The Haunted Lady (22 page)

‘Didn’t anyone question the fact that there were two occupants in the cab on the way out and only one on the way back?’ I asked.

‘My father thought of that, so he returned via a different checkpoint, using the cover story of a road blockage and cursing the West Berlin authorities for not clearing it, forcing him to take a diversion. That was another of your father’s ideas.’

‘It must have been a very large van to cope with such a lot of furniture,’ Michael remarked.

I think it was nothing more than a flippant remark, but sometimes a comment made in all innocence can have unforeseen and dramatic consequences. This was one such occasion. ‘It was quite large,’ Jäger replied, ‘but even then it would have struggled to cope, but for the fact that some of the furniture was packed flat for assembly at its destination. Which reminds me,’ he turned to Chloe, ‘do you still have the table? Do you have any idea what it contained?’

‘What table is that?’

It didn’t need Jäger’s sigh or his reply to gauge his reaction, the disappointment was etched on his face. ‘If you have to ask that question then you don’t have it, and that means you don’t know about what it contained. That is a terrible shame. Your grandfather spent many hours making that table and it was a masterpiece of cunning design. The table was constructed in two matching halves that were fixed together using the oblong legs as spacers on all four sides. When it was assembled for use it was a rectangular dining table, but for the purposes of the delivery it looked just like one of those pieces of cheap timber that are used to stand things on to protect them in transit.’

Eve’s gasp of astonishment matched my own.

‘The pallet,’ I exclaimed.

‘You know of this?’ he asked.

Eve started to reply, but I cut in before she could say much. ‘Ask Herr Jäger if the name Bellini means anything to him.’

She didn’t need to, his expression spoke volumes. He began to answer my question before Eve translated it. In the excited gabble that followed, one word stood out, clear and stark. The word was ‘
vier
’. Eve was still looking stunned when I sought confirmation from her. ‘Did he say there were four? Does that mean there were four Bellini miniatures hidden inside that table, not just the two we already know about?’

Eve nodded and was about to say something, but had to pause as Jäger began to speak again, his tone slightly calmer and more measured. Inside the first couple of sentences I heard another name I recognised. It even seemed to ring bells with Michael and Chloe. Once Jäger stopped, Eve told us what he’d said, speaking slowly and carefully. ‘Hidden inside that table were four Bellini miniatures plus two larger paintings by the Dutch artist Vermeer. They were “acquired” by his father following the end of the Second World War. He bought them very cheap from someone anxious to visit South America. That is the family’s euphemism for a war criminal keen to escape justice. The paintings were given to Andrew and Devorah for two reasons. The miniatures were to be sold. Two of them would pay the family’s ransom to get to the West the other two would pay for their upkeep once they reached safety. The two larger paintings were a wedding present, a dowry if you like.’

I turned to Chloe and Michael. ‘In Bennett’s ledger he sold two Bellini miniatures on behalf of Chloe’s mother, but there’s no mention of him selling the other two, or the Vermeer works. That leaves several unanswered questions. First, were the other paintings sold? In which case, what happened to the money? If not, we must assume they are either still hidden in that table, or they are somewhere in Elmfield Grange. That’s one fact we need to ascertain. The other is even more serious. Let’s suppose that after the two Bellini miniatures were sold the ransom money was paid. We know that they raised a whacking great sum of money. What we don’t know is who was entrusted to deliver the ransom, and if that person reneged on the arrangement and double-crossed them. If the money was handed over in line with the arrangement, how come the family weren’t able to escape? Somewhere along the way
somebody
pocketed the cash. That’s a terribly cynical act, at the expense of people waiting and hoping to move to a better life. There are a lot of imponderables in what I’ve just said, but there’s one thing I
am
totally certain of, and that is the need to re-examine that container with proper lighting as a matter of extreme urgency.’

‘Why is it so urgent?’ Michael asked. ‘It’s still at the museum. Surely if the container has been hidden away for all these years, a while longer won’t make any difference?’

‘There has already been one attempt to break into the museum storerooms. Now we know what the thieves were after we should remove the table and its contents before they try again.’

‘Hang on,’ Eve said, ‘if someone is determined to get hold of that container, surely they would be watching the museum? If they see us removing it wouldn’t that simply switch their attention to the new location?’

It was a valid comment, so we hatched an elaborate plan involving diversionary tactics. To put these in place we enlisted the help of the museum’s curator. Evans was more than happy to cooperate once I explained the need for the ruse. I think it made an exciting change from the routine of his average day. We also required a vehicle. That stumped us for a while, but Michael was able to supply the solution. ‘A member of the congregation at St Mary’s has a removals business. I feel sure he would be happy to lend us a van. With luck he will provide a driver too.’

––––––––

W
e travelled to Dinsdale early that afternoon. At Elmfield vicarage the party separated. Michael and Chloe transferred to the borrowed van, with the owner, while Eve and I continued in my car, along with Jäger. ‘We need to give them enough time to load the van and get well clear of the museum before we approach,’ Eve explained to him.

‘It will also give us chance to see if they are followed,’ I pointed out. ‘If there is no sign of another vehicle trailing them it might mean that the diversion hasn’t worked and we’d have gained nothing. That stresses the importance of us keeping out of sight but close enough to watch the traffic.’

‘I assume that’s why you brought those binoculars with you?’

‘Absolutely correct.’

As Eve was telling Jäger this I slowed down, searching for a suitable parking place. Her response to his comment made him chuckle. Eve explained, ‘Herr Jäger says you would have made an excellent agent.’

‘And what did you say?’

‘I told him that anyone less like James Bond would be hard to imagine.’

There was a large open area opposite the museum. One corner of the park had been given over to a children’s playground, the remainder being used for walking or as a picnic site. The river ran along the far side of the park, and I could see a couple of fisherman trying their luck on the bank. I found an ideal place, far enough away to avoid attracting attention, yet close enough to observe everything that was happening.

Our decoy van was parked alongside the main entrance to the museum, its tailgate dropped to allow for loading. As we waited I scanned the vehicles parked in and around the museum grounds. I couldn’t be certain, even with the aid of the binoculars, but I thought there was a driver in one of the cars.

Ten minutes or so after our arrival we saw Michael and Chloe, who, along with the curator, the caretaker and the removals man were carrying a large rectangular object out of the museum and loading it onto the van. Although it was draped with a blanket, the dimensions and the number of people needed to carry it suggested that it was the right size and weight. If someone had been trying to get hold of that container, they would hopefully assume that it was now about to leave the museum for its new resting place.

With the ‘object’ placed in the van and the tailgate secured, Michael stood talking to the curator and his assistant for a moment before shaking hands with them. It was obvious that he was thanking them for their help with the loading.

As Michael climbed into the van, we switched our attention to nearby vehicles. My suspicion that one of them was occupied was confirmed immediately. When I’d looked before, the sun had made it impossible to be certain, but now, with a passing cloud obscuring it, the interior of the car was clearly visible. I passed the binoculars to Eve, pointing out the vehicle in question. She had a quick look before handing them to Jäger. ‘I think that’s the man we’ve assumed to be Lumsden,’ I commented.

Jäger agreed, and any remaining doubt vanished when the car edged out into the line of traffic some distance behind the van on its short journey to St Mary’s Church, where Michael had arranged for assistance to offload the cargo.

I waited until both vehicles were well out of sight before I drove into the museum grounds. In line with the curator’s instructions I ignored the car park and drove round to the rear of the building, where a roller-shutter door opened as we approached. I reversed up to the door. There was just enough space for the container to be propped up in the boot, and having thanked Evans and the caretaker we set off in the opposite direction to that travelled by our decoy.

Rather than driving directly to Laithbrigg I opted to take a more scenic route along a series of narrow winding country lanes. ‘Why are we going the long way round?’ Eve asked.

‘I want to make certain we don’t have unwelcome company. There were a couple of cars that I had doubts about earlier, but they both turned off.’

By the time we reached the outskirts of the village I was certain we hadn’t been followed but, to make doubly sure, when we reached Eden House I reversed the Range Rover into the garage. Once Eve had shut the doors, with some effort the three of us lifted the contents from the car boot so we could inspect them.

After only a few seconds Jäger spoke, his voice cracking with emotion.

‘He remembers this extremely well,’ Eve told me. ‘He used to sit in his father’s workshop watching him make this.’

‘His father was obviously a master craftsman, because this is a superb piece of work. I think we ought to wait until Michael and Chloe return before we examine it further, though.’

Curbing our impatience to search for the secrets within the container was a testing experience. However, in order to allay suspicion as to the true whereabouts of the box we had arranged for Michael and Chloe to wait until the following day before returning to Eden House. This was intended as part of the subterfuge to throw others off the scent. Although I didn’t believe that Lumsden was responsible for the murders it was clear that mine was a minority opinion. Both Eve and Jäger were convinced that the Stasi agent had killed Bennett and Harfleur.

‘It is part of the indoctrination process the Communists subject their agents to,’ Jäger told us. ‘They intend all their operatives to place no value whatsoever on human life. He would have been trained to wipe out anyone who was in his way or who threatened him without any more feeling than if he was swatting a fly.’

‘That may be so, but I don’t believe their brainwashing techniques would blind their agents to common sense. Lumsden would have nothing to gain and everything to lose by committing those murders. Furthermore, how would he know that Bennett and Harfleur were involved in Kershaw’s scheme to hide whatever is in that container?’

‘If he didn’t know about it, how come he was watching as Michael and the others loaded that pallet onto the van, and why follow them unless he thought they had something of value in it?’

‘That doesn’t prove anything. He might have been drawn to the museum simply because Harfleur’s body was found there.’

‘That doesn’t make sense, Adam. If he didn’t know that Harfleur and Bennett were involved there would be nothing to lead Lumsden to believe the museum held anything of value or interest to him.’

Eve had a point, but I was still reluctant to yield to my original theory and I was determined to prove that I was correct. Unfortunately, Eve’s description of my attitude was far less than flattering. Eve can be a fierce critic at times.

What neither of us had considered was the third possibility, that Lumsden might have been aware of what was inside the museum, but hadn’t committed the murders.

Unfortunately, next morning I had to phone Michael and Chloe and ask them to defer their visit. The reason was the shock news brought by Johnny Pickersgill, who arrived at our house shortly before ten o’clock.

I let him in but knew immediately that something was seriously wrong, not only by his expression but by his refusal of my offer of tea. ‘I’ve been sent to fetch you and Eve,’ he told us. ‘DI Hardy wants you to come to Elmfield immediately.’

My first thought was that something untoward had happened either at the vicarage or at Chloe’s house. The news Johnny gave us was even more shocking. ‘Tom Fox’s cleaning lady went to his cottage this morning. She found his body in the lounge.’

‘Oh dear!’ Eve responded immediately. ‘I assume from the fact that Hardy asked us to go there that it wasn’t a heart attack that killed him?’

‘No,’ Johnny replied. ‘Sorry, I put it badly, but we’re all upset. Uncle Tom isn’t dead – not quite. He would have been if he hadn’t been a smoker. Someone attempted to kill him, but instead of being stabbed through the heart, the blow was deflected by the cigarette case he was carrying in his shirt pocket. The blade nicked a blood vessel and he’s critically ill, but the doctors are hopeful that he’ll pull through. By the look of it, the attacker is the same person who murdered Bennett and Harfleur.’

The news was horrifying. We both liked Fox, whose cheerful demeanour masked a dedicated public servant, both in his role as a police officer and latterly as a councillor. We travelled to Elmfield in silence, reflecting on this latest near-tragedy. We had little doubt that this crime was connected to the mystery surrounding Andrew Kershaw and his family, but could not work out what that link was. Two basically decent local inhabitants had been ruthlessly murdered and, but for luck, Tom would also have perished, for which there could be no valid motive.