Legacy of Greyladies (17 page)

‘There aren’t any bolts on the inside of the connecting door. There used to be. You can see the marks, but someone took them off years ago.’

‘Then you should have more bolts put on, ma’am. And before the day is through.’

Ethel nodded, then asked again, ‘Why would anyone want to trip
me
up? It’s not likely to have killed me if I fell.’

‘To get rid of you for a while?’

Ethel clapped one hand to her mouth. ‘Oh! So
you
would be without protection.’

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Phoebe couldn’t help smiling. ‘Is that what you’re doing? Protecting me?’

‘Yes, ma’am. Major Latimer asked me to keep an eye on you before he left.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I think, if you don’t mind, I should move into a bedroom near yours for the time being. That connecting one, perhaps. So that I can come and help you if you’re attacked.’

Phoebe could see no fault in this. She realised she had her hand on her stomach again, as if instinctively protecting her baby. She’d been doing that quite a bit lately. ‘Good idea.’

‘And we should take the gun to bed with us.’

‘I suppose so. What about you, Cook? Do you want to sleep downstairs as well?’

‘No, ma’am. I like my own bed. But I’m taking my rolling
pin upstairs with me every night and I’d be grateful if you’d have bolts fitted to the inside of my bedroom door while you’re at it.’

‘Of course.’ Phoebe took a last look at the rope, shivering slightly at the thought that someone had been walking round her house while she was asleep.

Well, they wouldn’t do it again!

Ethel informed the soldier on guard outside the house of what had happened and he reported it to Captain Turner, who came to the kitchen door immediately, together with the doctor, since they didn’t have a key to the connecting door, there being only one in existence.

The two men examined the rope but were unable to figure out who could have done this, or why. As to how they’d got into the house, they must have had a key.

‘Excuse me, sir, but can you send someone down to the village to fetch Walter? He is the policeman here and he ought to know about this, so that he can keep an eye on certain people.’

‘Good thinking, Ethel.’ He looked at Phoebe. ‘Will you be all right at night from now on or would you like me to station one of the men inside your house?’

She shook her head. ‘Thank you, but no. I’d prefer to keep everyone who doesn’t live here out.’

Walter came up to the house as soon as he heard. He might walk stiffly, but he was dressed smartly in the old-fashioned police uniform he’d worn when he was the village bobby. He was well liked because he was always ready to help if there was trouble, either in his official capacity or unofficially.

Joe was trailing along behind him.

‘Couldn’t stop the lad following me,’ Walter grumbled to Phoebe. ‘What’s the world coming to when people have to rely on old codgers like me and young lads like him to defend the village?’

He was shown into the kitchen and with a jerk of his head, he invited Joe to follow. ‘Keep quiet, though, unless you have something important to say.’

Joe nodded, looking round eagerly.

Walter also had to admit that he was baffled as to how anyone could have got in, or why they would have wanted to hurt Ethel.

Joe put up his hand, as if he was still in school.

‘Well?’ Walter asked.

‘If Ethel was hurt, it’d be easier for them to get into the house and attack Mrs Latimer. Can I keep watch here at night? Can I? I won’t go to sleep.’

Walter opened his mouth to answer, then shut it again and frowned. ‘Might be a good idea, Mrs Latimer. It’s up to you, of course.’

‘Did my husband ask you to keep an eye on me?’ Phoebe asked.

He wriggled uncomfortably, then nodded. ‘Keep an eye on the house at night, the major said. He’s paying me to do it, too. So I sleep in the mornings and go out after dark. But this morning my mum woke me up and said she’d heard there’d been a break-in here, so I got up again straight away and came to see.’

‘That Hatterson did it,’ Ethel said suddenly. ‘I know it’s him.’

Joe shook his head. ‘I didn’t see him or anyone else come out of his cottage last night, and I was nearby all the time
because I wanted to see if there was a signal to him from the big house. But I didn’t see anyone go in or out.’

Walter was still frowning. ‘Could I see the other side of the connecting door, sir? Before you open it, though.’

‘I’d like to see it too,’ Phoebe said.

They all walked round the outside of the house, leaving Cook, properly dressed now, muttering over the kettle and clattering her pots around.

Captain Turner had a soldier keeping guard on the connecting door, so gestured to him to move aside.

An elderly internee came to the door of one of the big common rooms to watch them, but he stayed at a distance and no one told him to move away.

Phoebe joined the commandant at the door and together they examined the lock. She tried desperately hard to remember exactly what the big old-fashioned lock and the woodwork round it had looked like. ‘I think some of those scratches weren’t here when I last went through it.’

Joe sidled hesitantly up to join them, as if expecting to be sent away. Ethel followed him more confidently.

‘A few of them look like new scratches to me,’ the boy said.

‘They are new scratches,’ a voice with a heavy German accent said from the other side of the entrance hall. ‘I don’t sleep well, so I get up before the others. The rug was out of place and one corner folded under, so I came across to straighten it.’ He shrugged. ‘We are old, don’t want to fall. I see the scratches near the lock and wonder who has been tampering with it.’

‘Do you know about locks, sir?’ Ethel asked.

‘Yes. I was a jeweller and sometimes people brought locks
to me to unfasten on their trinket boxes. Over the years I learn a lot about how to mend simple locks. Why is the wood scratched, do you think?’

‘Someone broke into the old house last night,’ Ethel said before anyone could stop her. ‘We’re trying to find out how, but they locked up after themselves, so we weren’t sure how they did it, whether they came through here.’

‘I can look inside the lock for scratches if I fetch my magnifying glass,’ he offered. ‘If you want me to, that is. Or if you want me to go away and not say anything, I can do that too. I don’t want to cause trouble.’

‘The trouble has already been caused, Herr Brauchman,’ Captain Turner said. ‘Please fetch your magnifying glass and see what you can tell us about the lock.’

The old man inclined his head and walked slowly up the stairs.

‘He’s a nice old fellow,’ the commandant said. ‘He plays the violin sometimes, and very well too, and he’s been of great help with information about certain matters.’

‘Why does that Hatterson say Germans are evil?’ Joe asked suddenly. ‘That old man don’t look evil to me. He looks like my granddad’s brother, Uncle Ralph. Got the same kind smile.’

‘Out of the mouths of babes …’ Phoebe said.

Herr Brauchman came stiffly back, with a bundle wrapped in felt. ‘Please excuse me,’ he said to Phoebe, and she stepped back from the door.

He set the felt bundle on a nearby chair and unrolled it, taking out a large magnifying glass and a small one. First he examined the area round the lock, making a little grunting noise as he found something.

‘Please look through this at the scratch, Herr Commandant,’ he said. ‘It is a new one but someone has tried to disguise it.’

Captain Turner took the magnifying glass from him and studied the wood. ‘By Jove, yes.’

When Phoebe looked, she could see the marks quite distinctly, as well as traces of something that had been rubbed into the slight depressions. She passed the glass to Ethel and Joe.

Herr Brauchman took it back and looked inside the hole. ‘For this I need more light.’

‘I have one of the new handheld electric torches.’ Captain Turner hurried to his office at the rear of the hall and came back shortly, waving the metal tube.

He showed Herr Brauchman how to switch it on and off, and the old man shone it into the keyhole. He made more faint sounds of excitement as he examined the interior, then put down the big magnifying glass and used the small one. ‘This is very strong magnifier for small things. Ah! There are several scratches inside, where they forced the lock. Please check them, Herr Commandant, ladies.’

Again, everyone looked in turn into the old lock and it was quite obvious that something had scratched the metal inside it recently because the marks were shiny, as if newly made.

‘This is how they get in,’ Herr Brauchman said. He looked from one to the other. ‘This lock is old and easy to force. You should put in a better one. I cannot do that, but a good locksmith could and without changing its appearance much.’

‘Thank you, Herr Brauchman,’ Phoebe said. ‘But my family has never changed the old lock, not for centuries. I
think I’d prefer to have bolts put on the other side of the door, where there used to be some. I don’t know why they were removed.’

‘Well. Thank you for your help, Herr Brauchman,’ Captain Turner said. ‘Please don’t discuss this with anyone.’

The old man nodded, rolled up his pack of tools and walked away. Everyone else turned back to study the door.

‘Do you still have the old bolts, Mrs Latimer?’ the commandant asked.

‘I think we do. Somewhere in the attic.’

‘If you get them out, I’ll find someone to fit them today. We can’t have people breaking into your part of the house from here. What I want to know is how they got into the new part, and I can think of only one way.’

Silence greeted his words, then Joe blurted out, ‘Someone must have let them in.’

‘Yes. That’s what I’m afraid of, lad. There’s no other explanation. I thought all our people were loyal but there must be one who isn’t. Some people get paranoid where Germans and Austrians are concerned, even those who have lived here so long they’re loyal to Britain.’

He stood for a moment lost in thought, then turned to Phoebe and repeated, ‘So … if you can find the bolts, I’ll see that they’re fixed on to the door before nightfall.’

‘Thank you. I think it’s safe to go home this way now, don’t you?’ She took out the only key, a huge iron piece, and inserted it in the lock.

Joe followed her and Ethel into the old house. ‘I hope you don’t mind me coming through this way, Mrs Latimer, only I get a bit nervous when there’s just me and the commandant.’

‘Any lad your age would. He’s used to ordering people round, isn’t he?’

‘Yes. He’s worse than my dad.’

‘Thank you for keeping an eye on things, Joe.’

‘That’s all right, Mrs Latimer. The major pays me and I like doing it. It’s good practice for when I’m called up.’

‘Don’t be in a hurry to go,’ Ethel said sharply. ‘Your mother will be terrified every day you’re away.’

Phoebe knew the maid was thinking of her own son.

The two women escorted Joe to the back door and he nodded politely to Cook as he went out through the kitchen. Phoebe closed and locked the door immediately after him, then stood staring out of the window, feeling rather numb.

Corin was right. She had to take great care. A fall today could have made her lose the baby.

‘Shall I get your breakfast now, ma’am?’ Cook asked.

‘I don’t feel hungry.’

‘You have to eat for two now.’

‘Do I? Well, a piece of dry toast is all I can face.’

‘With an egg on it?’

She shuddered. ‘No. The mere thought of an egg makes me feel sick. Dry toast, Cook, and only one piece. Is the fire hot enough? If you tell me where the toasting fork is, I’ll toast the bread myself.’

Cook looked as if she would object, then shrugged. ‘Life’s topsy-turvy these days, isn’t it? I never thought I’d eat my meals with the mistress.’

‘If it upsets you, I can go back to eating on my own.’

‘Bless you, no, ma’am. The major wouldn’t want you to be lonely and if you’re with us, we can make sure you’re safe.’

Phoebe found herself nodding off as she slowly forced down the toast, and when Ethel shooed her upstairs for a lie down ‘for the baby’, she went meekly.

She felt warmed by the kindness of her two servants and the people in the village.

She lay down on the bed without undressing and didn’t wake till someone started hammering downstairs.

Ethel opened the kitchen door to a man whose horse and cart were standing in the stable yard.

‘I’ve come to put the bolts back on the old connecting door. Walter sent me a message. He knows I only come out now for jobs I enjoy doing. I mended that old door once, years ago that was, when Agnes Latimer looked after the house. Beautiful wood that door is, even after all this time. Oak.’ He paused, head on one side. ‘Aren’t you going to let me in, girl?’

Ethel laughed. ‘Girl? I’ll have you know I’m fifty.’

‘You seem like a girl to me. I’m past seventy but I can still do a good day’s work, mind.’

She let him in and he nodded to Cook, who clearly knew him.

‘Got any cups of tea handy, missus?’ he asked.

‘You always were a cheeky one, John Mullard,’ she said.

‘And you always make a good cup of tea.’ He turned to Ethel. ‘Where are these bolts?’

‘Oh dear. I don’t know. I’d better go and wake the mistress. She’ll know.’

But when Ethel got to the landing, there was a light glowing at the foot of the attic stairs. She stopped, but didn’t feel afraid. ‘Did you want something?’ she asked the ghost.

The light glowed more brightly for a moment or two then began to move up the stairs.

Ethel hesitated, then decided to follow it. She hoped she was right about what it wanted her to do.

In the attic the light drifted across to one corner and she followed it.

The glow shone on a jumble of pieces of black iron with little holes in them here and there. It took her a moment to realise these were the bolts and fittings. ‘My goodness! Aren’t they big? I’ll have to fetch Mr Mullard up to check that these are the right ones and help me carry them down.’