***
DCI Peter Montrose stood on the edge of the small group of mourners who were gathered around the grave. In particular he watched Amelia Farrell, who even in grief was stunning. The fascination and deep emotion he felt whenever he laid eyes on her bewildered him. No other woman had ever affected him in this way. Was it love, he wondered, somewhat bemused.
Montrose forced himself to shift his attention to Grace; she interested him too, but in an entirely different way. He had finally persuaded her to open up to him, but her cock and bull story about ghosts and flying knives was like a scene from an oriental movie. Not something he could include in his report. However, the only clear fingerprints on the knife had been Nathan’s, and nowhere around the body were there any footprints. Conclusion: no one, meaning Grace or Leonie, had gone near the body to wipe away their prints. The coroner’s verdict, accidental death, had satisfied everyone including his Chief Superintendent, so who was he to argue, Montrose thought. Ellen Farrell’s admission of causing Laurence Farrell’s death in 1911 exonerated her husband John, and the closing of both cases in such a satisfactory manner had earned praise for DCI Montrose.
While Montrose watched the Farrell sisters, DS Rob Fielding watched Montrose. ‘Why don’t you ask her out, sir?’ he ventured.
‘What! Oh, it’s you Fielding. I thought you’d long gone.’
‘It’s obvious you like her,’ Rob said.
‘Mind your own business.’ Montrose gave his DS a look, but unfortunately it wasn’t enough to shut Robert Fielding up.
‘Okay, but if you don’t ask her out soon, someone else will. You’ll have missed your chance then,’ Rob persisted.
‘It isn’t that easy. I’ve heard she’s got a thing for the vicar.’
‘David Lanceley! He’s too insipid for Amelia, if you ask me. No contest,’ Rob said with conviction.
Montrose smiled at the subtle compliment. It spurred his confidence somewhat, and when Amelia began to walk away from the grave he decided to take DS Fielding’s advice.
‘Miss Farrell, Amelia, could I have a quiet word?’ he called to her, wishing she would slow down.
Amelia stopped and waited for the detective to catch her up. ‘Not more questions. Not today please,’ Amelia sighed, irritated by his intrusion.
‘Only one question; it won’t take long.’ Montrose took Amelia’s elbow and guided her away from Grace, who was standing next to her.
‘Just the one, Detective Chief Inspector, that will be a first,’ Amelia said, exasperation causing her sarcasm.
She wasn’t making it easy for him and Montrose was tempted to forget the whole thing.
‘Well?’ Amelia asked, her lips pouting in disapproval of him.
DCI Montrose looked at Amelia’s soft lips and moist eyes, pink from crying, and felt as though he was drowning. In despair, positive a woman like Amelia would never look at him in the same way, he felt he might go mad. For the first time in his life Peter Montrose was tongue-tied.
‘Detective Chief Inspector?’ Amelia wondered what his problem was. She had to admit the policeman did look smart today, and she approved of his slate grey overcoat worn over a plain black suit. Amelia studied Montrose’s face for a sign and met large brown eyes full of anguish. His silence unnerved her and she prayed he wasn’t bearing more bad news.
‘Amelia, will you have dinner with me?’ Montrose finally croaked in a voice he didn’t recognise.
Amelia was taken aback. This she hadn’t expected. ‘Is that your one question, dinner with you?’
‘Yes. Not tonight of course, much too short notice. It’s probably inappropriate for me to ask today of all days. So no, forget it, not to worry, some other time.’ Now he had found his voice Montrose couldn’t stop talking. He looked at Amelia anxiously.
‘Do you want to take me out to dinner or not?’ Amelia asked, restraining a smile at his indecision. She’d never seen the policeman in such a dither.
‘Yes I do, very much,’ Peter Montrose replied.
‘All right then.’
‘Was that a yes?’ Montrose couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
‘Yes, I’d like to. As long as we don’t go to Pierre’s and you don’t talk shop.’
‘Okay, agreed. Are you free tomorrow evening? I could pick you up around eight?’ Montrose said in breathless anticipation.
‘Thank you, Detective Chief Inspector.’ Amelia looked around for Grace who had discreetly moved away and was now waiting for her outside the church door.
‘Oh please, call me Peter,’ Montrose said, but Amelia had already started walking away. He stood watching her retreating back. Then, just as he was beginning to think Amelia had been joking with him, had no intention of seeing him the following evening, she turned and waved to him and that small gesture made DCI Peter Montrose the happiest man in the world.
Chapter 39
David Lanceley sat in the office of Gerrard and Gafferty Solicitors in Chester, nervously awaiting the arrival of the others. He felt a little smug. Today the reading of Sophia Deverell’s will was to take place and he had been called to attend. Sophia hadn’t had time to change her will before the attempt on her life and was not much use for anything afterwards. Therefore, he assumed, she couldn’t have left anything to Amelia and Grace as Leonie had initially envisaged. He smoothed the fine material of his new suit and ran his hand over his thigh. The expensive cloth felt good. From habit he reached for his collar and then smiled. It was a pleasant change for him to be wearing a normal shirt and tie. It suited his new life much better than a dog collar.
Leonie’s overseas investments had paid off after all, and David had seen his money triple over the last month. He had to admit, even though only to himself, that Leonie was a better and happier person these days. Whether it was because her investments had finally come to fruition or because of the friendship with Amelia and Grace Farrell, he couldn’t say. Whatever it was, he approved. His only regret in all his good fortune was the loss of Amelia. How she could prefer that bumbling policeman, he’d never fathom. David shrugged; Amelia was history now, there were plenty more fish in the sea.
***
Mr Gerrard faced the five people sitting in front of him. Two he was well acquainted with, David Lanceley and his sister Leonie. The two young women, Amelia and Grace Farrell, he had only just met and if appearances were anything to go by, Mr Gerrard liked them a lot. Accompanying Miss Amelia Farrell, and sitting closely by her side, was DCI Peter Montrose. The detective was fairly new to the Cheshire Constabulary, but already his reputation and results had earned him a number of friends in the city and surrounding villages. The last in the group was a young man who held Grace’s hand and had a habit of whispering in her ear. He’d been introduced to Mr Gerrard as Jake, but apart from that, Mr Gerrard knew nothing about him.
Mr Gerrard put on his spectacles, cleared his throat and tapped a pencil on the table. Voices immediately hushed; the only sound was the rustle of cloth and the creak of chairs as the group sat comfortably to attention.
‘Before we start reading Sophia Deverell’s will, I think it fitting I say a few words about Nathan Brock. As you all know, Nathan was an employee of Gerrard and Gafferty for eight years and during the time he worked here, I and my partners had no cause to suspect his work of criminal intentions. I feel it my duty though to apologise for his behaviour, especially in his efforts to stop a new will from being drawn up.’
No one spoke. In fact you could have heard a pin drop.
‘Well then, let us proceed. In the last few days of Sophia Deverell’s life, she instructed Gerrard and Gafferty Solicitors to draw up a new will for her. Sophia signed the will which was lawfully witnessed and therefore made all previous wills and codicils of Sophia Deverell null and void.’ Mr Gerrard paused, and noted David Lanceley’s look of shock.
‘This is how it reads. Sophia leaves Tapscott Manor Nursing Home and land jointly to David and Leonie Lanceley and Amelia and Grace Farrell. They are to be partners and ensure Tapscott Manor continues to be run as a nursing home for the elderly. Each of you will also receive two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. The amount remaining, a little over fifty thousand will be used to cover funeral costs, solicitors’ costs and death duties. Any sum remaining from the fifty thousand pounds will go to charity. Sophia has stated her choice of charity in her will. Sophia leaves all her jewellery to Amelia and Grace Farrell, except for a few items that she has bequeathed to others. I have a short list here. It is Sophia’s wish that Grace presents the items to these recipients on her behalf.’ Mr Gerrard waved a piece of paper in front of him and looked over the top of his spectacles. ‘Have you any questions?’
‘An equal partnership you say,’ David blurted out. ‘That should to be fun.’
‘David,’ Leonie reprimanded him and then asked the solicitor, ‘If one of us wanted to buy out one of the other partners, would it be possible’
‘I don’t see why not.’ Mr Gerrard considered for a moment. ‘It would mean one partner would own half and be in the majority. Could cause problems in the future?’
‘It’s just a thought, but if three of us bought out the fourth we would still have equal shares,’ Leonie said.
‘Yes, yes, I can’t see a problem with that.’ Mr Gerrard knew what Leonie was driving at. David was a fly in the ointment.
***
Amelia waved goodbye to Leonie and watched David flounce towards his new Jaguar. Without a word he opened the car door and folded himself in. Then as though in the Grand Prix he revved the engine and took off with a roar.
Outside on the stone steps overlooking the car park, Grace and Jake hugged. Grace had decided, in between study courses at the college, to write a book on all that had happened since coming to live in Cheshire. It would include Ellen Farrell’s story and set their family history record straight. Amelia had agreed to leave the old gravestone in its place in the garden. Grace planned to plant bluebell bulbs in and around the trees there, and Jake, now Grace’s boyfriend, had offered to help when he wasn’t busy helping Amelia redecorate Primrose Cottage.
Amelia felt Peter’s arm around her waist and she leaned against him. She was so happy, so content, and the wonder of it all was, she felt loved. For the first time since her parents’ death she felt protected and cared for. Peter kissed the top of her head and Amelia turned to face him. Nestling her head against his chest she smiled, and felt Peter Montrose’s arms wrap around her in a hug Amelia wanted to last forever.
Acknowledgements
Eternal thanks to my daughter, author Joanne Phillips, for the encouragement and motivation to finish my book, and to my daughter Dawn who always believed I could do it.
Thanks also to Jude White, of Jude White Associates, who proofread my work and ironed out any discrepancies.
Many thank to Chris Howard, who worked on the cover for my book.
I also want to thank Bryan Hamilton of
ekindled.co.uk
for formatting my manuscript for Kindle and eBooks, and for always being there when my computer skills were lacking.
Last but not least, many thanks to my husband, Steven, for his never failing love and support.
Information regarding the sinking of the Titanic was gained by reading The Titanic Disaster. Author Dave Bryceson. As reported in the British National Press April – July 1912.
Find out more about my writing at
www.annerenshaw.wordpress.com