Harriett (34 page)

“
When did you last see the watch?”

“
It was when Alan Bentwhistle and his men took my
grandfather’s body out of the house. I didn’t think to ask for it
to be taken off him at the time because I was so upset. Afterward,
when my grandfather had gone, I realised he still had his watch on
him.”

“
You know with certainty that he was wearing it that
day?”

“
Yes, at breakfast he took it out and looked at it before he
said he had to go to an appointment at the solicitors. By the time
he got to the front room he felt poorly, so I sat him down in front
of the fire. I don’t know what happened but, within about an hour,
he passed away. I was upset and sent for the Doctor, who said it
was his heart.” Helena’s voice was sad but calm. “I know he has
passed on to the other realm, but I miss having him here to talk
to.”

“
Passed on to the other realm?” Mark asked with a
frown.
Good Lord, don’t tell me this is
someone else who believes in the ridiculous notion of
spirits?
Mark cursed ruefully and watched
with a sinking feeling when Helena glared at him
defiantly.

“
Heaven, Detective Inspector. My grandfather went to
heaven.”

Mark
made no attempt to raise issue with her declaration. She could
think what she liked; it was of no concern to him, as long as she
was clear about the facts about her grandfather’s fob
watch.

“
Can you provide us with a drawing of the watch?”

Helena
rose and handed him a neatly folded piece of paper that rested on
the mantle. Mark glanced at the perfect drawing of a fob-watch,
with its chain, before he handed it to Isaac.

“
I take it that you have searched the house?”

“
From top to bottom, on more than one occasion, but it isn’t
here. I know that grandfather was wearing it when Mr Bentwhistle
took him to the funeral parlour.” Helena sighed and resumed her
seat. “I think you should know that I have reason to understand
that Bentwhistle Funeral Directors is in serious financial
trouble.”

“
How so?” Mark shared a look with Isaac.

“
My father owns a timber yard in Yorkshire, which supplies the
funeral trade with wood for coffins. One of his associates has
mentioned that there is a funeral directors who has a sizeable
account outstanding and isn’t forthcoming with the funds to make
payment. Rumour has it that he is in serious financial difficulty.
It’s Mr Bentwhistle.”

“
Have you heard any gossip in the village about
it?”

Helena
smiled wryly. “I am afraid that I am not really in the gossiping
circles, Detective. I am more one of the people who are gossiped
about on account of who I am.”

“
Who is that then?” Mark asked curiously.

Helena
didn’t answer, merely lifted her tea cup and took a sip. Seconds
ticked by before she slowly replaced her cup on the table before
her. “I have been told to tell you that your deceit will get you
rich rewards, but you have to be careful that it doesn’t trip you
up in the long term.”

“
Pardon?” Mark frowned at her and knew instinctively what she
referred to. His thoughts immediately turned to his use of the
séance to declare that Harriett was his wife. He had every
intention of reaping the reward of that particular piece of
subterfuge. Unfortunately, there was also the issue of Babette’s
secret journeys out at night, which he hadn’t mentioned to Harriett
yet, mainly because he didn’t know if he was looking for ghosts
where there were none.

“
You need to be honest with those around you and resolve
matters before they come to a head and put blocks into your pathway
that shouldn’t be there. I can assure you, with certainty, that you
will get what you want and there will be a wedding on
20
^th
December of this year.”

Mark
felt his blood run cold. He couldn’t break his gaze away from her
even though her words made the hairs on the back of his neck stand
on end.

“
Your grandmother passed away at the end of May, and used to
love tea and Battenberg cake. She is bringing that to you now to
bring the sweetness back into your life. You have worked long and
hard at your job, but she wants you to ease back a little and enjoy
some of the softness life can offer you. I also have a Hugo
Montague here. He is very distressed and anxious. He is glad that
the lady next door is looking after his cat. He knows she will do a
good job of it but he keeps muttering about the vase. The clue is
in the vase. He wants you to find it for him. It isn’t where it
should be and he begs you to look for the vase. He is giving you a
ball of string but it isn’t a neatly wound up ball of string, it is
a tangled mess.” Helena frowned off into the distance as though she
could see something nobody else could. “He is showing me an image
of a green vase and he is winding the string around it. I can only
assume that if you find the vase you will unravel the tangled
mess.”

Mark ran
over her words and was flummoxed. He struggled to find a reasonable
and sensible explanation for what she had told him, while an image
of the vase in Hugo’s sitting room window hovered in the dark
corners of his mind. The pretty green vase had captured the
sunlight and been striking, even to him. He turned his attention to
the woman seated next to him and studied her carefully. Where was
she getting this information from? Was she involved in the murders?
Why? What link did she have to the Psychic Circle?

“
It is a tangled mess at the moment, I don’t mind admitting to
you, but we will get to the bottom of it. It is what we do.” He
didn’t know what else to say. Until he had the time to analyze what
she had told him, and consider how she could get hold of such
information, he couldn’t really form an opinion.

“
The charlatans you have amongst you at the Psychic Circle
will be unable to provide the facts and the figures of people’s
personal details, officer. I suggest that if you want evidence, you
should start to pin the so called ‘clairvoyants’ down a little on
smaller details that only your nearest and dearest in the higher
spiritual realm can provide you with, like personal preferences,
dates of death, that kind of thing. The lack of answers from those
who are masked will unveil the rogues.”

Isaac
scribbled furiously in an attempt to get as much of her revelations
down as he could. He was as stunned as he was horrified, but
intrigued by the entire thing.

“
I don’t have anything else for you, Detective
Inspector.”

“
Have your friends in the higher spiritual realm not told you
where to find the fob watch?” Mark half-joked, and was stalled by
the direct stare Helena gave him.

“
They haven’t told me directly because they don’t want me to
challenge the person responsible myself. It is their job to protect
me from the negativity on the earth plain, and they are keeping the
identity secret. As an officer of the law, you have the capability
to be swift and efficient in ensuring that the culprits responsible
for the thefts, and the murders, are brought to justice before any
more harm is done. They have told me that my grandfather’s fob
watch and the vase were taken by the same person.”

“
Is that person also responsible for the murders?” Mark
wondered if this was a strange kind of séance where oblique
references and vague hints didn’t actually mean
anything.

“
A very small amount of what you have received at those
séances was actually accurate, Detective. Pushing the glass
yourself proved to you that deception can be achieved at that kind
of thing. You needed to know, and found that out for yourself.” She
smiled when Mark flushed guiltily. He was stunned. She hadn’t even
been there and he hadn’t told anyone what he had done, not even
Harriett. How on earth could Helena have known? “Don’t worry, they
understand and accept that you needed to do it. They warn you to
watch those closest to you. She has to be protected, you
understand?”

“
Of course. I am doing everything I can.”

“
It’s not enough, Mark. They are warning you that it is not
enough.”

Isaac
sighed and put his book away. Mark looked just as stunned as he
felt. Deep in thought, he jumped when Helena appeared before
him.

“
You need to look deeper into the annoyance you feel for
her.”

“
Pardon?” Isaac replied warily. He had absolutely no belief in
the paranormal at all and like most sane people on the ‘earth
plain’, considered it stuff and nonsense, but there was something
about the way Helena studied him that made him feel as though she
was stripping his emotions bare and he hated it. He turned away
only to pause at her next words.

“
The distrust will turn to passion and you will get what you
want in the end.”

Manners
dictated that he should not insult the woman in her own home and he
wisely kept his mouth shut. It took every ounce of fortitude to
quirk his lips and nod at her politely as he followed Mark closely
toward the door.

Mark
frowned at her and wondered if she was issuing some kind of veiled
threat. If she had of been at the séances, he would have arrested
her there and then but she hadn’t been anywhere near, so what was
her motive? He briefly considered the factual information she had
given him, well, as factual as it could be right now, and once
again thought of Mr Montague’s vase. Was she involved in some way,
or was she playing some kind of trick?

“
If you get anything else, or hear of anything else, please
let us know as soon as possible.”

“
Of course I will.” Helena followed them out of the room and
stood beside the front door. “She will be alright. She isn’t meant
to go over to the higher side for a good many years yet. You just
need to stay close to Tipton Hollow right now. Well, as close as
you can be.” The warning was written in her eyes and all Mark could
do was nod before he swept out of the door.

Once
outside, he took in a deep breath of fresh air but it did little to
ease his worries. It wasn’t that he felt threatened or warned, it
was just that something was driving him forward; compelling him to
uncover the truth, and quickly. For the first time in nearly two
weeks, he felt a sense of urgency that hung over him like a dark
cloud.

Isaac
moved to stand beside him. “Whew. Thank God that’s over. Let me
tell you something boss, the next time you want to go there to
interview her again, you are bloody well going alone.” Isaac knew
he could get the sack for speaking to his boss like that, even
though Mark was more of a friend than a superior but didn’t really
care.

Mark
coughed uncomfortably and could understand his sentiments. He had
no intention of going back there again either. Not without
Harriett, a large cross and a bible in his hand.

“
I understand, Isaac, but we have to look at this logically.
She is either the thief or the murder, or both, or bloody good at
playing guessing games. Yes, she could know about the timber
merchants through gossip. She could have known about my association
to Harriett through the gossip about our engagement. After all, I
made the announcement of our engagement at the séance, and it is
bound to be talked about.” He shared a glance with Isaac. “But I
think we have to be fair about this. First and foremost, I think we
have to pay a visit to Hugo Montague’s house and take a look for
that vase. If it is still in the window where I last saw it, I
think we can put all of her predictions down to her living in that
old mausoleum by herself for too long. If the vase has gone,” he
puffed out his cheeks and blew a breath, “then I think that we have
to take what she has said seriously, and look for ways to unravel
the thefts in case Bentwhistle is the thief and has killed people
to protect himself. The vase may be the clue after all, just like
the lady says.” He frowned and studied the gravel beneath his
feet.

For some
reason, the thought that she had known he had pushed the glass at
the séance on purpose to falsify a message plagued him.

Isaac
shook his head and kept his gaze firmly locked on Tipton Hollow,
which was situated a little way ahead of them.

“
Hugo Montague’s next?”

“
Definitely.”

Neither
man could think of anything else to say.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

The
flat was still and quiet, and the air dank and musty when they
entered it later that morning. It had only been a few days since
Hugo had died, yet dampness already hung in the air. Mark actually
felt quite unnerved when he opened the door to the sitting room and
looked at the empty table in front of the window.

“
Shit,” Isaac sighed and glanced around them. “I’ll take the
bedroom and kitchen, you check in here.”

They had
discovered from the neighbour that Alan Bentwhistle had borrowed
the key from her in order to get some clothes for Hugo to be buried
in, and had yet to return it. The neighbour did however, have
Hugo’s cat, and had been busy cuddling it when she had answered the
door.

An hour
later, Mark brushed dust off his hands and watched Isaac reappear
in the doorway with a dark scowl on his face.