The Dark Side of the Road

Seven

I took my time climbing the long winding staircase to the next floor. Partly because I had a lot of thinking to do, but mostly because I wanted to give the others time to get ahead of me. I didn’t want anyone at my back. In fact, by the time I got to the top of the stairs, I was alone on the landing. Everyone else had hurried inside their rooms, and all the doors were firmly closed. It was very quiet.

I strolled down the corridor, all the way to my far-off room, and stopped before the door. I looked at the stylized image of the red rose, and then leaned forward and listened carefully. I couldn’t hear anything inside the room. Couldn’t smell anything, either. But I still had a feeling of being watched; so I took my time getting my key out of my pocket, and then looked quickly back down the corridor. No less than four doors that had been closed were now cracked open just a little, so people could peer out. The doors all slammed shut in a hurry as they saw me looking, like so many firecrackers going off. I smiled, unlocked my door, and then sent the door flying inwards with a push of one finger. It swung all the way back to crash against the inside wall, with a satisfyingly loud noise. The room inside was very dark, very still, very quiet.

I reached inside and found the light switch. A pleasant yellow glow filled the room, showing it to be completely empty. I remained where I was, in the doorway, looking in. I didn’t feel at all embarrassed, or even self-conscious, at taking these necessary precautions. Being so very careful, all the time, is what has kept me alive all these years. I listened, carefully. I could hear people moving about in their rooms, further down the corridor. I could even hear them talking, quietly and far away. Muffled, as though underwater. It all seemed peaceful enough, nothing worrying or out of the ordinary, so I entered my room.

I shut the door firmly, but didn’t lock it. I had a distinct feeling people would be coming to talk with me. To say things they wouldn’t or couldn’t say to someone they actually knew. To tell me things in private that they would never dare say in public. People have always found it easy to talk to me; perhaps because they can sense I won’t be so quick to judge them.

I looked around my room. The yellow light was warm and comforting and easy on the eyes. The rose-patterned wallpaper somewhat less so. The fire was still crackling cheerfully in the fireplace. I went over to it and studied the flames thoughtfully. Jeeves had been very firm that I needed to tend the thing, to keep it from going out. I knew you had to feed it coal, regularly, but not too much or you’d smother the fire and it would go out. But beyond that … I took a piece of coal from the scuttle, dropped it on to the fire, considered the effect, and then added another piece. That should do, for a while.

I did some more looking around. Everything was just as I’d left it. No one had entered my room. If they had, I would have seen their footprints in the thick carpet. Smelt their perfume, or their aftershave, or just their scent. My battered old suitcase was still sitting on the bed. I picked it up, carried it over to the massive oak cupboard, opened the door sharply, and when I was sure there was no one hiding inside it, I put the case in and shut the door again. And then, I sat on the edge of the bed, to do some thinking. I didn’t change into pyjamas, because I don’t wear such things, and I didn’t lie down on the bed because I had no intention of sleeping. I didn’t sit in one of the oversized chairs provided, because that was where people would expect to find me.

I’m not really a detective. Usually, by the time I arrive on the scene all that stuff has already been taken care of. The Colonel’s people will have worked out what and where and when, and will usually have a pretty good idea as to who and why. The Colonel gives me a name, or an identity, and then it’s up to me to track them down and take all necessary measures. On those occasions when I am called in to solve a mystery, it’s because the local field agents have run dry and the Colonel is depending on me to pick up the slack because I have a knack for the unusual. And even then, the Colonel will have amassed a really thick file for me to read on the way in, to bring me up to speed.

Belcourt Manor gave every indication of being both a murder and a mystery. which might or might not be connected. A horror has come to Belcourt Manor … It wasn’t like the Colonel to be so dramatic. Why couldn’t he just say what he meant? Did he expect his letter to fall into enemy hands? Did he expect his father to open it, and hadn’t wanted him upset? What could be so horrific that the Colonel didn’t even want to hint at it?

Questions without answers. Best to stick to the situation at hand. Work it through. Who killed the Colonel, and why? And why kill him in such an extreme manner? So far, it seemed I was faced with two main possibilities. One; the Colonel was killed by the horror. Whoever or whatever that might turn out to be. Or two; he was killed by whoever sent the death threats to Walter. I sat up a little straighter as a third possibility suggested itself. That this was the result of something out of the past. The Colonel’s past. The trailing end of some old investigation; something missed or overlooked at the time.

The one thing the Colonel had feared the most: that his family might be punished for the life he’d led.

The Colonel and I had worked a number of cases together. Usually, I was left to run my assignments alone. I preferred it that way. If only because it meant there would be fewer questions to answer afterwards. But sometimes the Colonel would just turn up. Not to take charge, and not because he didn’t trust me to do things properly, but because he was interested. Like the Case of the Trans-Siberian Underground Railway. I had no trouble remembering that one.

It started with people going missing, and then turning up again hundreds of miles away from where they should have been. I followed the clues, and the Colonel followed me, and we ended up going underground, into the deep dark places of the Earth. I could still remember running through endless caverns, miles and miles beneath the surface of a country that doesn’t even exist any more. Following the long silver railway lines as they stretched away into the darkness, only illuminated by the phosphorescent glow of a blue moss growing in thick mats on the curving walls. Some said, if you ate or smoked the blue moss it would blow the doors of perception in your mind clean off their hinges. I wasn’t tempted.

I just kept running, following the tracks and the trail of blood left by the horrible laughing thing ahead of me. The Colonel stuck close at my side, just about managing to keep up. I could hear his lungs labouring as he struggled. I couldn’t afford to slow down, for fear the Damned Thing would get away. And then, there was what was coming after us … Every now and again, the Colonel would turn and fire his machine pistol back down the tracks to slow our pursuers down. I never did learn the name of the local agent they’d already killed, drowning out his screams with their awful piping laughter.

The Colonel emptied his machine pistol and hurried after me, fumbling in his pockets for another magazine. And then he made a tutting sound, and shrugged easily, as he realized he’d run out of ammunition. He didn’t say anything, just ran along beside me, trusting me to catch the villain and find us a way out.

And then, there was the Appalling Affair of Roger Styles.

Just a small fishing village, tucked away in some forgotten part of the Cornish coastline, where the locals still took their boats out every day, whatever the weather. The Colonel told me to book into the village’s one and only hotel, and inquire about the fishing. I did sort of hope it might be my long-delayed vacation time. I should have known better.

The moment I started my innocent inquiries, the hotel owner couldn’t wait to bend my ear over all the troubles the village had been having. Fishing boats going out, and never coming back. Nothing left for Search and Rescue to find; not even bits of wreckage or a body floating in the water. Fishermen told of seeing things, shining white, down in the very depths of the sea. Things big as churches or cathedrals, or bigger still. Some of the fishermen were afraid to go out, and it takes a lot to scare a Cornish fisherman. And then there was Roger Styles. The man who was not a man, and never wanted to be.

The Colonel set himself up as bait. Sitting there on the old wooden bench, on top of the cliff, looking out to sea for hours on end, with only an improving book for company. Sitting there till the sun went down; waiting for Styles to come and get him. To shut him up, because of all the things the Colonel had been saying so loudly in the local tavern. I was there too; hidden and waiting. The Colonel sat at his ease, the bait in his own trap, trusting me to do whatever might be necessary. To take Styles down and save the Colonel’s life.

And, of course, there was the last case we worked together, in deepest, darkest Peru. In that horrible hidden city on the Plateau of Leng. A cruel place and a cruel people; if you could even call them people. The roots of their family tree didn’t lie in the earth, but in the stars. The buildings in that city were older than human civilization; huge and blocky, actually unnerving to look at for too long. Their aesthetics hadn’t been meant for human eyes. Everything seemed to lean at some unnatural angle, and their proportions didn’t add up to any whole my mind could accept.

There were windows that showed shifting views of other places, some of them beyond human comprehension. The Colonel vomited every time he looked into a window, so he stopped looking. I couldn’t bring myself to stop, because every now and again I thought I glimpsed something … familiar.

I remembered the Colonel kneeling in an open square, concentrating on the terrible thing he’d brought with him. I stood guard, while he programmed the nuclear device and set the timer. We weren’t taking any chances with the awful people of Leng.

I remembered them all. Old cases, old faces; moments from a past filled with thrilling incidents. I could have sworn we hadn’t left a single loose thread anywhere.

I felt suddenly tired and old. With the Colonel gone, there was a tremendous gap in my life. Every time I remembered I’d never speak to him again, it was like someone kicked me in the gut. I hadn’t realized how attached I’d become to the man, down the years. All the things we’d seen, and all the things we’d experienced, that we could never talk about to anyone else. I never told him my secret, but sometimes I thought he knew. He never brought it up, and I never volunteered. Probably each of us thought we were protecting the other. The Colonel had given my human life a sense of purpose, of direction. He made me believe that the work I was doing mattered. That I mattered.

What was I going to do now?

I made myself concentrate on the situation. If the killer really was one of the people here at Belcourt Manor, what motive could they have for killing the Colonel? Some things had become clear, even in the short time I’d been here. Khan and Melanie were either having an affair, or about to start one. Suppose Khan wanted Walter dead, so he could marry Melanie and take control of the company that apparently meant so much to him … Yes. I could see Khan doing that. He’d worked for Black Heir. You learned to do the cold, hard, necessary thing if you wanted to get on at Black Heir. It wasn’t a place for a man with a conscience.

And then there was Melanie herself. Did she want Walter dead, for her own reasons? Could she be playing Lady Macbeth to Khan, urging him on to remove the only obstacle in their way? If the Colonel had overheard something, noticed something he wasn’t meant to, tried to protect his father … Yes. I could see that happening.

Next, Diana. Who had already told me how much she missed living at the Manor and all that went with it. What would she do to get her old life back? Did she perhaps plot to kill Melanie, so she could remarry Walter? The girl I remembered from Paris would never have been capable of doing anything so cold-hearted, let alone kill her own son, but Paris was a long time ago. People change.

Roger wanted Penny; that was obvious to anyone with an eye or an ear. What would he be prepared to do to get her? And then, there was Sylvia. Could she have acquired a taste for the good life, travelling with Diana? Could she be running some scheme to grab some of that good life for herself?

Bringing up the rear, as the least likely suspect and therefore not to be ruled out: Walter himself. Besieged on so many sides. If he decided someone else’s death would make his little world safer and more secure … he was quite capable of ordering any number of things done. Especially if he thought Khan was after his wife … Or could it be that Walter had never really wanted his son to come home? Had there been some terrible, unspoken insult, never forgiven by either side? Could Walter have killed his own son for daring to come home again?

Was that why Jeeves was here? An ex-soldier, maybe even an assassin, posing as a butler; hiding in plain sight? No one else knew him from before … Could Walter have sent the death threats himself, to justify Jeeves’ presence?

Everyone at Belcourt Manor had motives for murder, but none for killing the Colonel. Unless he just … got in the way. No one had expected him to turn up here when they were making their plans. Perhaps someone just saw him as an obstacle to be removed. But the manner of the Colonel’s death still disturbed me. Why saw the man’s head off? There seemed every indication it had been done after he was murdered. There had to be a reason. Sawing a man’s head off is hard work. Takes a fair amount of time, too. The Colonel must have been drugged first, to keep him from fighting back. There was no other way an experienced man like the Colonel could have been taken down … There was no shortage of opportunities for someone to drop a little something into all the food and drink available. The Colonel couldn’t have refused any of the seasonable fair, for fear of raising suspicions.

There was a knock at the door. Solid, authoritative, even peremptory. So I just sat there on the end of my bed, letting them wait, until I finally said, ‘Come in.’ The door swung open immediately, and Alexander Khan strode in, acting like he owned the place and was already thinking of evicting me. I’d thought he’d be my first visitor, given that he was the most likely person to be on his own, because there was no way Melanie was going to leave Walter on his own. Khan closed the door carefully behind him, and then looked quickly round my room, as though he wanted to make sure I hadn’t been given a better room than him. He took his time before he looked at me, and when he did, it was almost defiantly.

‘We need to talk,’ he said.

‘What’s the matter?’ I said. ‘Annoyed you can’t be with Melanie?’

‘That is not what I came here to talk about!’ said Khan.

‘You knew who the Colonel was, knew what he was, from your time at Black Heir,’ I said.

‘I’d heard of the Colonel, of course, but I never knew he was Walter’s son until he turned up here,’ said Khan. ‘I never met him before in my life. But he knew me. He made a point of talking to me, away from everyone else. Told me he knew why I’d had to leave Black Heir.’

‘Because you stole alien technology from their vaults,’ I said. ‘To buy your way into Walter’s company.’

‘I was never a thief!’ said Khan. ‘I was Prometheus, stealing fire from alien gods to give to Humanity! It wasn’t fair for Black Heir to keep all those wonders locked up, benefiting nobody!’ He stopped and looked at me for a moment. ‘How did you know … Did your father tell you?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I never knew him. But I did read the Colonel’s files on everyone here, before I set out.’

I’ve always been able to lie convincingly, without benefit of rehearsal. Part of the job. Part of staying alive.

‘Of course you know,’ said Khan, his shoulders slumping just a little. ‘Everyone knows. Even Black Heir.’

‘They know you stole from them?’

‘Of course! They knew what I was going to do before I did it. They encouraged me … In return, I gave them some of my shares in Walter’s company. Outside money that they could use to fund things they weren’t officially supposed to do. You really think I could have stayed alive all these years, if Black Heir had still wanted my head?’ He stopped again, looked at me squarely. ‘Did you ever work with Black Heir, on any of your missions for the Colonel?’

‘You know I can’t talk about that,’ I said. ‘Why are you still so concerned about Black Heir? You don’t work for them any more.’

‘You’re never really free of them,’ said Khan. ‘Look! This isn’t what I came here to talk about!’

‘So talk,’ I said. ‘Who do you think killed the Colonel?’

‘James was never the target,’ said Khan. ‘Walter was always the real target. I think James just overheard something he wasn’t supposed to, or got in the way.’

‘Spit it out,’ I said. ‘Who do you think wanted Walter dead?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ said Khan. ‘It’s Roger! Has to be Roger. Because he wants Penny, and he thinks she is only turning him down because her Daddy disapproves. Behind that boyish facade, Roger is a very dangerous and single-minded young man.’

I let that accusation hang on the air for a while and considered Khan thoughtfully. ‘Are you sure you’re not just saying that because Roger isn’t going to give you the money you want from him?’ I said finally.

‘You have been keeping your eyes and ears open,’ said Khan. ‘Watch Roger. That’s all I’ve got to say.’

‘And you and Melanie?’ I said. ‘Just good friends?’

‘Can’t stand the woman,’ Khan said briskly. ‘But she is my best way to influence Walter, so … I will do whatever I have to do, to keep the company from going under.’

He turned quickly, hauled the door open and left my room, not quite slamming the door behind him. He’d said rather more than he’d probably meant to, in return for as little as I could give him. A useful enough first conversation. No real surprises, and a few things confirmed.

I sat on the edge of my bed, leaning forward just a bit as I listened to Khan walk quickly back down the corridor to his room. He didn’t stop along the way, to talk to anyone else. I heard his door shut. There was a pause, and then I heard more footsteps, moving slowly and steadily up and down the corridor. Which was odd, because I hadn’t heard a door open. The footsteps went this way and that, stopping at one door after another, but no one knocked, or opened a door. And then the footsteps just … stopped. I couldn’t hear anything. I got up off the bed and moved quietly over to my door. I opened it slowly, not making a breath of sound, and looked out into the corridor. There was no one there. The whole length of the corridor was completely empty. Someone had walked up and down and then just … disappeared. I sniffed at the air and couldn’t smell anything. Which was odd. I closed my door and went back to sit on my bed.

I’d barely had time to settle down and start thinking again, when I heard new footsteps approach my door. There was a quick, impatient knock, and then the door flew open before I even had a chance to invite anyone in. Penny came tripping into my room, beaming happily, only just remembering to shut the door behind her. I started to get up, and she immediately waved for me to sit down again. So I did.

Penny paced restlessly back and forth before me, speaking so impatiently that the words all but tumbled over each other. She had a lot she wanted to say. ‘I waited as long as I could!’ she said. ‘But I just had to come and talk to you! Isn’t this exciting? I mean; an actual murder! And terribly sad, of course, because your friend is dead, after all. Don’t think I don’t feel that, because I do, but … This is just the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me! So; I’m just bursting with theories and suspicions, and I had to talk to someone about them, and you’re the only one here who isn’t a suspect.’

‘You couldn’t talk to Roger?’ I said, just to make a point.

‘Don’t be silly, darling. Roger has many good qualities, though I’d never tell him that to his face, but a fully functioning brain isn’t one of them. If he ever needs anything difficult or distasteful doing, he has people to do that for him. And as for spotting a murderer, unless the killer was wearing a black and white striped jersey, a black domino mask, and a hat with Killer! written on it, Roger wouldn’t recognize him.’

‘So who do you think killed the Colonel?’ I said.

Penny stopped pacing and threw herself into the nearest heavily-padded chair. It didn’t budge an inch under the impact. Penny crossed her legs and waggled the top one fiercely. ‘There are so many secrets in this house, in this family; I really don’t know where to start, darling.’

‘Try,’ I said.

‘James was definitely Diana’s son,’ said Penny. ‘But I’m not at all sure Daddy was his father. I’ve heard a great many rumours, from people in a position to know, that Daddy married Diana when she was already pregnant with another man’s child.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ I said. ‘Though the Colonel could be a real bastard, when the need arose …’

‘Ishmael!’ said Penny, putting a shocked hand to her mouth. ‘What a thing to say! Here I am trying to spare your feelings by being discreet …’

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘We all grieve in our own ways.’

‘Yes, well …’ said Penny. But she was too full of things she needed to say to stay shocked for long. ‘Then there’s the letter James left for you. I mean: A horror has come to Belcourt! What do you think he meant by that?’

‘Too many possibilities,’ I said.

‘Then there’s Alex Khan, of course. Running after Mummy like a dog in heat.’ Penny shuddered delicately. ‘They think they’re being so discreet … But if Alex really thinks he can get to Daddy through Mummy, he’s in for a rude awakening. Mummy’s always been a lot smarter than most people realize. She’d never do anything to endanger her meal ticket. You don’t think Daddy just “happened” to bump into her at that grubby little sales conference, did you? She put a lot of hard planning into getting that job and choosing just the right outfit to attract some rich old fool. When she set her cap at Daddy, he didn’t stand a chance.’

‘And you know all this because …?’ I said.

Penny grinned. ‘People really shouldn’t keep diaries. And certainly not ones with such fragile locks. I know all I need to know about Mummy dearest.’

She paused for the first time, to look around my room. ‘I don’t think I’ve been in here for years. There aren’t usually enough people at these little gatherings to fill all the guest rooms. You must never forget, Ishmael; Mummy wants all of this, more than anything. The house, and everything that goes with it. I think it’s possible she would kill to keep it. If she thought Daddy was going to sell it, after all … If she thought Alex was trying to take control of everything away from Daddy … and if poor James got caught in the middle … I think it’s entirely possible Mummy could commit murder. To protect her interests.’

‘You’re being very hard on your parents,’ I said.

‘They should have been better parents,’ said Penny. ‘You might have noticed, my family isn’t a real family. As such.’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ I said.

Penny sat forward in her chair, immediately contrite. ‘Oh, of course! You said you were an orphan.’

‘Something like that,’ I said.

Penny frowned. ‘Sometimes I think … Daddy never let himself get close to me, for fear I’d go away and leave him, like James. You’ve no idea how much that hurt Daddy. He couldn’t bear to go through it again.’

‘The Colonel had his reasons for staying away,’ I said. ‘You saw what he said in his letter.’

Penny waited, until it became clear I wasn’t going to say any more, and then she just sniffed, loudly. ‘You’re much better off without a family, darling. They do so complicate things. Mummy, for example, was never really interested in children. She only had me to make sure of hanging on to Daddy. I don’t think I want to talk about my parents any more.’

‘All right,’ I said. ‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘Well, there’s Alex, obviously. The man who sold his soul, for a company that was never his and almost certainly never will be. Who knows to what lengths desperation could drive such a man? But, my best bet would have to be Sylvia.’

‘Really?’ I said. ‘Why?’

‘Oh, come on, darling; do try and keep up. She’s the only one here we don’t know anything about! She’s from outside the family and nothing to do with Daddy’s business. Who is Sylvia, really? Just another sweet-smiling gold-digger, with Diana as her latest meal ticket? Or … did she deliberately ingratiate herself with Diana, in order to get herself invited here? Could she, in fact, be responsible for the death threats? Perhaps she was married to someone Daddy fired, who then committed suicide, so Sylvia swore to make Daddy pay, and-’

‘You’re reaching, now,’ I said.

‘I know!’ said Penny. ‘Isn’t it fun?’

We both looked round sharply, at a sudden knock on my door.

Penny was up and out of her chair in a moment. ‘I don’t want anyone to know I was here!’ she hissed.

‘Hide in the cupboard,’ I said.

‘What?’ Penny looked at the massive oak cupboard on the other side of the room. ‘In there? Are you serious?’

‘It always works in bedroom farces,’ I said reasonably. ‘Would you expect someone to be hiding in someone else’s cupboard?’

‘Well, no, but …’

‘I was always a big fan of the Brian Rix farces,’ I said. ‘He understood the importance of a cupboard. Go on; get in there!’

Penny hurried over to the cupboard and opened one of the doors. There was more than enough space for Penny to hide in. She stepped carefully inside, shot me a quick glare, and then pulled the door almost but not completely shut.

‘Come in!’ I said brightly.

The door opened, and Roger slouched in. He pushed the door shut behind him, peered around, and then glowered at me.

‘You took your time, leaving me standing around out there. Don’t want the others to get the idea I’m sneaking around behind their backs.’

‘Even though you are,’ I said.

He scowled miserably, looked down at his shoes, and then straightened up to face me squarely. ‘Have you heard someone moving about, in the corridor? Just … walking up and down?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘But when I looked, there was nobody there.’

‘I knew I heard someone!’ said Roger. ‘Far too much sneaking around going on in this house. Look, I need to talk to you. Man to man. Can’t talk to the others. This family of Penny’s has secrets like a dog has fleas. Can’t start a conversation without tripping over something you’re not supposed to talk about. They think they’re so good at hiding things … They should have grown up with my family.’

‘What were they like?’ I said.

‘Evolution in action,’ said Roger. ‘Survival of the fittest, and trample the weakest underfoot. Everyone out for themselves and scrambling all over each other to get ahead. I figured out early on that I couldn’t compete. Wasn’t hard enough, or self-centred enough. So I just retreated into the background and did my best not to be noticed. And now every single one of them, every brother and sister and aunt and uncle and cousin, hates my guts. Because I’m the one who inherited everything!’

He grinned broadly. ‘Oh, that put the cat among the pigeons! Mum and Dad died in a car crash, and the will left everything to me. Not even a bequest to anyone else, despite all those years they’d spent trying to crawl up Mum and Dad’s arses. I think the will was my parents’ last act of revenge, on a family they couldn’t stand …’ He stopped and looked at me. ‘You know; you’re remarkably easy to talk to.’

‘I get that a lot,’ I said.

‘Anyway! That isn’t what I’m here to talk about. I want to talk about the murder!’

‘All right,’ I said. ‘Who do you think killed the Colonel?’

‘Spoilt for choice, old man!’ said Roger. ‘James was the only one in this family that Walter really cared about. Harsh though that is. And, James was the only one here who couldn’t be bought or pressured or used, to get at Walter. So of course he had to go. He should never have come back. All he did was put himself in the line of fire.’ Roger smiled broadly again. ‘See? I’m a lot smarter than most people think. I notice things. I learned to fade into the background, so the rest of my family wouldn’t notice me, but that’s the best way to see what’s really going on. Walter is the key to all this. Alex wants Walter’s company and his wife. Diana wants Walter, so she can have her old life back. Don’t ask me about Sylvia, though … Haven’t a clue what she really wants. Far too cheerful and charming and everybody’s friend for my liking. It’s not natural. People like that are always after something. When I look at her, I see a professional at work. But what kind of professional …’

‘And Penny?’ I said.

‘Only one here who’s worth a damn,’ Roger said steadily. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to protect her, but I’m not sure I can. Not sure I know how. It seems to me … that if we have got a killer trapped in this house, they’re going to strike again. That’s what killers do, isn’t it? And I think … the next victim could be Penny. Don’t ask me why I think that; I just do, all right? I can’t be with her all the time; she won’t let me. So I’m asking you to help. Help me watch her, protect her. If you have any idea how much I feel for her, you know how hard this is for me. I don’t know you, don’t even like you much, but I’m forced to turn to you. Because there’s no one else here I can trust. Still; even while you’re watching and protecting Penny, you keep your distance. Because she’s mine. And don’t you ever forget that.’

He swept out of my room, only remembering not to slam my door shut at the last moment.

Penny immediately stepped out of the cupboard, smiling and shaking her head at the same time. ‘Isn’t that just typical of the man? He can be so sweet, and then … so infuriating! I don’t need him, or you, to protect me! I can look after myself!’

‘Never doubted it for a moment,’ I said.

‘I never knew all that stuff about his family … Poor dear. They sound perfectly awful. It does explain a lot about him, though, doesn’t it?’

‘Explains a lot,’ I said, ‘but not necessarily all. What does a man do, when he finally gets all the money he needs to do everything he’s ever dreamed of … and then finds he can’t have the one thing he really wants?’

‘You are not seriously putting Roger forward as a suspect?’ said Penny. ‘He wouldn’t hurt a fly!’

‘They’re always the ones you have to watch,’ I said. ‘How was the cupboard?’

Penny wrinkled her nose. ‘Full of mothballs.’

‘I didn’t know moths had-’

There was another knock at the door. I looked at Penny, and she nodded resignedly.

‘I know; back in the cupboard.’

I waited till Penny was safely hidden again, and then invited in my next visitor. Who turned out to be Sylvia, looking as glamorous as ever. She swayed into my room quite elegantly, as though entering a fashionable salon. She waited for me to get up, and then graciously pretended not to notice when I didn’t. She didn’t sit. She struck a pose before me and fixed me with a cool, thoughtful stare.

‘Ishmael; I have a proposition to put to you.’

‘Oh yes?’ I said. ‘I am flattered.’

‘Down, boy. I am being entirely serious here. I think we should leave this place. Just bundle up, walk out of the house, and go.’

‘Really?’ I said. ‘Just like that?’

‘Why not?’ said Sylvia. ‘What have we got to lose? Horrible place, Belcourt Manor. Wish I’d never come here. It’s not like we’d be leaving behind anything that mattered. We’re not family, or friends, or business partners. I only came here to attend a party! A pleasant Christmas gathering. Good times, with convivial spirits, that’s what I was promised! Not a nightmare like this, where no one trusts anyone. With a killer who could be sneaking up behind us at any time. No; I want out of here. I don’t feel safe in this house. If the cars really aren’t an option, we’ll just have to walk. I’m not an idiot; I can hear the blizzard outside, just like you. But if we prepare ourselves properly and strike out across the fields … Look, I don’t want to do this on my own. But with you beside me, I think we could make it to the next village, and safety. What do you say?’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I said. ‘Not until I know who killed my Colonel.’

Sylvia sighed and threw a dramatic glance Heavenwards. ‘Why are the good men always so stubborn? Are you sure I can’t tempt you?’

‘No,’ I said.

‘So, it would appear I’m staying after all,’ said Sylvia. ‘You were the only one I thought might have the guts to make a break for it. Ah well.’ She turned to leave.

‘Wait a moment,’ I said quickly. ‘Who do you think the killer is?’

‘Haven’t a clue,’ she said. ‘I don’t know these people. I barely know Diana. I’d better get back to her. I only popped out for a moment, while she was sleeping. I don’t want her to wake up alone.’

‘But you would have left her here, if I’d agreed to go with you,’ I said.

‘It’s all about survival, sweetie,’ said Sylvia. ‘I’ve always been able to do what’s necessary, to survive.’

‘Tell me,’ I said. ‘Have you heard someone walking up and down, in the corridor?’

She looked at me sharply. ‘I wasn’t sure … I thought I might be imagining it. Have you seen anyone?’

‘No,’ I said.

Sylvia shrugged, bestowed one last dazzling smile on me, and left, shutting the door very quietly behind her.

Penny was immediately out of the cupboard again. ‘What a cow! Ready to just go charging off and abandon Diana, and leave everyone here trapped in the house with a killer! After everything Diana’s done for her! And after everyone here went out of their way to make her feel at home! Survival … Yes, I know her type! I really must remember to say something especially catty and cutting to her over breakfast tomorrow. Look, I have to go, Ishmael. Before anyone else turns up.’

‘Keep your door locked,’ I said.

‘Are you kidding? Of course I’m going to lock my door! I won’t be able to sleep tonight. I’m going to jam a chair up against the door, and then sit up all night with a really absorbing book. While keeping a poker from the fireplace close at hand at all times!’

And with one last quick smile, she was gone. My room seemed so much quieter, and emptier, without her.

I sat and thought, about everything I’d learned so far. I might not be a detective, but everyone else seemed to be going out of their way to help. They all had their own theories and suspicions, their own secrets and surprises, and a need to place the blame squarely on somebody else. I was now in possession of some interesting background information I hadn’t been aware of before, which helped me to understand these people better. But nothing particularly useful. I was still no closer to understanding who had killed the Colonel and why.

There was another knock. I looked at the door. I was getting just a bit tired of visitors. I had to struggle for a moment, to think who was left.

‘Come in,’ I said.

The door opened, and Melanie stepped inside. She shut the door quickly and gave me a brief, preoccupied smile.

‘I can’t stay long,’ she said. ‘Or Walter will miss me. I’ve only just got him settled; I don’t want him to wake up and find me gone. I’ve got Jeeves standing outside his door, with his gun at the ready … I really believed he was just a replacement butler! And a sight better than some we’ve had … You know, you could stand up when a lady enters your room …’

‘I’m tired,’ I said. ‘What do you want, Melanie?’

‘I never knew James. Your Colonel. He was Walter’s son, from long before my time. James belonged to Walter’s life with Diana, and I always stopped listening whenever he started to talk about that. Until he learned not to. I think you should keep a careful eye on Diana. I think she wants my Walter back. And the house, of course. And everything that goes with it. She still thinks of this house as hers. And I believe she’d do anything, absolutely anything, to get what she wants.’

‘Does that remind you of anyone?’ I said.

‘No,’ said Melanie. ‘Should it?’

She didn’t seem to get the inference, so I moved on. ‘Do you really think Diana would murder her own son?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ said Melanie. ‘Nothing in this house makes sense any more …’

‘How do you feel about Alexander Khan?’ I said bluntly.

Melanie was immediately defensive. ‘How do you mean?’

‘Do you see him as a suspect?’ I said.

‘Oh, I see,’ said Melanie. ‘Well, I don’t know … I wish Walter had never invited any of these people. We should have celebrated Christmas alone, just the two of us, like I wanted. Everything was going fine until all these people turned up! Excitement like this is very bad for Walter … I won’t have him upset! He needs his peace and quiet.’

‘Why did you come to see me?’ I said.

‘To warn you about Diana,’ Melanie said firmly.

‘That’s it?’ I said.

‘Isn’t that enough?’ said Melanie.

She turned her back on me and strode out, closing the door behind her very firmly, as though to cut off any comment I might make. I wasn’t sure what to make of Melanie. Could any woman really be as self-centred as she appeared to be? Perhaps only a woman that self-centred could carry out a murder right in the middle of a family gathering. She did seem very protective of Walter; if she saw him threatened by James’ return … Or saw her own position with Walter threatened by James and Diana … I was still thinking my way through that, when there was another knock at my door.

Before I could say anything, the door burst open and Jeeves and Cook strode in together. Cook kept a watchful eye on me, while Jeeves peered back out into the corridor, to check no one was watching. He closed the door, and then the two of them took up a position side by side before me, shoulder to shoulder, as though they belonged together. The tall black butler and the short blonde cook. Except they no longer looked like a butler or a cook; they looked a lot more like soldiers.

‘Good evening,’ I said. ‘Do come in. No doubt you’re wondering why I summoned you here …’

‘Flippancy will get you nowhere,’ said Jeeves. ‘It’s time for the truth to come out.’

‘I’m all in favour of that,’ I said.

‘Leilah and I are a husband and wife security team,’ said Jeeves. ‘We were hired to provide security for Mister Walter Belcourt, for this weekend get-together. Things seem to have got a little out of hand.’

‘So we thought it was time we asked you a few leading questions,’ said Leilah. She produced a small handgun from her Victorian cook’s outfit and aimed it at me. She looked like she knew how to use a gun. I sat very still.

‘Leilah and I always work together on assignments,’ said Jeeves. ‘One obviously, the other less so.’

‘We’re here to interrogate you,’ said Leilah.

‘Is that so?’ I said. ‘Why me in particular?’

‘You’re the outsider,’ said Leilah. ‘No one here knows you. You claim to work for the deceased James Belcourt, but we only have your word for that. I’ll bet you don’t even have a Security ID, do you?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘The Organization I work for doesn’t officially exist. People who need to know, know who we are.’

‘Well,’ said Leilah. ‘You would say that, wouldn’t you?’

‘You can see why you make such a good suspect,’ said Jeeves.

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I’m sure I’d do the same, in your shoes. Those are your shoes, aren’t they? Good. What can I do for you?’

‘He’s being flippant again,’ said Leilah.

‘Ask the questions,’ said Jeeves.

‘Ask away,’ I said.

‘You can start by telling us everything about yourself,’ said Leilah. ‘Who you really are, who you really work for, and what you’re really doing here. Everything we need to know, to protect our client. You talk, and we’ll tell you when to stop.’

‘And if I don’t care to do that?’ I said.

Leilah grinned nastily. ‘Then I will beat it out of you. I’m really very good at that. Ask Jeeves.’

I looked at him. ‘You’d let her do that to me? A possibly entirely innocent bystander?’

‘Let her?’ said Jeeves. ‘I plan to stand well back to avoid getting blood on me, take notes and cheer her on as necessary. We’re not police, we’re not government, and the only rules we follow are our own. That’s how we get results.’

Leilah waggled her gun at me, in a meaningful manner. ‘Start talking.’

I came up off the end of the bed in a rush, slapped the gun out of Leilah’s hand, grabbed her by the front of her cook’s outfit, and threw her on to the bed. She hit it with enough force to drive the breath out of her. Jeeves was already going for his gun as I closed in on him. I grabbed his arm with one hand and squeezed the muscle until he groaned with agony. All the strength went out of his hand, and the gun dropped from his nerveless fingers. I caught it, and then grabbed Jeeves by the front of his butler’s outfit and threw him on to the bed, next to Leilah, who was only just getting her breath back. I picked up her gun from the floor, and then stood at the end of the bed, training both guns on their previous owners. I wasn’t even breathing hard. Jeeves and Leilah glared at me from the bed and didn’t move a muscle.

‘Damn,’ said Jeeves. ‘You’re fast. And very well-trained. All right; I’m convinced. To be able to take us down that easily, you must work for the Organization.’

‘And, I am not a suspect,’ I said.

Leilah scowled at me. ‘You can say anything you like while you’re covering us with our own guns. But you’re still a suspect. It would take someone as cold-blooded and expertly trained as an Organization agent to kill James Belcourt in such an extreme way.’

‘I thought we’d agreed I couldn’t have been here when the Colonel was killed?’ I said.

Jeeves did his best to shrug, while lying on his back. ‘The cold changes everything. Who knows when he was killed, really?’

‘Fair enough,’ I said. I tossed both their guns back to them, and they caught them expertly, out of mid air.

‘Please get up off my bed,’ I said. ‘You make the place look untidy.’

Jeeves and Leilah rolled off different sides of the bed and were immediately on their feet again, each with a gun in hand aimed at me. I raised an eyebrow. Jeeves and Leilah looked at each other, as though each was hoping the other would have some idea what to do. In the end, they both shrugged more or less simultaneously and put their guns away.

Leilah looked at me defiantly. ‘I suppose you expect us to trust you, just because you’ve given us our guns back?’

‘I don’t trust anyone in this house,’ I said. ‘And neither should you. Tell me, before you go. Who do you think killed the Colonel?’

‘We only care about that as it pertains to protecting our client,’ said Jeeves. ‘Are you sure the attack on the son is connected to the father?’

‘Don’t you think that?’ I said.

‘I strongly suggest you stay in your room until morning,’ said Jeeves. ‘And lock your door. I’ve managed to contact my people, and they’re hoping to have someone here by tomorrow. Leilah and I will spend the night standing guard in the hallway. Perfectly ready to open fire on anything that moves that isn’t us.’

‘I was surprised to see both of you up here,’ I said. ‘Leaving poor Walter unattended.’

‘Melanie has the door locked,’ said Leilah. ‘And with the whole place shut down, we can hear anybody moving about.’

‘Really?’ I said. ‘You weren’t my first visitors tonight. I’ve spoken to several people, and they all reported hearing someone moving about up here, in the corridor. But whenever someone went to look, there was never anybody to be seen.’

Jeeves and Leilah looked at each other. ‘Have you seen anyone moving about up here, Ishmael?’ said Jeeves.

‘No,’ I said. ‘But I’ve heard someone.’

‘It’s an old house,’ said Jeeves. ‘Maybe it’s haunted.’

Leilah winced. ‘Don’t. I hate ghosts.’

They left together, and I locked the door behind them. And then I went and sat in the most comfortable-looking chair and thought hard for a long time.

Some time later, my head snapped up. I sniffed the air and was up on my feet in a moment. I hurried over to my door, unlocked it, and hauled it open. I sniffed the air again. The next door but one to mine opened, and Penny looked out. She hadn’t changed out of her day clothes, and she had a heavy iron poker in her hand.

‘Oh, it’s you!’ she said. ‘I thought I heard someone on the move, and this time I heard a door opening, so I thought I’d take a look. What’s wrong? Why are you looking like that?’

‘Can you smell anything?’ I said. ‘Like meat burning?’

Penny sniffed hard, and then shook her head. She looked at me doubtfully. ‘We’re a long way from the kitchens, Ishmael.’

And then we both looked round sharply as a horrible scream sounded from the far end of the corridor, by the stairs. Penny and I ran towards it.