Haunted by the Past, page 9
part #11 of Ismael Jones Series
“But have you ever seen any evidence to support these stories?” I said.
Catherine shook her head regretfully. “I have been in every room in this house, at one time or another, and I’ve never seen anything out of the ordinary. But you can’t disregard the sheer number of people who swear they’ve seen things in Glenbury Hall.”
“There are many ways in which things can be made to appear and disappear,” I said. “Old houses like this one are often lousy with secret doors and hidden rooms.”
“I asked Paul and Mary about that, back in the day,” said Catherine. “They both seemed very sure that there weren’t any.”
“And of course, they would never lie to you,” I said.
“They were my friends,” said Catherine. “And Arthur spent ages banging on the walls when he was a child and never found anything. Remember, the usual reason for a hidden room was to serve as a priest hole, to conceal Catholic worship. But the Glenburys were always fiercely Protestant.”
I stared down the corridor ahead of us, at all the doors still waiting to be investigated.
“How many rooms are there, on the ground floor?”
“Twenty-seven,” Catherine said immediately.
“And does every room come with its own individual ghost story?” said Penny.
Catherine smiled. “It does feel that way, sometimes. Do you believe in ghosts, dear?”
Penny looked at me. “You want to field that one?”
“I try to keep an open mind,” I said.
“Oh no,” Catherine said solemnly. “You don’t want to do that, dear. You can never be sure what might walk in.”
“They’d get a shock if they saw what’s inside my head,” I said.
“Why are you so fascinated by ghosts, Catherine?” Penny said quickly.
“I was a product of the seventies, that most haunted of decades,” Catherine said proudly. “When there were all kinds of spooky shows on television, and supernatural events turned up regularly on the local news. I still remember watching reports about haunted stone heads, poltergeists in council houses, and the Beast of Brassknocker Hill...”
Penny and I looked at each other. We didn’t say anything, but Catherine caught something in the look.
“You know about that?”
“We had an experience, on Brassknocker Hill,” I said.
“Nothing to do with the Beast, though,” said Penny.
Catherine waited for a moment, until it became clear we had nothing more to say on the subject. She presented us with another of her loud sniffs and continued her tour of the ground floor.
“It all comes down to what you believe ghosts are,” she said over her shoulder, as we hurried after her. “The unquiet dead, condemned to walk the Earth, or simply past events, endlessly repeating. There’s no doubt some Glenburys did things in the Hall that were so vile they stained the atmosphere forever.”
“What do you think people see here?” said Penny.
“I’ve always said I’ll make up my mind after I meet a ghost,” said Catherine. “If there is anything in this house, I am determined to come face to face with it before I leave.”
“That’s the spirit,” I said. “But please remember, we are here to discover what happened to Lucas Carr. That takes precedence over everything else.”
“Well of course, dear,” said Catherine. “But I feel I should remind you, an awful lot of people have come to the Hall, looking for answers to all kinds of questions...only to be bitterly disappointed. No one has ever found any of the people who’ve been reported as missing. The Hall holds its secrets close to its chest, and its mysteries remain mysteries.”
“The Hall never met anyone like me,” I said.
We completed our little excursion without uncovering anything useful and returned to the lobby. It was still empty. I went over to the reception desk and banged on the old-fashioned brass bell with my fist, and then called out for Arthur or Marion, but there was no response.
“Where is everybody?” said Penny.
“Oh, I’m sure they have lots of work to be getting on with,” said Catherine.
“More likely they’re hiding from us,” I said.
Catherine raised an eyebrow. “Why would they want to do that?”
I smiled briefly. “When we find them, I’ll ask them.”
“First rule of investigating a mystery,” Penny said brightly. “Everyone has secrets.”
“And everyone lies about them,” I said.
“That’s two rules,” said Catherine.
“And that’s just the start,” said Penny. “If it was easy, everybody would be doing it.”
I checked out the route from the reception desk to the foot of the staircase. There were no obvious signs of violence. I knelt down, put my face right next to the floorboards and had a good sniff. Traces of a dozen different scents filled my head, most of them to do with cleaning products. I studied the floorboards carefully, with my better than average eyes, but couldn’t make out the faintest remnant of a blood spot. There was nothing to indicate that any kind of struggle had taken place. Whatever had happened, it hadn’t happened here.
I realised Catherine was watching me closely and sighed quietly. You’d think that after all these years, I’d be better at hiding my true nature from innocent bystanders. But sometimes a weird situation can’t help but bring out the weird in me.
The starship’s transformation machines were only supposed to make me human, but given my superior strength and speed, and sharper senses, I couldn’t help wondering whether the machines had taken advantage of the situation to try for a few improvements on the basic model. Not that I had any reason to complain. It isn’t just my outsider’s viewpoint that helps me solve mysteries.
I got to my feet again and looked back at Penny and Catherine.
“I’m not picking up any trace of blood, or death.”
Catherine gave me a hard look, and then turned to Penny.
“He’s part bloodhound,” Penny said solemnly.
“Really, dear?” said Catherine. “Which part?”
They both got the giggles. I gave them a pained look and moved to the foot of the stairs. Penny and Catherine followed on behind, doing their best to smother their laughter.
“This is quite definitely the only way to get from the ground floor to the top,” said Catherine. “Mr. Carr had to have gone this way, to get to his room.”
I started up the bare wooden steps, with Penny and Catherine sticking close behind me. The sound of our footsteps on the uncovered floorboards was loud and carrying. Halfway up the stairs I came to a sudden halt, and the others almost bumped into me.
“Arthur was right,” I said. “There’s no way he could have missed hearing sounds like these. If he was where he said he was.”
“You can trust Arthur!” said Catherine, sounding shocked that I could even think otherwise.
“Ishmael doesn’t trust anyone,” said Penny. “Except for me, of course.”
I took off my shoes and continued up the stairs in my socks. The boards still creaked loudly under my weight.
“I should put those shoes back on, dear,” said Catherine. “There are bound to be splinters...”
I slipped into my shoes and led the way to the top of the stairs. A long passageway stretched away before us, disappearing into an unrelieved gloom. Catherine went straight to the main light switch, but the bulbs were so few and far between they left more in shadows than they illuminated. It was so quiet I could almost hear the dust falling.
“I’ll take the lead again, shall I?” said Catherine. “I know the territory.”
“More ghost stories?” said Penny.
“Oh, loads and loads!” Catherine said cheerfully.
We followed her down the passageway as she chattered happily away. Paintings still covered most of the walls, and Catherine had a story for all of them. It made a change from the spook stuff, though strictly speaking she was still talking about the dead.
Most of the portraits were so stylised as to be basically anonymous. Only the differing outfits marked the passing of time. But Catherine could still put a name and a potted history to most of them. This one was a bad lad, and came to a bad end. That one should never have married into the Glenburys, should never have poisoned her husband, and certainly shouldn’t have been caught so easily. This one went missing, and this one. And that one was sent abroad because he went too far, even for the Glenburys.
“Jacob was what they used to call a Remittance Man,” said Catherine, pausing before a particularly saturnine face. “Paid regular sums by the family, as long as he promised never to return to England.”
“What did he do that was so bad, even the Glenburys were ready to disown him?” said Penny.
“He got found out,” said Catherine. “I gather there was some disquiet over what Jacob might say about the rest of the family if he was ever brought to Court. Sending him abroad seemed the safest option for everyone. Except for the people abroad, of course.”
The portraits gave way to hunting scenes, mostly from the naïve school. Nothing too realistic, and given the sheer number of disembowelled deer involved, that was probably for the best. They made me think of all the stuffed animal heads at The Smugglers Retreat.
“Why was everyone around here so keen on killing things?” said Penny.
“Tradition,” said Catherine. “Sport...And of course the Glenburys always took a special pride in savouring the kind of pleasures other people didn’t or couldn’t.”
There were even a few paintings of glowing skeletons on horseback, riding hell for leather across a moonlit scene.
“I saw a similar image outside The Smugglers Retreat,” I said.
“For a long time, this was serious smuggling country,” said Catherine. “And the smugglers would go to great lengths to scare the locals away from their special routes. Because the Revenue Men would pay good money for that kind of information.”
“Were the Glenburys involved in smuggling?” said Penny.
“I don’t know about involved,” said Catherine, “but you can bet they were regular customers. The Glenburys always had to have the best of everything.”
We pressed on, our footsteps sounding out loud and clear, as though to warn any ghosts we were on our way. I made a point of at least glancing inside every room. Penny suddenly shuddered, as though troubled by a cold breeze. Catherine shot her a knowing look.
“You feel it too? Everyone does, who stays in the Hall long enough. That pressure of unseen eyes...Even back in my partying days, we all preferred to go back to our own homes once the fun started winding down. Paul and Mary had bedrooms to spare, but everyone always had an excuse.”
“Weren’t Paul and Mary bothered by the atmosphere?” I said.
“No. They laughed at us. But then, they grew up here.”
“Where do you think the feeling comes from?” said Penny.
“The past is always with you, in Glenbury Hall,” said Catherine. “Often right behind you and peering over your shoulder.”
I suppressed an urge to look behind me, and we moved on. I still wasn’t seeing anything strange, or out of the ordinary. Just a whole bunch of antique furniture, battered and scratched and in need of a good dusting. And the wall panelling wasn’t much better. The whole of the top floor looked like someone’s forgotten attic.
“Arthur and Marion haven’t made make much of an effort here,” said Penny. “They could have spruced the place up a bit, for their first visitors.”
“Catch-22, I’m afraid,” said Catherine. “Renovation costs money, but they can only get money from visitors. They cleaned and polished those areas near to where the Historical Society would be staying and left the rest for later. Besides, a lot of the time this is what people like that would want to see in old houses. The patina of the past.”
We reached the end of the floor without finding anything useful, turned around and made our way back to the top of the stairs. I asked Catherine which room belonged to Arthur and Marion, and she pointed to the first of a row of doors near the top of the stairs. The door wasn’t locked, so I pushed it open, and we looked in. An ordinary, modern, and perfectly comfortable room. Ellen’s was next door, and seemed much the same, with the addition of a great many posters displaying scowling rap artists I didn’t recognise.
“No wonder Marion insisted Ellen use her headphones,” I said. “Not exactly suitable background music, when you’re expecting a dozen historical scholars.”
“The whole point of young people’s music is that it doesn’t appeal to anyone else,” Catherine said wisely. “I was a huge Hawkwind fan, when I was her age.”
I closed the door carefully.
“It’s still hard to believe Ellen didn’t hear anything when Lucas disappeared,” said Penny.
“Maybe there wasn’t anything to hear,” I said.
“Or she wasn’t where she said she was,” said Penny. “In fact, why isn’t Ellen in her room now? Her mother said she had homework.”
“They’re probably having a family meeting,” I said. “So they can get their stories straight.”
Catherine shook her head. “How can anyone be so cynical?”
“Years of experience,” I said. “Where were the Historical Society supposed to be staying?”
Catherine pointed out half a dozen doors, next to the Glenburys’ rooms.
“How do you know all this?” said Penny. “I thought you hadn’t been inside the Hall in ages?”
“I consulted over the renovations, after Arthur brought his family back here,” said Catherine. “I was quite touched when he reached out to me. We’d drifted apart. Just Christmas cards, and the like.”
“Did you approve, when he said he was coming back?” I said. “You said you didn’t like the look of the abandoned Hall.”
“It’s wasn’t my place to approve or disapprove,” said Catherine.
“But did you try to talk him out of it?” said Penny. “You were his aunt, in all but name. He must have valued your opinion.”
Catherine took her time before she answered. “I told him I thought it would be wrong to let the Hall fall into ruin. It’s an important historical building. And I did point out that by opening the Hall to visitors, he could probably make a good living from it. But in the end, I think he was more persuaded by his wife. Which is of course as it should be.”
“Hold it,” said Penny. “You only pointed out six rooms, but Marion said they had twelve members of the Society booked in.”
Catherine had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Arthur couldn’t afford to modernise more than six rooms, so he told the visitors they’d have to double up. They didn’t seem to mind. They were so keen to finally get inside Glenbury Hall, I think they would have slept in hammocks in the kitchen if that was what it took.”
The door to the first guest room was locked, but I opened it with the pass key, and we looked in. The room seemed cheerful enough, though dominated by a large double bed.
“There you are,” said Catherine. “Easily big enough to sleep two.”
“I think this room will do for us,” I said to Penny.
Catherine looked at me sharply. “You’re staying overnight?”
“Penny and I aren’t going anywhere until we find out what happened to Lucas Carr,” I said.
Catherine smiled suddenly. “Me too!”
“You’re staying the night as well?” said Penny.
“Of course,” said Catherine. “You’re going to need my expertise, if you’re planning on searching this house from top to bottom.”
“But you never wanted to stay overnight, back in your partying days,” I said.
“That was then,” said Catherine. “This is now.”
“Do you still want to see a ghost?” said Penny.
“Oh yes!” said Catherine. “If only because there are so many questions I could ask it, about the history of the Hall.”
I got the feeling any sensible ghost would run a mile, faced with Catherine’s determined interrogation, but I didn’t say anything. I locked the door again.
“Are all the rooms the same?” said Penny.
“As far as I know,” said Catherine.
I was ready to start back down the stairs, when my attention was caught by an old-fashioned grandfather clock standing on its own.
“Catherine, why isn’t that clock working?”
She stared at me. “How do you know it isn’t?”
“Because it’s not ticking.”
“You must have really good hearing,” said Catherine. “But you’re quite right. That clock hasn’t worked since eighteen eighty-eight. Something bad happened, right here, and that clock was the only witness.”
“Then how do you know something bad happened?” said Penny.
“Because Jacob wouldn’t stop boasting about it, dear. Right up to the point when they sent him abroad.”
“What happened to him?” I said.
“Oh, he died, dear. Very suddenly, right after he disembarked from the ship. No one in the family seemed at all surprised.”
“So not every Glenbury got away with it?” I said.
“The family did find it necessary to throw a few particularly rotten apples to the wolves, now and again,” said Catherine.
“Why did no one ever get this clock fixed?” I said.
“Oh, they did, dear. Many times,” said Catherine. “There’s nothing wrong with the mechanism. The clock just refuses to work. Some say it’s still in shock.”
“This house is seriously weird,” said Penny.
Catherine beamed at her. “You have no idea...”
And then we all looked round sharply, as we heard raised voices down below. I hit the stairs running, leaving the others to catch up.
ChaPter Four
New and Old Secrets
The arguing voices grew even louder as I raced down the stairs, with Penny in close pursuit. Somebody in reception was giving the Glenburys a really hard time. When we finally reached the bottom of the stairs, I could see Arthur and Marion standing behind the desk, and so close together they were practically on top of each other.
