‘I haven’t seen them,’ said Ian. Libby got up and fetched her laptop.
‘There,’ she said, bringing up the familiar site. ‘It isn’t on their current site, you can only get them by going through this old link.’
Ian felt in his pocket and brought out a pen drive. ‘May I?’ he said holding it up. Libby nodded. They all waited while Ian copied the link and then watched in silence as he read through the details.
‘This is very useful,’ he said as he took out the pen drive and gave the laptop back to Libby. ‘For a start there are actually details of the barn and it mentions the cellar and where the door is, yet we haven’t found it yet.’
‘Which means in the last two or three years it’s been blocked up,’ said Libby.
‘Um – I suppose you wouldn’t like me to have a look, would you?’ asked Ben diffidently.
‘Of course!’ said Ian. ‘Why didn’t I think of that before? You’re an architect.’
‘A retired architect, but yes, I am.’ Ben smiled round at them all. ‘I should quite like to be involved if I’d be any use.’
‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of it, either,’ grumbled Libby. ‘Or why you didn’t mention it earlier.’
‘Well, you had the prof, and it didn’t seem as though I would be much use. And he did say he could put you on to a specialist. But if this is a case of looking for hidden rooms I’d probably be as good a bet as anyone.’
‘It’s got everything, this case, hasn’t it?’ said Guy. ‘Secret rooms, spooky music, disinterred bodies, hidden family history – you name it.’
‘I’d just as soon it didn’t,’ said Ian, ‘but I suppose I ought to thank you two for bringing it to our attention. Although there’s nothing much we can do about the bodies of the TB victims, hopefully we’ll be able to find the modern murderers.’
‘Modern murderers?’ said Libby. ‘Not a serial killer, then?’
‘We think so.’ Ian was cautious.
‘But you’re not going to tell us why,’ said Ben.
‘I can’t really,’ said Ian. ‘I’ve told you more than I should already. As usual.’
‘But you said you wouldn’t know about it without us,’ said Libby.
‘Although it was pure – wrong – guesswork about the barn,’ said Ian.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Libby, and subsided.
‘When could you come and look at the house, Ben?’ asked Ian.
‘When you like. Monday?’
‘Can I come with him?’ asked Libby.
Ian sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’ He looked over at Fran. ‘And you’ll want to come, won’t you?’
Fran grinned at him. ‘If Libby’s going I’m not going to be left out.’
‘And meanwhile,’ said Ian, ‘I promise I’ll see if I can’t find out more about Findon’s death.’
‘And perhaps his life,’ said Fran.
Chapter Twenty-six
IAN WAS AT THE door of White Lodge to meet them on Monday morning. The weather had become summer- like again, and Libby was almost pleased to step inside the cool, dark hall.
‘Shall I leave you to it?’ said Ian. ‘I’ve got to go out and see what’s happening outside anyway. We’re cutting a path through to the barn.’
‘Does Rosie know?’ asked Libby.
‘Of course, we had to ask her permission. There’s actually already a track there, but it’s completely overgrown.’
‘No traces of anyone having used it recently?’
‘We are looking, Libby. We had actually thought of that.’ Ian turned to Ben. ‘OK, then? All the doors are unlocked, and there’ll always be someone in the garden who can fetch me if you need me.’
‘Well,’ said Ben, after Ian had left through the back door. ‘You two had better show me around. Are we likely to hear this music?’
‘Yes, if we go upstairs,’ said Fran, ‘but I thought you wanted to find the cellar?’
‘That’s what I’m here for. Libby, have you got those details?’
Libby had printed the old details from the estate agent’s website and fished them out of her basket. ‘It says door to cellar in hall.’ She looked round. ‘But I can’t see it.’
‘It’s a bit of a rambler, this house,’ said Ben. ‘This probably isn’t the only hall. This part is the later addition, I think. We need the earlier house.’
‘Through there, then,’ said Fran, pointing to the left. ‘That corridor leads to the rooms beyond the piano room.’
‘Oh, yes, the piano room. I’d better have a look at that.’ Ben led the way into the room.
‘It feels friendly, doesn’t it?’ said Libby. ‘It felt spooky upstairs, and in the garden after we’d heard the music, but I don’t think it
‘I agree,’ said Fran. ‘I really like this room. I can just see drifting white curtains at these long windows.’
‘And a big log fire in the winter,’ said Libby going to the Adam-style fireplace. ‘This isn’t original, though, is it? This room’s been upgraded.’
‘It’s a complete mish-mash,’ said Ben, frowning. ‘The Georgian owners obviously gave the interior a complete makeover. And I imagine upstairs there are even more desecrations from when it was turned into a workhouse.’
‘Not too many,’ said Libby. ‘Don’t forget this was the master’s house. The actual workhouse buildings were outside and were demolished.’
‘Except for the barn.’ Fran turned round in a full circle and then stopped. ‘I’ve had an idea.’
‘What?’ said Ben and Libby together.
‘Do you remember when we were at Creekmarsh? We went round the outside to try and find traces of the cellars?’
‘So why aren’t we doing that here?’ Ben patted her on the shoulder. ‘Brilliant, Fran. Might not be quite so easy as this is older and I think there’s more subsidence.’
‘There was subsidence at Creekmarsh,’ said Libby. ‘All we need to find is the top of a lintel, isn’t it? Then work out where it is on the inside.’
‘All? There’s a lot of outside to this place,’ said Ben. ‘Come on.’
It wasn’t easy to get all the way round the outside. The side of the house that led to the wall and the garden gate was part of the newer house and contained nothing suspicious, the garden where the bodies had been exhumed was almost impossible to traverse, but by dint of keeping close to the wall past the piano room windows in single file, they reached the hedge which divided the garden and managed to squeeze through.
‘I’ve never been this side before,’ said Libby.
‘It looks as though this was the formal garden,’ said Fran. ‘Look, there are lupins and delphiniums over there.’
Ben was grubbing around the bottom of the wall. ‘Look,’ he called over his shoulder. Fran and Libby bent down.
‘There,’ he said. ‘I think that’s a lintel.’
It was a bleached beam at a forty-five degree angle, disappearing into the ground. Further along, there was another, which Libby pointed out.
‘Cellars? Or actually the original ground floor of the house?’ she asked. ‘If it’s subsidence, that’s what it could be.’
Ben nodded, fished a tape measure out of his back pocket and started taking measurements. Libby and Fran took turns to hold the end, while he wandered up and down muttering and making notes. Finally he stood back and peered up at the walls.
‘I think I know where it is,’ he said. ‘Now we’ve just got to get inside.’
The started round the other side of the house into more unkempt gardens.
‘Did you notice there was no music in the garden?’ said Libby.
