called the police and reported Mr. Carr missing,” Marion said flatly. “At first, they didn’t want to take the matter seriously, and just made stupid jokes about the Hall’s history. I had to be very firm with them before they would even agree to send someone out. An hour or more went by, and there was still no sign of them. Arthur was in a real state. Finally, we got a call from the police station, saying they had relinquished the case to a higher authority, so it was nothing to do with them anymore. They sounded quite relieved, that they wouldn’t have to come out to the Hall.”
“Even after all these years,” said Arthur. “Everyone around here is still scared spitless of Glenbury Hall.”
“Not long after, we got a call from Mr. Carr’s employers,” said Marion, cutting in quickly. “Assuring us that they would be sending us some special experts to investigate the situation and determine exactly what had happened to Mr. Carr.”
She paused to look down her nose, first at me and then at Penny. Apparently we didn’t impress her as experts.
“We have a lot of experience,” I said. “When it comes to getting at the truth.”
“Really,” said Marion. It wasn’t precisely a question, more an expression of polite disbelief.
“Oh, lots and lots of experience,” Penny said airily. “You wouldn’t believe some of the cases we’ve investigated.”
I nodded solemnly. “And we are very good at finding things that have gone missing. Whether they want to be found or not.”
Marion looked like she was about to say something sharp, but Arthur spotted the danger signs and got in first.
“We’re very pleased that you’re here,” he said firmly. “We’ve both been very worried, about what could have happened to Mr. Carr. It’s like something just reached out and took him, before he could get to his room.”
He made the suggestion quite casually, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. I felt a cold breeze caress the back of my neck, and Penny moved a little closer to me. Marion looked at Arthur, but for once didn’t have anything to say. Arthur just carried on with his story.
“Those stairs are the only way to get to the next floor. Mr. Carr couldn’t have come back down again without me being aware of it.”
“Are you sure you didn’t leave reception, even for just a few moments?” Penny said tactfully. “To take a look outside, to check out a noise, or just to pop off to the toilet?”
“No,” said Arthur. He sounded very firm, and very definite. “I had a lot of paperwork to do. I never left the desk once.”
“And there was no way he could have sneaked past you?” I said.
“Absolutely not,” said Arthur, his voice rising in spite of himself. Marion put a hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off without even glancing at her. “Look at the stairs! Those are solid wooden steps. No carpeting. I would have heard him coming down long before I saw him. And I didn’t.”
“And why would he want to sneak out anyway?” said Marion, unable to hold herself back any longer. “Where would he go? We’re miles from anywhere, and he had no transport. And if he is out there, somewhere, why hasn’t he contacted anyone?”
“Those are all good questions,” I said. “What about the Hall’s security? Do you have any surveillance cameras?”
Marion didn’t look at Arthur, but I could see the effort that took. “We made a decision not to have any. They would have detracted from the old-time ambience. Which is, after all, what we’re selling.”
“Do you still have the small suitcase that Carr left at reception?” I said.
“Of course,” said Arthur. “It’s right here.”
I waited a moment, and then smiled at him politely. “Could we see it, please?”
“Of course,” said Arthur.
He reached down and produced a perfectly ordinary case. He laid it down on top of the desk and pushed it toward me, in a way that suggested it was now my responsibility and nothing to do with him. The case opened easily, but all it contained was a number of oversized and well-thumbed history books.
“I already looked through them,” said Marion. “They’re nothing special. Just books about the Hall, and Lord Ravensbrook.”
I ran my hands around the interior of the case, checking for hidden panels or a false bottom where something might have been concealed, but there was nothing. I leafed quickly through the books, but all I could see was a lot of dense text interspersed with illustrations from the past. I put the books back in the case and closed it.
“I’m surprised there aren’t any papers,” I said. “Carr was supposed to be making a speech to his fellow enthusiasts in the Historical Society.”
“What you saw is all there was,” Marion said firmly.
I pushed the case back to Arthur, and he put it behind the desk again.
“Maybe Carr kept all his important papers in the two big suitcases,” I said. “And that’s why he made such a point of hanging on to them.”
“But would he really have taken them with him, when he went wherever he went?” said Penny. “Given how heavy they were?”
“He might have refused to be separated from them,” I said. “Even if he was being taken somewhere against his will.”
Marion stared at me. “You think he could have been kidnapped?”
Arthur seemed genuinely surprised by the idea. “Why would anybody want to do that?”
Marion looked at him pityingly. “Because his job has security connections, remember? That is why these people are here.”
“No one else arrived at the Hall this morning,” said Arthur. “I would have noticed.”
And then we all looked round sharply, as heavy footsteps descended the wooden stairs. Arthur had been right; each separate step sounded out loud and distinct, echoing through the lobby like gunshots. Arthur couldn’t resist shooting me a quick I told you so look.
A teenage girl hurried down into the lobby, and then stomped over to join us. Tall and more than fashionably thin, she had café au lait skin, close-cropped hair, and dark serious eyes. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen, and wore distressed jeans, a blank white T-shirt, and sneakers that looked like their owner had taken through an assault course. She wasn’t wearing any makeup or jewellery, either because she couldn’t be bothered, or because she didn’t think there was anyone around worth putting on a show for. She slammed to a halt in front of Penny and me, and glowered at us suspiciously.
“I heard voices. What’s going on?”
“This is my daughter, Ellen,” Marion said quickly. “And there is nothing going on here that need concern you, dear. Go on back to your room, please. I’ll tell you all about it later.”
Ellen ignored her mother. She gave every appearance of being a typical teenager, convinced everything in the world only happened to annoy and inconvenience her.
“Is it true?” she said, not even glancing at her parents. “Has someone really vanished into thin air? That’s amazing!”
“Really?” I said politely.
“It’s the first interesting thing that’s happened since my parents abducted me from London and dragged me out here to the back of beyond,” said Ellen. “Just so we could move into this creepy old house, miles from civilisation and all my friends.”
“Now, Ellen, we talked about this,” said Marion. “We all had to give up things, to come here.”
Ellen continued to ignore her. She looked Penny over and dismissed her as just another adult, before deciding she might get more out of me.
“Do you think he was murdered?”
“Ellen, really!” said Arthur. He tried to smile at me, to show how ridiculous such an idea was, but couldn’t quite manage it. “The things you say, sweetie....There’s no evidence that Mr. Carr has come to any harm.”
“Of course not,” said Marion. She looked like she wanted to laugh lightly, but wasn’t sure she could bring it off. “The very idea! I really don’t think you should mention this to anyone else, dear. That kind of gossip could ruin our business before it’s even got off the ground.”
Ellen looked at her for the first time. “Who could I talk to? I don’t know anybody here!”
I studied her thoughtfully. “Were you at the Hall when Mr. Carr arrived this morning?”
“I was upstairs in my room,” said Ellen. “Listening to music on my headphones. Mother insists on the headphones. She thinks my taste in music would upset the guests.”
“Did you hear Mr. Carr walk up the stairs?” said Penny.
She shrugged. “I like my music loud.”
“You heard us talking down here,” I said.
She scowled at me. “I’d taken the headphones off. I don’t wear them all the time.”
I turned back to Marion and Arthur. “Is there anyone else present in the Hall, that you haven’t got around to telling us about?”
“I didn’t mention my daughter because I didn’t think her being here was relevant,” said Marion. “She didn’t see or hear anything.”
“There’s just the three of us,” said Arthur. “We don’t have any staff.”
“The locals won’t work here at any price,” said Marion. “And it’s not for want of us reaching out to the community.” She shot Arthur another hard look, as though it was all his fault. “We have advertised for outside people, but so far no one wants to make the long journey for what we can afford to pay. I’m sure things will improve once we’ve got the business on a stable footing.”
“To be fair,” said Arthur. “Glenbury Hall does have a reputation...”
“Ghost stories!” Marion said scornfully.
“We talked about this, dear,” Arthur said carefully. “The stories are already out there, so we might as well make use of them. They add to the ambience...catch people’s attention and make them want to come here.”
“Do you believe in ghosts?” I said.
Arthur surprised me then, by answering quite offhandedly. “Oh yes. I grew up in this house, and as a child I saw and heard all sorts of things I’ve never been able to explain.”
Marion’s voice actually softened as she looked at her husband. “I put a lot of that down to your parents, dear. The way they treated you...” She broke off abruptly and turned back to me and Penny. “I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary, in all the time I’ve been here. But then I never believed in ghosts, or any of that supernatural nonsense. I’ll go along with the stories as long as they’re good for business, but that is as far as I go.”
I looked at Ellen, and for the first time she wouldn’t meet my gaze. Her eyes dropped to the floor, and her voice was just a murmur.
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” she said. “But I’m still scared of them.”
Something in the way she said that made everyone look at her, but she had nothing more to say. Her shoulders had slumped, and she seemed to have shrunk in on herself. I turned back to Arthur and Marion and had to clear my throat loudly to get their attention again.
“How many doors are there, giving access to the Hall?”
“Just the two,” said Arthur. “The front door you came in through, and the back door on the far side of the house.”
“I know you were watching the front door from your desk,” said Penny, “but is there any way Mr. Carr could have got past you, and sneaked out the back?”
“I don’t see how,” said Arthur.
“I was out the back,” Marion said flatly. “Carr would have had to walk right past me to get to the rear door. And you need to bear in mind that every floor in this house is just bare wooden floorboards. It’s impossible to walk anywhere in the Hall and not be heard. I wanted to put down some nice carpets or a few tasteful rugs, but apparently that would have been out of character.”
She shot Arthur another of her accusing looks, which he accepted with his usual long-suffering air.
I gestured at the display next to the reception desk. “Was this intended for the Historical Society people?”
“Of course,” said Arthur.
“It was my idea,” said Marion. “Arthur and I put it together, using things we found in the house. There’s all kinds of historical junk just lying around, so I thought we might as well do something useful with it.”
Arthur winced at her choice of words, but made no comment. Marion didn’t even notice as she pressed on.
“The Ravensbrook Historical Society are obsessed with a rebellion that never actually happened, but almost got its start here at the Hall. Arthur, you know all about this stuff. Walk them through it and fill in the details.”
Arthur brightened a little, as we moved into his area of expertise. He stood a little straighter and did his best to look knowledgeable.
“King Charles II was a popular king, but his successor really wasn’t. When Charles died and was replaced by the extremely Catholic James II, it made a lot of people very unhappy. Political and religious schisms sprang up all over the country, along with all sorts of people ready to take advantage of the situation.
“James Scott, the Duke of Monmouth, was Charles II’s illegitimate son. He thought he could take the throne for himself. When the Monmouth rebellion finally began, in June of sixteen eighty-five, it was known as the Pitchfork Rebellion, because his army was mainly made up of peasants, with no access to proper weapons.
“The Rebellion was brought to a swift end at the Battle of Sedgemoor, in July of sixteen eighty-five. Peasants armed with scythes and pitchforks proved no match for King James’ professional soldiers. It was a massacre. The surviving peasants ran for their lives, and Monmouth was captured, tried, and executed.
“I’m telling you all of this because it explains why Lord Ravensbrook thought he could mount his own rebellion. He came to Glenbury Hall in the Autumn of sixteen eighty-five, looking for funding to acquire enough mercenaries to form a proper army. But instead, he just disappeared into thin air.”
“Why did Ravensbrook believe he would find support here?” I said.
“The Glenburys were distant cousins to Lord Ravensbrook,” said Arthur. “And the head of the family at that time was said by some to be the lord’s illegitimate son.”
“But what did Ravensbrook have, that the Glenburys didn’t?” said Penny. “Why would they need him to lead the rebellion?”
“Ravensbrook had a legitimate, if distant, claim to the Throne,” said Arthur, “while the Glenburys were a widely hated and reviled family. None of them would have been allowed anywhere near the Throne.”
“What did they do, that was so bad?” said Penny.
“Name a crime, and you could find some member of the family who’d been accused of it,” Arthur said steadily. “It was believed by pretty much everyone that the entire family were devil-worshippers, and had been for generations. That they had called up things from the Pit, and made terrible deals with them, in return for wealth and protection. They were also supposed to have some unnatural source of power, linked to the old well. Born of ritual sacrifice, and the murder of innocents. There were all kinds of reasons for people to go missing, around Glenbury Hall.
“Not that anything was ever proved.
“Now, Lord Ravensbrook was seen to enter Glenbury Hall, but he never came out again. The family swore none of them ever saw him, and of course, there have always been weird stories about the Hall.”
“What kind of stories?” said Ellen, looking at her father with new interest. He smiled at her.
“The original Glenburys were supposed to have summoned up a demon from the Pit and imprisoned it underneath the Hall. Something that had to be fed regularly, to keep it quiet...”
“And that’s what people thought had happened to Lord Ravensbrook?” I said.
“Only the local people,” said Arthur. “Everyone else believed the king had got wind of the meeting and sent his agents in ahead of Ravensbrook.”
“But why make it look like Ravensbrook had disappeared?” said Penny. “Why not just execute him as a traitor, like Monmouth?”
“Because Ravensbrook had friends at Court,” Arthur said patiently. “By making it seem as though the infamous Glenbury Hall had taken another victim, there was no evidence to point at the king.”
“You know an awful lot about this,” Penny said admiringly.
