Murder in Bloom (35 page)

‘A landslide? What are you talking about, Ma? Look we’ll be back when we’ve picked up this stuff. Katie gave Mog a message from Lewis when he arrived. Don’t know where Lewis has gone, but he wanted to look into the cellars with us, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, and I think I’ve found them,’ said Libby. ‘But I don’t want to go down there on my own. I’ll go back inside and make myself some tea.’

However, after she’d rung off, she changed her mind. Fetching her torch from the glove compartment of the Renault, she set off down to the ha-ha and made her way to the opening of the tunnel where she’d found the document case.

‘This isn’t stupid,’ she told herself. ‘This tunnel is perfectly safe. The police have checked it out.’ She flashed the torch to the left and right and saw large well-rounded tunnel roofs that looked solid. ‘Towards the house,’ she said loudly, in case there was anyone around, and set off.

The tunnel was much lighter than she had anticipated, running fairly straight, slightly uphill towards the house, the opening under the ha-ha still visible if she looked back. It wasn’t until she was a good way along that she realised there was also light coming from ahead.

‘Odd,’ she muttered. ‘The police said there was no opening at all this end.’ And her heart gave a leap.

‘The stairwell,’ she gasped, ‘it must be.’

As she drew nearer she could see that it was the set of steps she had discovered only half an hour earlier. And that there was another door just beyond the steps. And it was open.

Libby froze. Now what? What would she find beyond that door? Nothing, she thought, because she wasn’t going to look. She just wished she was back in the kitchen with Katie making her a cup of tea.

Why hadn’t she stayed there? Katie wouldn’t have been long. Or even Edie. She must be around somewhere.

She began to walk stealthily backwards, cursing herself for being a fool. ‘I said don’t be a stupid heroine,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Now look what’s happened.’

Not daring to turn her back on the open door, she continued to walk backwards until the opening under the ha-ha was only feet away, when she turned and ran. Out in the open, she made for the bench where she’d sat with Lewis, collapsed on to it and rang Adam again. Between panting breaths she told him what had happened.

‘OK, Ma, just stay put. We’re coming back right now,’ said Adam firmly. ‘Has Lewis turned up yet?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Libby, her stomach doing a rather nasty swoop. ‘Do I have to look?’

‘Have you tried ringing him?’

‘No, have you?’

‘Yes, we did, but his phone was off,’ said Adam, sounding rather more perturbed. ‘You just stay there, and we’ll be right over. Ten minutes tops.’

‘OK,’ said Libby and turned back to the house. She shivered involuntarily and wondered whether to go and risk making herself a cup of tea, or to go and sit in the car. The car won, partly because she was fairly convinced there was a rogue packet of cigarettes lurking in the door pocket.

However, as she got to the drive she saw Katie waving from the house.

‘Where did you get to?’ she asked. ‘I thought something had happened to you. I heard this crashing noise and when I came down to look you’d gone. I thought you were underneath all that rubble.’ She put a hand to her chest and Libby saw how pale she was.

‘I’m sorry to worry you,’ she said. ‘I came looking for you, too. How did we miss each other?’

Katie shook her head. ‘I’ve put the kettle on,’ she said. ‘Come and have a cuppa.’

‘I phoned the boys,’ said Libby, hovering by the door. ‘They’re coming right away. They said you gave them a message.’

‘Yes, Lewis wanted them to pick something up from Nethergate.’ Katie put out mugs.

‘Did you see him this morning?’ asked Libby.

‘No, he left me a note.’ Katie looked up, alarm in her face. ‘Why? Do you think something’s happened to him now?’

Libby wasn’t sure what she thought, but she gave Katie a wobbly smile and said she was sure nothing had.

‘I’m going to ring him now,’ said Katie and went to the house phone on the wall. He won’t answer, thought Libby, and sure enough, after a few minutes Katie tutted and put the phone back on its rest.

‘He’s got his blasted phone turned off,’ she said, going to pour boiling water into the teapot. ‘Where’s the perishing boy got to?’

Libby’s mind was racing like a hamster in a wheel. If only Fran was there.

‘Katie,’ she said carefully, ‘where’s Edie?’

‘Upstairs,’ said Katie, stirring the pot. ‘I was with her when we heard your crash. I’ll take her a cup of this.’ ‘I would,’ said Libby, thinking, with a sinking

feeling, of the small woman who adored her son.

‘Or do you want to take it up to her? Make a change from me?’ said Katie pouring tea into three mugs.

‘No, thanks, she knows you better,’ said Libby. Katie gave her an odd look, shrugged and picked up a mug. ‘Won’t be a mo,’ she said. ‘Help yourself to biscuits.’ She waved at the plate on the table and disappeared towards the main stairs.

Libby sat very still, wondering if she should call Fran, or the police, or even Adam again. She realised with some surprise she hadn’t once thought of calling Ben.

The house was very quiet. She wondered what would happen about the ruined staircase and whether it would be worth restoring it. And of course, the cellars below. If they were intact. Her mind began to wander to the other putative tunnels and the business of smuggling. Had Gerald known about the tunnels? And what if he had? Had Tony? Had he told Lewis?

Libby shivered again and sat up straighter, clasping both hands round her mug and wishing Katie would come back. Then, to her relief, the sound of a car on the gravelled drive. Mog and Adam had arrived.

But there were no voices. Only footsteps on the gravel, coming towards the door. They paused, and Libby bit her lip. Perspiration sprung out on along her hairline and her upper lip and her heart was beating so fast she thought she might faint. And then the footstep behind her and the hand on her shoulder.

‘Hello, Lib,’ said Lewis.

Chapter Thirty-five

‘LEWIS,’ SAID LIBBY FROM a dry mouth. ‘Where have you been?’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Didn’t Katie tell you?’

Libby shook her head, afraid she would never be able to speak again. She remembered Ben telling Lewis about how much trouble she’d been in during other investigations and how horrified he’d seemed. And how fond of him she’d become. She closed her eyes for a moment to try and calm her brain, but it was no good. The hamster wheel was back.

‘Libby, you look awful.’ Lewis moved round the table and sat down in Katie’s chair, feeling the teapot. ‘Still warm. Where’s Katie?’

No point in not telling him, thought Libby. ‘With your mum,’ she said.

‘Right. Well, I’ll pop up and see them,’ he said, ‘unless I can do anything for you? You look buggered, girl. What’ve you been doing?’

‘Nothing,’ croaked Libby, hoping against hope to hear the sounds of another car on the drive.

‘OK.’ Lewis shrugged. ‘I’ll just pop upstairs, then.’ And he was gone.

Libby realised she was covered in cold perspiration and that she’d been holding her breath. Even her shoulders ached with tension. She tried to relax and attempted a sip of her rapidly cooling tea. She spilt it. Then she heard footsteps on the stairs. Swallowing hard, she turned towards the door, repeating in her head like a mantra “Adam and Mog will be here soon, Adam and Mog will be here soon.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief as Katie came back into the kitchen.

‘You all right?’ Libby asked through still dry lips.

Katie sat down and shook her head.

‘No,’ she said.

‘Lewis?’ whispered Libby.

‘He’s back,’ said Katie. She stood up again. ‘Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.’

Libby stood up. ‘Will he – he’s with his mum?’

‘They’re fine,’ said Katie wearily. ‘Come on. You might as well see this.’

Libby followed her out of the kitchen and across to the door, still slightly ajar as Libby had seen it earlier.

‘Sit down,’ said Katie, going to a cupboard by the side of the small fireplace, which held an equally small gas fire. She took out a large scrapbook and what looked like a photograph album. ‘I hoped no one would ever have to see these,’ she said, ‘but there’s no hope for it now.’

Libby watched as Katie pulled up a small table and sat down beside it. ‘There,’ she said. ‘Now you’ll know all about it.’

‘About Lewis?’ asked Libby.

‘Lewis?’ Katie frowned. ‘Why should it be about Lewis?’

‘Because –’ Libby stopped as her heart once again performed a somersault. ‘Who, then?’

‘Who? Gerald, of course,’ said Katie.

Libby looked down at the album and tried to sort out her thoughts. She was staring at a family group: a young man, hardly more than a boy, a girl of the same age and a baby, about six months old. They were a happy, laughing group, the baby wearing a brimmed hat which could have denoted either sex. Not wanting to comment, she turned the page. And now the picture was similar to the group of young people on a beach Fran had found in the solar. Libby kept her eyes on the page and tried to think of something to say.

A movement from Katie made her look up. As she did so, Katie’s hand came up to cover her mouth, while her eyes stared over Libby’s shoulder.

‘That’s where it was after all, then, Katie,’ said Lewis. Libby didn’t turn round but heard him come round the table. He looked down at Katie. ‘Look, Lib,’ he said. ‘Just look.’

‘At what?’ said Libby.

‘Behind you.’

Libby half turned in her chair and found herself staring into a black void where a section of panelling had swung open revealing stout locks on the inside. Libby turned back to Katie, bewildered.

‘What is it?’ she asked. She looked up at Lewis. ‘Is it the strong room?’

‘Looks like it,’ he said, still looking at Katie. ‘It is, isn’t it, Katie?’

Katie took her hands from her mouth and nodded.

‘And this?’ Libby turned the page back to the photograph of the little family. ‘Is this you?’

Katie nodded again.

‘With Gerald,’ said Libby.

‘And our son,’ said Katie. ‘Tony.’

Silence fell in the little room. Both Lewis and Libby watched as Katie took the album and began turning the pages. Eventually she looked up.

‘You guessed, didn’t you?’ she said to Lewis. ‘Just now, upstairs with your mum.’

Lewis nodded. ‘And then I had a message on my phone from Adam,’ he said, ‘telling me that there was an opening at the end of the tunnel that Libby had found. If I got here before he did I should check if you were all right. So I came along the tunnel and here I am.’

‘Cindy?’ Libby’s voice cracked.

‘I don’t know.’ He turned back to Katie. ‘Tell us, Katie.’

‘I was going to tell Libby. That’s why I got these out.’ She gestured towards the album and scrapbook.

‘I was only seventeen,’ she said, addressing Libby. ‘Gerry was twenty and still at his acting school.’

‘RADA,’ put in Lewis.

‘Yes. Well, these things happen, and I had a little boy. Anthony we called him. But we talked about it and decided it wouldn’t be good for Gerry to saddle himself with a wife and family then. It was at the beginning of the sixties, see, and there were all sorts of opportunities, he felt.’

‘What about you, though? It was really hard for an unmarried mother in those days,’ said Libby.

‘Oh, I was all right. My old mum was a good sort and my dad had long since gone, so we all stayed together and faced down the neighbours. Gerry sent what money he could and I trained to be a shorthand typist. Tony grew up with me and my mum and I don’t think he wanted for nothing. Gerry stayed in touch but didn’t come to see us.’ She paused, looking again at the photographs. ‘Then one day he phones and says would Tony like to meet him. Tony’s about twenty himself now. So off he goes and from then on Gerry introduces him to people – not as his son, of course – who can help him in his career.’

She shrugged. ‘Well, you know the rest. Tony made himself into a businessman and he helped me get into the outside catering business, Gerry helped me get into the OB business and then – well, then young Kenneth married that little tart.’

‘She didn’t look like a tart,’ ventured Libby.

‘Huh! You should have seen her a few years ago. Showed everything she’d got and that much make-up you wouldn’t believe. This time, she comes round looking like butter wouldn’t melt. I could hardly believe it myself.’ Katie stopped, a brooding expression on her face.

‘When did you first see her?’ asked Libby.

‘This time? When I got back here and she was in the kitchen. Gawd, I was livid.’

‘Why were you so livid?’

‘Because I knew what had happened three years ago, and I’d kept quiet for Gerry and Tony. And here she was going to stir it all up again.’

‘But they’d already dug up the skeleton,’ said Lewis. ‘It was already stirred up.’

‘And I’d said nothing, had I? Nothing to be gained, I thought. Then I gave the police Gerry’s scarf. I thought it would just prove the skeleton wasn’t him, I didn’t realise it would prove it was Kenneth.’