A Crowded Coffin Page 14

  Edith and Mrs Mackenzie looked up. ‘He did have a cat after all, then?’ the older woman remarked. ‘That could explain the scratches on his wrist.’

  ‘Well, it could,’ Rory said doubtfully. ‘But Sam says Hector, the cat, is far too laid back to scratch anyone and too fat and idle to lift a paw.’ A reminiscent smile flickered across his face. ‘He’s certainly fat and he weighs a ton, but he didn’t even twitch a whisker when we got him into the cat basket. Oh, didn’t I say? Sam’s decided to take him on. Hector can camp in Sam’s spare room till he feels settled. The son in Toronto wouldn’t want a cat; he lives in a high-rise block of flats anyway.’

  The Canadian woman was still looking concerned and Rory added, ‘I mentioned the scratches to Sam and he says Dr Sutherland was always complaining about brambles so that’s most likely how he got the scratches. They colonized his garden from the patch of common land next door and he was fighting a constant battle against them.’

  It was time to go. Edith rose to her feet and put out her hand to Mrs Mackenzie. ‘I can’t thank you enough for your kindness,’ she said. ‘It’s been lovely to meet you, even under such sad circumstances. You must come over to Locksley soon; are you here for long?’

  Margaret surprised her with a quick, sympathetic hug. ‘I’d love to, honey. I’m based here in Winchester for another five days though I’m off to Salisbury for the day tomorrow, and Chichester the day after that. I like to have a theme for my vacations,’ she confessed with a smile. ‘Last time it was castles, the time before that was royal palaces and this year I’m visiting cathedrals.’

  As they took their leave Rory had a last word with the Canadian visitor. ‘If you do happen to remember anything, anything at all that strikes you as odd, I mean about the old chap, will you give me a call?’

  She shot him a curious glance and surveyed him very thoughtfully, but nodded and promised, in spite of her repeated assurances that there was nothing at all out of the ordinary that she could recall.

  As Rory edged the car out of the city and headed towards the hills Edith sat in the back seat talking to their unexpected feline passenger. Hector was curled up in an extra-large cat-travel basket, gazing out with placid, gooseberry-green eyes and responding amiably to her polite advances. She had to agree with Rory that a cat so large and indolent was probably not going to be scratching anyone anytime soon, so it must have been the brambles after all.

  At Sam’s new home, the semi-detached twin of Harriet’s cottage, they used the key he had given Rory and carted Hector and his belongings upstairs to the back bedroom. Sam’s furniture from the flat had been delivered the previous day and besides his own room, the spare room had a carpet, a pair of twin beds and a chest of drawers already, though there were no curtains as yet.

  ‘He should be all right,’ Edith said hopefully as they watched the hefty grey and white tabby uncurl himself from his basket to take a languid stroll round his new quarters. A sniff of approval at his food and water bowl, a disdainful glance at the litter tray, ready for action and tucked away in a corner, and Hector stalked off to his own bed where he promptly fell asleep.

  As she waited for Rory to double-lock the front door, Edith was startled to see a sleek silver Porsche parked alongside Rory’s elderly Vauxhall, and Brendan Whittaker coming down Harriet’s front path, next door. He looked disconcerted to see them.

  ‘Oh, er, I was looking for Miss Quigley,’ he said, looking self-consciously at the expensive-looking bouquet of lilies he was carrying. ‘Gordon wanted me to see her and make sure she was comfortable.’

  ‘She’s at our house,’ Edith told him, surprised. ‘Didn’t you know? I’ll take the flowers for her if you like?’ She looked round but Rory had disappeared down the side path, so she walked to the gate. ‘That’s a nasty scrape on your wing, what have you been up to?’

  ‘That?’ He shrugged as she indicated a mark on his car. ‘Nothing to do with me – some fool parking badly. I found it like that when I got back to the car. Bloody nuisance, though; I’ll have to put in a claim unless I can get it done privately.’

  ‘Hard luck,’ she sympathized. ‘Did whoever did it leave their name and insurance details?’

  ‘Of course not.’ He stared at her. ‘Never mind that, how about a drink sometime soon? Tonight maybe? No, of course you can’t tonight, but tomorrow perhaps. I’ve scarcely seen you since you came home.’

  ‘It’s only been a few days.’ She fobbed him off with a mumble about her grandparents and he drove off as Rory reappeared.

  ‘I was just checking Harriet’s back door,’ he said. ‘In case anyone’s been poking about in there. It’s all over the village that she’s up at the farm, so why didn’t lover-boy know?’

  ‘He’s not,’ Edith was frowning. ‘He’s just someone to have a laugh with now and then. But what did he mean, I can’t have a drink tonight? Why not?’

  Back at the farm she soon found out.

  ‘You’re in the dog house,’ Karen informed her with a cheerful grin. ‘The vicar phoned earlier to remind you that you’d promised to go out with him for a drink tonight and asked what time he should he pick you up.’

  ‘No I didn’t.’ Edith was indignant. ‘I said sometime or other, not tonight. Anyway, why does that put me in the dog house? It’s not a crime.’

  ‘It is to your grandfather,’ Karen shrugged, and bent to take out some trays of tiny sausage rolls from the oven. ‘He doesn’t approve of the vicar making up to you. And you needn’t look at me like that; I heard him tell the vicar that himself.’

  ‘He did?’ Edith was irritated but impressed all the same. Her grandfather rarely interfered in her life.

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Karen deftly put more oven trays, this time of minute vol-aux-vents, in to cook. ‘Mr Attlin took the call from the vicar this morning and told him you couldn’t go out tonight as we’re having a small drinks party. Then he invited the vicar anyway and told him straight out that he felt it wasn’t wise for a man in his position to be seen out and about with other women so soon after his wife’s death and he advised caution.’

  ‘Drinks party?’ Edith was startled but the evidence was before her eyes: cocktail savouries, canapés, assorted bottles and glasses, on every available surface. ‘Have they gone mad? It’s only a day or so ago that we had the Rotary dinner here. What on earth do they want a drinks party for?’

  ‘You’d better ask Rory,’ was the only response she got as Karen disappeared into the large, walk-in larder.

  ‘Don’t shoot!’ He held up a hand in supplication. ‘Cousin Walter rang me after Sam and I left you in the cathedral. I forgot to tell you, with everything else that was happening. He told me they were having a small celebration drinks party and asked me to get on to Gordon Dean and invite his household, so I did. They’re all coming and I gather your grandmother has been on the phone so most of the village will be coming too. Sam can’t make it, by the way, he’s got something on in Southampton tonight. I’ve no idea what the party’s about, though.’

  ‘Well, there’s one good thing,’ remarked Karen. ‘We’ve got some olives. I asked the vicar to pick some up from the man in the market, seeing as he was on his way to Winchester, and he dropped them in an hour or so ago.’

  ‘He’s been to Winchester today?’ Rory made an obvious effort to control his start of surprise as he turned to Karen. ‘What time was that, then?’

  ‘About 10.15, more or less.’ She looked surprised. ‘I bumped into him at the village shop and passed the time of day. He mentioned where he was off to and I just said that if he happened to be walking through the market, would he pick up some olives for the party.’ She was working as she spoke and soon had a tray ready. ‘Here, make yourselves useful and take some tea upstairs.’

  ‘My dear child.’ Edith’s grandfather glanced across at his wife and smiled. ‘The party is a makeshift attempt to dig myself out of a very deep hole. Today, as I’m sure you have forgotten, as I did, I’m ashamed to say, is our wedding anniversary. I
t’s fifty-nine years to the day that I did the decent thing and made an honest woman of your grandmother. The party is an impromptu way of apology.’

  Penelope Attlin nodded and smiled. ‘He did trot out his usual excuse,’ she said with a mock frown at her husband. ‘You know, he says he doesn’t like to rake up old grievances and anniversaries are best forgotten.’

  During the laughter that followed Walter Attlin’s ancient family joke, Rory glanced across at Harriet. She was looking decidedly weary and he went over to sit beside her.

  ‘Don’t say it,’ she answered his concerned look. ‘I know I look a wreck. I’m worn out. Penelope and Walter are being lovely but I’m going to call it a day soon and head for bed. I’m in no state for a party and besides, the painkillers I’m on are making me very woozy.’ She had dark circles under her eyes but managed a smile as Rory described Sam’s new housemate. ‘Bless him,’ she nodded. ‘Soft as butter, Sam’s heart, but a cat will be good company for him. I look forward to meeting Hector and to getting home to my own little moggie tomorrow.’

  ‘What do you think about this party tonight, Harriet?’ Rory was still wondering about it.

  ‘I think Walter is lighting fires to keep the darkness away,’ she said, surprising him, and smiled faintly at his reaction. ‘Or the modern equivalent,’ she explained. ‘I mean he’s insistent that his accident hasn’t put the fear of God in him and having a party is one way of showing he’s not to be browbeaten. Besides,’ she added, ‘as he always says himself, old people have to kill themselves in their own way. They survived last Friday’s dinner remarkably unscathed, so why not a small drinks do in their own home? And a fifty-ninth wedding anniversary is reason enough.’

  Rory nodded and got up to corner the old man. ‘Cousin Walter,’ he murmured, ‘did you really not see who it was, who drove into you, I mean?’

  His host eyed him with resignation. ‘You’re just like the rest of them, aren’t you?’ he sighed. ‘I suppose Edith’s got you playing detectives with her? Oh yes,’ he grunted with amusement. ‘You think anything goes unnoticed round here? It’s all over the village that you’ve been poking about in the archives with Sam Hathaway and that he’s been asking lots of questions. And Edith has been going about practically wearing a deerstalker.’ He glanced across the room and caught Harriet’s eye. ‘You too, I gather?’

  He waved aside Rory’s indignant denial and Harriet’s sudden, anxious frown. ‘If you must know, I didn’t actually see who it was but I did have a kind of intuition, some sixth sense. I felt sure it was the four-by-four that belongs to Gordon Dean.’

  To Rory’s intense irritation Edith interrupted at that point, full of something she’d just remembered. She had clearly not overheard the exchange between the two men.

  ‘Grandpa, when you had your accident—’ She looked haughtily at Rory and Walter who had burst out laughing. ‘I’m sorry? I didn’t realize it was something to laugh about. Anyway,’ – she could never bear a grudge – ‘I was thinking about it earlier on. You were very cagey about it. Did you see something? Or someone?’ She looked suddenly confused and a little shamefaced. ‘I mean, you didn’t see Lucius, did you, Grandpa? Lucius Sextus Vitalis?’

  This was greeted by gasps and Rory was about to make some sarcastic remark when he glimpsed his elderly relative’s expression.

  ‘You mean … you really think you did see him?’ He goggled at the old man in disbelief.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Walter Attlin sounded defensive but he went on, ‘I don’t honestly know what I saw. I wasn’t going to mention it, and if either of you breathes a whisper, I’ll skin you alive. That goes for you too, Harriet. I refuse to be branded a senile old dodderer.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘It was at the moment I realized that the noise I could hear was actually a car. I half-turned and managed to jump out of the way, and I’d have been fine if I hadn’t gone and tripped, which is how I broke my damned collarbone. I thought I saw someone in the distance, over by the angel stone.’

  Edith and Harriet stared wide-eyed, while Rory tried to maintain his scepticism in the face of the old man’s level voice and evident sincerity.

  ‘It was the briefest possible glimpse, an impression of a figure standing there; and there was a flash of something silvery.’ Again he shook his head, something defiant in his attitude. ‘I know it sounds insane but it made me think of armour, of a Roman breastplate.’

  chapter ten

  Edith had snatched a brief conversation with Harriet just after tea, but when she looked in on her an hour or two later, hoping for a further discussion, Harriet was drowsing comfortably, already tucked up in bed.

  ‘It’s bliss, sometimes,’ she admitted. ‘Just giving in to whatever is getting on top of you. You were right, Sam was right. I’m better off here tonight while I’m still so woozy. But tomorrow,’ she looked defiant, ‘tomorrow I’m going home. Sam will either be next door in his own house, or in mine – or more probably pottering between the two. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘’Course you will,’ Edith nodded. ‘Tough as old boots, aren’t you? Did you know we used to call you Boudicca at school?’ As Harriet nodded, looking smug, Edith shrugged. ‘I might have known we’d never have got anything past you. But listen, Harriet,’ she suddenly sobered. ‘What about what Grandpa said? I know the farm is supposed to be haunted but he’s never mentioned seeing anything before.’

  ‘Well,’ Harriet’s tone was bracing, ‘for a start I don’t think you need to panic about Walter losing his marbles. Maybe he did see a ghost. Who are we to argue with him? Although,’ she gave it some consideration, ‘I’m more inclined to think it was the clouds parting and a shaft of moonlight briefly glancing on a tree trunk or something.’ She closed her eyes for a moment before she added, ‘I wouldn’t dream of contradicting him, though. If it was the family’s tame Roman he’s not going to cause trouble for his descendents, is he? Although,’ her eyes snapped open, ‘I felt I’d better not rile Walter by wondering why Lucius would have felt the need to wear his army breastplate long after he’d become a civilian.’

  She snuggled down and waved a languid hand at her visitor. ‘You’d better go back to your guests,’ she said. ‘Whatever those pills are that I’m taking, they’re pretty strong and I’m almost asleep as it is. Off you go; if it’s anything like that lunchtime do at Gordon’s, you’ll spend your time fending off unwanted advances. Have they all turned up yet? The vicar and Brendan, et al?’

  ‘I expect they’ll be there,’ Edith told her as she turned to go. ‘I think they were just bored at Gordon’s party, and I was a novelty. I’ll fight them off, no worries.’ She picked anxiously at her thumbnail. ‘I don’t know what to think now, though. Not after seeing them—’ She broke off in mid-sentence. Harriet was in no state to be worried, even though Edith was more and more confused about the supposed treasure-seekers and their activities.

  ‘You might be right.’ Harriet sounded drowsy. ‘Be careful, love. I just don’t like any of them, but I’m too doped-up to remember why at the moment.’ She roused herself reluctantly to add, ‘I never actually said thank you, Edith, for nipping back to feed my cat. I expect he was glad to see you.’

  Edith nodded and left the room, thinking hard. Now was not the time, she frowned, to tell Harriet that she’d felt something different about the cottage when she had nipped in to check on Harriet’s cat an hour ago. There was no sign of forced entry but she thought papers could have been moved and some of Harriet’s bits and pieces were out of place. A cursory look round the house reinforced the sense of intrusion – a bedroom door now open when Edith knew she had shut it herself – but there was no concrete evidence and nothing seemed to be missing. Time enough to tell Harriet tomorrow morning or perhaps it would be better to tell Sam instead.

  As she approached the galleried landing in the oldest part of the house, Edith jumped out of her skin as Rory loomed out of the shadows. He reached out instinctively to steady her and then somehow she was in his arms a
nd he was kissing her. For a moment she responded, then all her uncertainties and confusion about him reasserted themselves.

  ‘No …’ she whispered as she pulled herself away, leaving him to stare as she headed for the top of the stairs. Before he could speak she had halted abruptly.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Her horrified whisper reached him and he looked over the balustrade to see what had shocked her.

  ‘He looked like Sam,’ she said, gripping the carved wooden banister. ‘In the cathedral, I’ve just remembered. Dr Sutherland looked a lot like Sam from where I was looking down at him.’

  ‘So? I wouldn’t have said there was much resemblance between them.’ Rory peered down into the Great Hall but could see nothing out of the ordinary. Twenty-or-so assorted neighbours were standing about, chatting and drinking, as a convivial hum rose up to them. ‘What are you talking about, Edith? What the hell’s the matter?’

  ‘When we were in the cathedral,’ she told him, ‘you and Sam were already on the move and I looked down from the gallery. There was a crowd, a bit like this one, and Dr Sutherland spotted me and waved. I waved back to him and he pointed to the chapel, to show he was going in there.’ She faltered, her difficulties with Rory forgotten. ‘But when I looked down again, on the way down, I felt odd, unsettled I suppose. I’ve only just realized why. I couldn’t see Dr Sutherland’s face, just his silver hair and cream jacket. And Sam’s panama hat stuck over his face, I suppose to help him snooze.’ She stared at Rory. ‘And Sam’s blue hanky; he was using it to fan himself.’

  ‘But why has that got you in such a state?’ He was puzzled and took another look over the railing. ‘It’d be more to the point if you’d seen this tall, dark man Dr Sutherland reckoned he’d seen following him and Sam. I’d forgotten about that till now.’ As he gazed downwards, Brendan Whittaker sauntered across the room, nodding in passing to the American, Mike Goldstein. ‘Have you checked if either of those two just happened to be visiting the cathedral today?’