After breakfast I decided to pay my long overdue visit to Charlie. Eve and I stood by the foot of the staircase discussing the matter. ‘If you’re going to talk to Charlie then I’m going back into the library to continue looking for that book.’
I looked at the twins. ‘Would one of you volunteer to help Eve while I go talk to your brother? Then when I’ve finished I’ll join you in the library.’
They looked at one another and I wondered if I’d provoked a mild disagreement. After a second’s hesitation, Sammy said, ‘I’ll go help in the library because I know what to do and where I got to the other day.’
Becky duly escorted me upstairs and I looked in on Charlie. Becky stationed herself outside Charlie’s door and I sat down beside the youngster. ‘How’s it going?’ I began.
‘To be honest, Adam, I’m bored rigid,’ Charlie told me.
‘Is the leg still painful?’
‘It’s not so bad most of the time. Last night I must have tried to move or something and it gave me hell. From four o’clock this morning I’ve been playing on that thing.’ Charlie indicated the Atari VCS his parents had bought him for Christmas. ‘Do you know how maddening it can be?’
‘No, I must confess I don’t,’ I replied. ‘Cryptic crosswords are bad enough for me.’
‘Anyway, how are you, Gran says you’ve been very poorly?’
‘I’m a lot better now,’ I reassured him. ‘Mainly thanks to your aunt. I had very bad concussion. Keeping finding bodies didn’t help.’
‘Yes I know. Poor old Rathbone. The girls came up yesterday and told me all about it. Gory was it; like Beaumont?’
I nodded. ‘Very similar, I’m afraid.’
‘How awful. I mean I know he was a sour-faced old p … person,’ I grinned as Charlie deftly changed the word. ‘But I wouldn’t have wished that on him.’ Charlie thought for a moment then added, ‘On anyone for that matter.’
‘I suppose I ought to ask your mum or dad this question but tell me what Rathbone was like?’
Charlie may have been only twelve years old, but I had an idea he was shrewd in a way neither Tony nor Harriet were. He understood people better that either of his parents; he seemed to have an instinct for the way their minds worked.
‘Rathbone wasn’t the nicest person I know,’ he told me. ‘I realize you’re not supposed to speak badly about dead people but he was mean and dishonest and nosy. He was always lurking around trying to find out things that were no business of his.’
‘Big things or little things?’ I asked.
‘It didn’t matter to Rathbone. He didn’t gossip to the others but he wanted to know everything that was going on, whether it was to do with the house or not.’
‘Right,’ I said, ‘enough about Rathbone. I’ve got a question for you about what happened at the clifftop. I came to ask you the other day, but you were too busy watching rugby on TV and besides which I felt rotten.’
‘I know, I heard about it. Ma told me they found you unconscious in your room. She said they were very worried about you, her and Auntie Evie,’ – he gave me a sly sideways glance – ‘particularly Evie, or so Ma says. I think she reckons Evie has a bit of a thing for you; is that right?’
‘If she has,’ I told him, ‘she hides it very well. She was concerned for me; that’s all.’
‘Of course she was,’ he said cheerfully, ‘we all were. Ma, Pa, everyone. It was only Evie who spent all that time in your room though; night after night; refusing help from anyone who volunteered.’
‘She’s just very kind-hearted and caring, and has a soft and gentle nature,’ I said airily.
Charlie stared at me. ‘We are talking about the same person, aren’t we? The last two words I’d use to describe Auntie Evie are soft and gentle. Don’t get me wrong, I love my auntie to bits; but soft and gentle – come off it, Adam.’
‘Well that’s how she was to me, Charlie. Probably because I was so ill and she felt sorry for me.’
Charlie shrugged. ‘Anyway, what was it you wanted to ask about my fall?’
I was relieved to get off the topic of Eve. Like I said, Charlie could see through people. I just hoped he hadn’t seen through me. ‘OK, when we were on that ledge you told me you were pushed. I believed you then, and after I fell when I saw the rope had been cut through, I knew you were telling the truth. I’m trying to get to the bottom of who tried to kill us both, so I want to know everything you can remember; even if it doesn’t seem important.’
‘OK, but it isn’t much I’m afraid.’
‘Try your best. Let’s start with who was near you before you went bird-watching.’
‘Everyone, I think.’ He pondered for a moment. ‘Becky had just set off down on one of the toboggans and Sean Drake, my cousin, was pulling the other one back up the hill after his run. Apart from that they were all close by. Close enough to do what you’re thinking about anyway.’
‘OK, so we’re making progress. We can discount Sean as a killer and we know Becky’s not a homicidal maniac.’
‘She’s a maniac alright,’ Charlie agreed cheerfully. ‘Both my sisters are, but homicidal; definitely not. Besides which, they love me.’
I was sidetracked momentarily. ‘Charlie,’ I asked him, ‘do you know if they think alike; share each other’s feelings and so on? I know they’re not identical in looks but I’ve heard some twins have this power to sense if the other one is in pain; or upset.’
‘Yes, they do,’ he said instantly. ‘It’s quite uncanny sometimes. I tried it out once or twice. I sent Sammy out into the garden on an errand. I told her I wanted her to pick some yellow roses for Mum. Then I asked Becky what Sammy was doing. Becky thought for a moment then said, “She’s picking flowers”. No more specific than that but it made me feel spooky.’
‘That’s interesting; but she could have seen her through the window.’
‘True, but the other time was two years ago. Sammy was off school with a cold. She was recuperating at the time and was downstairs in the sitting room. It was the second day of their school term and my school hadn’t gone back. Ma and I were sitting with Sammy and she suddenly started to cry. Out of the blue; with no reason. Ma asked her what was wrong. Sammy said her arm was hurting really badly. She hadn’t done anything to make it hurt; she was just sitting there reading. Half an hour later one of the teachers rang to say Becky had fallen playing tennis and injured her arm. They’d taken her to hospital for an X-ray. It turned out the arm was broken. The accident happened more or less at the exact time Sammy started to complain of the pain.’
‘Now that really is spooky,’ I agreed. ‘But leaving that for a moment, we accept your sisters aren’t trying to bump us off.’ I saw Charlie’s grin at the ridiculous idea. ‘And you say you can’t think of anyone in particular who might have pushed you. Let me ask you another question. When we were on the ledge you told me that all you felt was someone’s hands on your back pushing you over the edge; is that right?’
‘Yes, I didn’t even get chance to look round it was so sudden. One second I was watching the peregrine falcon; the next I was looking at the quarry floor rushing towards me. Then I landed on the ledge.’
‘Right, you didn’t see anyone but you felt them. Felt their hands on your back; whereabouts?’
‘Whereabouts on my back do you mean?’
‘Yes. Was it on your shoulders, in the middle of your back or roundabout your waist? Can you remember that?’
He thought for a long moment and by his expression I knew he was reliving that dreadful moment. ‘Around about my waist or just above,’ he said at last. ‘Certainly not on my shoulders or the top bit of my back.’
‘OK, that’s good. Now think about those hands and try to feel them on your back again. Were they small hands or big ones? Were they more like a man’s or a woman’s? It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember but it might be a little tiny clue.’
I had to wait a long, long time before Charlie replied. ‘I can’t be sure, but I think they were smallish rather than big.’
‘OK, well done, that’s all for now on the subject of your fall, anyway. I wanted to ask you one or two other things about the people who are staying here. Now this is just between you and me. I promise it won’t go any further.’
Charlie grinned. ‘You want to know the gossip and scandal don’t you?’
‘Is there any to tell?’
‘Not much,’ he said, his voice almost disappointed. ‘There’s the old stuff about you and Ma, of course.’
I looked at him in amazement. ‘Who on earth told you that?’
Charlie laughed. ‘Ma did. When she was telling us about who was coming for Christmas. We wanted to know who you were and why you’d been invited. She told us you had been a famous TV reporter and that you were coming to find out about the curse. Naturally, we wanted to know how she knew a famous personality,’ – his smile was a mocking one – ‘even if we’d never heard of you. That was when she told us you and she had lived together when you were both at university. Then she told us the other things about you,’ his voice became uncomfortable; hesitant.
‘What other things?’
‘About your wife and how she died. She said you’d given up on your old life after that.’ It was plain Charlie was doing his best to avoid hurting me.
I smiled. ‘Yes, that’s all true, Charlie, but it’s also a long time ago. Everything’s different now.’
For a twelve-year-old, Charlie had a wicked sense of humour. ‘I know,’ he agreed, ‘nowadays you’re more interested in Auntie Evie.’
‘Anyway – forgetting about me; it’s the other guests I want you to tell me about.’ My attempt to change the subject was only partially successful. I reckoned without Charlie’s active and mischievous mind.
‘OK,’ he agreed, ‘let’s start with my Auntie Evie, shall we?’
‘Charlie,’ I asked him, ‘when you were younger did you used to pull the wings off flies?’
He smiled triumphantly. ‘I still do,’ he admitted. ‘Now, about Evie.’
‘No, Charlie,’ I said. ‘Don’t go there. If I want to discover anything about Eve, I’ll find out for myself. Tell me instead about Edgar Beaumont.’
He grimaced. ‘If you really insist, but like I said about Rathbone, you shouldn’t speak badly of people when they’re dead, should you? If that’s the case I can’t tell you anything about Beaumont. I didn’t like him, the twins didn’t like him; Ma and Pa didn’t like him. We had to put up with him when he came here, occasionally. That wasn’t too bad because it was usually just for a day and with a bit of luck the three of us would be at school and we’d miss seeing him altogether. When Ma told us he was coming for the Christmas break we thought she’d gone mad. Then she explained Pa was trying to get rid of him.’
Charlie stopped abruptly as he realized what he’d said. ‘I didn’t mean that like it sounded,’ he explained carefully. ‘What I meant was that Pa was trying to get Beaumont to sell his share in the business.Pa had been partners with Beaumont’s father and they’d got on fine. Then when old man Beaumont died Pa was saddled with Edgar.’
‘I never got chance to get to know him,’ I said, ‘apart from picking him up with Eve from Netherdale station that is. They never spoke to me much; thought I was the chauffeur,’ I explained.
‘I remember,’ Charlie laughed. ‘Aunt Evie was miffed, I can tell you. She’s my godmother you know and she’s always been my favourite. She was sad a lot of the time; sad and angry. Don’t get me wrong, we loved her but she wasn’t the same as she is now. It was like she’d had all the life taken out of her. These last few days, Sammy and Becky tell me she’s like a different person. I noticed it too whenever she comes to visit me, in her spare time that is, when she’s not with you. She sparkles with fun now.’
‘Charlie, we were talking about Beaumont,’ I reminded him.
‘So we were,’ – he grinned – ‘but Eve’s much more interesting, don’t you think?’
‘Charlie,’ I pleaded despairingly.
‘OK, OK,’ he grumbled. ‘But I have to make my own fun stuck up here.’
‘Not at my expense you don’t.’
‘Right, Beaumont then. He’s, well if you want to know he was everything Pa’s not. Pa is not the world’s biggest thinker. He’s honest and kind and everything you want your Pa to be. He’s good at the estates and making money, but that’s it. He loves Ma to death too. He was a bit worried about you coming to stay because of you and Ma, but he likes you. Beaumont wasn’t at all like Pa. He was shifty and underhand, cunning and sly.’
‘You really do study people and work them out, don’t you?’
‘I like to know what makes them tick,’ Charlie agreed.
‘Good. Because if I’m going to stand a chance of working this puzzle out I have to understand them all, and I don’t have time. If it hadn’t been for the days I lost to concussion I might have stood more of a chance. So your reading of the guests here might be very important.’
‘I understand. Who do you want to talk about next?’
‘Let’s make a start with your cousin Russell and his wife.’ In all my years as a reporter I’d have given an arm and a leg for half a dozen witnesses whose perception was as acute as Charlie’s. As a character witness, his reading of people and situations was as good as any I’d come across.
‘Russell’s not my cousin for one thing,’ Charlie pointed out, ‘he’s my father’s second cousin. Russell has always hung around the castle. I can remember him ever since I was little. Not that I know anything wrong about him. He’s not exactly devious, but to be honest, Russell is one person I can’t fathom out. You think you’ve got him tagged then you find out you’re wrong.
‘As for his wife, that’s easy. She’s a snob, through and through. She loves it here and doesn’t she wish she was the lady of the castle. I reckon she wishes we’d all vanish then she could announce herself to all her committees as Lady Rowe. She joins everything that’s going, charities, good works; you name it.’
‘OK, that’s her disposed of. I thought she looked at me as if there was a dead fish under her nose.’
Charlie laughed. ‘You mustn’t take it personally, Adam. She looks at everybody that way.’
‘What about their children?’
Charlie made a grotesque gesture of distaste and did a passable imitation of his father’s cousin, ‘Come along kids, come and play with cousin Charles.’ Charlie switched voices and I knew it was their mother speaking. ‘Yes do play with him, children; remember, he’ll be Sir Charles one day.’
‘OK, Charlie I get the message; you don’t care for them?’
‘Maybe it’s not their fault. You don’t get to choose your parents, do you?’
‘So,’ I asked him. ‘What about Colin Drake and his ugly ducklings?’
Charlie giggled. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘I wondered when we were going to get to the scandal.’
‘What scandal’s that?’
‘It’s about his wife really, although Colin has to share a bit of the blame. The problem is she’s a loony.’
‘Charlie, to most twelve-year-olds all adults are loonies. Can you be more specific?’
‘You have a point,’ he grinned. ‘Well, she has a couple of problems. One’s to do with drink. She’s an alky. She lost her driving licence a couple of years ago. She got smashed then the car got smashed. She was fined a thousand pounds and had her licence taken away.’
‘Oh dear,’ I said. ‘That sounds bad. It’s a hefty fine, is that, even for drink-driving.’
‘I know, but that’s not all she’s been in court for. She’s had a couple of shoplifting convictions as well.’
‘Really?’ I said. ‘She doesn’t look the type. What do your mum and dad say?’
Charlie laughed. ‘When Pa told Ma about the fine for drink-driving Ma said, “She should be able to get the money easily enough”, I thought that was pretty funny for Ma.’
‘Is it a medical condition then?’
‘Which one? The boozing or the nicking things? Both, I reckon. The shrinks are treating her for the theft; that was part of the terms of her conviction. She had to accept that or go inside. We were banned from making convict jokes.’ There was a wistful tone in Charlie’s voice and I could imagine some of the wisecracks. Children can be very cruel.
‘She always swipes something when she’s here. Ma and Pa know about it. When Colin gets home the first thing he does is search her case and handbag. He returns whatever’s been nicked a few days later.’
‘It must be difficult for him having to live with the potential problem all the time.’
‘Yes, but you have to remember it was partly his fault.’
‘You said that earlier; what exactly did you mean?’
‘We all thought Colin was just a bit wet and hopeless, dominated by her until about three years ago. Ma and Pa were in a great flap about something they’d read in the papers. They wouldn’t let any of us see them.’
‘How did you find out?’
Charlie smiled triumphantly. ‘I got a copy of the paper from Frank Marsh, even though he’d been told not to let us have it.’
‘How did you manage that?’
‘I threatened to tell Pa I’d seen Frank watching the girls sunbathing.’
‘You didn’t really, did you? Was it true?’
‘No of course not, I made it up.’
‘Charlie, that’s blackmail; you shouldn’t do that.’
‘I know, I know, Sammy and Becky gave me a real telling-off about it.’
‘What was in the newspaper that was so terrible?’
‘Colin works for a bank and he’d been having an affair with one of the cashiers. In the end she got pregnant and the whole business finished up in the paper.’
‘I can quite see why your parents didn’t want a nine-year-old to read that over breakfast,’ I told him. ‘I can imagine some of the lurid headlines.’
‘Yes, they were quite funny. It was shortly after that when his wife’s problems started to get worse. She never appears to be out of her tree, but she’s never completely sober either. You’ll have noticed she wears a fairly hefty perfume. That’s to disguise the smell of the drink.’
‘What about their children?’
‘I feel sorry for them,’ Charlie said seriously. ‘From what I’ve gathered their mother and father are always rowing. It can’t be much fun for Sean and Andrea.’
‘OK, so that disposes of the family. What about your mum’s friend, Polly?’
Charlie looked at me slyly. ‘What do you want to know about Polly for?’
‘Because I’m trying to get to know more about everyone staying in the castle,’ I told him.
‘Polly likes two things,’ Charlie told me. ‘She likes men and she likes money. She likes them both a lot more if they come together in the same package.’
‘Is that it?’ I asked.
‘Just about. Except that I reckon she’d do just about anything to get her hands on either one.’ I hesitated before asking Charlie my next question, but decided to go ahead. The boy had wisdom and commonsense beyond his years, which was what convinced me. ‘This family curse business and the insanity that everyone seems reluctant to talk about: do you think there’s any truth in it, or is it superstition?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Charlie answered nonchalantly. ‘It’s true all right – in the past, certainly. Do you know about Sir Henry, my great-grandfather, the one whose mother supposedly legged it with her lover?’
‘I’ve read about him in that stuff your mum sent me.’
‘I bet it didn’t mention what happened to his younger brother, Albert?’
‘No,’ I agreed, ‘his name wasn’t mentioned.’
‘I didn’t think it would be. Albert was committed to an asylum when he was thirty years old and remained there for the rest of his life. According to what I heard he was absolutely off his trolley.’
‘Do you know why he was put away?’
‘He walked up to a complete stranger in the centre of York and beat him unconscious. They reckon it took five men to restrain him. When the time came to try him, they found he was completely gaga.’
‘Oh, dear, that’s sad.’
‘Yes, I bet Sir Henry thought so too. He had to support Albert’s wife and children for the rest of their lives. They became like permanent lodgers at the castle.’
‘I suppose that is a bit of evidence, but you could find that in any family if you look hard enough.’
‘Oh, that isn’t the worst. Not by a long way.’ It was clear Charlie was enjoying himself.
‘How do you mean, Charlie?’
‘A couple of generations before, another member of the clan topped himself. His name was Maximillian Rowe.’
‘Do you know why he did that?’
‘It might have had something to do with the fact that he was in prison awaiting trial. The prison warders went into his cell one morning and there he was, swinging in the breeze. He’d hanged himself from the bars with his sheets.’
‘What was he being tried for, do you know that?’
Charlie did, but he was enjoying dragging out the suspense. ‘According to the gossip, he took a fancy to one of the female guests staying in the castle and imprisoned her in his room until he’d had his wicked way with her. I’m not sure whether she enjoyed it or not, but her husband took great exception to what went on.’
‘Charlie, how come you know all these obscure details that nobody else seems aware of?’
‘I’m too young to be allowed to go shooting, but Pa started letting me go beating this season. All the other beaters and the loaders are either estate workers or live around Mulgrave village. They love telling me tales about the family; the more lurid the better. That’s how I know so much about William and Roland, the un-heavenly twins. The guys think those stories are funny – I think they’re great! Luckily, Pa doesn’t know I’ve heard them. He wouldn’t be pleased.’