The Haunted Lady (7 page)

Almost simultaneously, we saw the gallery disgorge several art lovers who emerged in what I could only describe as a disorganised rabble, their faces registering shock, fear and horror in equal measure. Among the leaders of the pack was the owner of a café in the town whom I knew slightly. I managed to detain him by grasping his arm to ask him what was wrong.

‘There’s a body,’ he gasped. ‘A dead body. In the fountain. There’s blood everywhere.’ Having imparted this dreadful news, he set off to join the others.

In the shocked silence that followed I heard the voice of David Kershaw nearby. ‘Time to go, I think. Valerie, Chloe, come along.’ His tone didn’t invite argument or even discussion. As they moved outside I noticed Johnny heading for the main entrance; his obvious intention was to stop anyone else from leaving. He signalled to us to join him. He looked very upset, to put it mildly. We made our way over.

‘I was wrong,’ he told us bluntly. ‘Casper was here, but somebody stuck a knife in him. He didn’t deserve that. He might have been a rogue, but there was no harm in him. Casper was too gentle, wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

‘Someone told us he was in the fountain, is that right?’

Johnny nodded as he announced, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, could I have your attention, please? I am Constable Pickersgill and I ask that you all remain where you are until my colleagues arrive. We will not detain you longer than necessary.’ He turned to me. ‘Holmes wants you to go inside, if you wouldn’t mind.’ He looked at Eve as if wondering whether she would object, but she’s made of sterner stuff. Besides which, she’d seen far worse. ‘I’ll join you in a minute,’ he added, ‘if I can find a replacement sentry for this exit. I’ll see if Uncle Tom will help me out.’

We made our way through into the gallery, threading our way through the guests. Some stood open-mouthed and gawping while others stood in small groups muttering to each other and casting sidelong glances through the window. The ornamental fountain was in the middle of the lawns that formed the centrepiece of the gardens to the rear of the art gallery. That placed it directly opposite the large plate glass windows that had been designed to allow as much natural light as possible into the building. The fountain re-used the water from the pond at its base and the enclosed recycling system had one drawback that even the most far-sighted designer could not have foreseen. In other circumstances the pink rainbow effect might have appeared attractive. It was certainly eye-catching, but knowledge of what the hue comprised, and the sight of the victim’s lifeless body lying face down in the basin, made me shudder. I was still coming to terms with the horrifying scene when Johnny arrived and began ushering the onlookers through into the foyer.

DS Holmes was elsewhere, presumably on the phone making a string of calls, when Eve said, ‘The gallery must have been a hive of activity prior to today’s event so it seems unlikely the killing took place in here, or during daylight with so many people about.’

I backed up her theory. ‘Yes, if the victim had been killed in here, the killer would have to take the body outside and drop it in the fountain. I can’t see any sign of drag marks or blood on the floor. If he’d been dead before he hit the fountain, the heart would have stopped pumping and that amount of blood ...’ – I pointed to the spray – ‘... would not have been as visible.’

Johnny was still pondering the implication of my comments when Holmes joined us. ‘Sorry, I had to find a phone. I’ve had to summon forensics and notify my superiors.’ While he was talking, Holmes left the gallery, returning almost immediately with a pile of stacking chairs. He placed them across the archway. ‘I daren’t risk some over-zealous cleaner wiping any evidence away,’ he explained.

‘I hope that asking us in here isn’t some sneaky way of inveigling us to become involved in your investigation,’ I told him, ‘because I thought we’d made it clear the other day that we wanted some time to ourselves.’

‘I simply thought it would be useful to have the benefit of your combined experience. You’ve seen more crime scenes than either Johnny or me. In fact, the only murder sites I’ve been to are the ones you were involved in. I wanted to ensure we didn’t miss anything important.’

Holmes’ remarks led naturally into Johnny bringing him up to speed with Eve’s and my comments, which in itself more or less confirmed the sense in his decision to ask us to check the site over.

‘That seems to point to it having taken place during the night. I reckon we’ll have to wait for the pathologist to give us an estimate of the time of death,’ he said.

‘That might not be as straightforward as it sounds,’ I pointed out, ‘because of the time the body has been immersed in water, and the possible temperature variations. Getting an accurate time of death could be difficult, if not impossible.’

‘The other interesting question is why was he murdered? Was he trying to break in or did he perhaps foil an attempted robbery?’ Eve commented. ‘You need to check if an alarm system was active, and if so, why didn’t it go off if there was an attempt at intrusion. I imagine there must be an alarm given the value of many of the exhibits in here.’

‘You’ve certainly given us lots to think about.’

Holmes’ reply encompassed us both, but it had been Eve who had come up with all the ideas.

As he was speaking, two constables arrived and, at the sergeant’s instruction, began taking the details of the guests before allowing them to leave. I realised at that point that some of them were obviously not as disturbed by the incident as was first implied. They couldn’t have been – they had finished off the gateau.

When the first of the forensic officers arrived, Eve and I took the excuse to leave. We promised to contact Holmes or Johnny if we had any further ideas and went outside. The area in front of the museum that had been crowded only a short time earlier was now all but deserted. The only remaining members of the audience were one or two officials and several people whose morbid curiosity lent more excitement to the occasion than they could have hoped for.

Eve pointed to our left, where a somewhat forlorn figure was standing.

Not only was Michael bereft of his fiancée’s company, but even his mother seemed to have deserted him. Despite that, I doubted whether his solitude was the reason for his downcast appearance.

‘Mother has returned to the vicarage,’ he told us in answer to Eve’s question. ‘News of the discovery of another body quite unnerved her, so I lent her my car, because I wanted to have a word with you. I said I would call her from the phone box when I was ready to go back to Elmfield.’

He paused and took a deep breath before adding, ‘Chloe wants to break off our engagement because she says it is unfair to hold me to it when we can’t get married.’

That explained his glum expression. I judged the time was ripe for a little robust but friendly advice. ‘I hope you refuted the suggestion and told her you were not prepared to release her from the promise she made.’

‘I didn’t have time to answer her. Before I could say anything, her aunt and uncle whisked her off to Elmfield Grange. All I could do was to say that I would meet her there later.’

He was right, I reflected, Kershaw and his wife hadn’t hung around once the news of the murder became known. Was that significant? I concentrated on Michael, who still didn’t seem too hopeful of being able to resolve the problem with Chloe. ‘I suggest you tell her straight that you refuse to accept her decision. These things never run smoothly. Tell her if all else fails you’ll abduct her and hold her prisoner until she agrees to your demands.’

Eve added, ‘Adam is right, the course of true love is beset with problems. I had no end of difficulty getting Adam to the altar. I had to help him solve a string of murders and all but force myself on him before he agreed to don a suit and walk down the aisle.’

That made him smile, so I seized the chance to make a suggestion. ‘Why don’t we take you back to the vicarage? That will save your mother having to come back into town specially, and give her chance to put the kettle on. When we get there you could phone Elmfield Grange and we could take you there this afternoon. We could distract Kershaw and his wife, which would give you opportunity to talk to Chloe on your own. The rest is up to your powers of persuasion.’

‘I think that’s a great idea, Adam,’ Eve approved. ‘What do you say, Michael?’

‘I agree, and thank you both. Anything’s worth a try.’

We waited for Michael to phone his mother about the change of plan. I reflected that Dinsdale, like many rural areas, had not suffered like bigger towns and cities, where phone boxes regularly fell victim to the attack of vandals. Then I thought of the crime scene we had just left and revised my opinion.

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O
n our way out of Dinsdale, Michael asked me to slow down as I approached the parish church. ‘There’s something I’d like to show you before we go to the vicarage.’

‘Can we have a look inside the church?’ I asked, partly as a distraction for Michael from his woes, but also because I was more than a little curious about the apparition said to frequent the Lady chapel.

‘That was what I had in mind,’ Michael agreed. ‘If you turn right down that lane there are plenty of parking spaces.’

Although I had passed Dinsdale Parish Church many times, I had never examined the building closely, merely registering the fact that it was a cruciform church and from a glance seemed fairly ancient. As I pulled into a space opposite the lych-gate leading to the graveyard, Michael filled us in with a little background information.

‘There has been a place of worship on this site since Saxon times.’

His voice registered more enthusiasm than I had heard from him previously, except perhaps when he was referring to Chloe. ‘The original building is believed to have been a wooden construction, but of course this one is much larger.’

‘I can’t say that surprises me,’ Eve retorted, ‘this one is more like a young cathedral.’

As we got out of the car I had chance to inspect the building. Eve was quite correct, it was certainly very impressive.

‘It is a little on the grandiose side, admittedly,’ Michael replied, ‘but that’s down to the wishes of the benefactor. A case of “he who pays the piper calls the tune”. However, if you ever get the chance to drive through rural Norfolk you’ll see quite a number of even larger churches than this, all serving small village communities. Even if all the parishioners went to the services – which is almost unheard of these days – they’d never fill those churches.’

Distracting him from a prospective sermon on the present day’s godless society, I asked when the building dated from.

‘Construction work started during the first decade of the twelfth century, although it took a long time to finish it. It was completed to the order of the lady of the manor, Lady Mary Beaumont, widow of Sir Thomas Beaumont. Both she and her husband were Normans, of course, and it is believed that she influenced the design of the building, the conditions attached to it, and the dedication of the church to St Mary Magdalene.’

‘What do you mean about “the conditions attached to it”?’ Eve asked.

‘One of the stipulations in Lady Mary’s bequest was that part of the transept should be devoted to a Lady chapel, which would be both a place of worship and sanctuary for female parishioners.’

I could tell that the vicar had mounted his hobby horse and was about to set off at a brisk gallop.

‘It sounds as if Lady Mary was an early feminist,’ I said.

Michael laughed. ‘You could say that. It’s interesting that some local rumours suggest that the supposed apparition could be the ghost of Lady Mary inspecting the building she had paid so handsomely towards. Other stories are of a somewhat ... darker nature.’

We waited for him to elaborate, but to our surprise he failed to do so. By then we had crossed the churchyard, which was enclosed by a ring of ancient yew trees, the trunks of which were several feet in diameter. As we stood in the entrance to the porch waiting for the vicar to open the door, I glanced back. The grassed churchyard was immaculately kept. This must have been no simple task given the number of stones marking the burial places of former parishioners.

Michael removed a large key from his pocket and fitted into the lock on one side of the heavy, studded oak door. We followed him into the church and, as we entered the building, the first thing I noticed was the drop in temperature. It was a hot day outside, but inside the church was an oasis of coolness.

Looking across the nave, I saw a hatchment bearing a coat of arms. As this was in stone, I guessed it to be that of the church’s patron. I glanced towards the chancel, where the nave was flanked by huge stone pillars that rose to support an arch-beam roof. The craftsmanship was superb and must have taken many hours of patient labour. Both arms of the transept were separated from the nave by elaborately carved wooden screens that rose to the roof. Eve gestured towards them. ‘Those screens are magnificent.’

‘They’re called parcloses,’ I informed her.

‘That’s right,’ Michael confirmed, eyeing me with approval. ‘Do you know a bit about church architecture, Adam?’

‘Don’t encourage him,’ Eve muttered.

It was enough of a challenge to be irresistible. ‘I know about flying buttresses, castellated battlements, ashlars, quoins and fan vaults,’ I said with a touch of smugness. ‘I had a teacher who was a bit of a fanatic.’

‘I did try to warn you,’ Eve told the vicar. ‘Adam loves airing his knowledge, but all that really means is that there was one lesson he didn’t sleep through.’

Eve can always be relied upon to bring me down to earth – usually with a bump.

Michael signalled to his left, towards the north wing of the building. ‘That screen divides the nave from the Lady chapel. The other transept is used for small events these days, bible studies, confirmation classes and so forth. However, we stay true to Lady Mary’s wishes and the chapel is still reserved for female parishioners to use. It is inside the Lady chapel that the apparitions have been seen.’ He paused and added with a smile, ‘Before you ask, none of those who witnessed the figure had been at the communion wine beforehand.’