Walking Into Murder (10 page)

“But if they found out, wouldn’t Buddy or Morris go there too?”

“No way,” Catherine’s grin was triumphant. “They’re too scared.”

“Scared of Nigel’s father? Or the groom?”

“Nope, of the dogs. They’re big, I mean really big, and they patrol the place at night,” Catherine explained with a grin, and went back to her ice cream.

Catherine was delighted with the quaint B&B when they arrived. She ate ravenously of the small cakes provided for them and laughed happily when Laura explained that if she pulled on the string hanging by the bathroom door, the shower would produce marvelously hot water in which she could luxuriate for as long as she liked. Then she sank down with an ecstatic sigh onto one of the twin beds.

“I haven’t been on one of these for ages,” she exclaimed, and when Laura looked over at her again, she was fast asleep.

Laura took a turn in the shower; then she settled on her bed and tried to decide what to do next. Nothing seemed to make sense to her now – not the body or the missing cook, not Nigel and his masks, not Antonia and her car or Thomas and the big bruise he had acquired. It was all just too complicated. Sighing, she let her eyes close.

She woke suddenly, aware that it was getting dark and that she had forgotten something. The phone; that was it. Thomas had said to call if they hadn’t heard from him by seven, and it was already seven-thirty.

Laura dialed the number for Torrington Manor. A voice she didn’t recognize told her that Mr. Smith had left, that they had no idea where he had gone and didn’t have a forwarding number for him. She asked for Lord Torrington or the Baroness next and was told that Lord Torrington had gone away for a few days, taking Nigel with him, and the Baroness was out at the moment.

Laura’s attention was diverted by Catherine. She was sitting bolt upright in bed, lips trembling. Tears were welling up in her eyes.

“Thank you for trying,” Laura said quickly, and hung up. “What is it, Catherine?” she asked in concern. “What’s the matter?”

“He didn’t come here to look for me, like he said,” Catherine replied angrily, struggling to suppress the tears. “I thought he had but he didn’t.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because he only uses the name Smith when he’s on a job,” Catherine hissed. “His real last name is Langley. So he came on an art job, not for me. I should have known when I saw that bruise, but I didn’t want it to be true.”

I have three names,
Laura remembered Thomas telling her.
Thomas, Langley and Smith.
He hadn’t exactly been lying, she supposed.

“Maybe he is on a job, but he was looking for you, too,” she assured Catherine. “I know it’s true because he told me while you were in the bathroom. He was frantic to find you after he heard where you were.”

The words seemed to comfort Catherine, and her anger turned to fear. “He hasn’t called,” she said anxiously. “It’s way past seven and he hasn’t called.”

“Does he usually call when he says he will?”

“Always, unless he’s in some kind of trouble, like his car broke down or some case gets really weird. That happens sometimes.”

Laura sat back against the headboard and tried to think clearly. It was certainly possible that Thomas was in trouble. His room probably had been searched, and whoever had given him that bruise might have tried to silence him more permanently.

There was only one way to know for sure, she realized, and that was to go back to Torrington Manor and find out.

She turned to Catherine, who was watching her carefully. “I have to go out for a while,” Laura said, keeping her voice neutral. “Why don’t you just relax and go back to sleep, call for some food if you want -”

She got no further. “No way,” Catherine said defiantly.

Laura stared at her, startled. Catherine’s tears had dried up, and her face wore a look of steely determination. “There is no way I will stay here,” Catherine repeated emphatically. “I can tell you’re worried about my father and are going to look for him. I’m coming with you. If you don’t let me, I’ll look for him by myself.”

Laura considered. Catherine clearly wasn’t going to stay here, and she was more likely to get into trouble looking for Thomas on her own. If she came along, she could at least be watched.

“All right,” she agreed. “You can come. In fact, I’ll be glad to have you.”

Catherine grinned triumphantly. “Lead on,” she said, grabbing her jacket and swinging it twice around her head. “Lead on and I shall follow!”

Laura grinned back. “What do you say to a spot of housebreaking?” she asked, grabbing her own jacket and slinging her pack on her back. “Or manor breaking, I guess I should say.”

CHAPTER NINE

Laura consulted her map. It was torn and smudged from so much intense use but she managed to pick out a pub that wasn’t too far from Torrington Manor. A cab could take them that far, they could get some food and then walk the rest of the way.

The pub was satisfyingly dim and smoke-blackened. They ordered a platter of bread and cheese and more tea and hot chocolate. They ate quickly; then, feeling like a pair of conspirators, they set off on foot along a narrow country road that Laura knew would soon intersect with the lane leading to the manor. The sky was completely dark now, and no lights showed anywhere around them. They almost missed their turning but at the right moment a car came by. Its headlights showed a one-lane track rising steeply on the left. Trees and vine-encrusted bushes on both sides made it even harder to see, and they kept stumbling over unexpected obstacles as they climbed. Laura switched on her flashlight and saw with relief that they were almost up. She switched it off again quickly, lest someone see. She was just in time.

“A car,” Catherine whispered as they reached the top of the hill, and Laura heard the sound of an engine laboring up behind them. Headlights appeared around a curve, and they ducked behind the bushes. The vehicle crested the hill and sped down the other side, going much too fast for the twisting, narrow lane. It hit the deep hollow at the bottom of the hill with a wrenching bounce and a heavy splash. It slowed briefly, but picked up speed again and disappeared around a sharp bend in the road.

Not a car but a delivery van. Laura was surprised. Why was a van speeding down the lane to Torrington Manor at this time of night? The lane went nowhere else, so it must be going to the manor.

The question vanished from her mind when they reached the hollow and saw that it was still underwater. Laura had no idea how deep it was. Did she dare risk the light again to find a way across?

“Over here,” Catherine murmured. “Not as deep.” She must have eyes like an owl’s, Laura thought with envy, ears as well. Catherine had heard the car well before she had. Maybe camping in the woods had sharpened her senses. Or maybe it was just youth. Laura sighed. Age didn’t come in an onslaught; it crept upon one with tiny changes that were barely noticed until younger people made the deficits impossible to ignore.

Water sloshed around their feet as they waded through but didn’t come over the top of their boots. Laura was grateful. Wet feet all night held no appeal. They climbed another shorter hill, went around the bend, and saw the manor ahead. It was the first time Laura had seen it from a distance, and she was impressed by its bulk. The large central portion of the house was flanked by two long wings, and at the end of each wing was a high round turret. Lights shone in one of the turrets and a few windows.

“I wish Nigel was here to help,” Catherine whispered. “You said he’d gone with his father. I hope they aren’t at that horrible school. Nigel would go crazy there.”

“I doubt he could be made to stay,” Laura whispered back. “We’ll find out about that later but right now we’ve got to decide what to do next. Maybe we could go to the edge of the lawns behind the house, hide in the trees there, and watch for a while. We might see your father through one of the windows.”

“Okay,” Catherine agreed. Together, they crept up the rest of the lane and slithered into the woods beyond the house. Laura made out the dim outline of the barn where she had seen Thomas and Antonia, and beyond it the stable.

Abruptly, she remembered the dogs. “What about the dogs?” she asked with a flicker of alarm. “They might give us away if they’re out.”

“Leave them to me,” Catherine said confidently. “They might still be in their run beyond the barn, but usually they’re let out as soon as it’s dark to guard the place. I’ll go see.”

She was gone before Laura could object. One short bark interrupted the stillness; then frantic yipping, and then whining sounds of joy. Catherine reappeared out of the gloom. Two huge dogs pranced behind her. They looked more like ponies than dogs, and Laura stepped back a pace. Great Danes, she thought but wasn’t sure.

“This is Laura,” Catherine told the dogs sternly. “Laura is a friend, so you mustn’t growl at her.”

She turned to Laura. “Hold out your hand,” she instructed in a low voice. “Let them sniff all they want. They’re big babies, really. All they want is love. And food.” She placed a hunk of bread into Laura’s hand as the dogs sniffed eagerly. One of them took the bread delicately, wagging its tail in appreciation; Catherine supplied another hunk and the second dog repeated the maneuver.

“They’re very polite,” Laura observed. “Are they always this nice?”

Catherine laughed softly. “No. They can scare people half to death. The guys in the woods and most of the locals won’t come near them. Still, once you get to know them they’re okay. They slept with me in the stable every night, so they got to know me pretty well. Anyway, dogs like me; I’m not sure why, but they always have.”

“No doubt hunks of bread help,” Laura said dryly.

Catherine grinned. “All animals like a treat,” she replied, “so I always keep one handy. I grabbed a few extra pieces at the pub, just in case.

“Good boy, Jasper, good girl, Lucy,” she praised, as the dogs snuffled at Laura’s hands to see if more bread would materialize. “No more now, and we have to stay here very quietly and watch.”

The dogs seemed to understand because they sat down nearby, their great heads resting on their paws, but Laura was certain they were very alert. Their ears were pointed up and turned from time to time as they caught a sound, and their noses quivered eagerly.

One of them whined suddenly, a soft whine that seemed to Laura to signify distress, as if they wanted to explore a sound or scent but weren’t sure they ought to.

Catherine turned to them. “All right,” she said softly. “Go see.” The dogs sprang up and disappeared into the darkness.

“The van again,” Catherine whispered. “That’s what they heard. It’s coming back here. Must have been at the front of the house.”

Laura nodded. She heard it too, the van backing up and turning on the gravel drive. It came slowly around the side of the house. The dogs ran beside it eagerly.

To their astonishment, Morris emerged. The dogs stalked toward him, growling low in their throats. “They hate him,” Catherine whispered. “I never worry about Morris when I’m in the stable. He won’t come near me.”

Morris edged toward the back door. “Damn!” he said. “Get away from me, you brutes!” The dogs advanced, their growls louder now, and he leaped back into the van. With a furious squeal of tires, he propelled it closer to the back of the manor. In response, a door opened, emitting a flood of light. Antonia started to come out but retreated quickly when she saw the dogs.

“I told you not to let them out,” Morris hissed at her.

“I didn’t,” she said, watching them fearfully. “Maybe the latch came undone.”

Laura glanced at Catherine, who was grinning widely. “I let them out,” she murmured. “I thought they might come in handy.”

“Well, throw them some food so I can get in,” Morris snapped at Antonia. “And make sure you throw it well away from the door.”

Antonia complied, but her aim was imperfect, and the dogs were snapping at his heels before Morris got to the door. He closed it hard in their faces, and Laura heard the faint sound of a key turning in the lock. With a last threatening bark, the dogs turned to the food. When they had gobbled it all up, they trotted back to Catherine, looking very pleased with their performance. Catherine was pleased too and praised them lavishly.

“I wish we could hear what they’re saying,” Laura murmured. “Maybe Morris is in on this, too, whatever it is your father is investigating.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Catherine answered. “If you’ll wait here for a minute, I’ll get us in.”

Laura was astonished. “But how? I heard Morris lock the door. And we can’t get in the front way because the butler will give us away. He’s automatic.”

“Not to worry,” Catherine assured her. “See that window up there?” She pointed at the end window on the second floor. “That’s Nigel’s room. He told me if there was ever an emergency to come in that way. There’s a trellis, and lots of vines and stuff. It’s perfectly safe. I’ll go up and then sneak downstairs and open the back door for you.”

“The window looks very high, and Morris is inside,” Laura objected, but Catherine had already reached the trellis. The dogs loped after her eagerly.

“Stay,” she told them in a stern whisper, and began to scramble up the trellis with the ease of a monkey. Laura watched, torn between admiration and anxiety. Catherine disappeared over the window ledge. Visions of Morris confronting the girl flew through Laura’s mind. She shuddered, and had almost made up her mind to knock boldly at the back door when it opened.

Catherine beckoned. “All clear,” she hissed. “They’re in the drawing room.”

Laura hesitated again, wondering if it was irresponsible to go on with this crazy escapade, especially if it endangered Catherine, but curiosity and concern about what had happened to Thomas won her over. She just had to make sure neither of them was seen. She slid inside.

“Not yet,” Catherine told the dogs as they trotted hopefully to the door. “I’ll let you in later.” Their tails went down in disappointment, but they obeyed and sat down outside the door to wait. Morris would get a nasty surprise when he came out again, Laura thought with satisfaction.

“We can hide in the hall just outside the drawing room,” she said softly. “It has long curtains and we can stand behind them.”

Noiselessly, they crept through the kitchen area and along a passage to a door that Laura thought must open into the front hall. She was right, she saw with relief as they opened it cautiously. They heard Antonia’s voice and slid behind the thick curtains. They were very dusty, and Laura concentrated on trying not to sneeze.

“I wish you’d leave, Morris,” Antonia was saying, with more spirit than Laura had expected from her. “You know Bark doesn’t want you here.”

“And when your lord and master speaks, you listen, eh, Antonia?” he asked casually. “No place for me at the inn. How very sad.”

“You know that’s not true,” Antonia snapped. “He’s put up with you for more than a week already for my sake, and now he’s fed up.”

They sounded as if they knew each other well. Laura frowned. Surely, Morris wasn’t another lover? More likely, he was a co-conspirator.

Morris seemed unperturbed. “Our lordly Bark seems to be feeling quite flush lately,” he remarked. His tone was casual, but there was a double meaning in the words that Laura didn’t understand.

“That’s not true,” Antonia said defensively. “What gave you that idea?”

“I keep my ears open, and my eyes,” Morris answered, and Laura was certain that his words had some special meaning for both of them.

“You should never have come here,” Antonia said, sounding defensive. “Everything was going along well until you came along.”

“Stewart seems to think I’ve been a great help,” Morris replied. “After all, someone has to do the dirty work when unexpected problems arise, and your darling would rather keep his hands clean. “Bit of a coward, I fear,” he added musingly.

“That’s not true either,” Antonia objected. “He’s just…just not very…” Her words trailed off shakily, and Laura was sure the slight had upset her.

“Drink?” Morris asked. Antonia made no answer. Laura heard the clink of a glass being set down and then a drink being poured. “Here’s to all our health,” Morris said, his tone mocking.

“You’ve got to go,” Antonia said urgently. “They could be back any moment. I don’t know what Bark will do if he finds you still here.”

“All right,” Morris agreed equably. “I’ll be off in a minute. Don’t want to ruffle the lord and master’s feathers. But first, Antonia darling, I have one more small matter to discuss with you. Very boring, I fear, since it has to do with me needing a spot of the ready, and with a certain young la-”

His voice broke off abruptly as the dogs began to bark hysterically. Laura felt Catherine’s hand on her arm. “Car,” she mouthed.

Laura nodded. Even she had heard the sound of tires on gravel under the dogs’ fierce barks, which came now from the front of the manor.

The barks changed into whines of pleasure, and she heard Lord Torrington’s booming voice. “Come to greet me, have you?” he told them cheerfully. “Didn’t think Antonia would let you out. Glad she did, eh Jasper? Down now, Lucy, that’s a good girl. Come on, both of you. Inside for a drink and some food.”

“I’m off,” Morris announced softly from the drawing room. “Tell you the rest later, darling.”

Laura heard his steps glide past the curtains toward the kitchens. He wasn’t quite fast enough. Just as Morris opened the door to the back hall, Lord Torrington came through the inner door. The polite voice instructing visitors to leave their cards and progress to the drawing room was no match for his bellow.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lord Torrington demanded. “I believe I made my position quite clear, Morris, and if you come again I’ll call the police. Now get out!” He sounded much less gentlemanly than usual, Laura noticed with interest. Even his accent sounded different.

Morris didn’t argue. “Yes, Sir,” he answered, mockery strong in his voice. His footsteps receded slowly down the long passage to the kitchen. Laura sighed inaudibly, sorry the dogs were no longer there to greet him.

To her horror, they trotted over to the curtains and began to sniff eagerly at her feet. She held her breath.

“Damned mice, they get in everywhere,” Lord Torrington grumbled to himself. “Walls are full of them. Or maybe rats, damn them.”

Rats! Laura stiffened. A whole family of them could be hiding behind the curtain. She wanted badly to look down at her feet but dared not move her head or anything else.

“Stop snuffling at those damned curtains,” Lord Torrington muttered impatiently to the dogs. “Can’t get at the damned creatures anyway.” Jasper and Lucy ignored him. Exasperated, Lord Torrington snapped his fingers. “Come,” he ordered sharply as he went into the drawing room. The dogs hesitated, and he called them again. “Come on, you great brutes.”