A Killer Ball at Honeychurch Hall (18 page)

Alfred didn't answer.

I had to shield my eyes from the glare of a flashlight that Shawn shone full in my face.

“Good heavens!” he cried. “Katherine?”

“Evening, Shawn,” I said gaily.

Alfred leaned over me. “Evening, Officer.”

Shawn turned his flashlight onto his watch. I saw the cuff of striped pajamas beneath his trench coat sleeve. “I would say it's good morning, wouldn't you?”

“I suppose it is.” I gave a silly grin. “How time flies.”

“Where have you two been?” Shawn went on.

“I'm glad we've bumped into you, Officer,” said Alfred smoothly. “Iris's car was stolen this evening and we've been looking all over the countryside for it.”

“That's right!” I exclaimed. “Stolen. She's really upset.”

“Stolen?”
Shawn frowned. “What time was this?”

Alfred leaned over me again. “This evening, Officer,” he said. “Silly woman always leaves the keys in the ignition. I told her one day this would happen.”

Shawn had to know about the break-in at the warehouse. He
had
to—and the paintings were in the back of my car!

“Tonight, eh.” Shawn stroked his chin thoughtfully. “And you reported this theft, I presume?”

“Not yet.”

“Then I will do so for you. License plate?”

“I don't know,” I said. “We'll call you tomorrow with the information.”

But then I had a horrible thought and my mother's MINI was forgotten. It was a question I just had to ask.

“You're out late,” I said. “Is this about Ginny? Have you found her?”

“Unfortunately no,” Shawn said grimly. “I just hope this isn't a sign of things to come.”

I didn't think I could handle any more shocks today. “Why? Whatever's happened?”

“Bryan Laney has been murdered.”

 

Chapter Seventeen

“Murdered!” I squeaked.

“
Who
did you say was murdered?” Alfred demanded.

“Bryan Laney,” said Shawn.

Alfred went perfectly still.

“You knew him?” Shawn asked.

“No,” said Alfred quickly.

I thought back to the comment Alfred had made in the kitchen and started to wonder. Other than the break-in at the warehouse, I was Alfred's only alibi unless …

“When did this happen?”

“We're waiting for confirmation but he was last seen alive at nine forty-five,” said Shawn. “So between then and when his lordship discovered the body.”

“Rupert found him?” This was a surprise.

“His lordship was taking the tradesman's entrance and found his body in the culvert.”

This was odd. To my knowledge, Rupert rarely used that entrance.

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“That's all I can tell you at this time,” said Shawn. “Obviously we will be talking to everyone and ascertaining their movements this evening. We'll be taking
particular
note of any unusual behavior—such as your little jaunt to find a stolen car.”

“Do you think this could be connected to Ginny's disappearance?” I said.

“We're not ruling anything out at this time.”

Bryan had been my prime suspect for both Pandora and Ginny. His death truly shocked me.

“Now, it's late,” said Shawn. “I suggest you go home. We'll want to speak to everyone at the Hall later this morning.”

We set off once more, both of us unable to speak. I realized my hands were shaking. “Aren't you going to say anything?”

“About what?” Alfred said.

“Bryan Laney has been murdered.”

“Nothing to do with me.”

“And what about Mum's car,” I exclaimed. “Who is going to tell her?”

“Pull yourself together and let a man think,” snapped Alfred. “This is serious and I don't need a hysterical female flapping about and making it worse. Do you
understand
?”

I was so taken aback by this unexpected flash of anger than I realized what I was really dealing with. Alfred was a hardened criminal who had served time.

As I turned into the courtyard, my heart sank even further.

“Oh blimey,” said Alfred. “This is all we need.”

Mum was sitting on the mounting block wrapped in her mink coat. She scrambled down and hurried over before I'd even turned off the ignition.

“Where have you been?” she demanded. “Something awful has happened. Where's Alfred? Oh—what are
you
doing here? Where's my car?”

“We'll explain in a minute, Mum,” I said. “You've heard about Bryan?”

“Of course I have!” Mum exclaimed. “I've been worried sick. There's obviously a killer on the loose.”

I regarded her with suspicion. “But you thought it was okay to wait outside in the dark?”

“I kept thinking you would be back at any minute,” Mum protested. “I'm frozen to the bone.”

“I suggest we all go inside and have a brandy,” said Alfred. “It's been a long night.”

*   *   *

“I thought you'd have the sense to check the petrol tank,” Mum shouted ten minutes later.

“I didn't expect you to be driving around on empty,” Alfred shouted back.

We were sitting at the kitchen table with three balloons of brandy.

“This is disastrous!” Mum exclaimed.

“But not as disastrous as Bryan Laney lying dead in a field,” I pointed out.

Mum lifted her glass and as she did so, I caught a glimpse of bruise marks on her wrists. The minute she saw I noticed, she hastily pulled her sleeves down to cover them.

“Mum?”

“It's obvious that Rupert did it,” said Mum, giving a barely perceptible nod to Alfred who was nursing his brandy. “He found the body.”

“But why would he kill Bryan?” I demanded.

“Trespassing,” Mum declared. “Shawn said—”

“Shawn came …
here
?” I cried.

“Oh yes. When he turned up in his pajamas, I felt so sure Alfred had been caught.” I caught a distinct slur in her voice.

“Have you been drinking all evening?”

“Just one or two,” said Mum defensively. “For shock. Gin doesn't cut it.”

“The copper came here, did he?” said Alfred at last.

“Yes. And I was so sure. So
sure
”—Mum slammed the brandy balloon onto the table—“that Alfred had been caught and what with you being on parole.”

“Well, we weren't caught, Iris.”

“There is no
we,
Alfred,” I said primly.

“But I was so
sure
you were—”

“Pull yourself together, Iris.” Alfred's voice was hard again. “We've got to get our stories straight. What did you tell him?”

Mum nodded. “Yes. Sorry.” She took another sip. “Shawn seemed surprised when I answered the door because he thought I was out. And then he thought you were out. Which you were.” Mum nodded again. “So I told him that you'd both gone to Plymouth. To the cinema.”

“The
cinema,
” Alfred and I chorused.

“You stupid, stupid woman!” Alfred yelled. “Why would you say such a thing?
Why?
”

“I panicked,” Mum wailed. “I said Plymouth because it's in the opposite direction from Newton Abbot.”

“But why would we go in separate cars?” I said.

Mum clapped her hand over her mouth in horror.

“That's not the point.” Alfred was struggling to keep his temper. “Why do I always have to clear up after your mess, Iris?”

“What do you mean,
always
having to clear up
my
mess?”

“Do you want a list?”

“Children! Children!” I exclaimed. “Let's focus now. Let's look at the facts. Mum, your MINI ran out of petrol at the business park. Alfred told Shawn that your car had been stolen—oh, wait…”

“Exactly!” Alfred snarled. “That copper knew we were lying about the car being stolen because he never mentioned the cinema.”

“You're right,” Mum groaned. “He would have said, ‘Did you enjoy the film?'”

“Hang on!” Alfred frowned. “Shawn didn't ask us
where
the car was stolen.”

“We could say it was stolen
at
the cinema?” I suggested. “The keys were left in the ignition and someone drove it away.”

“It's the perfect alibi!” Mum enthused.

We all fell silent. Twice, Mum opened her mouth to say something then snapped it shut.

“So … what did we go to see at the cinema?” I said gingerly.

“I'll get the local paper.” Mum got up—somewhat unsteadily I noted—and grabbed the
Dipperton Deal
from the oak dresser. She gave it to me.

I couldn't help but scan the headlines. “Interesting that the lead story is about finding the double-hide.”

“I know,” said Mum. “Not a squeak about Pandora's murder at all.”

“What's playing, then?” said Alfred. “I hope it's something I've seen before. We had a Friday night film club at the Scrubs but they always showed kiddy movies.”

I turned to the back of the newspaper and laughed. “Oh dear.”

“What's on?” said Mum.

“What time would we have seen the film?”

Alfred frowned, then said, “It would have to have been a late-night showing unless we went out for a curry afterward—”

“Which we wouldn't have done because we would have discovered that Mum's car had been stolen.”

Alfred nodded. “She's right.”

“I'm sorry to say that it limits us to one film.
Fifty Shades of Grey
.”

“I can't believe they're still showing that,” said Mum. “What happened to the sequel?”

“I'm just telling you what's playing. I don't know the details.”

“Fifty what?” said Alfred. “The last film I saw was called Freeze or
Frozen
.”

Mum reddened. “It's a spoof on
Houdini
only with whips.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation I couldn't help chuckling.

“Oh, that'll be easy enough to remember.” Alfred ran his fingers through his thatch of hair. “If that's our alibi. Then that's our alibi. I'm off. I'm tired. I'm not as young as I was.”

“But what about all that stuff in my car?” I said.

“I'll sort it out tomorrow.” Alfred shuffled out of the kitchen. We heard the door to the carriageway slam.

“I'm off to bed, too,” I said.

“No,” said Mum quickly. “Not yet. I need to talk to you about something.”

“You mean Houdini?”

“Oh. Right. Well—Alfred can be a bit
prudish,
” she said.

“After all those years in prison?” I took one look at the expression on her face and my heart sank. “Oh God. Please tell me you didn't have anything to do with Bryan—”

“Of course not,” Mum exclaimed, “but he
was
here earlier.”

“O-kay,” I said slowly.

“I heard a noise outside and thought you were back.”

“Go on.”

“Well … it was Bryan. I caught him coming out of that old feed shed, snooping about.”

I waited for her to continue.

“He thought everyone was out—no cars, you see. Of course he turned on the charm. He said he'd recognize me anywhere because I hadn't changed a bit.”

How original.

“And?”

“He started talking about Pandora and if I remembered anything about the night of the midsummer ball,” said Mum.

“And?”

“I said, not really. Just the fact Pandora had been wearing the Cleopatra costume that I'd made for her ladyship,” Mum went on. “Then he said something about telling fortunes and I said why, did he want me to tell him his and he said, ‘So you don't remember?'”

“Remember what?”

“He wouldn't say.” Mum bit her lip. “He was acting very funny,” she said. “All jumpy. Nervous. He asked when I'd last seen Joan Stark—”

“Joan.” I remembered seeing Bryan's camper van leaving Sunny Hill Lodge and told Mum so.

“Well, I haven't for donkey's years so I told him,” said Mum. “He asked if I'd seen the
Daily Post
and I said yes.”

I thought for a moment. “Mum, I think Bryan either saw something or knew something about that night—something that actually got him killed.”

Mum's eyes widened. “Well, I nearly killed him myself—before someone else did, I mean. I haven't finished my story, yet!”

“Okay.”

“And
then
Bryan seemed to relax and he asked for a tour of the Carriage House.”

“He wanted to see the Carriage House in the
dark
?”

“I know. I thought it was a bit odd,” said Mum. “We went into the carriageway and he started poking around the stalls and tack room—really nosing about and asking questions. We reminisced a bit about—well, the past.”

“Okay.”

“He kept calling me Electra, which to start with was funny but after ten minutes, became very annoying,” said Mum. “And then he pointed to the hayloft and winked. He wanted a bit of nooky for old time's sake. Can you believe it?”

“I thought you just kissed Bryan, mother. You never told me about—nooky.”

“Didn't I?”

“No wonder Alfred didn't approve of Bryan,” I exclaimed. “You were underage!”

“It was different back then,” said Mum. “I was very mature for sixteen.”

“Fifteen.”

“And we didn't go all the—”

“Argh! I get the picture, spare me the details.”

“Well—that was then. This is now but Bryan wouldn't take no for an answer.”

I was appalled. “Is that where you got those bruises from? On your wrists?”