Read In for the Kill Online

Authors: Pauline Rowson

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Suspense, #Thrillers

In for the Kill (19 page)

‘I need to see if there is a reason why Deeta was so interested in my grandfather’s folly, and why the photograph of my mother and me taken outside it has gone missing.’

‘What on earth can any of this have to do with whoever framed you?’

‘It probably doesn’t, but for want of anywhere else to look I might as well give it a go.’ I didn’t tell her about Rowde kidnapping my family, and my looming deadline.

She assessed me for a moment. Then said,

‘Let’s go take a look then.’

‘Not you,’ I cried alarmed.

‘You bet me. You can’t get into the house without me.’ She dangled a bunch of keys at me.

‘Unless you want to knock me out and steal them from me, then I’ll call the police.’

‘OK,’ I agreed reluctantly, but knowing that she wouldn’t.

‘The Asletts are away for the weekend. I can’t leave Mum alone here so we’ll drop her at Percy’s on our way. Come on, Mum.’

Before I could protest Scarlett had Ruby’s coat on and was locking the door behind us. ‘We’ll go in my car. Mum’s used to it.’

Stifling my impatience and annoyance I let Scarlett have her way. A few minutes later she was unlocking Bembridge House. I hadn’t had time to consider how I would feel stepping back inside my childhood home and now that I did I was overwhelmed with such a great sadness that I couldn’t move and my breath came in a tight shudder. Perhaps it was the sight of the staircase and the picture in my mind of my poor mother tumbling down it to her death; perhaps it was the thought that this would have been my family home if it hadn’t been for Andover; perhaps it was both but for a moment I felt like crawling away to a corner and howling. The moment passed and I sought refuge where I had done so many times in the last few years: in my anger.

‘The key to the folly is in the kitchen,’ Scarlett said, swiftly crossing the hall.

I followed her into a room that was so completely different to my mother’s that I might have been in another house. I was certainly in a different time zone. It looked as though it had been transplanted from NASA, all chrome and angles. I was glad. I didn’t want to be reminded of my mother moving around the warm, comfortable room of my childhood, with its oak dressers and aga.

I followed Scarlett out into the gardens. It was late afternoon and it had started raining but neither of us took much notice of the weather.

‘Give me the key,’ I demanded. Scarlett thrust it in my hand.

It was a big heavy old-fashioned type, which I inserted and turned not knowing what to expect.

The lock was well oiled and the heavy oak door swung open fairly easily.

‘There’s a light, here.’ I reached to my right and suddenly the place was lit by a single overhead electric light bulb that cast eerie shadows around the edges of the domed-shaped building.

I shivered. Not just from the chill interior but at the boyhood memories. Once I had been locked in here by mistake. Steven had done it whilst we had been playing. Now all those sensations returned: my clammy skin, the panicky breathing, the oppressiveness, and the impression that I was being watched.

Scarlett broke the spell. ‘It’s just a junk store.’

‘What did you expect? Treasure?’

‘Would have been nice.’

The Asletts were using it to store their garden furniture. There were sun loungers, a garden table and parasol, a barbecue, some very old planks of wood that I was sure had been in the far corner when I had been a boy, and what looked like a wooden mast from a sailing boat with some furled up sails.

Scarlett said, ‘What are you looking for?’

‘My grandfather built this as an air raid shelter, which means there must be a room underneath here. Somewhere his family could hide if the bombs came.’

‘Great! We’ve got to lug this stuff around now.’

‘You don’t have to stay.’

‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily.’ And she set too with vigour, ignoring the dirt and the insects. I couldn’t see Vanessa or Deeta doing that. I found to my surprise that I was rather glad she was with me. It was good not to be alone.

Finally we found it, a trapdoor in the far corner covered with dirt, dust and the old wooden planks. I was surprised I had never found it as a boy, but I suppose being shut in here once was enough to make me singularly uncurious for the rest of my life – until now.

With a pounding heart I said, ‘Give me a hand.’

We grunted and groaned as we pulled at the handle. It was very stiff but slowly it began to give way. The Asletts had never found this and certainly Deeta, and whoever was working with her hadn’t either. I could smell the earth, dust and decay. There was a black hole beneath us.

‘I should have brought a torch.’

‘There’s one in the house. I’ll fetch it.’

Lying down flat on my stomach, I stared down at the blackness. Reaching out with my hands I could feel a ladder. God alone knew if the rungs were safe. I’d have to chance it. I didn’t believe in buried treasure but I did wonder if this might be where the three men had stashed their money from helping the Jews to escape Hitler’s clutches, hence Deeta’s interest.

Scarlett was back by the time it occurred to me that whoever had killed Deeta and taken the photograph and diary, could be here at any moment to kill us.

I shone the powerful beam inside the cavity.

Yes, there was a ladder. The rungs might be rotten but it wasn’t far to the bottom so if I fell I doubted I’d do much damage to myself. Tentatively I climbed down backwards as I would have done on a boat, feeling for each rung carefully, testing it before putting my weight on it. At last I dropped to the floor. I was in a small room about ten feet square. I wouldn’t have liked to cower in here whilst the bombs fell! I’d rather have taken my chances up top.

It was clear that nobody had been down here for years. I shuddered as I heard the scurrying of rats. My flesh crawled and it was all I could do to force myself to stay put.

‘Have you found anything?’ Scarlett called out to me.

‘Just a load of old dirt and rats.’

I didn’t want her coming down and knowing Scarlett she would. I hoped the rats would put her off.

My beam searched the depths of the room.

There was a bigger heap of dirt in the far right hand corner. I stepped towards it, feeling my heart knocking against my ribs. I felt very cold. I took a couple of deep breaths. I could hear the wind rising outside. It wasn’t dirt. It looked like shards of cloth. With my torch I slowly peeled it back knowing what I would see before I saw it. I was right. I climbed back up to Scarlett.

‘Well?’

‘Bones. Human,’ I said, brushing myself down.

‘My God! Whose?’

I looked steadily at her face smeared with dirt, her brown eyes wide with surprise. I didn’t know whose but I could take a guess. ‘Either my grandfather’s or Hugo’s.’

CHAPTER 15

‘ You can’t leave him there. DNA will tell you who he is,’ she said.

‘I know that, but I’ve got no choice. Not yet, at least.’

We were making our way back to Percy’s house.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I have to find Andover first. I suggest you try and forget about it, Scarlett. Just for a while. I’ll tell the police when I’m ready.’

After a moment she shrugged and said, ‘OK, it’s your business.’

It took a while for Percy to answer the door and when he did clearly all was not well with him. Scarlett quickly waved me in. Percy looked near to collapse. He staggered back into a small old-fashioned living room where Ruby was gazing rather blankly at the television set. Ashen faced and trembling he sank into an armchair.

He looked at least ten years older than when I had seen him this morning.

‘What is it?’ I asked anxiously, crossing to him.

‘It’s Steven. He’s been arrested for murder.’

Scarlett glared at me as if it was my fault. I knew what she was thinking. If Deeta hadn’t been on my houseboat, if I hadn’t made love to her, then Steven wouldn’t have followed her and be suspected of murder. Steven would tell them about Deeta and me, obviously. How long did I have before the police came for me?

‘When, Percy?’ I asked.

‘About half an hour ago. I didn’t know what to do. They said someone had seen him and Deeta arguing outside the café. Steven couldn’t have killed her, could he?’ He appealed to Scarlett.

The pleading in his eyes tore at my heart.

Doubt was eating him up.

Scarlett took his hand. ‘Of course not, Percy.

They’ll soon realise they’ve got it wrong.’

‘They didn’t with Alex.’

Scarlett dashed me a look full of fear. Percy’s words, and the despair in his watery old eyes filled me with dread. Steven had a very powerful motive for killing Deeta: jealousy. Scarlett would testify she had seen me drive away. Percy was right to be afraid.

‘Has Steven got a solicitor?’ I asked.

‘You mean Mr Kerry in the High Street.’

‘No. We need one who specialises in criminal law. I’ll call Miles.’

I stepped into the narrow hall. When Miles answered I quickly explained what had happened, leaving out the bit about Rowde holding my family hostage and the skeleton in the folly.

‘Could you come over now?’ I glanced at my watch. It was nearly 6.30pm. He could catch the seven o’ clock sailing.

‘Of course. What about you? If the police question you –’

‘Which they will, but I don’t want them doing so yet. I need you to find out what Steven has told them and stop him from saying too much.

Can you keep the police off my back for a couple of days?’

‘It won’t be easy.’

‘Tell them I’m working for you and I’ve had to go away on business.’

‘Alex, what are you up to?’

‘Probably best if you don’t know.’

‘If I’m being expected to lie for you, then don’t you think I have a right to know. Don’t you trust me?’

‘It’s not that,’ I hastily interjected. Then paused.

‘I’m not sure how to begin telling you. Look, I promise I’ll tell you everything, just give me a day’s breathing space.’ I heard him thinking about it.

‘OK. One day no more.’

That would do for now. On Monday I would be on that flight to Zurich. ‘You can stay on the houseboat. There is one more thing. I need a bed for tonight and Sunday.’

Miles had a luxury apartment at Gun Wharf Quays overlooking Portsmouth harbour. I could go from there to the airport.

‘I’ll leave a set of keys with my neighbour,’

Miles answered with a sigh.

‘My solicitor is on his way,’ I addressed Scarlett.

‘He’ll call the police station and tell them he’s coming. Don’t worry, Percy. It’ll be all right.’

‘I wish she’d never come here,’ Percy uttered with bitterness. I knew he meant Deeta. I was inclined to agree with him. By her expression Scarlett thought so too.

‘It’s happening all over again, isn’t it?’ Percy mumbled.

Scarlett said, ‘What is?’

‘First Hugo, then Alex and now Steven.’

Scarlett looked baffled but something in Percy’s words brought me up sharply. What if the old man was right? I had been fitted up. What if Steven and Hugo had also been framed?

‘Percy, why did you say Hugo?’

‘Leave him alone, Alex. Can’t you see he’s not well.’

‘Why Hugo?’ I pressed, ignoring Scarlett, thinking of those bones in the folly.

Percy looked frightened. I didn’t want to be cruel but I knew that this was important. ‘What really happened, Percy? I think it’s time for the truth.’

‘Alex!’ Scarlett said sharply.

‘No, Scarlett.’ I turned to Percy. ‘It wasn’t Max who betrayed Hugo, was it?’ Finally the truth was beginning to dawn on me.

Percy licked his lips and looked half scared to death.

‘Was it?’ I demanded harshly, ignoring Scarlett’s glare.

The old man slumped. His body shrivelled in on itself. ‘No. It was me.’

‘Only you?’ I eyed him carefully. ‘The truth, Percy, please. It’s important and it might help Steven.’

His eyes dropped. ‘I heard Max tell your grandfather that he had seen Hugo signalling out to sea, to a German submarine, a few days before the Ventnor radar station was bombed. He said they had to tell the authorities that Hugo was a German spy.’

‘Max knew you were hiding behind those rocks,’ I said. ‘He deliberately made you think Hugo was the traitor and you fell into his trap.

You went straight to the authorities. That’s why you were horrified when you discovered that Max was German. You realised you had betrayed the wrong man.’

Percy nodded slowly. His face was anguished.

His bony hands were constantly wringing in his lap. There were tears in his eyes.

‘My mother went to the authorities with you, didn’t she?’

Percy nodded miserably.

‘Then my grandfather went out on his boat and never returned.’ Or rather he didn’t. I guessed that my grandfather was lying in the folly he had built, killed and dumped there by Max Weber.

Max had taken my father’s boat to rendezvous with the German submarine, if it existed. Or he had used the boat to escape to the Channel Islands or France.

Scarlett said, ‘Surely this can’t be why you were framed, Alex?’

‘I think it was. And I think that whoever did it is now framing Steven for Deeta’s murder.’

‘But who can it be?’ she asked.

I turned to Percy. ‘Was Hugo married? Did he have any children?’

Percy’s breathing was becoming more laboured. Scarlett looked worried. The old man was clutching his chest.

‘Call an ambulance, Scarlett,’ I commanded, loosening Percy’s shirt. ‘It’s OK, Percy. Take it easy. Everything will be all right.’

‘Hugo ….was …. married,’ he panted.

Ruby turned her attention from the television and said, ‘What’s wrong with him?’

‘Percy, it’s OK,’ I insisted, growing more concerned as he clearly was in a great deal of pain.

‘Amelia,’ Percy whispered. ‘Ask Amelia.’

‘Who’s Amelia?’

Percy gave a strangled cry and clutched his chest. His body twisted forward and slid to the floor before I could prevent it. He cried out again, writhing in pain. I was no doctor but I knew a heart attack when I saw one.

‘The ambulance will be here in a moment.

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