The Shadow at Greystone Chase (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 10) Read online

  ‘Morning,’ said a voice beside her, and Angela looked round to see a woman of late middle age who had stopped likewise to admire the view from the top of the cliff. She was pushing a wheel-chair in which sat another woman, as far as Angela could judge from the number of scarves, shawls and blankets that enveloped her.

  ‘Good morning,’ replied Angela politely.

  ‘That do you, Jemmy?’ said the woman, bending over the chair.

  The patient uttered a sound which might have indicated assent, and lifted a hand weakly to point at something. Her other hand lay useless in her lap.

  ‘No, I don’t think that’s the same boat as yesterday,’ said her companion. ‘The other one had a red stripe and a white sail, don’t you remember? This one here’s got a brown sail.’

  The woman in the wheel-chair gave what looked like a nod of the head, and slumped further down into her seat.

  ‘A fit to the brain,’ explained the first woman to Angela. ‘A stroke, they called it.’

  ‘Is she your patient?’ said Angela.

  The woman shook her head.

  ‘My sister,’ she said. ‘Took ill a month ago, she did. The doctors shake their heads but she’s not ready to go yet.’

  ‘And are you nursing her? That must be hard work.’

  ‘Not me,’ said the woman cheerfully. ‘She’s in one of these fancy nursing-homes. Ever so nice, it is. I joke to them that when she’s gone I wouldn’t mind her bed.’

  She seemed unduly good-humoured for someone whose sister was so gravely ill, and must have realized this, for she went on:

  ‘Don’t think me unfeeling, dear. Jemmy’s had a good life, all things considered. She was always a simple one—sickly too, as a child. She’s done well to get to the age she has. When she fell sick she wanted to come back here to Denborough, where she was brought up, so I thought to myself, why not? She’d been away long enough. They’re all dead now, and this used to be her home, after all. She’s being well cared for where she is, and I visit her, and take her out, and she’s as happy as she can be.’

  Here the patient shifted and coughed at something, and they looked up to see a rather striking-looking woman passing, a little dog sniffing at her heels. She was perhaps a little older than Angela, and dressed soberly in the English manner, but there was a smartness about her, and something slightly exotic that did not quite fit the place. She smiled pleasantly at the little group as she passed. Jemmy made a sound, and her sister said:

  ‘Very well, then, we’ll go that way. Not too far, mind, or I’ll have to push you a long way uphill on the way back.’

  She turned the chair with some difficulty and, with a friendly salute to Angela, continued on her way along the cliff path. Angela watched her go, then descended the steps onto the beach. Down below the cliffs gave some shelter from the wind, and Angela felt warm enough to remove her scarf. She had no idea at what time the colonel walked his dog, but he had the weather-beaten appearance of a man who spent much of his time in the open air, and so she expected he would be found frequently out and about. From her brief encounter with him the day before she judged him to be the sort who liked the company of ladies, and she hoped he would be amenable to making the acquaintance of another. She wanted to talk to him and learn more about the de Lisles. In particular she wanted to know why, if the family had not cared whether their younger son were found guilty of murder or not, Evelyn de Lisle should have died of a broken heart shortly afterwards. The two facts did not seem to fit.

  Angela walked along the beach a little way, but could not see the colonel anywhere. After a few hundred yards she spied a little cottage that was not quite on the beach, which she thought might belong to him, and stopped outside it. It was neat and trim, with a yellow-painted door, and under the doorbell was a plate that said ‘Dempster.’ Angela pressed the bell, but no-one answered—rather to her relief, since she had realized somewhat belatedly that she could think of no excuse for calling. She returned along the beach and ascended the steps. At the top she saw Mrs. Hudd, who had evidently just left the hotel, walking towards her without her acolyte Miss Atkinson. Mrs. Hudd greeted her graciously.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Angela. ‘Where is your friend today?’

  ‘Miss Atkinson unfortunately has a blister,’ replied Mrs. Hudd. ‘She walked too far the other day and practically tore the skin off her right foot, but did not help herself by continuing to walk on it yesterday when she ought to have rested it. We fear it may have gone septic, and so she is staying indoors today and keeping her foot up on my advice. She would have bandaged it up and come out if I had allowed her to.’ She lowered her voice. ‘To be perfectly truthful, Mrs. Wells, I sometimes have my doubts about her common sense, and wonder how she spent so many years in the teaching profession. But then she does play the piano rather sweetly, so I suppose that must count for something.’

  ‘I suppose it must,’ said Angela politely. ‘Then you are alone today.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mrs. Hudd. ‘Perhaps you would like to take a walk with me?’

  ‘I should be glad to,’ said Angela. Mrs. Hudd was not precisely the person she wanted to speak to, but she was obviously a gossip and so Angela hoped she might find out something useful.

  They walked along the cliff top in the opposite direction to the one Angela had taken in her walk along the beach.

  ‘You have been coming here for years, I gather,’ said Angela.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Mrs. Hudd. ‘The late Mr. Hudd and I came here when we first married and the place has associations for me now. I do believe I could never go anywhere else. The air is so healthy, don’t you think?’

  Angela, snug once more in her scarf, spoke with animation of the sharpness of the air, and the two ladies continued on their way. The cliff top now began to slope downwards gradually, until it finally disappeared and the path became a promenade. Here there was another stretch of sand which was invisible from the other beach, and the first thing Angela saw on it was an erect and portly figure coming towards them, accompanied by a black spaniel with a stick in its mouth. She suppressed a sigh of irritation, for now she was with Mrs. Hudd and would not be able to bring up the subject about which she wanted to speak to him.

  Mrs. Hudd had seen the colonel too, and raised her voice to greet him. He bowed gallantly to them, and Mrs. Hudd preened girlishly. The two of them conversed enthusiastically about the glories of the day as Angela looked on.

  ‘I’ve just been speaking to Mrs. Poynter,’ said the colonel, once the topic of the weather had been exhausted to their satisfaction. ‘She’s got rats.’

  ‘Dear me!’ said Mrs. Hudd, putting her hand to her breast in alarm.

  ‘Yes,’ said the colonel, nodding. ‘Her husband is away in Birmingham until next week, and she says she keeps hearing scrabbling sounds in the attic. That little terrier of hers is scared of its own shadow, so that’s no help. Betsy’s no good as a ratter either, poor old thing,’ he went on, bending down to pat his dog’s head affectionately, ‘or I’d offer her services. I expect it will have to be poison.’

  ‘Isn’t she afraid, all alone in the house with the rats?’ said Mrs. Hudd.

  ‘No, no, not she,’ said the colonel. ‘She’s not the namby-pamby sort. She’s made of stern stuff despite her looks.’

  ‘Oh, her looks,’ said Mrs. Hudd carelessly. ‘I don’t admire the type myself, but I can see why some might call her attractive.’

  Angela had no idea who Mrs. Poynter was, but evidently she was not a favourite of Mrs. Hudd.

  ‘Shall we turn back, Mrs. Wells, and walk with the colonel?’ said that lady now, and did so without waiting for Angela’s reply.

  They returned along the beach as far as the cliff steps and ascended them once more, then Colonel Dempster escorted them back to the hotel, where luncheon was just being served, and took his leave. Angela and Mrs. Hudd were then joined by Miss Atkinson, who was evidently chafing under her enforced inactivity, and Mrs. Hudd spent most of lunch in lecturing
her friend, who took it meekly and agreed to remain sitting for the rest of the afternoon, at least. Meanwhile, Angela amused herself by observing the relationship between the two. Mrs. Hudd seemed to be the one in charge—at least, she certainly thought so—but Angela thought she could discern a little gleam of rebellion in Miss Atkinson’s eye, which told her that here was someone who was not so easily cowed as it might appear.

  After lunch, Angela found that a letter had arrived for her. It was from Mr. Gilverson, who informed her that Mr. and Mrs. de Lisle were only too delighted to invite Mrs. Wells to come and see Greystone Chase. Business would prevent Mr. de Lisle from conducting Mrs. Wells around the place himself, but he assured her that she would be given every attention and had only to ask if there were anything she wished to know.

  ‘I don’t know why Godfrey can’t show you around in person,’ finished the letter. ‘Pure laziness on his part, I expect. It’s all rather inconvenient, of course, since the whole point of the thing was to get you an introduction to him. Still, you might at least get a sight of him or Victorine, who is a little shy and awkward but, I hope, not so much so as deliberately to avoid someone who has come with a view to purchasing her house.’

  Angela had mixed feelings on reading the letter. She had spent two days in Denborough, at best skirting around the edges of the matter, but now was the time when she must go into the lion’s den itself. She was nervous at the thought of visiting Edgar Valencourt’s family home, although she could not quite say why. She quashed the feeling, however, and set her jaw. She had made the promise, and must carry it through. She would go to Greystone Chase and find out what she could, then report back to Mr. Gilverson. If she discovered nothing then that was as far as her investigation was likely to take her, for she could hardly prowl about the place with a magnifying-glass, looking for evidence that probably did not exist. A little voice whispered in her ear that she did not want to find evidence, but she ignored it, for that line of thought led down a path she did not wish to follow.

  THE NEXT DAY Miss Atkinson’s foot was much better, and she and Mrs. Hudd decided to take a trip to Canterbury, on which Angela was invited to join them. She agreed, partly for something to do, and partly because she was keen to spend a few hours away from the chill of the seaside. The little party spent a pleasant morning touring the city, and Angela was duly impressed by the Cathedral and its bloody history. After lunch, they spent a little time wandering through the cobbled streets, and returned to the hotel in time for an early tea. The napkins were just being laid out when Mrs. Hudd looked up and said:

  ‘Who is that person?’

  Angela glanced around to see whom she was talking about, and her eyes widened in surprise as she saw a young man standing in the doorway of the dining-room, looking about him as though seeking somebody. He had the air of someone supremely at ease with himself and the world. At that moment he spotted Angela, and she distinctly saw a smirk pass across his face as he made a bee-line towards the table at which the three ladies were sitting. Angela opened her mouth to speak, but was forestalled as he bent over, kissed her on the cheek and said:

  ‘Hallo, Mother. They told me I’d find you here. You might have let me know you were planning to go away.’

  Angela was too confounded to say a word, but sat with her mouth still open.

  ‘Well, don’t just sit there with a face like a fish,’ said Freddy Pilkington-Soames, before she could find her voice. ‘It’s not like you to forget your manners.’ He turned to the other two ladies, beamed angelically and said, ‘The name’s Wells. I see you’re keeping my mother out of trouble, and I’ve no doubt you’re doing a fine job of it. Delighted to make your acquaintance. Budge up and make room, old girl,’ he said to Angela, who did so without thinking. Freddy sat down and called the waiter to bring more tea.

  Mrs. Hudd and Miss Atkinson, thrilled by the new arrival and the possibility of discovering more about their new friend Mrs. Wells, who up until then had been somewhat circumspect about herself, were more than happy to shake his hand.

  ‘How do you do,’ said Mrs. Hudd. ‘Why, Mrs. Wells, I had no idea you had a grown-up son. You don’t look nearly old enough.’

  ‘I married very young,’ said Angela, with a glare at Freddy which would have caused anyone else to blush with shame. Freddy, however, was quite unembarrassable, and so merely simpered innocently at her.

  ‘Splendid place this, what?’ he said, with a wide sweep of his arm towards the large window with its view of the bay. ‘Just a little chilly, but I don’t mind that. Once one’s travelled to the Arctic Circle anything else seems positively balmy by comparison.’

  ‘The Arctic Circle? Do you mean to say you have been to the North Pole?’ said Mrs. Hudd.

  ‘Oh yes, twice,’ said Freddy airily. ‘Unfortunately, we were a little ill-prepared on the first expedition and got stranded on an ice-floe on the way back. We almost had to resort to cannibalism—had actually got as far as drawing lots, as a matter of fact—but happily just then the thing floated within jumping distance of land and we were saved. Lucky for old Carstairs, who’d drawn the short finger-nail. Lucky for the rest of us too, as we didn’t much fancy eating him. Far too stringy.’

  ‘Goodness me!’ gasped Miss Atkinson.

  ‘The second trip went much more smoothly, though,’ continued Freddy. ‘We met a tribe of Eskimos and they took rather a liking to us, and helped us with supplies. Terribly friendly, the Eskimo people. They lead a simple life which looks very attractive to us jaded city-dwellers. I was almost tempted to join them, but I’m not especially fond of raw fish, and so in the end I was forced to bid them a regretful farewell.’

  He then proceeded to demonstrate how to build an igloo using cubes from the sugar-bowl. Mrs. Hudd and Miss Atkinson watched with rapt attention and exclaimed. Luckily they did not notice Angela, who was regarding Freddy through narrowed eyes.

  ‘Shall you be staying here at the hotel, Mr. Wells?’ said Mrs. Hudd at last, once it had been demonstrated beyond all doubt that sugar-cubes did not stick together in the same way as packed snow.

  ‘Yes, I expect I shall be here for a day or two. Mother is always so pleased to see me, aren’t you, old thing?’ he said affectionately to Angela, who nodded brightly and smiled. ‘Now, I’ll bet you ladies know all the best places to visit, don’t you? I shall expect you to show me around the place tomorrow. No excuses, now.’

  Mrs. Hudd and Miss Atkinson fluttered and giggled, and said they should be delighted.

  Angela now rose from her seat.

  ‘Come and see the view from the top of the cliff, darling,’ she said, in a voice which suggested that Freddy would be well advised to stand at a safe distance from the edge.

  ‘Oh, certainly, what?’ said Freddy. He stood up and bowed ceremoniously to his two new acquaintances. ‘Until tomorrow,’ he said, and allowed Angela to propel him firmly towards the door and out into the street.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ snapped Angela as soon as they were out of sight of the hotel. ‘Have you quite taken leave of your senses?’

  ‘I was going to ask the same thing of you,’ said Freddy.

  ‘Never mind that,’ said Angela. ‘How did you know I was here?’

  ‘William told me.’

  ‘What?’ said Angela. ‘What on earth was he thinking? How dare he?’

  ‘Don’t be cross with him,’ said Freddy. ‘I rather wheedled it out of him. I just dropped in to see how you were and found that you and Marthe had gone off somewhere without him. He knew where you’d gone but didn’t want to say, but I saw he was worried and kept on at him until he told me. As soon as he did I hopped on a train and here I am.’

  ‘Yes, here you are, and as you can see I’m in excellent health, so you can jolly well hop on another train back to London as soon as you like, and stop all this silly nonsense,’ said Angela.

  ‘I know what you’re doing, Angela,’ he said, ‘and I don’t like it.’

  Angela said nothing, but looke
d away.

  ‘You oughtn’t to be here,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why you let yourself be talked into it in the first place, but you must see that nothing good can come of it.’

  Angela set her jaw stubbornly, but still did not reply.

  ‘William isn’t the only one who’s worried about you,’ he went on. ‘So am I. And I dare say Marthe is too.’

  ‘You needn’t bother,’ said Angela. ‘I’m perfectly all right.’

  ‘Rot,’ said Freddy. ‘No-one could possibly be all right after what happened to you. I’d be a nervous wreck if it were I.’

  ‘Well, I’m not,’ said Angela sharply. She saw that he was about to speak again and went on, ‘Look, you may as well save your breath. I said I would do this and do it I shall.’

  ‘But it won’t do you any good,’ said Freddy.

  ‘I dare say it won’t, but that doesn’t matter. I’m under an obligation and I must discharge it, or I shall never be easy. Now, if you don’t want to make me cross you’ll stop talking about it.’

  Freddy regarded her, his expression a mixture of sympathy and exasperation.

  ‘I can see there’s no use in arguing with you,’ he said at last. ‘You’ve obviously made your mind up.’

  ‘I have.’

  ‘Then let me help you.’

  ‘What?’ said Angela in surprise.

  ‘If you’re really determined to do it, then it’s best you get it over and done with as quickly as possible,’ said Freddy. ‘And two heads are better than one, so why not take mine, such as it is? I’ve been reading about the case, and I’ve thought of one or two lines of inquiry that it might be worth while to pursue.’