When Princess was dragged into Pendrift harbor, people began to gather on the quay, drawn by curiosity and the smell of tragedy that blew in off the sea. Merlin tied her to a bollard while Trevor clutched the gold watch. “What’s happened to Mr. Montague, Skipper?” a man shouted. “That’s his boat, if I’m not mistaken.” Merlin did not know how to reply. Instinctively, he knew the family should be the first to know.
“Nothin’,” he replied cagily. “Broke down, that’s all.”
The crowd began to mumble among themselves, and Merlin knew they didn’t believe him. He hurried up the road towards the Snout & Hound. White with black beams and small dark windows laced with flowers, the Snout & Hound had welcomed weary fishermen and smugglers for well over three hundred years.
“I need to use the telephone,” said Merlin as he entered. The room fell silent, and, through the smoky air, they could see his anxious face and read in it that something terrible had happened. As much as he would have liked to have spoken to Mrs. Julia in private, the telephone was at the bar, where a few of the locals were enjoying an early lunch. No one bothered to look like they weren’t listening, and Merlin didn’t have the will to tell them to mind their own business; they’d all know soon enough.
“I’d like to speak to the lady of the house,” said Merlin when Soames’s condescending voice came on the line.
“I’m afraid Mrs. Julia is indisposed,” he replied.
“Mr. Archie?”
“As well.”
“It’s urgent. It’s about Mr. Monty. It’s Merlin here.”
Soames had recognized Merlin’s rusty voice the moment he had heard it, but he didn’t like to indulge in small talk with the locals. He wasn’t about to bother Mr. Archie, who was in the study with the door closed, and Mrs. Julia was supervising the tidying-up operation in the tent, running about like Purdy in chase of pheasants. However, Merlin sounded very distressed, and Soames was aware that Mr. Monty hadn’t attended breakfast.
“Wait a moment, I’ll go and find Mrs. Julia,” he said, placing the receiver on the sideboard.
Merlin waited a good five minutes. He could hear Cook’s doughy voice complaining about the amount of food left over from the party. “It’s indecent,” she was saying. “This would feed an army. It wasn’t so long ago that we were still being rationed.” Finally, Soames’s voice came back on the line.
“She’s taking your call in the sitting room,” he said. There was a click, then Julia’s voice came on the line. Soames put down the receiver with some reluctance.
“Hello, Merlin?” She sounded anxious.
“Good morning, Mrs. Julia.”
“What’s happened?”
“It’s Mr. Monty’s boat. We found it out at sea this morning.”
“Wasn’t Mr. Monty in it?”
“Only his pocket watch, Mrs. Julia. Trevor’s keeping it for you.”
“Good God!” she exclaimed. “I’ll send Archie down right away.” She hesitated a moment. Merlin saw that every eye in the pub was upon him. Mouths agape, eyes bulging with interest. Her voice was soft, as if she was afraid of her own words. “You don’t think he went overboard, do you?”
“There’s a bottle of champagne rattling around in the belly of the boat, Mrs. Julia. I think you should alert the coast guard.”
“Thank you, Merlin.”
Julia put down the receiver, barely daring to breathe. She moved across the room in a trance. Her legs felt as heavy as they did in nightmares when she tried to run from a nameless peril. She found Archie in his office. “Something terrible has happened.” She stood in the doorway, as white as a ghost. “Merlin found Monty’s boat out at sea. Monty’s nowhere to be seen, but his pocket watch was on board and a bottle of champagne.”
Archie jumped to his feet. “Bloody hell! I’ll call the coast guard immediately. You don’t think…” His voice trailed off. The look in Julia’s eyes was as good as a reply. He swiveled around and picked up the telephone. “Go and tell Milton to meet me in the car,” he added, his voice urgent. “We’ll drive down to the harbor at once.” Julia did as she was told. All she could think about was those poor children. If something had happened to Monty…
Celestria wandered back up the snake path to the house, followed by the boys and Purdy. Harry didn’t understand her anxiety. At twelve, he couldn’t imagine anything rocking his secure little world. He chatted to his cousins as if nothing was amiss. Celestria felt nauseous. From the moment she had woken, the world had changed, as if it had shifted on its axis in the night, leaving everything looking the same but being totally different.
When she reached the house, there was pandemonium. Amid the chaos of the clearing-up operation, Julia was sitting on the terrace with Penelope, David, Melissa, and Lotty. She was smoking madly, her face pinched and gray. Celestria’s heart stalled. She could guess what they were discussing because they spoke in hushed voices and stopped suddenly when they saw her. Pamela was nowhere to be seen. Neither were her uncles. When she reached the group, they said nothing, just looked from one to the other shiftily, their expressions as solemn as graves.
“Celestria,” said Julia finally, getting up slowly. There was no easy way to tell a child that her father was missing at sea, presumed dead. “Your father’s boat has been found.”
“And Papa?” the young woman asked, aware that her voice was little more than a squeak. Julia shook her head, then looked past Celestria to Harry.
“What’s up?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“It’s Papa. I told you!” Celestria wailed. Julia rushed over to embrace them.
“They’ve found his boat, Harry. He wasn’t in it, but his pocket watch was, which leads us to believe he was in it at some stage last night. He always wears it with white tie. Unless,” she added hopefully, “he dropped it without noticing when he disembarked, before someone else stole the boat. That’s a possibility, isn’t it?”
Lotty put an arm around Celestria. “The coast guard are out looking for him,” she said. “I’m sure he’s safe. We’re all worrying for nothing.”
“There’s probably a very simple explanation,” Julia agreed.
“Knowing my brother as I do, I would agree with Julia,” said Penelope. “Monty’s not the type to throw himself overboard. Life’s much too good!”
“What was he doing out there in the first place? So early in the morning?” Celestria was baffled. “Where’s Mama?” No one spoke up. “She doesn’t know?” Celestria was shocked, though not surprised. They were all much too scared of her mother’s reaction to be the one to break the bad news. “Well, I’m going to find her,” she said, and stalked out.
Upstairs, Celestria found her mother in her bedroom, standing at the windowsill in her dressing gown, with Poochi in her arms. She was looking out over the sea as if she already knew it had swallowed her husband. “Mama,” Celestria said. “Papa’s lost at sea. They’ve found his boat and his pocket watch.”
Pamela turned to face her daughter. “What are you talking about?”
“Papa’s missing. They’ve found his boat, but he wasn’t in it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Certain. Uncle Archie and Uncle Milton have gone down to the harbor. The coast guard are already looking for him.”
Pamela dissolved into tears. “They think he’s dead?” She sank onto the window seat. “I just don’t believe it. Why would he take that darn boat out at such a god-awful hour of the morning?”
“Did you fight last night?”
Pamela was affronted. “Of course not!”
“Were you drunk?”
“Not particularly.”
“Are you sure?” She recalled her mother’s shaking hands and unsteady walk.
“Of course I’m sure. Okay, he might have been a little tipsy, but not enough to do something stupid. Monty isn’t like that, as you know. Besides, he would have left a note.”
At that moment the doorknob rattled. Both women turned their eyes to the door in the hope that Monty might walk through it, but instead Harry’s worried face peered around it. “Is it true?” he asked in a small voice.
“Don’t you worry, Harry, darling,” exclaimed his mother, floating over to embrace him in tuberose and pink silk. “Your father’s going to be fine. He’s probably having a cup of coffee in town, reading the papers. You know what he’s like. We must all stop worrying. What will he think when he finds us in such a state?” She gathered him into her arms, pressing her powdered cheek against his.
Down at the harbor Merlin was waiting for Mr. Archie. A large crowd had gathered on the quay, mumbling among themselves, imagining all sorts of implausible reasons for Mr. Monty’s disappearance. The most likely, they all agreed, was that he had been kidnapped, possibly by pirates.
They fell silent when Archie drove up in his Rover, parking it in front of the Snout & Hound. The pub had now completely emptied of customers, barmaids, and the publican himself, who had joined the throng outside in the hope of seeing a body at the very least.
“Good God,” said Archie to his brother-in-law. “What’s going on here?”
They climbed out of the car and walked over. The crowd parted to let them through, the men taking off their hats to show their respect. Archie recognized most of the faces but didn’t know them as well as his brother did. In spite of his class, Monty had enjoyed many a beer and a game of darts at the Snout & Hound and shared a great deal of laughter in his typically uninhibited way.
Merlin tipped his hat. “Here she is, Mr. Archie,” he said gravely, pointing to the boat. Trevor emerged from behind his friend and opened his hand to reveal the pocket watch. Archie took it.
“Well, this is certainly his watch,” he said softly, his eyes tracing the initials that their father had had engraved to mark Monty’s twenty-first birthday. That now seemed like another life. He dropped it in his pocket.
“How did you find it, Merlin?”
Merlin scratched his beard. “We were fishing. ’Bout nine o’clock this morning. It was misty out here, which makes me think that if Mr. Monty had been out early, he might have got lost.” Archie nodded thoughtfully. Merlin continued. “Trevor saw it first. It was far out. Must ’ave drifted. When we got to it, Princess was empty but for the watch and the bottle.”
Archie raised his eyebrows. “Bottle?” he repeated. He narrowed his eyes and glanced at Milton. Milton shrugged. Monty wasn’t a boozer. Merlin nodded at Trevor, who climbed into the boat and dropped onto his knees to reach the champagne bottle that was hidden at the back, under the seat. He handed it to Merlin.
“Well, look at that!” he exclaimed, holding the bottle up for everyone to see. “There’s a note inside.”
“A letter in a bottle?” said Milton incredulously. “It must be a joke.”
“If it’s a joke, it’s in poor taste,” Archie added, his eyes sliding over the curious throng. He took the bottle from Milton and tried to shake out the piece of paper, but the note remained firmly inside the bottle.
“You’re going to have to break it, Mr. Archie,” said Merlin. The crowd began to get impatient. The mumbling grew louder. Perhaps it was a note from the kidnapper. Or a prank of his own. They all knew Monty could be a bit of a prankster.
Suddenly the crowd was forced to part as a police officer fought his way through.
“Ah, Inspector Trevelyan,” said Archie, shaking the man’s hand.
Inspector Trevelyan was unmistakable, with a white foamy mustache and wild gray eyebrows, a distended bottom lip that never smiled, and a shiny nose that looked like a lump of melted wax. In his tweed cap and beige raincoat he was as much of a landmark as the Snout & Hound, having been a part of Pendrift for longer than anyone could remember.
“No sign of him, I’m afraid,” he informed Archie grimly. “We’ve got a team scouring the cliffs, and the coast guard are out at sea. So far, nothing.” Inspector Trevelyan turned his attention to the bottle. “What’s that in there?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Archie replied. “The damn thing won’t budge.”
“You’ll have to break it, sir,” said Inspector Trevelyan.
Archie wasn’t certain he wanted the entire town to witness what was in the note. If it was indeed a prank, he’d look very stupid. If it was worse, they had no business knowing. He waded through them like he often waded through his herd of cows, pushing them apart with his hands. Then he bent on one knee and knocked the thin end of the bottle against the rocks beneath the quay. The top came off in one piece and dropped into the sea with a plop. Careful not to cut himself on the broken glass, he withdrew the note.
It was a single piece of paper taken from the house. From Archie’s study, to be precise. Top left-hand drawer, where he kept his writing paper and cards. On it were written two words. Two words that made no sense at all, but in Monty’s handwriting.
Forgive me
Milton looked over his shoulder. “What on earth does that mean?” he said, baffled.
“God only knows!”
“Surely not suicide? Of all the people least likely to take their own life it was Monty. Why on earth would he do such a thing?”
Archie didn’t feel anything at all except confusion. He would have felt sad had he been convinced his brother had committed such an act. But he wasn’t. First, Monty was the happiest man he knew. Second, he was a devout Catholic. Third, he loved his wife and children. Three very good reasons not to end it all. “This is madness!” he exclaimed in fury. “When he bloody well turns up, I’m going to kill him myself!”
He showed Inspector Trevelyan the note. “That looks like suicide to me,” he said, handing it back.
“It would appear so,” agreed Archie, “had it been written by anyone other than my brother. I simply don’t believe it.”
“We’ll continue the search,” said Inspector Trevelyan. His shoulders hunched, tense with the grim business of his job. “If anything turns up, we’ll come straight to the Hall.”
“Thank you,” said Archie, frowning.
Archie and Milton returned home in bewilderment. Merlin and Trevor sat in the pub, telling the story over and over again, while everyone else gave their opinions on what they believed had really happened. Nothing united the community better than a good mystery.
When the Rover drew up at Pendrift Hall, the rest of the family spilled out onto the gravel, desperate for news. Archie shook his head. “Damn fool!” he spluttered. “Left this silly note in a champagne bottle. Why the devil would he go and do something like that?”
Pamela took the note. “It’s his writing all right,” she said. “You don’t think he’s…He wouldn’t. Not Monty. This is a joke!” It was too late to protect Celestria and Harry. The note was already being passed around and dismissed as preposterous.
“Perhaps what started as a joke, when he was drunk and being silly at the end of the party, finished in disaster,” said Penelope.
“You’re saying he’s dead?” said Pamela angrily.
“I’m saying he might have fallen in and drowned unintentionally.”
“That’s still saying he’s dead. Why doesn’t anyone admit it? My husband and the father of my children is dead!” She put her hand to her forehead and swooned. “Oh Lord. I must go lie down. I feel like I’m about to throw up my heart!”
Julia and Penelope rushed to her aid, taking an arm each and leading her back into the house. Celestria and Harry watched them go. Neither felt the desire to follow. When Pamela took one of her turns, it was better to stay out of the way.
“I need a stiff drink. Soames!” Archie stalked after them. “Soames!” Soames appeared in the hall, his expression impassive, as he hoped not to reveal that he had been listening to the entire conversation through the pantry window. “Get me a whiskey right away. And one for Mr. Milton, too.”
Celestria and Harry, supported by Melissa and Lotty, Wilfrid and Sam, followed David and the two men into Archie’s study. It was a library of bookcases up to the ceiling, with a gaping fireplace surrounded by a burgundy leather club fender and two worn leather sofas. Archie’s reading chair had been molded into the shape of his body, and a hole was wearing through in the seat, revealing its foam insides like the guts of one of the boys’ dead rabbits. The air was musty, as if the window hadn’t been opened in a long time. Celestria recalled, with a stab of pain to her heart, the grim look on her father’s face the night before, when she had watched him unseen from the door.
She flopped onto the sofa next to Harry, who had gone very quiet and pale. She put her arm around him and pulled him close. He was as flat as a deflated balloon, and his eyes shone with fresh tears. Melissa and Lotty squeezed in either side of them.
Celestria looked at Archie. “Mama’s right, isn’t she? Papa’s dead.”
Soames brought the drinks in on a tray. Archie took a swig and gulped it down miserably. It was all very baffling.
“I’m not writing him off until I have a body,” he said, his mustache twitching defiantly. “Or at least some evidence of one.”
“What about murder?” David suggested, sinking into his uncle’s armchair. Archie was too agitated to sit down. Milton walked over to the window, his hands in his pockets, and stared out as if expecting Monty to wander across the lawn.
“What motive?” said Archie.
“Money,” David replied with a shrug.
Archie dismissed it with a firm shake of his head. “Absolutely not. He might be rich, but he’s not Croesus.”
“Maybe Penelope’s right,” Milton conceded. “What started as a prank ended in disaster.”
Celestria looked over at Wilfrid and Sam, who sat on the sofa opposite, in shocked silence. “What did you all do when you went out in his boat?”
“We played pirates,” replied Sam.
“Did you ever put notes in bottles?” Wilfrid and Sam looked at each other pensively. She turned to her brother. “Did Papa ever play silly pranks, like pretending to fall overboard?”
“We pretended to shoot at Spanish merchant vessels,” said Harry.
“We never put messages in bottles, but we did talk about it,” said Sam. “Uncle Monty told us that if we were lost at sea it was the best way to get a message home. The tide would take it to the beach.”
“Charming,” said Archie sarcastically. “I doubt that note was written in the boat. The paper was out of my desk, for a start. I think he wrote it here, found an empty bottle, and set off with the intention of doing something silly.”
“You know he liked to play treasure hunts on the sand. What if the note in the bottle was part of a game he was planning?” said David.
“Then why write ‘Forgive me’?” Archie drained his glass. “That’s a suicide note if ever I saw one.”
“If Papa was going to kill himself, which I very much doubt,” said Celestria impatiently, “he would have written a longer note. Have you ever known him to say a few words when a dozen would do? He wouldn’t have left us in doubt. He would have said, ‘I’m unhappy, this is the only way out.’ Or something along those lines. He wouldn’t have been so cryptic. Papa has never been cryptic.”
They were all silent for a moment. Everything pointed to suicide, but none of them believed it possible. Then a small voice piped up.
“Papa wouldn’t want to make us sad. He loves us.” Harry’s pitiful face remained immobile, but for a single tear that trickled down it, leaving a thin, shiny trail.
They were jolted from their thoughts by the urgent ringing of the doorbell. No one moved. The room seemed to hold its breath as Soames’s footsteps were heard tapping across the stone floor as he made his way to the front door, followed by the murmur of low voices as he exchanged a few words with the caller. A cold wind swept in and slid across the floor and into the study where the small party waited anxiously for news. Celestria shivered and folded her arms. She felt a gradual tightening around her throat and the shameful inability to cry. It was as if her anguish had blocked her power to express emotion. The draft was damp and smelled of the sea. Had it finally given up her father’s body?
At last Soames knocked on the study door. “What is it?” Archie asked, his voice tense.
“It’s Inspector Trevelyan,” Soames replied. Archie’s eyes fell a moment onto the younger children. He wondered where Nanny was and why Julia hadn’t sent them all off somewhere out of the way so they wouldn’t have to endure the agony of waiting.
“Show him into the drawing room,” he said. Celestria rose in protest. “I’ll see him on my own,” he replied, his tone resolute. They all watched him leave the room and close the door behind him.
“They’ve found the body,” said Celestria resignedly, rubbing her throat. “I know they have.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Milton suggested, unconvincingly.
“Quite,” agreed David.
“Don’t be silly, Celestria,” said Lotty. “I don’t believe he’s dead. It’s all a terrible misunderstanding. Daddy’s right, we’re leaping to conclusions when we know nothing.”
“We have a note,” Celestria snapped. “There is no alternative conclusion to leap to.”
It seemed a very long time before Archie returned to the study. His face was gray. “They’ve found his shoes,” he said. “Washed up on rocks.”
Celestria gasped.
Harry sobbed. “Does that mean Papa is dead?” he asked. Celestria exchanged looks with her uncle. He shook his head sadly.
“I’m afraid it’s almost certain,” he replied.
“But wouldn’t one take off one’s shoes to swim?” said Melissa.
“He wasn’t planning on taking a swim, silly!” Celestria retorted.
Archie shook his head. “I’m afraid that the note in the bottle, his pocket watch, and the shoes, all indicate that he took his own life. As incredible as it seems, Monty has committed suicide.”