Destroying Angel (12 page)

Cedric’s body was lying in Mrs Robson’s room. He could not remain there or be buried from Staines Manor. When I asked why not, she said that it would not be proper, for his station in life. The hint was that his doubtful parentage ruled him out of such a privilege.

Maybe she was shocked by my expression. Besides, she said, there was no longer a church in Staines since the pit closed, and the Staines’ private chapel had been disused since a disagreement with a previous incumbent. The church-going inhabitants now had to walk the two miles into Alnwick and back again.

However, there was a kirkyard still in Staines where many wished to bide their time until the last trump, and poor Cedric had to be taken to his own home in the village to await burial. She would make all the funeral arrangements.

‘The old priest at Alnwick,’ she continued, ‘used to give services at Staines Chapel. Long retired, but I visit him from time to time and I’m sure he would say the words over poor Cedric. He would remember him as a little bairn.’

And with terrible realisation dawning once again, throwing her apron over her face, she began to sob noisily. Poor Mrs Robson. I put my arms around her.

I could sympathise. I knew what she was feeling. The guilt of not having cared enough for her would-be nephew who had met such a tragic end; who, now and forever, would be known not as ‘that young villain’ but, with all sins and misdemeanours wiped out by his tragic death, would be deified as ‘poor Cedric’.

Wolf came in, asked if there was anything he could do. The situation was explained to him and he said, of course, he would take Cedric’s body back in the cart to the village.

So it would all be arranged, his few drinking cronies notified as he had no relations. This brought new floods of tears from Mrs Robson. ‘There’s so much I could say, but I dare not – I dare not,’ she moaned, in the manner of one beside herself with grief.

I offered to go with them down to Cedric’s home, and I must confess that it was not only out of sympathy for the distraught housekeeper, but also because I had an idea that there might be some clues as to how Cedric had met his end.

Suddenly I wanted to see him.

‘You’re not afraid?’ asked Mrs Robson. I shook my head, seeing no need to tell her or Wolf, who knew already, that dead people, whatever their race, were no novelty to me.

I followed her in and we both looked down solemnly on the young face I had never liked in life. Now death had taken away the mockery, the leering expression that had irritated me, and left only the marble effigy of a very handsome young man, almost noble in bearing.

A statue somewhere? The shooting party came vividly to mind, the glimpse of the Duke and his entourage – then just as quickly vanished.

‘Would you like me to come with you?’ I asked.

‘Oh, Mrs McQuinn, would you do that? I’d be so grateful – that is, if you’re not too busy.’

Wolf gave me an approving glance and left to talk to Hubert and bring round the cart, saying that he would deliver Thane to Miss Kate in his usual daily routine.

By the time I came downstairs, dressed and ready to leave with them, Wolf was driving the cart and, in the back were the white-sheeted passenger and Mrs Robson who, with a sudden return to practical matters, was discussing undertakers and coffins and laying-out clothes.

The doctor had said the police would need to notify the coroner. They would have to be informed of the name of the deceased’s next of kin. As Mrs Robson could not honestly claim that, she had told him she might come across something in his lodging – papers or letters that would reveal his parentage – a suggestion that also suited the purpose of my visit, but I hardly listened.

Something was worrying me, something that should have registered with Rose McQuinn, Lady Investigator. True, I was horrified and shocked by Cedric’s death, far more than I would have imagined for a young man I had frankly disliked and avoided. Perhaps I was feeling guilty about that now, for whatever had been his real nature, that someone so young should have met with such a vicious and unnecessary end was an outrage.

But was it an accident? Always a greedy lad, ready to snatch up any food left lying in his auntie’s kitchen, had he accidentally picked up the wrong soup? Or had he been deliberately poisoned, as would have been my intended fate had Thane not intervened?

Cedric’s lodging looked little more than a derelict barn
from the outside, but the sight that met us inside, as Mrs Robson pushed open the creaking door hanging by its one creaking hinge, was sordid in the extreme.

At first glance, we saw papers, clothing, piles of dishes, cracked cups and plates with the remains of food scattered everywhere. Added to that, a pile of unwashed linen and a rough unmade bed in the corner.

‘Did he always live like this?’ I asked.

‘Like a rat’s nest, isn’t it?’ Mrs Robson shook her head. ‘I’ve only been here once before. He had a bad cold and I came to bring him some of Mr Rider’s herbs. Didn’t know the meaning of tidying or keeping a place clean, the poor lad. Knew no better. There’s folks like that everywhere. He’s not alone in his bad housekeeping,’ she said, almost by way of apology.

But what Mrs Robson had not observed was that although there was little furniture, someone had been here recently and in a great hurry. True, Cedric’s agony might well have accounted for an overturned chair and a table lying on its side, but he would hardly have been in a state to pull open drawers in the table, a cupboard and a decrepit sideboard and scatter their contents on to the floor.

All the indications were that his lodging had been visited by an intruder whose very hasty search had been interrupted.

Someone looking for something. And I could hazard a guess to what that vital something was. But had they found it?

I found part of the answer as, leaving Mrs Robson and Wolf to their sad task and deciding that I could be more gainfully employed with a sweeping brush and duster, I went into the tiny scullery, which had been adapted from a large cupboard.

There were no dusting cloths but in the dark corner of a top shelf I noticed a pot of glue and some newspapers, out-dated 
editions of
The Times
, surely odd reading material for Cedric. Removing them revealed a pair of scissors, and a substantial part of the solution to Hubert’s problem.

As I reappeared, Mrs Robson snatched the sweeping brush from me. ‘You’re not to do that, Mrs McQuinn. I’ll attend to what’s necessary. Now, off you go.’

As I stepped out of the door, Cedric’s friend Jock rushed over, looking considerably shaken.

‘He was sick and in terrible pain when we were having a pint. Said he felt like he was dying and wanted his auntie, so I helped him over to the house. I didn’t take it serious like.’

He looked as if he was going to burst into tears and I realised then just how young he was too. I murmured condolences and he said how greatly Ceddy would be missed, what great times they had together, particularly on a Saturday night when they took the train to Newcastle, where there was more life than in dreary old Alnwick.

And that, I decided, accounted for the postmark too. I was so deep in thought as I walked back through the village that I almost walked past Grace. With the speed at which news, bad and good, seemed to travel through Staines, she had already heard about Cedric. She made the usual hushed-voiced comments and put on a suitably sad face, the way people so often do about irritating persons suddenly transfigured and made noble by violent death.

‘Bit of a lone spirit was Cedric. Got into bad company, like yon lad Jock. Tearaway, he always was, even as a bairn. Now he works for the gardeners up at the Castle – sometimes. Mostly he’s bone lazy, lolling about and looking for fresh mischief to get into.’

She sighed. ‘Poor Cedric, he was fond of his auntie, as he 
called her. Now she has the whole burden to carry. She won’t be the only one to miss him, either. That young Kate, up at the house – he was quite gone on her.’

I must have looked surprised and she laughed. ‘They didn’t know what was going on under their noses. Not that Cedric had much hope there – Hubert would never have given his blessing. Not with her an heiress, if anything happens to him.’

I said I’d only met Cedric a couple of times. I had no idea there was anything between them.

She made a face, looked uncomfortable, obviously not wanting to say too much about the dead. ‘Having no parents made a difference to them, drew them together, and they were both so young.’

‘What of his father? I wonder if he’s still alive.’

Grace nodded. ‘No one had ever heard of Mr Smith, the surname he claimed. Most likely his mother was a servant in some big house in Alnwick and the master had his wicked way with her. Happens all the time. Cedric was a handsome lad, he had a look of the better class, I always thought.’

Those had been my thoughts too, seeing him lying dead.

As she made casual remarks about the weather and asked how long I was staying at Staines, I noticed, rapidly approaching, a tall, thin man, wearing a policeman’s uniform and a purposeful expression.

‘Ah, here you are, Grace. I went to the house, thought I’d missed you—’

She turned round. ‘Derek! Your fault, you always descend on us without warning.’ And introducing us she said, ‘Meet Sergeant Derek Sloan, Pete’s brother.’

I had noticed the stripes as he touched his helmet and bowed politely. 

Grace asked: ‘What brings you here today?’

Derek glanced at me and said: ‘Police business, Grace.’

His voice held a note of warning, which Grace ignored as she said slyly, ‘I know why you’re here, or at least I can make a good guess. Derek is investigating Cedric’s death. He’ll tell you all about it himself, I’m sure,’ she added proudly, before giving an anxious look towards the teashop. ‘I have friends to meet – I’m late – gossiping as usual.’

Dashing away, she turned and said, ‘Look in on your way back, Derek, if you have time. And, Mrs McQuinn, do come and see me any time, if you have any problems I can help with.’

The sergeant smiled down on me. That wasn’t difficult, as he was over six foot tall. ‘Glad to meet someone from the house, Mrs McQuinn.’ He put his head on one side in an interrogating manner that evoked memories of Jack Macmerry and made me wonder, do all policeman have such penetrating eyes? Was it part of the necessary equipment along with the uniform?

‘Are you heading in that direction?’ When I said yes, he nodded. ‘Then perhaps I might accompany you?’

As we began walking, he asked how long I had known Grace. Saying we had just met, he looked surprised.

‘You sounded like old friends. Of course, Grace is like that. Very caring. Some might even say a little nosey,’ he added with a laugh. Remembering her parting remark, I wondered what problems she thought I had on my mind.

‘Can you tell me anything about this unfortunate accident?’ Sloan asked.

I had expected the question. ‘In what way, Sergeant? What is it you wish to know?’ 

‘Did you, by any chance, witness the incident of Mr Smith’s collapse?’

‘Hardly, Sergeant. It was four in the morning and I was in bed, asleep.’

He sucked in his lower lip thoughtfully. ‘Of course. I observed you leaving his lodging just before you met my sister-in-law.’

‘Cedric was a stranger to me, Sergeant. I have only been in Staines a few days and encountered him a couple of times working in the grounds. I merely went this morning to support Mrs Robson. She was very upset.’

Sloan nodded. ‘So I observed, poor lady, when I took a look around myself. Some kind of relative, I gather.’

‘Cedric called her his auntie, but I believe that was more by adoption than by blood.’

A pause, then he asked. ‘Might I ask, did anything strike you as unusual in any way?’

‘Since that was the first and only time I had ever seen inside Cedric’s lodging, I was taken aback by the general untidiness – a certain squalor, to put it mildly.’

He laughed. ‘You are obviously far too young to have lads of that age about the house, Mrs McQuinn. I can tell you, boys take a longer time to house-train than our police dogs.’

I smiled. If he was hoping for information regarding Cedric’s accident from me, he wasn’t going to get it. Discretion guaranteed; lady investigators didn’t speculate – they kept their mouths closed until they were paid to open them.

The conversation turned to Edinburgh, which Sloan had visited on occasion. I refrained from asking if he had ever encountered Detective Inspector Jack Macmerry, or mentioning 
my own interest in crime, domestic and otherwise.

As we neared the house I left him to his official business, of getting statements from members of the household, so that Cedric’s death could be filed away as accidental.

Or was it? And would he go back to Alnwick satisfied with the result of his enquiry? An enquiry that had only skimmed the surface of the terrifying truth lurking behind those smooth walls.

I took Thane from the stables and, as we returned from our delayed morning walk, I met Sergeant Sloan leaving the house.

‘A splendid dog you have there, Mrs McQuinn,’ he said, as Thane politely allowed his head to be patted.

Yes, he was mine, I replied to the next question. Good-days were exchanged and I went round the back of the house to the kitchen door in the hope that I could avoid Hubert. There was no escape; he was at his desk with the study door open, obviously awaiting my return.

‘Do come in, Rose. Close the door, please.’ He indicated a seat opposite him but, apart from that intimate look I found so embarrassing, he made no attempt to walk round and kiss me.

‘Where have you been?’

‘I went to give Mrs Robson a helping hand.’ He frowned at that. ‘She was taking Cedric back to his lodging, with Mr Rider’s assistance, of course.’

He nodded, then said sternly, ‘Surely they could have managed without subjecting you to such a distressing ordeal.’

‘Not at all. Mrs Robson was very upset and I offered to go with her.’

‘Really?’ he said vaguely. ‘Do you know, I don’t think I’ve 
ever seen her shed a tear in this house in all the years she’s been with the family. Doesn’t sound like her at all.’

To change the subject I asked, ‘What do you think happened – about Cedric, I mean? Weren’t you shocked?’

He came to life, saying sharply, ‘Shocked, of course I was shocked – I still am – that something like that could happen in this house. I can’t imagine Mrs Robson being so careless with the mushrooms – that’s not like her either. She’s so meticulous. Mushrooms!’ he repeated. ‘My favourite! Now I don’t think I’ll ever feel the same about her blasted soup!’

And thumping his hands on the desk, he added indignantly, ‘We could all have been poisoned. You are aware of that surely, Rose?’

I could have told him the truth then, about Collins’ attempt on my life that would have succeeded had it not been for Thane’s timely intervention. However, I felt that such a remark would be unworthy. She was not here to defend herself and she had suffered – and was suffering – enough without me heaping on the final straw in her deteriorating relationship with Hubert.

‘Cedric lived in frightful squalor.’

‘Did he?’ Hubert didn’t seem interested and said angrily, ‘As for that policeman’s visit, wanting to take statements from everyone! I wish you had heard him. As if that young villain was a part of the family and not just a casual labourer on the estate.’ He paused, and then went on, ‘And I could have told him a thing or two about being blackmailed too.’

‘That would have been inadvisable, Hubert. Once the police are involved—’

‘I know, I know – no need for any warning. That was precisely my reason for engaging a private investigator.’ He 
paused to give me a tender smile, which was rapidly followed by an angry frown. ‘But having a policeman waste my time with all his damned silly questions… I shall put in an official complaint to the authorities—’

I interrupted. ‘You might be interested to know that I believe I have solved your problem, Hubert.’

‘What problem would that be?’

‘The identity of your blackmailer.’

He leapt to his feet. ‘You have! That’s marvellous. Who—’

I held up my hand. ‘This is just a theory, but I think it’s a plausible one and worth further investigation.’

He sat down again and stared at me blankly.

‘Apart from the general untidiness, it was obvious to me that someone had turned Cedric’s place upside down, either before or immediately after his death, searching for something.’

Silent for a moment, he shrugged, and then said slowly, ‘I don’t follow. What has any of this to do with my – problem?’

I told him about
The Times
, the glue and the scissors. ‘As for the last note you found when you got home from the shoot—’

‘Yes, yes,’ he said eagerly. ‘He was with the beaters at the picnic and they came back here to deliver the birds. My jacket was lying over a chair.’ He gave me a look of triumph. ‘Well, well, he had ample opportunity.’

‘I believe he was your blackmailer,’ I said. ‘And his friend Jock mentioned that they went into Newcastle regularly, which suggests that they might well have been in the plot together.’

There was no response from Hubert, so I went on:

‘I considered Cedric a prime suspect from the moment I 
heard that he had access to the house when he came regularly to see his auntie, Mrs Robson.’

‘She should never have allowed—’ he began indignantly.

I cut him short. ‘Well, let us suppose that he came while she was absent in the village, or was working in another part of the house, and that he took the opportunity to see if there was anything besides food that might be worth pocketing.’

‘You mean that little ruffian stole things from my house!’ Hubert sounded shocked and furious.

I ignored that. ‘Let’s just suppose he also walked across the room to your study here, found the locked drawer and, in the hope of finding money perhaps, searched for the key and found those interesting photographs instead.’

Even as I said the words I wondered, not for the first time, why Hubert kept such dangerous photographs in his desk drawer when they could have been safely locked away in his dark room.

I asked him as delicately as I could.

He frowned, shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Must have had them out for some reason, meant to replace them. And forgot all about it. It wasn’t until I got the first threatening note with the clipped-off corner that I realised they were missing.’ He shrugged again, saying shortly: ‘I’m a busy man, Rose.’

A careless one as well, I thought, considering the cost of that moment’s forgetfulness. It now seemed probable that Cedric would have wanted to share his secret with one of his cronies, like Jock, especially when they had downed a few ales. If that was the case, then with his partner-in-crime dead, Jock had seized the opportunity of returning to the lodging and removing the photographs. 

I decided that it might be worthwhile finding out who else had been in Cedric’s drinking company that last night.

I would need to enlist Wolf’s aid since ladies could hardly, with any respectability, present themselves at the bar in the local inn.

For the present, however, I would keep my suspicions to myself, but I said, ‘I think I should warn you, Hubert, that Cedric might not have been acting alone and that you may not have heard the last of the blackmailer.’

‘You don’t think that young blackguard was working alone?’ Hubert looked quite scared at this new peril.

At least this new evidence seemed to clear Collins of suspicion. I remembered Cedric talking to Kate at the shoot. Had Collins been aiding and abetting Kate in her secret dalliance?

‘As a matter of interest, was Cedric the man you disturbed with Kate that night?’

He stared at me, then said shortly, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

I persisted. ‘You said that the whole episode had been a charade. That Kate was pretending to be sleep-walking to meet a lover.’

He laughed. ‘Oh, did I? Well, well, I made it up. Just trying to impress you with my detecting abilities.’

This was too much and I was about to tell him what I thought of that behaviour when sounds in the hall indicated that Mrs Robson and Wolf had returned.

Hubert stood up. He seemed glad of the interruption and said hastily, ‘We’ll talk of this later. I have to speak to Rider and I want a stern word with my housekeeper regarding her soup.’ 

‘Don’t be too hard on her, Hubert. She’s suffered enough for one day.’

‘Hmph,’ he said as I left him.

Thane would be with Kate now for his daily dose of boredom, so I wandered out into the grounds. Glad to be free of the house, I found that rustic seat with its bird’s-eye view of the village including the tiny kirkyard where Cedric would be buried.

Still angry with Hubert, I wondered if Kate had been telling the truth. She seemed so genuinely scared. Had she really been in danger from a killer? And why had I allowed myself to be taken in by Hubert’s explanation of a would-be lover?

So taking out my sketchbook, the back of which had become my case logbook, I brought it up to date with the dramatic events of the last twenty-four hours.

How cold they seemed in practical, casual words. How different to the stark terror of reality.

I had just closed my book when Hubert approached, the last person I wanted to see.

‘I thought I would find you here. My favourite place, too. Isn’t that extraordinary?’ With that endearing smile, he indicated that I make room for him. I could hardly refuse, and he sat down beside me, too close for comfort.

Before I could resume our interrupted conversation and express fully my annoyance, he said, ‘I am going across to Holy Island to take some photographs for a magazine article. I must seize the chance. This mellow weather is perfect, the lighting so dramatic. Would you care to come with me, Rose?’

The question was wistful and without waiting for my reply, in the manner of a grown up addressing a small child, he went 
on, ‘This has all been so distressing for you, my dear. I am sure the change would do you good.’

Pausing for a moment, he continued: ‘I have another reason. There is an old clergyman I should like you to meet, Rose. He was a friend of my father’s, fell on hard times, and I heard recently that he is now living on the island. My informant alerted me to the fact that he has been in poor health, so I have decided to offer him a refuge here with us, as winter can be severe on the island. Do you agree?’ he added anxiously.

I did not see how his old friend’s winter quarters should concern me as I intended that Thane and I should be safely back in Edinburgh long ere the first snowflake fell on Staines, but I said I thought it was a good idea.

‘Excellent. I thought I might even give him a living and a small pension.’

Looking at Hubert then, I decided this was a new caring side to his character.

Wolf Rider was also to accompany us to Holy Island. He had invited himself along to bring back herbs for Kate’s medicine.

I didn’t think Hubert was best pleased by this arrangement, but I remembered that Wolf had made the suggestion earlier that we should go together. I confess that I was glad he would be with us to divert Hubert’s amorous intentions, if intentions there were, since I also learnt that it was very easy to be cut off by the tide on the island if one didn’t look sharp. And if that happened, there was no alternative but to stay overnight. That was the last thing I wanted.

Hubert was saying, ‘We should go directly. I shall need to find out about the tides. But I believe Rider has a tide-table. 
We don’t want to be cut off – stranded.’

The look he gave me hinted that nothing would suit him better as he added: ‘There is nothing urgent to keep me here. I have Rider’s assurance that there are no new calves imminent. When we return I shall have to negotiate with Tankerville at Chillingham Castle for permission to extract a new young bull from the herd.’

I presumed he meant for Wolf to extract a new bull calf, as I could not imagine Hubert undertaking such a dangerous task.

Later that day I collected Thane from Kate’s room. She looked sadder than ever, staring out of the window, and hardly turned her head to acknowledge my greeting. Collins gave me an angry look and I didn’t linger.

Wolf had almost finished repairing the roof of his bothy, and today he had a helper. ‘This is Tom,’ Wolf shouted, as he leapt down to talk to me.

‘Tom is putting on the final touches. He is a great improvement on my last assistant,’ he said sadly, remembering Cedric. ‘Used to work down the pit here in his younger days. Can turn his hand to anything, the whole village is constantly at his door. His fame has spread as far as Alnwick too. And look, Rose,’ he said, steering me round the back. ‘What do you think of that?’

‘That’ was a bicycle, older, shabbier than mine. Held together here and there with pieces of wire, it had once been pride of possession to someone in its early days.

‘Belongs to Tom. He has been teaching me to ride,’ he added proudly.

Hearing our voices, Tom looked down from his perch on 
the roof, hammer in hand. ‘My trusty steed, miss. Mr Rider needs no teaching from me, goes like the wind already. Seen you on your machine in the village, miss. Made quite a stir, it did. Not many women in these parts have bicycles – scared of them, they are.’

‘Don’t blame them,’ Wolf whispered. ‘I’m better on a horse.’ And, looking back at the roof, he said he was hoping to move back within the week.

When I told him that Hubert had invited me to go along to Holy Island, ‘A good idea,’ was his only comment.

Kate did not appear at dinner that evening and when Holy Island was discussed, it became quite obvious that Hubert could not conceal his disappointment at the prospect of Wolf’s presence.

Collins leant over, whispered something urgently to Hubert, doubtless asking him if she could come too, but he said shortly, ‘Of course you cannot come. Who would look after Kate? We might even be gone for a couple of days. Who knows?’

At the mention of a possible stay overnight, she looked narrow-eyed at me, as if it was my fault – part of a plan to seduce Hubert, high tides and all. She was very subdued and even tearful for the rest of the meal. I couldn’t help being sorry for her obsession with Hubert, which I felt was driving her to the threshold of madness.

‘We can take Roswal with us,’ said Hubert, and to Wolf: ‘Are you sure you want to come? Can you spare the time?’ he added weakly.

In reply, Wolf assured him that this visit was necessary. In fact, he should have gone a week ago as his herbs for Kate 
were getting low. They did not last indefinitely. Once their freshness was gone, so did their restorative powers diminish.

Kate’s welfare was the one indisputable matter that Hubert could not counter. He knew he had no argument but I guessed that he gave in with mixed feelings about having Wolf with us.

As for me, I had no misgivings.