Bay Tree Cottage Page 22

  ‘Yes, all right.’ Ginger had a sudden thought. ‘Perhaps you should let Emil Kinnaird know what’s going on as well? The more people we have keeping an eye on things, the better, surely? He comes here regularly.’

  ‘Good idea. I’ll contact him. You’re sure you’ll be all right till tonight, Ginger?’

  ‘Of course I will. There will be people delivering stuff all day and I don’t need to go out. Besides, one of the other artists is usually around, and I think even Cutler would come to my aid if he saw someone trying to murder me.’

  Or would he? No, of course he would.

  ‘You can’t be sure who these people delivering goods are.’

  ‘If they come in an unmarked van, I’ll ask for ID.’ She was a bit annoyed at herself for letting what had happened spook her.

  ‘All right. But don’t hesitate to sound the alarm. I’ll make one little modification and reinstate the standard systems before I leave. They won’t know what I’ve done to it and it’ll look as if it’s still disabled.’

  The day was as busy as she’d expected, with people coming and going, delivering various electrical goods and supplies for the café. All were, of course, in vans with signs and names on them.

  Ginger was thrilled at how good the café was looking but worried that she couldn’t keep an eye on everyone who came into the shop for every single minute they were there, because the phone would ring and of course she had her own personal needs. And the storeroom made it difficult to keep everything in view, even though she left the door between the two areas open.

  She saw Cutler saunter along the back of the houses and peer in. Let him peer! He wasn’t coming in till the café was open and there were other people around to help her if he became awkward.

  He had a face like one of his nasty sculptures, she decided, after staring out at him for a while. Malicious was the word that came to mind.

  He noticed her suddenly and scowled. You’d think he hated her. What reason could he have for that? Or perhaps he just hated the whole world.

  Iain rang in the middle of the afternoon to say he’d be back around eight o’clock and would come straight to her place, if she didn’t mind.

  ‘I’ll have a meal waiting for you,’ she said at once, beaming at her phone.

  ‘Good. I love your cooking. It’s as honest as you are and as wholesome.’

  ‘That’s a strange sort of compliment.’

  He chuckled. ‘I took my uncle to a fancy restaurant last night and who knew what they’d put into the various dishes? My uncle loved all the fussing, but the portions were tiny so I came away still feeling unsatisfied. As for the sauces, they were such little dabs that you could hardly taste them.’

  After the call ended, she checked her fridge and freezer, planning what to make for him, only she’d need to go out and buy a few things. She’d have to see if Elise or Stacy could keep an eye on things while she was gone.

  Then she realised there was no noise from the shop and hurried outside, just in time to see the last delivery van pull away.

  Of course, then she had to go upstairs to check the upper room and make sure no one had slipped in. But it was empty. Mr Kinnaird was going to put displays up here and run tours of the secret room and passages every hour or so, by which time the gallery downstairs would have plenty of items for sale.

  At least that was the general plan.

  When she’d gone downstairs again, the man hidden in the secret room smiled to himself, then went down the narrow stairway that led to the tunnels and along the one that connected with the electricity substation.

  Piece of cake, he thought with a smile. And lady luck on his side for once. What amused him most of all was that he wasn’t breaking any law by coming here, but was acting on the orders of someone with the official right to do this. Money for old rope.

  He set about opening the padlocks on the metal grille that barred the way from the tunnel on Denning’s land to the part passing under land belonging to the council and substation.

  Idiots who had no idea how to make things secure must have set this barrier up. They were relying on the law-abiding folk not to damage things set up to keep them out.

  Pity there weren’t valuable items stored in the secret room or he might have been able to pinch one or two. He still couldn’t work out what the person paying him wanted to break in for. Oh well, money was money and he was being paid generously to do this little job.

  He found the door on the other side of the padlocked grille unlocked, as promised. So he opened it and slipped through, closing the padlocks on the metal grille to look as if they were locked, and making sure he hadn’t left any footprints in the soft earth nearby.

  The doors in the electrical substation were all unlocked too, as promised

  First stage completed.

  First payment due.

  Easy-peasy.

  It being a weekday, Emil brought Abbie and Louis to see the secret room and the tunnels after school ended.

  The boy was fascinated, spending a long time looking at the various displays and asking a series of intelligent questions. Amazing questions for one his age, Emil thought, enjoying sharing his knowledge with the lad.

  After that he took the two of them down the narrow staircase into the tunnels, stopping at the exit linked to Number 6, then, at Louis’ pleading, going along the tunnel in the other direction, to where the grille prevented visitors to the museum from trying to get to the very end.

  ‘There are footprints along the edge here,’ Louis commented as he shone his torch around on the way back.

  ‘I daresay we’ll have left footprints too,’ Abbie said.

  ‘These are right at the edge and they don’t seem to be from heavy boots like the others. Have a look, Mr Kinnaird.’

  Emil did so and was puzzled by what he saw. These footprints seemed to have been made by ordinary shoes, not boots or trainers, and recently too, because they were fresh and undisturbed. ‘It must have been someone Mr or Mrs Denning were showing round. I doubt it was anyone working on the tunnels.’

  But Louis still frowned. ‘There aren’t any others like them and they’re on top of all the other footprints.’

  Emil and Abbie stared down at where the beam from the boy’s torch was pointing.

  ‘He’s right,’ Emil said. ‘Easy to solve the mystery. I’ll ask the Dennings who’s been down here lately. Come on. We’ll go back now. I’m going to buy us all ice creams.’

  ‘You’ll spoil his tea,’ Abbie protested.

  ‘From what I’ve seen, he could eat for Britain. It just means eating the dessert before the main course.’

  Louis nodded vigorously and Emil’s remark brought one of those rare, sweet smiles to Abbie’s face. ‘Oh, why not? I’m rather fond of ice creams too.’

  ‘I’ll get Dad to talk to you both about the museum he’s planning next time he comes to visit. He knows so much more than I do. And I’ve got some books if you want to read more about the era.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘I’ll bring them down from my flat after tea. Some of them have a lot of pictorial information and I think Louis would find them interesting.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  But later, as he left them and went upstairs to his own flat, Emil couldn’t help wondering about the footprints. Next time he saw Angus he was definitely going to ask who had been in the tunnels.

  He got his chance an hour later, when Angus rang and told him about the prowler and the damage to the CCTV.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ Emil said. ‘Ginger could be very vulnerable in that flat if thieves have targeted the secret room and found a way to get through to it. I think we should call the police in.’

  ‘Let’s give it a day or two, see if they return. Iain will be staying with Ginger tonight, so she’ll be OK, and my new components are supposed to arrive tomorrow, after which it’ll be a lot harder for them to get into Number 1, I can assure you.’

  ‘What about the footprints in
the tunnel?’

  ‘We’ll have to keep our eyes open. It’s probably someone from the council, because they have the key to that end of the tunnels. Maybe that Brody woman is sneaking around. I’ll make sure she can’t get into the houses, though.’

  ‘She sounds weird.’

  ‘She is. Which is why she’s never got a promotion, apparently. No one likes her, but unless she seriously misbehaves, they can’t get rid of her. See you soon.’

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Iain arrived back early, swinging Ginger round in his arms before she could say a word and then kissing her soundly. ‘Traffic was a dream, for once.’

  ‘Good. I can get tea ready in a few minutes if you’re hungry because I made a casserole in my trusty crockpot this morning.’ The gadget was well used, one of her favourite ways of cooking when she was facing a busy day, and also providing extra portions to put in her freezer.

  ‘Let’s have a drink first while I unwind. Wine or beer? I brought both.’

  ‘Wine, please.’

  He began opening the bottle. ‘My uncle sends his congratulations and is very pleased that I’ve found someone. I’ve promised we’ll FaceTime him in a day or two so that I can introduce you. I’ll have to phone first to check that he’s got his tablet switched on, though. He’s like me, prefers real people to images.’

  He poured two glasses of wine then fumbled in his pocket. ‘Nearly forgot. He sent this, says it’s a little engagement present for you to buy something for the house.’

  The envelope had her name scrawled on it in shaky handwriting and when she opened it she found a voucher for so much money she could only gasp and look at Iain in shock. ‘It’s too much.’

  ‘He’s not short of a few pennies. I’ll take you down to meet him next time I go. He’s eighty-six and doing very well for his age.’

  ‘He’ll be the second of your relatives I’ll be meeting. I wish—’ She didn’t finish her sentence and when he gave her hand a squeeze she knew he understood she was thinking of her son. For all the good that did.

  After a couple more sips, he said, ‘I’d better warn you now: there will be plenty more meetings with my relatives. I’ve got all sorts of cousins scattered around the south-west and we keep in touch.’

  He set his glass down and took hold of her hand again, such a loving look on his face that she was sure her heart really did skip a few beats.

  ‘How long do you want to be engaged for, Ginger? I’ll wait till you’re ready to marry, of course I will, but for me, the sooner we’re properly together the better. I shall be proud to call you my wife.’

  Tears of joy welled in her eyes. ‘We’d better decide on a date and do the deed, then, though let’s have a quiet wedding, eh, not a big fuss?’ She was glad he’d brought it up first.

  ‘Good girl. I don’t care how we get married as long as we do the deed.’ He raised his glass at her and winked, then kissed away a happy tear that had escaped her control.

  After the meal, he said, ‘Look, I’ll bring more plants tomorrow evening, two for each house, to replace those that have been killed, even for Cutler’s house. That’ll flummox him, because if it’s me doing it, he won’t be sure whether it’s at Angus’s bidding or not.’

  ‘That’d be great.’

  ‘But I don’t at all like the idea of someone prowling around when I’m away. Will you please promise me you’ll go and sleep at my house if I have to stay overnight anywhere in future?’

  She nodded. When you didn’t know what you were facing, it was better to play safe. But it upset her that this had blown up just as she was settling in.

  ‘And if you don’t mind, we’ll sleep at my house tomorrow night, because I want to show you a few things and discuss any changes you might like to make.’

  ‘What things?’

  He grinned. ‘Wait and see.’

  The outside lights came on suddenly around one o’clock in the morning and Iain woke as the light shone through the window into his eyes. He sat up in bed, glad he’d drawn the curtains back in case this happened as well as annoyed at being disturbed.

  ‘Oh, hell. Can’t a man have one night in peace?’ he muttered.

  He didn’t switch the bedroom light on but looked out of the window and scanned the back garden. Nothing to be seen.

  He slipped through into the shop and keeping to one side, stared out of the window at the front of the houses. There was a figure edging past. Surely it was … yes, Cutler. What was he doing out at this hour? Was he the prowler?

  Iain watched as their neighbour moved past. He waited as the scrawny little weasel stood watching something. He looked in that direction too. Was it his imagination or could he see another figure in the shadows of the little grove at the end of the street?

  No, it wasn’t his imagination. There was definitely a figure there, moving away now, slipping from one dark shadow to another, but in places moonlight fell on some part of his body so it was possible to tell he was there, moving. Well, Iain assumed it was a fellow, but you couldn’t tell for sure at that distance.

  He waited till there were no more signs of the figure. Whoever it was must have left now.

  As Cutler came back, Iain moved even deeper into the shadows at the side of the big room.

  ‘Who was it?’ Ginger whispered from behind him.

  ‘That was Cutler, but I saw another fellow too. Cutler seemed to be watching him.’

  ‘Were they together?’

  ‘I didn’t see them together or even signalling to one another. I don’t think the one in the distance knew he was being followed.’

  ‘Let’s go back to bed. I don’t know if I can get to sleep, though.’

  But she did, cuddled in his arms.

  In the morning someone knocked on the front door of the gallery and Iain went to answer it.

  ‘Cutler, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. I thought I saw movement near the end house. Did you see the security lights go on last night?’

  ‘Yes. And I saw you creeping down the street.’

  ‘That’s because there was a prowler. Fine caretaker Ginger is. She should have been on to that.’

  ‘She isn’t the caretaker, as you’ve been told before, and I don’t like your tone. If you speak about my future wife like that again in my hearing, I’ll take great offence.’ He raised one clenched fist and slapped it into his other hand for emphasis, letting that unspoken threat sink in before continuing, ‘But since I was here, I came out of the flat to see what was going on. All I saw was you creeping around, then going back into your house, and another figure in the distance.’

  ‘The other figure was the prowler. I happen to live here. And if she has no responsibility for this sort of thing, I’m calling Denning about it. He should have better security set up for us than this. The carvings I produce are valuable.’

  ‘Why didn’t you call Angus last night?’

  ‘The prowler went away. I stayed up to check, but he didn’t come back.’ Cutler’s scowl deepened. ‘Have you moved in with her permanently? Does Denning know? I thought this place was for artists, not gardeners!’

  Without waiting for an answer he went back inside his house.

  Nasty little oik, Iain thought, using his old uncle’s favourite word for a person he disliked and distrusted.

  He’d make sure Ginger spent tonight with him at his house. She’d looked tired yesterday and now she’d had another broken night. It wouldn’t do. He’d tell Angus himself that she needed a rest and someone else should be found to keep watch on Saffron Lane, if he felt it was needed.

  In fact, he’d do it straight away.

  Angus answered the phone and listened to what Iain said. He agreed to look into it and try to do something about the problem permanently.

  When the call was over, Angus was about to explain what had happened to Nell but another call came in. This time it was Cutler, telling him the same thing as Iain in a much less polite way, and complaining about the lack of security, as if h
e expected his every wish to be granted.

  Angus had heard people refer to this as ‘the entitled generation’. He wasn’t sure he agreed for everyone, but the description certainly fitted Cutler.

  After he’d tried to reassure the fellow and failed, Cutler put the phone down with a bang. Damn him! Could he not even be polite?

  After a few moments’ thought, Angus decided to discuss the situation with Emil, because he could only think it must be something about the secret room that was attracting attention. What else could it be? He phoned him to explain what had happened, invited Kinnaird to drop in for a coffee to discuss what they could do, and went to warn Nell that a visitor was on the way.

  It took Emil only ten minutes to get there. He frowned when Angus explained in more detail about the prowler. ‘We can’t have that. Apart from anything else, I’d hate to see anything happen to Ginger. I really like her.’

  ‘We do, too,’ Nell said. ‘So what are we going to do about this? Set a trap?’

  Emil said at once, ‘Well, we can’t let this person continue to upset her. We or the police do have to catch him at it.’

  ‘And the police are not going to waste officers on the mere possibility of such a minor incident,’ Nell said.

  ‘Exactly.’ Angus eyed Emil in an assessing way. ‘You look as if you could stand up for yourself in a fight.’

  ‘Ah. Well, I could before I had this health problem and I will be able to again. But at the moment—’

  Emil saw them looking puzzled and knew he couldn’t hide his reasons if he was to retain their respect. ‘I’m just recovering from major surgery.’ It was hard to say the word, because he didn’t like telling people, but he forced it out. ‘Cancer. They think they caught it all, but I have to take things a bit easy physically for a few months.’

  ‘Then of course we won’t involve you in anything dangerous. I’ll ask Iain to keep watch with me. He’s a strong fellow and he’ll want to make sure Ginger is safe.’