Destroying Angel (17 page)

No reference to Collins was made by her, or any further alarm expressed at her continued absence, an omission that I found strange. The meal was punctuated by indifferent efforts at conversation from Hubert and, as we finally rose from the table, I said to him, ‘May I have a word with you please?’

‘Of course, my dear. We will be in the study,’ he said, taking up the newly opened wine bottle.

I presumed that ‘we’ included Sandeman, who gave me a beaming smile. In return I looked at him sternly. ‘I wish to talk to you in private, Hubert.’

Something like a gleam of hope shone in those remarkable eyes, a look of such sentiment and affectionate regard it would have thrilled the absent Collins had it ever been directed at her.

Motioning to Sandeman, who looked quite distressed at being excluded, Hubert ushered me into the study and closed the door, while I evaded any imminent physical contact by politely refusing to sit down and keeping a substantial armchair between us.

He looked at me, glowing: ‘You have decided then.’

I took a deep breath. ‘I have decided—’

He did not let me finish. ‘This is wonderful – my dearest Rose. I always knew you would change your mind—’

I could not let him continue. ‘Hubert, please listen to me. I am leaving Staines – now – immediately. That is what I have decided.’

As his face changed from triumph to defeat, for a moment I was almost sorry for him, sorry to inflict such visible pain on 
anyone. But he recovered, sprang to his feet, shouted at me, ‘You cannot do that! I forbid you to leave. We are to be married!’

‘We are not – not ever. Are you mad? I keep on telling you but you just won’t listen.’

‘You have not changed your mind then.’ He sounded shocked, aghast. ‘But you cannot leave. You belong here.’ Bewildered, he looked around as if the furniture might have some means of persuasion.

I was fast losing patience. ‘Hubert, please don’t be absurd. Look, this is an impossible situation. I don’t love you, I never will, and at this moment my presence is urgently needed at my own home.’

‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘Why is that?’

I looked at him. That wasn’t his business, I thought angrily, but said as calmly as possible, ‘My father and his friend are coming to Edinburgh. I had a letter this morning – as you know already from Mr Sandeman,’ I added heavily.

His face coloured. ‘Oh, that letter Mrs Sloan made all the fuss about.’

‘Rightly so. It was addressed to me and marked “Urgent”.’

He avoided my eyes and I said firmly, ‘I have to return immediately. My father is looking in on his way to Orkney.’

He sighed deeply. ‘Is that all? A family visit – you can see your father any time!’

It would have been impossible to explain, to make him understand, so I simply said, ‘No, I cannot,’ as patiently as my rising anger would allow. How dare he adopt this possessive attitude and tell me what I could or could not do?

We had known each other for only a few days and the whole situation was bizarre, outrageous. I was beginning to 
suspect that Hubert was mad. I thought of a recent case in Edinburgh of a lawyer stalked by a woman obsessed with the notion that he was in love with her.

I wondered if Hubert was suffering from a similar mental disorder. And for the first time I was afraid but, putting on a brave face, I said, ‘I am leaving tomorrow and that is all I have to say on the subject.’

‘You don’t care that I will be desolate without you.’

In all truth, I didn’t care in the least, but I said, ‘Perhaps Collins will be back soon. She will be very happy that I have gone so she can have you all to herself again.’

I knew it was twisting the knife but I was utterly sick of this ridiculous conversation.

‘Collins,’ he said slowly as if the name was new to him. ‘Ah yes, Collins. She leaves me, without the courtesy of a word. You women, you are all alike. Utterly ungrateful, all of you.’

If there was a clue here to the missing Collins, then I wanted to hear it. ‘Doubtless we have our reasons.’

‘Collins protested her love, her undying devotion, then one night, because of a slight disagreement…’ He went on with a shrug of despair, ‘No explanation – nothing!’

I closed the door on his protests. It would be a lie to say that I had enjoyed my stay, although there had been moments at the beginning when I had liked him, had even wondered if fate intended Staines as my destiny. But his persistence had destroyed that and, even after a few days, any warmer feelings I had towards him seemed long ago.

All I wanted was to escape, and not even the temptation of a catalogue of unsolved mysteries could have kept me from seeing my beloved Pappa again. 

It was too late to leave that evening to ride into Alnwick to catch an Edinburgh train. However, I would look in and see Wolf and consult his timetable. I found the bothy empty and Kokopele was missing from his perch.

Suddenly I felt quite lonely and I was relieved to find that Thane had been returned to the stables. I would keep him with me in preparation for an early start, although I did not expect to sleep very well that night.

Meanwhile I would see Kate.

She was sitting at her window as usual, engrossed in a new novel, and I had to ask her twice whether she needed any help to prepare for bed. Without lifting her eyes from the page, she shook her head. ‘I can manage perfectly well, thank you.’

So I told her that this was goodbye, that I was leaving, and added. ‘But no doubt Collins will be back soon,’ offering a small consolation, though I didn’t believe it for a moment. I was certain that Collins was dead.

Kate nodded absently. ‘Yes, I expect she will. I don’t know what is keeping her away.’

‘You have heard from her then?’

She bit her lip, stared at me.

‘Well, no. Not exactly. But I just feel it somehow,’ she said hastily, and I was sure that was a lie.

‘When you see her again, tell her I wish her well. She will know what I mean.’

Kate obviously knew what I meant. She smiled wanly at my request.

How did you send good wishes to a dead person, possibly a murdered one?

As I had predicted, sleep evaded me that night, my last in Staines, with so many unanswered questions all perplexing my mind.

When slumber came at last, it was shallow enough to be disturbed by sounds in the corridor. I thought I heard Kate whispering but decided it was all part of a dream. Too exhausted to rise and investigate, I dozed uneasily, only to fall heavily asleep then awake with a start from a vivid nightmare horrifying enough to make me sit bolt upright in bed, but with the details already receding to leave only the sickened feeling of terror remaining.

It was time to leave and Thane looked as eager as I felt at that moment. I knew he would be sorry to leave Wolf Rider, but he was still my dog, my friend, and his first loyalty was to me.

We crept downstairs. In the hall I hesitated for a moment.

There was something I must do before I left Staines.

That hundred guineas. I still had it with me, afraid that Hubert’s discovery of it in his desk would lead to arguments. Now more than ever I was certain that I had made the right decision, that to accept any money from him would be utterly distasteful. So, taking the roll of notes out of my valise, I slipped into his study. 

I opened the curtains, then the desk drawer, looking for a suitable envelope, aware that I had little time. There were sounds from above stairs already.

The first thing that came to hand was a large brown envelope addressed to Hubert. With nothing more suitable available, this one would have to do and, as increasing sounds of movement overhead indicated urgency, I shook out the contents.

Several photographs fell onto the desk.

One look told me yet another truth – yet another lie.

The nude girls provocatively posed were nymphs in a glade. With a satyr. Bearded. Also naked, his expression full of lascivious delight as his hands fondled the breasts of one of the nymphs.

His face was one I recognised. I had seen it just days ago in Newcastle at the Station Hotel.

The satyr was none other than Mr Windsor, otherwise known to all the world as Bertie, Prince of Wales.

And what I held in my hand were undoubtedly the stolen photographs, those with corners snipped off, the blackmailer’s confirmation of authenticity to convince Hubert that he meant business.

Small wonder that Hubert was so scared. If these images ever fell into unscrupulous hands and were made public, gone for ever would be Royal acclaim for the popular Royal photographer, and lost for ever any possibility of a knighthood.

I thrust them back into the envelope, and laid the roll of notes alongside, with the full knowledge that these photographs were the reason why someone had searched Cedric’s lodging so thoroughly after he died. 

And what shocked me most was the realisation that whoever had retrieved these incriminating images and placed them here in Hubert’s desk was also Cedric’s killer.

I had solved the mystery of Cedric’s death and I now knew the identity of his killer. With such dangerous knowledge, I must leave Staines with all possible speed. To linger would also mean my own life was now in peril and this was a strange, new and terrifying experience. In the past, I had faced killers who hated me but never one who professed to love me.

However, had I not gone into the gun room to check my travelling trunk, the final act in the drama of what had happened to Collins would never have been revealed.

The trunk was tucked out of sight where I had left it days ago when my original intention of leaving Staines immediately was frustrated.

Thane was behaving oddly.

Fascinated not by the stuffed pet dogs and cats, or the birds who, glitter-eyed, regarded us from their branches over our heads, or by the giant bear on his pedestal, but by one of the three mummy cases. He ran back and forth, looked towards me, whining softly, trying to get my attention, to tell me something.

I went over. One of the cases was not quite closed and, with a fast-beating heart, as I threw all my efforts into raising the heavy lid, I knew what I would find inside. I dreaded to look—

Blood!

It gave me little joy to realise that I would have left Staines and never have made the dreadful discovery had it not been for Thane. There were dark stains on the wooden interior, and a white silk scarf I had seen Collins wearing. I lifted it 
carefully between finger and thumb. The blood was not fresh. It was dark, congealed.

Horror stricken at its significance and wondering what to do next, I was startled when the door suddenly opened to admit the two men I least wanted to encounter at that moment, or ever again.

Hubert and Sandeman.

Hubert looked at my luggage on the floor beside me, ‘We are early birds this morning. So you think you are leaving us?’ he added cheerfully, indifferent to the open mummy case, the blood-stained scarf in my hand.

I held it out. ‘Look!’ And thrusting it at him: ‘Look at this. This belongs to Collins.’

He made no move. ‘Oh, does it?’ He sounded quite indifferent to the enormity of my discovery and what it meant.

‘Yes, it does. And you know how it got here, Hubert.’ I pointed. ‘In the mummy case.’

He smiled, shook his head. ‘I don’t know, as it happens,’ and with his most winning smile, he added, ‘but I know you are going to tell me.’ He sounded patient, a man with all the time in the world.

‘I certainly am,’ I said angrily. ‘You killed Collins and put her body in the case here three days ago. Doubtless you were in haste, but by now you have had ample opportunity to remove her, put her in a more permanent grave.’

He sighed wearily. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Rose. Of course I haven’t killed Collins or anyone else—’

‘What about Cedric?’ I interrupted.

‘Cedric?’ His head jerked upwards. ‘Why on earth should I kill him?’

‘Because he was your blackmailer and I have just been in your 
study to return a fee I did not want for that particular assignment. Looking for an envelope, I found one – containing the photographs you allege were stolen from you.’

He took a deep breath. ‘Oh, those photographs. Did I not tell you? Someone returned them to me. It was Mrs Robson, I think. She found them under Cedric’s bed or somewhere when she was tidying his lodging. Saw an envelope with my address.’

He paused, sighed. ‘A relief, I grant you. I was grateful to her. Most grateful.’ And then, with a puzzled frown, he said, ‘But why do you think I should want to murder Collins?’

‘To keep her silent about the mushrooms. The Destroying Angel, Wolf called it,’ I replied, exasperated, as the two men stood solidly together faintly smiling as if at some secret joke. What made their attitudes even more sinister was the fact that the huge bear was just behind Hubert, its fierce face and yellow teeth grinning over his shoulder.

I looked around for an escape, and it was then that I began to feel scared, thankful that I had Thane at my side. Anticipating an attack of some sort, I did not have long to wait. But I did not realise until too late the reason for my growing awareness of danger.

Hubert was smiling. ‘I am glad we found you here, Rose. I had a feeling you might be about to leave us. Well, well, this is as good a time and place as any for the little ceremony we have in mind. Do you not agree, Sandeman?’

‘I do indeed. Absolutely perfect!’ Sandeman rubbed his hands together in almost boyish glee as Hubert turned again to me.

‘We are here, dearest Rose, for a wedding. Our good friend Reverend Sandeman is to officiate.’

I stared at him. ‘Who is he going to marry?’ 

Hubert laughed. ‘Us, of course, you and me, dearest Rose…’

‘That is impossible—’

‘I assure you it is not. Our friend is an ordained minister and I have all the necessary documents. Indeed, we went into Alnwick the other day, you met us as we were leaving, to acquire a special licence. We even have witnesses waiting out there in the hall. Two of Sandeman’s rather disreputable drinking cronies from the village, at a price, of course. Now we can proceed—’

I sprang back. ‘No, we cannot. I am not going to marry you now or ever, and you cannot make me do so against my will.’

He smiled. ‘Oh I think I can, my dear.’ And from his pocket he withdrew a gun, which he levelled not at me, but at Thane.

‘First, the dog. I will kill him. I think that will change your mind.’

‘You’re insane,’ I said. ‘What do you think we are living in – the Middle Ages? You can’t be a feudal lord in the nineteenth century; your kind vanished long ago.’

He ignored the taunt and said solemnly, ‘You will marry me, Rose – or Thane dies.’

We both looked at Thane. He was very still, so still he might have been one of the stuffed animals surrounding us.

‘That’s good,’ said Hubert. ‘Good dog.’ And to me. ‘If he makes one move, I will kill him.’

He smiled. ‘Well, Rose, and what is your answer now? All I ask is that you are reasonable. Marry me because I love you, have loved you from the first moment I saw you. And the fruit of our consummated love will be a child – the son you will give me – who will one day inherit Staines. After that, if I have not managed to gain your love, then I will set you free – reluctantly, 
of course – to return to your old life in Edinburgh.’

Sandeman regarded him with a grin of triumph and for one horrible moment I thought I must be dreaming. This was the year 1897 and such melodramas belonged in the pages of penny novelettes or grand operas.

‘I am waiting, Rose. I am a patient man, as you know, and am not asking a great deal in exchange for your life and the dog’s – just as long as it takes us to produce a child, a year at most.’

‘There is one small impediment. Even if I agree to marry you, in order to save Thane’s life, you cannot force me to consummate the marriage—’

He looked at me, laughed, and turned to Sandeman, who grinned.

‘Oh, I think two strong men against one rather small girl can do the necessary – do I have to paint the picture any further? You, my dear, can easily be taken by force. And if you are too difficult, then a little starvation might work wonders. We have an abundance of empty rooms – and dark cellars – where you could be kept securely and indefinitely until you changed your mind.’

I could think of nothing to say. I was literally struck dumb by what was happening, the certainty that I was dealing with a madman who would try to get a child by rape if necessary. A madman and a murderer who would not hesitate to kill me in the end, if I failed to produce a child.

‘Is that why you pushed Kate’s mother out of the window – because she could not give you a child?’

‘Yes, that is the truth. He did it. He wanted rid of her.’

The voice came from behind the men. The voice of Collins.

Collins with a gun pointed not at me, but at Hubert.

‘Is this how you repay me for all those years, you devil? Is 
this all I get for giving you a helping hand, getting rid of—?’

‘Collins!’ Hubert yelled. ‘Don’t do this.’

‘You can’t stop me. You want witnesses for your wedding, those two outside, well, you shall have witnesses – for your deaths.’ And turning to me, she said, ‘If I can’t have him, you won’t have him either.’

As she levelled the gun at Hubert I cried out: ‘No, Collins! For God’s sake.’ And in a desperate plea for time, I asked, ‘What happened? We all thought you were dead. Look!’ I held up the scarf.

‘Oh that. He threatened to kill me that night if I interfered with his plans to marry you! He hit me across the face, made my nose bleed. I ran downstairs. I was scared of him and I hid in the case yonder till it was light.’

We stood shocked into stillness. The two with guns wondering who was to make the first move. A tableau to any casual observer with as little life as the stuffed animals and birds, the sole congregation at this unseemly marriage.

Suddenly Thane shook himself, as a dog does leaving the water. A trivial action, yet with it the whole room began to move. As it shook, I thought of earlier reported tremors, of the house built against all warnings on an earth fault made worse by the coal seam.

Now the quivering turned into a rumbling. The rumbling became a roar as the stuffed animals, long dead, were suddenly quivering into life, teeth showing, legs moving, mouths open ready to devour.

Then the great bear lurched forward from its pedestal and caught the staggering Hubert, thrown off balance, in its huge arms, as both fell together in a deadly embrace.

Sandeman made a dive for the gun but Thane got there 
first, held him at bay as birds released from their high branches rained down on us, scattering feathers. Tame cats, wildcats, came to life again, leapt from shelves and fell to mouldering dust as the walls and ceiling rattled around us.

A moment later and it was over. The room no longer moved, and silence reigned. As the choking dust from long-dead feathers and fur settled, we were ourselves again, the nightmare ended and reality restored.

We were not to be buried alive.

I helped Collins, covered in dust, to her feet. Sandeman had rushed out, and we went over to Hubert who was lying still, knocked unconscious by the huge bear, its claws buried deep in his bleeding chest.

Mrs Robson appeared through the dust, her choking turning into a scream when she saw the scene of carnage.

Collins, kneeling by Hubert, looked up at her. ‘Sir has been hurt and the house is about to collapse. Will someone help me please – we must all get out. Don’t just stand there, Mrs Robson. Kate – get Kate before the staircase collapses.’

Mrs Robson continued to stand, staring, unable to believe her eyes. ‘There is nothing amiss with the rest of the house. Nothing at all – just this one room – I don’t understand. And as for you,’ she said angrily to Collins, ‘where do you think you’ve been, scaring us all?’ An appeal that sounded somehow rather inappropriate in the havoc surrounding her.

Two figures appeared at the door behind her. Wolf Rider with Sergeant Sloan, who demanded, ‘What on earth has happened in here?’

‘An earth tremor, that’s what,’ said Collins. ‘What is it like outside – the rest of the house?’

‘I’ve told you if you’d only listen,’ protested Mrs Robson.