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‘Pointless to mention it again,’ Guinevere caught.
And another voice: ‘Man, be sensible. You can never keep this.’
‘It’s mine. And I’ll keep it. No matter what I have to do for it.’
Oliver pushed the door open, and Guinevere saw Bolingbrooke and a handsome middle-aged man in a neat grey suit almost nose to nose in the middle of the room.
Bolingbrooke’s right hand rested on the table where the tray with sandwiches sat. The butler had placed another tray beside it with a ham and a round cheese. A sharp knife was placed at the ready for cutting.
Bolingbrooke’s fingers closed round the handle of the knife as if he was ready to pick it up and brandish it at his opponent.
‘Ah,’ Oliver said in a loud voice, barging into the room. ‘You’re already here. Guinevere, this is Arthur Haydock. Haydock, this is our new recruit: Guinevere Evans.’
Following suit, Guinevere reached out her hand, and Haydock had to turn away from Bolingbrooke. His brown eyes surveyed her critically. ‘A new addition to our cast, you mean? I didn’t know we still had any parts left to give out.’
His gaze fell to Dolly, and he snorted. ‘A new addition to your dog park too, Bolingbrooke? Isn’t this one a little small for your tastes?’
‘That’s Guinevere’s dog,’ Bolingbrooke barked. ‘And you can rest assured: Guinevere has nothing to do with your silly little play. She’s here to catalogue my books.’
While speaking, Bolingbrooke inched away from the table and the knife, not looking at Oliver, who shot his father accusing glances. After all, he had warned him about staying away from Haydock and about avoiding a scene like this one.
‘So pleased to meet you both.’ Guinevere shook Leah’s hand now. It was clammy as if she had worked herself up about her father’s behaviour.
‘Leah is a junior partner in my law firm,’ Haydock said with emphasis. ‘And what kind of work do you normally do?’ He looked Guinevere over with a mix of curiosity and bewilderment. ‘This book cataloguing thing is just a summer assignment, I presume?’
‘I work in a theatre,’ Guinevere said. She straightened her back as she spoke, pulling back her shoulders. She was used to people not considering it a real job.
‘You’re an actress?’ Leah asked, her eyes lighting up. ‘You have to tell us something about the plays you perform in.’
‘No, I do costume design. I also help out backstage during performances.’
‘And what do you study?’ Haydock asked in a patronizing tone. ‘I mean, such a job is obviously meant to earn a little something on the side while you get your degree.’
‘I already have my degree, in drama and theatre studies. I was very lucky to find a theatre that could take me on right away.’ Guinevere couldn’t resist adding, ‘In London.’
‘I would love to live in London,’ Leah said. She had a warm, melodious voice, and her tense expression relaxed as she took to the topic. ‘All those historic sites and museums to visit.’
‘Then why don’t you move there?’ Oliver said. His tone was a little too loud for a normal question. It was more like a challenge.
Leah flushed the same colour as her trouser suit. She held her head up, but her shoulders slumped as if she was physically trying to remove herself from the scene.
The butler appeared in the door and announced, ‘Kensa and Tegen Morgan.’
A stout woman in her late forties walked in, carrying a twined basket on her arm. She was already dressed in a woollen garb that gave her a medieval look. ‘I made some changes to the script. I’ll hand out the new information right away.’ She reached under the cloth in the basket she was carrying. Dolly came over to see if there were any treats forthcoming.
‘Not again,’ Bolingbrooke said. ‘Why can’t you just leave the play alone?’
‘There are no changes to the text,’ Kensa countered. ‘Just a few directions as to where everybody should be standing. Body posture and so on.’ Kensa threw Leah a pointed look as she said the latter.
Leah said, ‘Guinevere here works in a theatre. I’m sure she knows much better than you how people in a play should behave.’
Guinevere cringed at being drawn into the disagreement in this way, but Kensa ignored the mention completely and started to pass sheets around with brisk movements.
Leah accepted hers but put it on the table right away without even looking at what it said.
Haydock flashed Kensa a smile and even said something in a low voice that Guinevere couldn’t overhear.
Bolingbrooke made an evasive gesture, and Kensa put the paper beside him on a side table. ‘You have a small part anyway. Doesn’t matter much whether you are any good or not.’
‘A small part?’ Bolingbrooke protested. ‘In the Middle Ages the lord of the castle had the power of life and death over the people under his rule. He could decide to have you strung up just because he didn’t like you.’
The girl who had come in with Kensa was still at the door, watching the scene as if the take-charge behaviour embarrassed her.
Their shared surname – Morgan – suggested these two were related, but there was little likeness in their faces. While Kensa was blonde with bags under her eyes suggesting she slept badly, Tegen had wild raven hair and a deep tan as if she was outdoors a lot. She wasn’t in medieval garb either but a green shimmery cocktail dress that ended two inches above the knees.
Tegen focused on Oliver, and her expression lit. ‘I had no idea you were back here, Ollie.’
Oliver didn’t seem to share her enthusiasm for their reunion. He looked at her dress and said, ‘I’m sure polyester wasn’t around in the Middle Ages.’
‘Well, I don’t want to look like an idiot in front of all of those people. Mum says the society is inviting members from other societies to attend. There might even be a piece in the newspapers. I want to look good.’ Tegen smoothed down the short skirt, the silver bracelets on her left arm tinkling. Intrigued by the sound, Dolly came over, and Tegen sat on her haunches at once to scratch the doggy behind the ears. ‘We need a dog too, Mum. Just a small one like this. At Emma’s there was an ad for puppies.’
Kensa’s eyes narrowed. ‘What were you doing at Emma’s?’
Tegen ignored the question and said, ‘Golden retriever puppies. They’re so fluffy and cute.’
Kensa had returned to her basket and looked Oliver over. ‘Don’t they feed you on your travels?’
‘Mum!’ Tegen shot to her feet and elbowed her. ‘He’s just lean.’
Oliver didn’t seem to hear as he lifted the cloth covering off the basket. There were garments inside like the one Kensa wore herself, of coarse dark material. Oliver scoffed as he ran his hand over the fabric. ‘Haydock’s going to wear this? That’ll be the day. Why didn’t he want to be the judge in the play? Be on the good side of the law?’
Looking past him as if he didn’t exist, Haydock said to Kensa, ‘Now that the costumes are ready for us to wear during our rehearsal tonight it will be even more real than other times.’
He seemed to want to catch Kensa’s eye, but she avoided looking at him, fussing with the basket instead. Her reluctance to engage formed a complete contrast with her earlier dominant behaviour.
Oliver pressed Haydock, ‘Why did you want to be Branok?’
Haydock’s eyes flashed a moment. ‘Branok was a resourceful man. Without him this castle would have ended up destitute. He saved it. He should never have been tried.’
‘He wasn’t convicted,’ Oliver scoffed. ‘He got away scot-free.’
‘Scot-free? He was forced to leave the island. Even without any conviction his old life as he had built it was over. Hardly fair.’
‘Fair?’ Kensa hitched a brow. ‘That man was guilty of the death of two small children. Hurting children is the worst thing anyone can ever do.’
There was a short tense silence. Haydock seemed to have flinched under her words as if they struck him across the face.
Then Kensa said in a forced light tone, ‘Do you have the Branok ring?’
‘Yes,’ Haydock said, reaching into his pocket as if to produce it.
Everybody watched him expectantly, but he retracted his hand. ‘When I’m dressed, I’ll put it on.’ He looked around slowly. ‘You’ll be surprised to see it. It’s the genuine article.’
‘I don’t believe you have a ring dating back to Branok’s lifetime,’ Oliver said at once. ‘Where would you have found it?’ He surveyed him suspiciously.
‘Maybe not dating back to Branok’s lifetime, but it’s centuries old. And intimately connected with Cornisea.’ Haydock smiled as he said it, hiding some secret satisfaction related to the ring he carried on his person.
Everybody waited for him to go on, but he didn’t seem willing to reveal more about it right now.
Then Bolingbrooke said, ‘Yes, well, let’s get on with it. Everybody better get dressed and then I’ll lock Branok in the dungeon. Perhaps Oliver can go down there already to light the torches?’
He looked at Guinevere and explained, ‘We still have no electric light in the dungeons. It’s old-fashioned torches along the wall.’
‘More like lanterns with tea lights in it.’ Oliver gestured at her. ‘Do you want to come along? Then you can see the dungeon. Everybody else has already seen it.’
The latter seemed meant to stop Tegen, who appeared about to invite herself along.
Guinevere agreed and snapped her fingers at Dolly, who immediately came to her side. They followed Oliver out of the room. The last thing Guinevere saw was Tegen, whispering angrily to her mother. Kensa wasn’t listening though as she was watching Haydock and his daughter Leah with a brooding look.
‘Nobody seems to like each other,’ Guinevere observed as they took a corridor that led into a dim recess. ‘Is all this tension just because of the play? Kensa seemed to force her directions onto the others.’
‘That’s just the way she is.’ Oliver sighed. ‘She thinks she did most of the work for the play, gathering information from sources kept here at the castle. So she believes she should tell everybody how to act the part. Besides, they’ve all been stuck here for all of their lives. They have history with each other.’
‘History?’ Guinevere asked, trying to interpret the word.
Oliver made a gesture. ‘If you asked my father, he’d say Kensa is always supporting Haydock, because she’s in love with him. But that was ages ago, before she married her husband. Haydock was ambitious even then and he would never have married someone who wasn’t in his league. The woman he did marry brought in money and connections so he could establish his law firm. His only disappointment in life is that he doesn’t have a son to take over.’
‘So he took Leah in.’ Guinevere understood. ‘Is she her father’s successor now?’
‘She’d be very stupid if she agreed to that.’
Oliver sounded bitter again, like he had before. Apparently, there was also history between him and Leah. Concerning her professional choices?
‘Why would it be stupid?’ Guinevere probed. ‘Leah seems so eager to please her father.’
‘That’s exactly why. The old kitchens,’ Oliver said, waving his hands in that direction. ‘But we’re going down here.’ He took the iron ring on an old door in his hand and pulled. The door opened slowly with an ominous creak.
Guinevere felt a shiver go down her spine. Dungeons had been creepy places in times gone by. People had been locked up there with the rats, awaiting trial or execution. Without daylight, with just a little food. And foremost no hope of ever getting free again.
Oliver gestured. ‘Ladies first.’
Dolly yapped and seemed eager to explore the dark void ahead.
Guinevere hung back and protested, ‘But I have no light.’
‘Here you go.’ Oliver reached inside the door and produced a large torch. ‘Hold tight, it’s heavy.’
Guinevere took it from his grasp and switched it on. The light fell on a stone floor that soon turned into steps that went down. Guinevere moved forward carefully, keeping her eyes trained on the floor right before her feet. Dolly didn’t seem to mind the darkness as she jogged ahead, sniffing every few paces. Her nails scratched across the stone.
Behind Guinevere’s back the door fell to a close. The sound echoed away into the emptiness ahead of her. Goose bumps rose on her arms.
‘Spooky, huh?’ Oliver said at her shoulder.
Guinevere shivered, imagining rustling ahead of them and reddish rodent eyes lighting up in the darkness, but she forced herself to walk on quietly. ‘What was that between your father and Haydock anyway? They seemed ready to come to blows. And you had even warned him to avoid such a situation.’
‘Yes, well, Haydock should of course not set one foot here. It’s asking for trouble. But he’s in the play, he’s our leading man even, so we have to put up with him.’ Oliver took a deep breath. ‘Haydock and his Cornisea Historical Society are after the castle.’
Chapter Three (#ulink_dcceee8d-b098-59ea-8be9-ed2f7c42a53c)
It was a short terse statement with a lot of implications.
Oliver said, ‘They believe they can do a better job of exploiting it. Open it to the public.’
‘It would draw people in droves. It’s so beautiful.’
‘It’s also private property. People should respect that.’ Oliver tapped her shoulder. ‘Watch your step now; it’s very uneven in places.’
They reached a large room with metal cage constructions along the wall. There were four of them on either side. Each cage had metal rings in the wall to which the prisoners used to be shackled. In one of the cages there was a table and a chair.
Dolly managed to squeeze herself through the bars and dashed under the table. When she ran out on the other end, she touched the chair, and it tottered, almost falling over.
‘Come here, girl,’ Guinevere called and added to Oliver, ‘The floor is really ragged there.’
‘Yes, the cells were never meant to have furniture in them. But Haydock claimed that by the time of the Branok trial these cells weren’t what they had once been. He wants to sit at that table, writing up his last will. History does say Branok wrote a will in here, or a map with directions to his hidden stash, whatever you like to believe, but I bet he did it shackled to the wall. If he could write at all, of course. Over time he must have become larger than life, while he might just have been a lawless scoundrel.’
‘But he was steward at the castle, right? Shouldn’t a steward have been able to read and write?’ Guinevere asked curiously.
‘Not necessarily. Branok might have been appointed because he was shrewd and knew how to play people. A clerk may have kept the accounts. Many orphans who had been raised at monasteries could read and write and they found positions at keeps like this one.’
‘If Branok had a clerk who knew about all his dealings, and some of them were unfair, that clerk must have been his accomplice,’ Guinevere mused. ‘Was he heard at the trial?’
‘A partner in crime?’ Oliver winked at her. ‘I doubt that Branok shared his illegal transactions with the clerk who kept the official records for the castle. He probably went about that business alone.’ He scanned her expression. ‘You sound like you know something about trials.’
‘More about murder investigations. We’ve been rehearsing a play set in the roaring Twenties about a murder at an estate where young ladies are groomed for high society. I helped working out some kinks in the scenario.’
‘In the scenario?’ Oliver frowned.
‘Yes, some clues were too obscure. And one motive didn’t make sense at all. The audience does need a fair chance to unmask the killer, you know.’ She looked at the cell Haydock was going to use. ‘Only one way in – through the door. But there is a sort of hole in the wall?’
She pointed at a square, large enough to put a man’s fist through. Light seeped in, but the outside world couldn’t be seen clearly as the walls were so thick that her view was obstructed by the stone she looked upon.
‘It’s like something is moving on the other side,’ Guinevere said, squinting. ‘The light isn’t flowing in naturally.’
‘Probably bushes,’ Oliver said. ‘That’s the garden out there. I think …’ He frowned as if conjuring up the plan of the castle in his mind. ‘Rhododendrons.’
‘So these dungeons are not like cellars?’
‘In part,’ Oliver said. ‘You may have noticed that the castle’s entry door has steps in front of it. The whole castle is built a little higher, as it were, and the room below was used for these dungeons and for cellars to keep food. The dungeons did not need to be deep underground as escape was virtually impossible anyway. Just look at it. You were shackled to the wall. Then the cage was locked. The door through which we just entered was bolted from the outside. And there were always people around.
