Postcard killers

Chapter 105

Lyndon was right .

The house was enormous, and it looked like something from a horror film set in the English countryside. Senor Rodriguez may have done his best to keep the building in good condition, but his lame old body had no chance against the wind, the damp, the weeds, and the ivy. One window frame had slipped its hinge and was squeaking in the wind.

This was where it al began, wasn't it? The murders – the mystery of the Rudolphs.

"The electricity has been cut off in the main house," the gardener said apologetical y as he unlocked the oak door.

Jacob's footsteps echoed in the grand stone hal way. Doors stood half open, leading into high-ceilinged rooms and down long, dark corridors.

He took a quick look into the various rooms where Sylvia and Malcolm had once lived.

The whole building seemed to have been emptied of its contents. Jacob noticed a single curtain in a library that was empty of books.

"The master bedroom is on the second floor. Fol ow me."

A magnificent curved staircase led up to the more private parts of the mansion.

Pale rectangles on the wal s revealed where paintings had once hung. A battered rococo sofa, its stuffing hanging out, stood alone and dusty on the first landing.

"Straight ahead," Carlos Rodriguez said.

The bed was stil there, an ornate four-poster without curtains or bedclothes. Otherwise the room was empty.

"So this was where it happened?" Jacob said.

The gardener nodded.

"And you were here that night?"

He nodded again.

"What did you see? Tell me anything you remember. Please. It's important."

The man swal owed.

"Terrible things," he said. "Blood al over this room. Mr. and Mrs. were lying dead in that bed. They must have been asleep when it happened."

"Did you see their injuries close up?"

The man ran his index finger like a knife across his throat.

"Deep cuts," he said. "Almost through to the bone at the back of the neck."

He gave an involuntary shudder as Jacob watched him closely.

How did you come to be here, in your employers' room in the middle of the night? I don't understand."

The man took a deep breath, then spoke.

"I was asleep with my family when Senorita rang. I hurried here straightaway."

"It wasn't you who found them?"

"No, no. It was little Sylvia."