“Coming in? Or are you scared?”
“Of course I want to go in.”
“We’ll leave our horses here.”
We dismounted near an old mounting-block and tethered the horses. We pushed open the door and stepped straight into what I presumed was a living-room. It was large with two windows, the panes of which were
cracked. Several floorboards were missing. Threadbare curtains hung at the windows and dusty cobwebs hung from the ceiling.
“They didn’t touch it … after the murder,” said Kate. This is where it was . in this room. It’s haunted, isn’t it? Can you feel it? “
I said: “It’s eerie.”
“Well, that’s because it’s haunted. You’d better keep close to me.”
I smiled. She was eager not to be too far away from me in this place.
I was seeing it all clearly: Simon, tying up his horse at probably the same spot where we had tied ours . unsuspecting . coming in and finding Cosmo lying on the floor, the gun beside him. I saw Simon picking up the gun and just at that moment Tristan bursting in. It was too neat.
“You look funny,” said Kate.
“I was thinking about it.”
She nodded.
“I reckon Simon was waiting for him. And as soon as he came in… bang, bang. It was a good thing Stepper came in, though … and caught him red-handed. He ran away.” She came close to me.
“What do you think Simon is doing now?”
“I wish I knew.”
“Perhaps the ghost is haunting him. Can ghosts travel? I reckon they can go a little way. I wonder where he is. I’d love to know. What’s the matter with you. Cranny?”
“Nothing.”
“Ever since you came in here, you’ve had a funny look in your eyes.”
“Nonsense.”
Then suddenly I thought I heard a movement overhead.
“The fact is you’re scared. Cranny.” She stopped suddenly. Her eyes widened as they turned towards the stairs. She had heard too. She came closer to me and as I gripped her hand, I heard the creak of a floorboard.
Kate was dragging on my arm, but I did not move.
“It’s the ghost,” whispered Kate, and there was real fear in her face.
I said: “I’m going to look.”
She shook her head and drew back in alarm.
For a second or two she stood very still. Then she came to me and I started up the stairs with her following close behind.
We were on a landing. I could hear deep breathing. So could she. She gripped my hand tightly.
There were three doors on the landing and all of them were closed. I stood listening. Then again I heard the sound of breathing. I stood very still, listening. Behind the door nearest to me I knew someone was waiting.
I went to the door and turned the handle. I pushed open the door and stepped into the room.
A man was standing there-unwashed, unkempt, and there was a pile of rags on the floor with a paper bag beside it. I noticed crumbs on the floor and relief swept over me. This man was human anyway. I did not know what I had expected. Perhaps, like Kate, I feared the ghost of Cosmo. And this was just an old tramp.
“I be doing no ‘arm,” he said.
Kate was beside me.
“It’s Harry Tench,” she said.
Harry Tench. The name was familiar. I had heard it mentioned in connection with the murder.
“Who be you?” he demanded.
“I know who that one be.” He pointed at Kate.
“And what do ‘ee want ‘ere? I bain’t doing no ‘arm.”
“No,” I said.
“No. We just came to look at the farmhouse. We heard a noise and came up.”
“Nobody comes prying round ‘ere. What ‘arm be I doing?”
“None, none. I’m sorry we disturbed you.”
“It was just a place to sleep. Drove out, I was. There’s no ‘arm done.
Don’tee get no ideas about having me put out. “
“We haven’t any ideas about doing that,” said Kate, who
was fast recovering from her fright and was almost herself.
“We thought you were a ghost.”
His lips were drawn back in a grin showing yellow teeth.
“Don’t worry,” I said.
“Come on, Kate.”
I took her hand and we went out of the room. I shut the door on Harry Tench and we went downstairs.
“Come on,” I said.
“Let’s get out of here.”
As we rode away, Kate said: “You were really scared, Cranny.”
“Not half as much as you were. You were going to run, remember.”
She was silent for a while and then went on: “He’s rather brave … sleeping there, in a place where a murder happened. You wouldn’t want to, would you, Cranny?”
“I would like to be more comfortable than that poor man obviously was.”
We rode on and after a few moments she said: “Look, there’s Seashell Cottage. That’s where we all used to live.”
It was a neat little place with a well-kept garden and clean lace curtains at the windows. We rode close enough for me to see that the Seas had been replaced in the shells so that it was now respectable Seashell Cottage. It was difficult to imagine Lady Perrivale living in such a place; and her daughter and father had been with her too.
I wondered about Kate’s father. Could I ask her? Perhaps at the appropriate moment I could put a few carefully chosen questions. I must remember how shrewd Kate was and be very careful.
“Come on,” she said.
“Let’s go and see if Gramps is at home.”
The Dower House was very different from Seashell Cottage I had seen it in the distance, for it was not very far from Perrivale Court.
There was a copse between the two and we rode through this.
It was a charming residence. I imagined it had been built during
Elizabeth’s reign, for it was definitely of Tudor architecture red brick with latticed windows. Virginia creeper grew on some of the walls and there was a neat lawn before it bordered by flowerbeds.
We slipped off our horses, tethered them and walked through the gate.
The house seemed quiet.
“I bet you he’s in the garden,” said Kate.
She led the way round the side of the house, past a small orchard, to a walled garden reminiscent of the period, with plants climbing over the red brick wall and beds of what I guessed to be aromatic herbs surrounding a pond, in the centre of which was a small fountain. What struck me most was the aura of absolute peace. A man was sitting on a carved wooden seat close to the pond.
“Gramps,” cried Kate.
I was amazed that he looked so young. I realized later that he must have been in his mid-fifties, but he looked ten years younger than that. He was straight-backed, very upright and undoubtedly handsome. I noticed the resemblance to Lady Perrivale and Kate. His hair was similar in colour to theirs but had a little white at the temples and there was a hint of green in his eyes. But, like Kate, he lacked those dark brows and lashes which made Lady Perrivale such a startling beauty. His brows were so light as to be almost invisible, which gave him a look of
