House of the Lost (33 page)

A report in the
Guardian
’s online archives, dated 2006, stated unequivocally that children had been used by Ceau
escu’s Intelligence Service. They had to report to their Securitate handlers on their friends’ and families’ opinions on the Communist Party, on whether they listened to Western radio stations, or even if they made jokes about Ceau
escu. In some cases, the children had been blackmailed over trivial childish sins – things they had done wrong at school, tiny offences they had nervously committed. Some had been threatened that their parents or brothers and sisters would suffer if they did not do what was wanted. Theo remembered how he had described the children in Matthew’s school being set a weekend composition to describe where they lived and the people around them. Had that been a sly ploy to get information about the ordinary men and women in the outlying districts, or had it come from Theo’s own mind?

He sat back massaging his aching neck muscles, then seeing the half hour was up, turned off the computer and shuffled his notes into some sort of order, along with a handful of pages he had printed out. Lesley was not in the main hall, and Theo was just thinking he would have to find someone to direct him to the old wing, when she came down the stairs with the Bursar.

‘Sorry, Theo, were you waiting?’ said Lesley. ‘I had to go back for my coat. Bursar, thanks so much – I’ve loved seeing the paintings. Sister Miriam’s very knowledgeable, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, very. It’s easy to underestimate her because she’s generally so quiet,’ said the Bursar. ‘Mr Kendal, I picked up one of the centenary booklets we had printed last year – there’s a box of them in those rooms. I thought you might like to look through it some time.’

‘Thank you,’ said Theo, taking the small glossy booklet. ‘Is Reverend Mother around?’

‘She’ll be about to take evening reports in the common room,’ said the Bursar. ‘I’m on my way there now.’

‘Oh, I see. Well, would you thank her for me? And Sister Catherine as well?’ He was annoyed to hear a tiny hesitation in his voice before he said Catherine’s name.

‘Of course I will, but it’s been our pleasure,’ said the Bursar.

‘They’re nice, aren’t they?’ said Lesley as she and Theo walked back along the lanes to Fenn House. It was almost dark outside, and a vapour had risen up from the river and was lying over the ground. ‘We should have got to know them years ago,’ she said, putting her hands in her coat pockets.

‘Yes,’ said Theo. He looked down at her. ‘Well? You saw the sketches?’

‘The ones in the hall. Yes, I did. I had quite a good look at them, in fact, and I think you’re right – they’re the same artist as ours,’ she said. ‘Only those two are signed, aren’t they? The artist was called Matthew Valk.’

It gave Theo the most extraordinary feeling to hear someone use Matthew’s name. He listened as Lesley explained about use of light and shade, and described some particular technique Matthew had apparently used, but he could make only brief responses.

‘How did your research go?’ asked Lesley, as they turned into Fenn’s drive.

‘It was surprising,’ said Theo. ‘I’ll tell you about it properly when I’ve untangled it. There are some peculiar things going on here, Lesley.’

‘What sort of peculiar?’

‘Mysterious peculiar.’

‘Such as sketches done out of their time?’

‘That’s one of them. Oh Lord, it’s nearly half past four – we’d better drive straight to Norwich for your train.’

‘I’ll just dive in and get my bag,’ said Lesley, as Theo unlocked the door.

‘And the sketch.’

‘I’m not forgetting that,’ she said. ‘I’ll let my boss see it in the morning and I’ll phone you with the result.’

As they drove to Norwich, she said, ‘Do you want me to bring the sketch back next weekend? I have the feeling you’d like it returned as soon as possible.’

‘Would you like to come again next weekend?’

‘Well, I would if I wouldn’t be in your way. I could bring my sketchbook and wander round the lanes,’ said Lesley.

‘Sounds fine.’

It was almost seven by the time Theo got back to Melbray and Fenn. He parked the car, and let himself in, hanging his jacket on the old-fashioned coat stand, and taking the St Luke’s booklet with him into the kitchen. It would be interesting to read about the convent’s history especially if there was a reference to Fenn House anywhere. He was just filling the kettle for a cup of tea when he thought he heard a knock on the front door. He went out at once, but there was no one there. Theo stood in the doorway for a moment, looking along the drive to the lane, shivering at the cold and unfriendly darkness, then went back inside, hearing the new lock click reassuringly into place.

But as he poured his cup of tea, he heard the sound again, and this time it was definitely not the front door. He listened carefully and it came a second time. Was it a creak? The stairs? He remembered the strong new locks on all the doors, but in the same moment a voice inside his head said, ‘But supposing you’ve locked someone in here with you?’

The sounds came again, and this time they formed a definite pattern of someone walking very slowly and very stealthily across the main landing upstairs. Theo’s heart began to pound, but he went to the foot of the stairs and looked up. The shadows clustered thickly and menacingly on the stairs. He caught a glimmer of movement above him, although he could not tell if it was someone darting across the landing or just the curtain billowing out from the long window. No, it could not be that, he had closed all the windows before they went to St Luke’s. Someone was inside the house.

To make sure he called out, ‘Hello? Is someone there?’

There was utter silence. Theo could hear his own heart beating. He’s listening, he thought. Whoever is up there is standing still and listening. Moving stealthily, not taking his eyes from the shadowy stairs, he stepped back to the coat stand inside the door, and felt in his jacket for the mobile phone. The nearest police station was about eight miles away – would they send someone out as an emergency? How long would it take? Ten minutes, fifteen? In fifteen minutes anything could happen. Above him the landing floorboards creaked again. He’s at the top of the stairs, thought Theo, I’ll grab the phone and get outside. It was then he realized the phone was not in his jacket – he had left it on the kitchen table that morning when he phoned to check Lesley’s train time. He turned to dart back, but as he went past the stairs, the shadows seemed to rear up and something sprang at him. There was a confused impression of dark clothes, and a long coat. Theo lifted his hands in defence, but the attacker had the advantage of being above him, and before he could do anything, something hard and heavy crunched down on his head. He gave a cry, his senses reeling, and pain exploded above his left ear. As he fell against the wall, sending a small table crashing to the ground, he was dimly aware of the figure running back across the hall, unbolting the front door, and going out into the night.

‘You have,’ said Michael Innes, closing his medical case with a snap, ‘been extremely lucky. Whatever hit you landed on the side of your skull. A little higher or a little lower and a bit more force behind the blow – and you might have suffered a haematoma. That’s bleeding in the brain.’

‘I know what it is,’ said Theo, who was lying on the settee of the sitting room, pressing a flannel containing ice cubes against the side of his head.

‘It’s often fatal without prompt treatment,’ said Innes, calmly. ‘But you don’t have any signs of it – or even of concussion as far as I can tell. Balance, speech, coordination are all normal. No nausea?’

‘A bit. I’m still rather dizzy, but nothing much.’

Innes studied Theo for a moment. ‘I don’t think a CT scan is necessary,’ he said, ‘but if the nausea increases in the next twelve hours or so, phone me at once. Or if there’s severe dizziness, or double vision or actual vomiting . . . If there’s any doubt or if you can’t get me, don’t wait, call 999 for an ambulance.’

‘I will.’

‘The nausea should fade after a few hours. You’ll have a bad headache though.’

‘I have, but I’ll take some paracetamol in a minute.’

‘I’ve got something a bit stronger in my bag. Here you are. It’s got mildly anti-nausea properties as well.’ He waited until Theo had swallowed the pill, then said, ‘It’s lucky you managed to get to the phone.’

‘I’m surprised I did.’ Theo had half crawled to the kitchen after his assailant ran out, praying he did not black out again, praying the intruder would not return, and had managed to phone the police and then Michael Innes.

‘How long will the police be?’ asked Innes. ‘Are they coming from Loddon?’

‘They’re getting a CID man to come out. I’m not sure where from. I don’t think Loddon has a CID division. It didn’t sound as if it would be too long, though.’

‘Would you like me to stay here until they arrive?’

‘In case that bastard comes back to finish me off?’

‘Yes. It would probably be good if I monitor you for the next hour anyway.’

‘Then please stay,’ said Theo gratefully. ‘Even if it’s only to tell the police that in your professional opinion I’m relatively sane and not given to hallucinations about intruders.’

‘There’s nothing hallucinatory about that blow on your head. You’d better have some more ice for it – no, don’t move, I can find the fridge.’

‘I suppose,’ said Theo, as Innes returned with the ice cubes, ‘that I can’t have a whisky?’

‘Not for twenty-four hours at least. Sorry.’

‘I thought not.’

The police arrived several minutes later, headed by a very young CID sergeant who introduced himself as DS Gavin Leigh, and a largish uniformed constable who was despatched to examine the doors and windows. DS Leigh listened carefully to the details of the attack, and to Theo’s description of how someone had seemed to be prowling around a few days earlier. Theo omitted to mention the wound-up clock and the teleported rose, because he had no proof of either incident and it would not help his case if the police or Michael Innes thought he was mad. He kept the laptop confession quiet as well, because while that was proof positive, the police might wonder if he had typed it himself.

‘We need to find out how your intruder got in,’ said Leigh. ‘But I’m bound to say it doesn’t seem like a break-in.’

‘It wasn’t a break-in,’ said Theo. ‘He was waiting in the house when I got back.’

‘In that case— Yes?’ He turned as the large constable came back.

‘No signs of a break-in anywhere as far as I can see, Sergeant.’

‘Ah. Check the gardens as well. It looks as if you were right, Mr Kendal,’ said Leigh, turning back. ‘He got in with a key.’

‘He can’t have done,’ said Theo. ‘I had the locks changed a couple of days ago – the morning after I thought there was someone prowling round.’

‘Sensible of you. Better safe than sorry,’ said Leigh, making a note of the local firm who had done the work.

‘That’s what I thought. I didn’t report the prowler because I wasn’t certain about it. I thought it might be just a local snooper, or even a stray newshound looking for a new angle on my cousin’s murder.’

‘There were,’ observed Innes dryly, ‘enough of them at the time.’

‘There were indeed,’ agreed Leigh. ‘Well, we’ll make a few enquiries among the local bad boys and I’ll have a word with one or two news editors, in case a journalist’s getting a bit above himself. And we’ll talk to the locksmith in the morning as well, although he’s kept a handyman shop in Melbray ever since anyone can remember and he inherited it from his father. Very reliable set-up. Still, we’ll make sure nobody could have got an extra key cut without him knowing. That means you’re the only one with a key, then?’

‘Yes – no, hold on, I gave a spare key to my cousin this morning,’ said Theo, suddenly remembering. ‘She didn’t actually need it in the end, but she didn’t give it back. I’d forgotten it until now.’ He looked at the clock and saw it was just after half past seven.

‘Will she be home yet?’ said Leigh.

‘She might be just about – it depends on the Tube.’

‘Would you call her, so we can check that other key is where we think it is.’

But Lesley’s phone was on answerphone, and when Theo tried her mobile it went straight to voicemail. He left messages on both, merely saying he was making sure she had got back all right, and asking her to call him.