I suspected the blokes who drove the unmarked van that took away Sir Simon’s body must have been placing bets on when they’d be back at Beulah House to pick up their next “passenger”. However, once they’d left, the house seemed to settle into the evening almost as though nothing had happened. Maybe, given its age, the loss of life it had witnessed was just a blip in its history, that might end up being referred to only briefly in any future account of its existence.
The humans rattling around inside Beulah House were another matter; there’s no way people can experience as many losses as we all had and not be impacted by it. The person most directly affected was, of course, Bella, though she was the one who seemed to be coping best. She was calm, almost regal, with John her doting servant, whereas Felicity was more than a little eager to be allowed to leave, and Renata kept pointing out that Tavistock and Tavistock needed to put out a news release that dealt with the sudden absence of its two managing partners. Vinnie was pacing in the kitchen – having run out of things to cook, or clear away.
I spotted Worthington sending Enderby scurrying out to the meeting room, and decided to take my chance.
Sidling up to him in the entry way I said quietly, “I’d like to have a word, in private, please.”
I was dismissed with a sharp, “Not now. Calls to make,” and he followed Enderby.
“Anybody fancy a cuppa?” Vinnie sounded more cheerful than I could have imagined possible.
“You’re kidding. Nothing passes my lips until I’m out of this place,” replied Felicity, “even if that means I starve to death.” She looked horrified when she realized what she’d said.
“It’s perfectly safe here,” retorted Bella, more sharply than I’d expected.
“Of course it is,” added Renata.
“How about when this is all over, we three girls meet up again and have a giggle about it all over a cocktail, somewhere – eh? Not likely.” Felicity folded her arms and stared into the dying fire.
“I’d like a cuppa, please, Vinnie,” replied Bella. “And I’m sure John would, too.”
“Absolutely,” replied John, who was actually sitting at her feet. “Want a hand?”
“I think I can manage, thanks,” replied Vinnie, who already had the kettle under the tap.
Felicity left her seat and wandered aimlessly, ending up at the French doors. She flicked a switch, and lights illuminated part of the garden. “Everything’s frozen out there tonight – look, even the rill has backed up.”
John said, “The rill’s been frozen since Tuesday morning. The temperature must have dropped overnight on Monday. It’s been solid ever since. But that must have happened before – the rill won’t be damaged forever, will it, Bella?”
Bella seemed to be a million miles away, then stiffened. “The rill? What about the rill?”
“It’s frozen solid. Is the pump underground?” John peered at Bella, concern creasing his brow…more due to her seeming lack of focus than any real concern for an electrical pump, I judged.
“I have no idea about pumps,” she replied. “The rill hardly ever freezes, as I recall. It’s so bitterly cold this year. But please, Felicity, don’t fuss over things that are none of your business.” Bella’s voice was brittle.
“I wasn’t making a fuss. I just noticed it and mentioned it.” Felicity pouted. “Seems I can’t say anything without getting my head bitten off. Typical.” She turned off the outside lights, and flounced toward the kitchen, where she opened the fridge door and peered inside. “Did Simon eat nothing at all today?”
Vinnie replied, “Not a sausage. Nor anything else, neither.” He mugged a grin, but Felicity just shut the fridge door and walked toward the bow window in the dining room.
“I shall miss Charles and Simon terribly,” she said. It was the first time I’d heard an expression of grief or loss pass her lips.
“Sasha and Piers too,” said Renata.
“And Julie,” added Vinnie.
Felicity stared daggers at him.
“Professor Morgan, if you please.” Enderby had summoned me.
Felicity stamped her foot. “I’m never leaving this damned place, am I?” She spun to glare out of the dining-room window into the blackness of the invisible garden beyond.
Bud called, “Good luck,” as I marched toward the meeting room; I was determined to make this chance count, to make Worthington take me seriously.
At least he didn’t ignore me when I entered the meeting room. He stood, in a gentlemanly manner, until I took a seat, then retook his. “Thank you for coming,” he said.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re joking, right? First of all, what choice do I have? Secondly, I want to help as much as I can. And, thirdly – you know very well I have questions to which I’m sure you have the answers, and I truly believe I could help you even more than you might imagine, if only you would choose to be open with me.”
Worthington said nothing.
Neither did I.
“Same terms as before?” His voice was low.
“Bud and I are as one,” I replied. “I’m happy to take things forward without him being present, but I reserve the right to tell my husband anything you tell me. But only him. I agree to that.”
Worthington stood and began to pace along his side of the table. “To start with, I shall be open and honest about this. I have read your files. I understand the work you’ve done in Canada for the police service there. I have been told by those who should know that you are a valuable asset. But I just don’t know if it’s best for me to involve you in this.”
“What do you mean? I’m already involved.”
Worthington threw the glance I now recognized as characteristic of the man – direct, and challenging. “It’s understandable you’d think that, but there’s a great deal you don’t know. If I allow you insights into my investigations – well, that’s where we’re on tricky ground. Politically speaking.”
“Was Sir Simon the one who went over your head to shut down your investigation into Sasha’s death?”
“If I answer that question, with anything but this response, I would already have made the decision to give you information you currently don’t possess.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I replied.
Worthington’s eyes flashed. “No, you may not take that as a ‘yes’, Professor Morgan. Nor may you take it as a ‘no’. It was a very specific non-answer to your question.”
I sat back in my chair and waited.
He continued to pace. His micro-expressions told me he was having a heated internal debate. He stopped pacing when he pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a call. He nodded toward me, then stepped out into the hallway.
I sat there, counting my fingers, annoyed that he wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to know. I was discovering how dreadfully frustrating it feels to be shut out of an investigation.
Returning to the meeting room, Worthington looked even more grim than when he’d left, if that were possible.
“Change of plans,” he said. “Enderby and I must leave. Immediately. We’ll return in the morning. Please join me as I inform the rest of the…party.”
I couldn’t resist saying, “Sure we’ll all be safe in our beds?”
Worthington turned and replied, “Sadly, no, I’m not. But it’s a risk I must take. I have people to brief. In person, apparently.” He strode into the salon, and called for everyone’s attention. “Enderby and I are leaving. Now. We’ll return here at eight, sharp, in the morning. You may all spend the night wherever you choose – but I insist you all present yourselves here at that hour, when I shall be able to proceed with my questioning. Thank you, and goodnight.”
Felicity stood as he turned. “Could you please drive me to a hotel?”
Worthington responded, “We aren’t providing a taxi service, Miss Sampson. Goodnight.”
Felicity whined, “I need to get as far away from here as possible.” Her eyes were wild.
Renata stood and pulled out her phone. “I can organize that, Miss Sampson,” she said. “Leave it with me. I’ll call for a car, and book a room for you. Any particular hotel?”
“I trust you,” replied Felicity. “Somewhere nice, of course. Do you think Tavistock and Tavistock might be able to get me a suite? I don’t usually pay, of course, because I post photos online, and always talk to a couple of journo friends of mine to tell them how wonderful the place is, and how super the staff have been. Is that something you could manage to arrange, do you think?”
“I believe it’s within my realm of capabilities,” replied Renata coolly. “Would you also want me to arrange for a personal shopper to sort out some fresh clothes, etcetera, for you?”
Felicity glowed. “Would you? Yes, please. Harvey Nicks. They’ve got all my info there. Usually do an excellent job – they know what works for my body type, and personality.” She looked at her watch. “You’ll just catch them.”
“I have the number,” replied Renata, and she moved to the far side of the dining room to make the calls.
“You’ll be glad to have me out of your hair,” said Felicity to Bella with surprising tenderness.
“Thanks,” was Bella’s terse reply.
“Vinnie can get you two back to my place,” said John. “I’ll stay. Of course.” He smiled at his fiancée, who smiled back.
“It’ll be just us two here, tonight,” he whispered. “You alright with that, darling?”
“Perfectly,” replied Bella, and her expression told me she wasn’t lying.