A Killer Ball at Honeychurch Hall (23 page)

“So goes the legend,” said Shawn. “The Honeychurches were closely allied with the Vyvans—a very prominent and influential family in Cornwall. Like many Royalist supporters in the area, they were permitted to collect plate—that would be silver in today's terms—to melt it down and create money to support the Royalist army.” Shawn pointed to the bag. “I am certain that this is a receipt book that would have itemized what the Honeychurches had taken from neighboring farmers all anxious to support their king.”

“I wonder how Bryan got hold of it?”

“I suppose we'll never know,” said Shawn. “You see, there were pockets of Royalist supporters called Cavaliers, and pockets of Roundheads from Cromwell's New Army—”

“Yes, I know about the Roundheads and the Cavaliers—”

“In fact, Lavinia's lot—the Carews—fought for Cromwell. Families were often split right down the middle—rather like the American Civil War, in fact, so you see…”

Shawn droned on about the Sealed Knot and all the different regiments and I duly listened. Much as I liked him, he had this awful habit of pontificating and now in this enclosed space, instead of enjoying the electricity between us, I was beginning to feel claustrophobic.

“I had no idea you were such an expert, Shawn,” I finally managed to say.

“I'm a member of the English Civil War Reenactment Society,” he said with a hint of pride. “This summer, we're hosting a reenactment group here at the Hall. Naturally Rupert will play his ancestor, the Earl of Grenville.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“It is,” said Shawn eagerly.

“And who do you play?”

“Prince Maurice.”

I thought of the Dobson painting hanging in the King's Parlor and suddenly, Alfred and the revelries of the night before at Heathfield Business Park came flooding back.

Shawn must have seen something in my face. “Sorry. I tend to get carried away. Trains and the English Civil War are my hobbies.”

“No, it was interesting,” I protested.

We fell quiet again as the rain continued to hammer down on the roof of the camper van and the windows started to steam up, again.

Shawn started to poke around as I watched. I couldn't deny there was some spark between us but I didn't want a relationship so soon, nor did I want to take on a man who already had two children and a wife who, by everything I'd heard, had been just wonderful. I'd always be second—just like I had been second in David's life.

As if sensing my eyes on him, Shawn turned and smiled but then he spotted the plastic champagne glasses in the sink, opened the little cupboard underneath and withdrew the rubbish bin. “Hello, hello, hello! What have we got here?”

And the policeman clichéd phrases, I thought to myself, could I live with those?

“Freixenet in the love machine,” said Shawn.

“Excuse me?”

“Gran told me that Bryan was quite a Casanova in his day. He used to do a lot of…” Shawn blushed. “Entertaining in this old camper van.”

Shawn delved into the rubbish bin and withdrew a crumpled greeting card. “Hmm … hello, hello, hello! What's all this then?”

No. The clichéd phrases would definitely be a problem.

Pictured on the front was a floral teapot with a cup and saucer inside a large red heart. The caption said,
“You suit me to a tea!”
“It's a Valentine's card.”

“It looks pretty old, too,” I said.

Shawn opened it and together we read the greeting inside,
“I'm all steamed up over you my Valentine,”
and under that, in spidery handwriting,
“Together forever
—
?”

I thought of all the cards that David had sent me and that I still had. “Do you think Bryan Laney sent this? It looks like his handwriting.”

“Someone has been holding onto that card for a very long time.” Shawn removed a Ziploc bag and slid the card inside. “We'll get this handwriting analyzed.”

Bryan's mobile rang from the central console again.

“Front passenger seat!” I said quickly. “I meant to tell you—”

But Shawn had already pounced on it. “Hello?”

I could hear a woman's voice twittering on the other end.

“No, this is not Bryan,” said Shawn, all business. “He is unable to come to the phone. Who am I speaking to?”

More twittering.

“This is Detective Inspector Shawn Cropper,” said Shawn.

More
twittering that I could tell was becoming hysterical.

“I'm not at liberty to say, madame. Can you identify yourself? Oh!” Shawn's eyes widened with surprise. “I'm afraid I can't give out that information on the telephone,” he said firmly. “Let me take your address.” He fumbled in his top pocket. I helped him find a pen and opened his notebook for him.

“Hello?
Hello?
” Shawn looked at me and shook his head. “She hung up.” He put Bryan's mobile into a fresh Ziploc bag. “We should be able to trace her address from Laney's phone.”

“Who was it?”

Shawn paused for a moment before saying, “It would appear that Bryan had a wife.”

 

Chapter Twenty-one

“She was calling from a Plymouth area code,” said Shawn as we left the camper van. “Judging by her reaction, Bryan seemed to make a habit of disappearing and losing his phone.”

I thought of the missed calls and ignored voice mails.

“Do you think his wife called to cover her tracks?” I suggested. “Plymouth isn't so far away.”

“You mean, did she discover Bryan with another woman—but who?”

I shrugged. “That's why you are a detective and I'm not.”

The rain had finally stopped. We cut through the walled garden in silence. Shawn seemed preoccupied and was walking quickly.

“Any news on Ginny?” I said.

“What?” he said distractedly.

“Ginny? Is she still in hospital?”

He nodded. “We'll be talking to her this afternoon.”

“Will you let me know when I can go and visit her?”

He nodded. “I'm just going to pop in and see Gran.” I noticed his panda car was parked outside the Croppers' cottage.

I headed back to the Carriage House wondering about Shawn's grandmother. The cottage was just a short walk from the camper van. Mrs. Cropper had said she'd heard a man and a woman arguing but perhaps she was lying? If she were involved, I wondered what Shawn was going to do about it.

Back at the Carriage House, my car still wasn't back. Hopefully Mum was home from church and might know what Alfred's plans were.

I found Mum upstairs in her office sitting at her desk and poring through the cash box.

“How was church?” I said.

“Good God!” she shrieked and shot out of her chair. “Why didn't you knock?”

“Were you struck down by lightning?”

Mum shoved something into her cardigan pocket and snapped the cash box lid shut. “What did you say?”

I regarded her with suspicion. “You're up to something.”

“No, I'm not,” she protested.

“What have you got in your pocket?”

“Nothing!”

I made a quick lunge for her hand. My mother spun away and dashed out of the office with me in hot pursuit. She darted into the bathroom and slammed the door.

I tapped quietly. “Hello? What are you doing? Flushing whatever it is down the loo?”

“I'm just having a pee. Why do you have to follow me everywhere?” Mum called out.

“Okay—well, that's a shame because I had something really interesting to tell you but I suppose I can't now.”

There was a silence. And then:

“How interesting?”

“About Bryan Laney—or should I say,
Mrs.
Laney.”

There was another silence and then the door opened a crack. Quick as a flash, I barged in and grabbed her wrist.

“Ouch, ouch! That's my bad hand!” Mum squealed as I plunged my own into her cardigan pocket.

“Ah-ha! What is this?” I withdrew a heart-shaped pendant with a fake diamond. It was identical to the one that Shawn had shown us in the library—and on Pandora's body.

“Really, Katherine,” Mum said crossly. “You can be so dramatic!”

“Oh, so you have a necklace, too?”

Mum gave a heavy sigh and sank onto the edge of the bathtub. “I don't want you to jump to the wrong conclusions but…” She paused. “Alfred was right when he said these necklaces were all over the place. Bryan was very good at hook-the-duck—”

“I'm sure he was,” I said dryly.

Mum smirked. “He used to win these necklaces all the time and give them to us girls. He was such a flirt, always swearing undying love to whomever caught his eye.”

Mrs. Cropper had told Shawn the same thing. “Obviously I'm relieved that you have kept your necklace—”

“No idea why I did,” Mum mused. “I think it was more of a memento from my Electra days rather than sentimental value…”

“Did he send you a Valentine's card?”

Mum thought for a moment. “Of course not. We were never at the Hall in February. We were only there in the summer.”

“What about Mrs. Cropper?” I said slyly. “Does she still have her necklace?”

“How did you find out about her and Bryan?” Mum exclaimed. “If Peggy thinks I told you she'll be furious.”

“It was a lucky guess,” I said. “Did Bryan send
her
a Valentine's card?”

“I've no idea,” Mum grumbled. “She's not really a friend, you know.”

“I thought you'd gotten all chummy.”

“For a moment, I thought we were chummy, too,” said Mum. “She suddenly changed. I suppose she still doesn't like me. Her Seth used to have a thing for me—”

“It sounds like everyone had a bit of a thing for you.”

“I know. They did,” she said. “The boys went wild because they knew we never stayed around. It was the same for Alfred and Billy—the local girls just thought that life on the road was incredibly sexy. It was so silly.”

“I don't think so,” I said. “It sounds exciting—and sexy.”

Mum seemed pleased. “I always thought you disapproved of me.”

“Of course not!” I exclaimed. “I just felt disappointed that you didn't feel you could tell me. That's all. But now I know. And now I want to know
everything
.”

“Well—Peggy tried to make Seth jealous by flirting with Bryan but she got more than she bargained for—and that made Joan furious! If anyone was jealous, it was Joan.” Mum nodded. “
Apparently,
Bryan got Joan in the family way.”

“Oh dear.”

“And then he ran off to sea. Abandoned her. Peggy said he couldn't keep his torpedo in his trousers…”

“That's disgusting, Mother.”

“Her words, not mine.”

“What happened to the baby?”

“Peggy thinks there was no baby; that Joan tried to trick Bryan into marrying her.”

“But Joan obviously did get married, eventually.”

“To Peggy's brother,” said Mum. “It's all so incestuous! But she never got over Bryan. Peggy feels that's what turned her brain.”

“Alzheimer's is a horrible disease, Mum.” I thought for a moment. “Did Mrs. Cropper keep her necklace?”

“She said she did.”

“Did you see it?”

“No.”

“So the necklace that Shawn found near the culvert just might belong to Mrs. Cropper?”

“I think I'm rather weary of talking about all this necklace nonsense now, dear,” said Mum. “Can we change the subject?”

“Do you know whether Mrs. Cropper drinks Freixenet?” I persisted.

“That cheap champagne?” Mum said. “Why?”

“I just wondered.” I still wasn't convinced that my mother was telling the truth. “So why did you tear off into the bathroom?”

“Force of habit,” said Mum with a grin. “You scared me—but enough of that. I can't believe that Bryan had a wife! What nerve! Do you know what he said to me?”

“Before you hit him?” I said. “I think you should keep that to yourself. Bryan having a wife gives you a motive.”

“You'll never guess why her ladyship wanted me to go to confession.”

“I don't think I can but I suspect you're about to tell me.”

“She asked me to put my hand on the Bible and swear that I didn't write that thank you note from Pandora.”

I felt my jaw drop. “And did you?”

“Of course I didn't write it!” Mum exclaimed. “Her ladyship wanted to give me the opportunity to come clean. Pandora's death really upset her.”

I thought for a moment. “Edith was protecting you.”

“Yes. She had the thank you letter, after all,” said Mum. “So she's going to give it to Shawn.”

“Oh dear,” I whispered. “Does this mean—Alfred had something to do with it? The letter was postmarked from St. Ives.”

“St. Ives? We used to camp at St. Ives.” Mum turned ashen. “No, I don't believe … Alfred wouldn't—why would he? Or would he? We'll ask him.”

“You could, if he was here.” I told Mum that not only had Alfred not shown up for work this morning, but that he had stolen my car with the drawings.

“Stolen?” Mum said with scorn. “Don't be so dramatic.”

“Well, he certainly didn't use my car keys,” I said. “They are in my purse. He must have hot-wired it.”

“Alfred has always been good at that.”

“Mum—”

“I don't want to talk about Alfred,” she declared. “I want to know about Bryan's wife.”

I filled Mum in on the little I knew about the existence of Mrs. Laney. “Shawn said they'd send someone out from Plymouth to break the news to her.”

“Maybe she did it,” said Mum. “Plymouth's not far. Maybe she found out about his past shenanigans.”