Blackstone fell, p.28
Blackstone Fell, page 28
‘And Robert Lejeune left a secret message here?’
‘Yes.’ Rachel smiled. ‘Above an alcove where a fire might burn. A cryptic reference to the Gunpowder Plot. His message was simple: EMRIP.’
‘EMRIP?’
Peggy put a hand to her mouth. ‘Of course! Edmund Mellor RIP.’
*
‘Ask yourself why Edmund Mellor entered the Lodge in a furtive manner,’ Rachel said, ‘and one answer springs to mind. He wanted to hide. Not from Lejeune, whom he trusted. Urged on by his host, he hoped to avoid discovery from his enemies, the anti-papists enraged by acts of terror aimed at overthrowing the establishment.’
‘He was like a priest lurking in a priest hole,’ Peggy said.
‘Precisely. Robert Lejeune was a false friend. He offered to help Mellor and instead lured him to his death. He designed and built the Lodge for that specific purpose. It was a place of execution.’
Jacob stared. ‘This isn’t a vast Jacobean mansion with wide wings and endless passageways. Not an obvious place for a priest hole.’
‘That was the beauty of his plan,’ Rachel said. ‘And no doubt the reason he was able to persuade Mellor that he’d be safe, once he locked the door of the Lodge. The priest hole is so inconspicuous, no one was likely to find it. And nobody did, at least not until Alfred Lejeune came along. He was an antiquary, and I expect his reasoning was the same as mine. The cipher is an impudent clue.’
She pointed. ‘The priest hole, like so many others around the country, is beneath the fireplace.’
‘Have you examined it?’ Peggy asked.
‘Yes. One of Nell’s photographs of the Lodge showed the cipher. Blurred, but just about decipherable. As soon as I made sense of it, I knew where to look. When I borrowed the key from Daphne Sambrook, I cleared the rubbish out of the fireplace and poked around.’
She beckoned them to join her. The base of the fireplace comprised uneven chunks of stone. Propped against the wall was a lengthy strip of ironwork pitted with rust, a combination of hammer and crowbar.
‘I found the crowbar inside the fireplace,’ she said. ‘It looks as if it might date back to when the Lodge was built. Edmund Mellor probably used it. Alfred Lejeune certainly did.’
Peggy peered at the back of the fireplace, and pointed to a tiny gap in the stone. ‘Is that the entrance to the priest hole?’
‘Let me demonstrate.’ Rachel lifted up the crowbar and inserted the claw into the gap. Gritting her teeth, she levered up an irregular section of stone. Once it began to move, it swung open with an ease that took Jacob by surprise. The stone was thinner than he’d expected, and there was a rusty bracket beneath, as well as an iron stave. The stone came to rest against a jutting point on the upper part of the fireplace.
‘Don’t get too close,’ Rachel said, as he moved forward to squint into the space she’d revealed beneath the fireplace. ‘The stone is delicately balanced. One nudge, and you’ll knock it down again.’
‘The gap is large enough for a man to wriggle down into,’ Jacob said. ‘Provided he breathes in. By the look of it, the hole is at least six feet deep.’
Rachel switched on the flashlight to illuminate the space beneath the fireplace.
‘Nobody could stay there for any length of time,’ Peggy said. ‘It’s too tight.’
‘No,’ Rachel said, ‘but there is more to this priest hole than meets the eye. There is a second secret space, hidden beneath the first. Edmund Mellor would be familiar with the principle, but if not, Robert Lejeune will have explained the trick. There are double priest holes of this kind up and down the country. If searchers managed to discover the first priest hole, they’d see it was empty. They seldom realised that someone was hiding out of sight in a lower chamber.’
‘Cunning,’ Jacob said.
‘The unique feature of Blackstone Lodge’s priest hole,’ Rachel said, ‘is that the second chamber wasn’t constructed as a place of safety, but as a death trap.’
Jacob stared into the dark hole in the ground, his imagination whirling.
‘The bottom of the priest hole appears to be solid rock,’ Rachel said, ‘but the rock is simply a wafer-thin covering. Below it is an iron flap. I believe that Robert Lejeune advised Edmund Mellor to haul himself down into the hole and tug on the iron stave, to close the stone covering. He may have lit a candle, otherwise it would be pitch black. Not that it mattered. Mellor’s next task was to open the iron flap. Shall I give you a demonstration?’
Jacob and Peggy nodded in unison. Flashlight in one hand and the crowbar in the other, Rachel lay down on the ground by the edge of the hole, and it dawned on Jacob why she’d chosen to wear a jersey and trousers.
‘Peggy, would you rest your hand on the stone, so that it doesn’t fall down when I’m underneath it?’
The older woman did as she was told.
‘Jacob, grip both my ankles, tight as you can. Whatever you do, don’t let go if you want to see me again.’
‘Is this a good idea?’ he asked.
‘Too dangerous,’ Peggy whispered. ‘If you fall…’
‘I have every confidence in Jacob,’ Rachel said calmly. ‘It’s not difficult. Besides, his life is at stake too. If he drops me into the abyss, Trueman will send him down to keep my corpse company.’
Jacob swallowed. ‘If you’re certain.’
‘I am.’
‘Very well.’
He got down behind her, gripping one of her ankles in each hand. Rachel eased herself forward into the space and thrust the crowbar downwards.
Jacob craned his neck to glimpse what was happening below the fireplace. Rachel’s upper body was poised over the gap. He was conscious of her slender ankles between his fingers, her trim figure right in front of him.
Suddenly the floor of the priest hole gave way like a trapdoor swinging open, to reveal a vertical shaft beneath. Jacob winced at the foul smell. He was staring down into a long, fetid drainpipe.
Peggy let out a little moan of horror. ‘Those poor men!’
‘Seen enough?’ Rachel said. ‘Thank you, Jacob, you can reel me in.’
He pulled her back. They scrambled to their feet and dusted themselves down.
‘What’s down there, do you think?’ he asked.
‘My guess is that Robert Lejeune dug a hole in the underground rock. As you’ve seen, the Lodge is built on a slight incline. A brook runs close to the drive, by the poplars, before disappearing below ground for a little way. Robert probably cut out a channel for it. The first time I came here, I dropped a pebble into the hole, and there was a faint splash. Perhaps there are slight gaps on either side of the bottom of the chamber, and the water runs through a gully. If there’s a storm, the water level rises, but never high enough to come close to the top of the chamber. Let alone to flood the priest hole.’
‘You think Edmund Mellor’s remains are still there?’
‘And Alfred Lejeune’s. Whatever is left of them. Escape would be impossible. Below the priest hole, it’s a sheer drop.’
‘Presumably Alfred’s researches led him to deduce Mellor’s fate, just as you did,’ Peggy murmured. ‘He decided to check to see if his hypothesis was correct.’
‘Yes. He locked the door of the Lodge behind him, so that nobody could disturb him, but he made two mistakes that proved fatal. He didn’t take anyone into his confidence and he didn’t take enough care. I expect he was so excited when he realised the purpose of the crowbar and discovered the priest hole that he couldn’t resist the urge to investigate further. The cover came down over him, and he dropped through the trap.’
Jacob’s face was as ashen as Peggy’s.
‘Never to be seen again,’ he said.
27
Rachel led the way back to Hawthorn Cottage. Jacob glanced at Peggy. Her eyes were glazed with misery. After passing the church, they saw Major Huckerby approaching from the other direction. At his heels was the rector’s dog.
He tipped his hat. ‘Morning, Miss Savernake. I’ve got a new companion, you see. Someone needed to look after Moses. He’s always been a moody brute, but perhaps a change of home will improve his temper.’
‘I’m sure it will. May I introduce you to my friends, Miss Needham and Mr Flint? They are staying at The New Jerusalem and will join us this evening.’
Huckerby shook their hands. ‘Do you know when the medium is due to arrive?’
‘She and her servant are here already. They too are at The New Jerusalem.’
‘My word. No room at the inn, eh? Someone else is staying there, a motor dealer called Mann. Hulking fellow; you wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley, but he’s agreeable enough. Lost his own wife a while back, so I took the liberty of inviting him to come along tonight.’
‘Splendid. I look forward to seeing him, however ugly he may be. Did you manage to persuade Daphne Sambrook’s brother and father?’
‘Yes, I’ve inveigled them into putting in an appearance. Young Denzil promised to bring the professor. Be prepared for snorts of derision.’
‘Miss Curle is accustomed to dealing with those who lack faith.’
Huckerby sighed. ‘Do you really think there is a chance she will be able to make contact with Gloria?’
‘I must be honest,’ Rachel said. ‘I expect that what happens this evening will test you to the limit. Tomorrow, everything will look different in the cold light of day.’
*
‘You certainly know how to handle a car, Hugh!’ Dilys cried as the Wolseley swung round a sharp bend in the lane that snaked across the moor.
Trueman pulled up on the crest of a rise in the ground. The smell of bracken was everywhere. They were a few hundred yards away from the path skirting the deadly quagmire. The sanatorium was ahead of them. To their left, Blackstone Fell rose in the distance. He stared at its man-made rival. From here, the Tower looked forlorn, as if mourning the death of its owner.
‘Cars are like women,’ he said. ‘You need to treat them with respect. Otherwise, they misbehave.’
‘I bet your favourites have plenty of fire under their bonnets!’
‘How did you guess?’
‘This drive has been lovely,’ she said. ‘I’m so glad of a breath of air after everything that’s happened in the village.’
‘Hard to believe, isn’t it? I was saying as much to the major last night.’
‘The pair of you had a long chinwag, didn’t you?’
‘He strikes me as a decent chap.’
‘Oh, he is. Such a shame about his wife.’
‘What was she like?’
‘A gentle soul, quietly spoken. Didn’t think she was better than the rest of us just because she lived in Fell, not Foot. She thought the sun shone out of the major, they were a lovely couple. But there always seemed to be something wrong with her. A cough or a headache or a pain in the back.’
‘She was a hypochondriac?’
‘If that’s what you call it. When Mrs Lejeune took ill, it affected her badly, even though they weren’t close friends. She started getting symptoms, I don’t know the details. She reckoned she was dying. Stopped listening to what her husband said.’
‘Sad business.’
‘Very. The major was terribly cut up when she died. I still like to think it was an accident. Mr Crawshaw tells me I’m a fool. He says that for all his faults, the rector knew a thing or two. Whatever the doctor said, she killed herself. And the major has never been the same since.’
‘Poor devil.’
‘He does his best to keep cheerful. I love to see him so often, but when it comes to the booze, he’s his own worst enemy.’
‘So are a lot of people,’ Trueman said. ‘I bet the doctor would say the same.’
She nodded. ‘Dr Carrodus is very sympathetic. I’ve heard him more than once telling the major not to blame himself for what happened to Mrs Huckerby. Not that the major takes any notice. He just gets in another round of drinks.’
‘Dr Sambrook was knocking them back last night. He wasn’t in the best of moods.’
‘He’s getting to be as grumpy as poor Mr Lejeune.’
‘Maybe his patients are giving him a rough time.’
She sniffed, but said nothing.
‘What is it?’ When she hesitated, he pointed to the wide-open countryside. ‘You don’t have to watch what you say with me, you know. Nobody is eavesdropping. And I’m no blabbermouth.’
‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m sure you’re not. It’s just that… I’m starting to think there’s something funny going on at the sanatorium. It’s not like it used to be.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘They’ve got rid of a lot of the staff. Go back a couple of years, and nurses would come in to The New Jerusalem for a drink after their shift. One or two of them lived in Blackstone Foot. But they’ve gone and the people who do work there are stand-offish. We never see them.’
‘Denzil Sambrook still drinks at the inn.’
She shrugged. ‘Apart from the doctor and the major, he hasn’t got any other friends, as far as I know. And they aren’t really close. Just people to booze with.’
‘He seems to have fallen out with his father.’
‘I wouldn’t know about that. The professor has always kept himself to himself.’
‘And he doesn’t have much of a good word to say about his sister.’
‘He finds her embarrassing. Just because she’s rather plain and has that dreadful scar.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh yes. I’ve overheard him, talking about physical perfection. Anyone would think he’s Conrad Nagel!’
‘Has he always been like that?’
Dilys considered. ‘It’s got worse lately, but he’s always had some funny ideas.’
‘So I gather.’
‘The other day, he asked me about Blackstone Tower. Whether I’d like to live there.’
‘Really? What did you say?’
‘I thought it was some kind of joke. I said Mr Lejeune would never want me there, and I certainly didn’t fancy being under the same roof. Dr Sambrook just laughed.’
‘Was he drunk?’
‘He’d certainly had a few. He said buying the Lodge was just the start. Harold Lejeune would sell the Tower before long. He asked if I thought he’d make a good lord of the manor.’
‘And did you?’
‘I know better than to upset the regulars, Hugh. Doesn’t matter if they are patting my backside or talking nonsense about Blackstone Tower. When he asked if I fancied working there, I just gave him a sweet smile and said I’d better get on with cleaning the glasses.’
‘So he wanted to employ you?’
She shrugged. ‘So he said. But I didn’t understand what he had in mind, and he’s never mentioned it since.’
*
In mid-afternoon, Trueman arrived at Hawthorn Cottage. Peggy Needham had returned to The New Jerusalem. The horrors of the past few days had left her with a bad head and she wanted to take a nap so as to be ready to take part in the séance.
‘You came in the Wolseley?’ Rachel asked.
He nodded. ‘As instructed.’
‘Good. Quite apart from collecting our friend from the station, this evening’s entertainment won’t finish until late. I don’t want Peggy Needham tripping up on her way back to The New Jerusalem and breaking her neck. You’d better give her a lift. Now, what have you been getting up to?’
Trueman reported his conversations in the bar as well as his trip across the moors with Dilys.
‘She’s got a soft spot for you,’ Martha said.
‘She can have him,’ Hetty said, without looking up from her knitting.
Rachel glanced at the clock. ‘Time to go.’
Trueman jumped from his chair. ‘See you later.’
‘What about Denzil Sambrook?’ Jacob turned to Rachel as the door closed behind the chauffeur. ‘Why would he talk to her about Blackstone Tower?’
She stretched languidly in her armchair. ‘We already knew that he is eager to add the Tower to the family trust’s portfolio of properties.’
‘If it was left to me, I’d raze it to the ground, along with that vile death trap, the Lodge. I can’t imagine why he wants to buy such an eyesore, but Lejeune’s death will make it easier for him to lay his hands on it.’
‘Marginally, perhaps. But perhaps not. Probate lawyers are capable of snarling things up for years. In any case, even before he died, Lejeune was preparing to desert Blackstone Fell for warmer climes. Probably in the company of Judith Royle. He was simply haggling over the price. I suspect they’d soon have reached a compromise, greedy as he was.’
‘Greedy?’
‘Yes,’ Rachel said. ‘His greed for money lies at the heart of this whole murky business.’
‘So you think he was blackmailing…?’ Jacob began, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door.
Martha showed Ottilie Curle and Abdul into the sitting room. The medium cast a sceptical eye over Daphne Sambrook’s garish paintings. She and Rachel shook hands. Abdul bowed.
‘Mr Flint has told me something about you, Miss Savernake,’ the medium said. ‘But I must say your motives seem as mysterious as anything in the spirit world.’
Rachel smiled. ‘Thank you for humouring me.’
‘Jacob Flint left us with little choice,’ Ottilie Curle said wryly. ‘What you propose is quite extraordinary.’
‘Put it down to my taste for the theatrical,’ Rachel said. ‘Now, perhaps the two of you would like to join me next door, so that I can explain what I’m hoping to achieve? Jacob, perhaps you can entertain Martha while we await our next visitor.’
‘Peggy Needham?’ Jacob asked.
Rachel smiled. ‘Not Peggy. One of our old acquaintances.’
*
‘Checkmate,’ Martha said, moving her bishop.
‘Well done.’ Jacob frowned at the board. ‘I never realised you were such a good player.’
‘Rachel taught me when we were on Gaunt. She needed an opponent and we spent hours together, learning the moves and the methods of the masters. I can give her a game, but mostly she wins. Once in a blue moon, though, she makes a mistake.’
