A Crowded Coffin(67)

Looking stern, she called in, spoke urgently to whoever was on duty, was transferred to someone else, and finally caught up with an officer who not only knew her but also took her seriously. ‘He’s sending a car right away,’ she said, with grim satisfaction. ‘And he also said we’re to keep out of trouble.’

‘Fair enough,’ Rory shrugged. ‘All I want to do is have a bath and go to sleep, but first of all, a coffee. Come on, I’ll put the kettle on.’

Harriet nodded. ‘Tea for me, please. No sign of Karen and Elveece? What happened to them?’

‘He had a late-night gig in Portsmouth. The party here was very sedate and finished by nine o’clock, so Karen went with him. They’re staying overnight with one of his mates so they’ve got today off.’ He spooned coffee into a mug for himself and found a tea bag for Harriet. ‘Let’s have another look at that note.’ He pulled the plastic wallet out from under his sweatshirt and they studied the document once more. It still made no sense to either of them.

‘Oh well, let’s leave it till tomorrow. That’s the best cup of tea I’ve had in years,’ she told him. ‘I’m feeling much better already.’

‘Me too.’ He finished the slice of cake she’d cut and stood up. ‘I’m not tired any more, still pumping adrenaline. Are you doing okay? So how about we go up and check out the picture gallery while we’re still wired? I’d like to take another look at a couple of paintings – I think they could be very special.’

‘Fine.’ She drained her mug and followed him out of the kitchen. ‘Edith told me you’d been dropping hints, but she was a bit put out that you wouldn’t go into any detail.’

‘No chance,’ he grinned as they crossed the hall. ‘You know what she’s like, she’d be up there with the Fairy Liquid, trying to clean off the grime of centuries, hoping to find a Leonardo.’

Harriet was struck by his air of excitement. ‘A Leonardo?’

‘Maybe,’ he said, with a tantalizing smile. ‘It’s no use teasing, Harriet, I’m not saying another word till we’ve got an expert in.’

As they passed Rory’s door, Harriet was surprised to see him hesitate and glance anxiously round. He said nothing. They were heading up the back stairs, Harriet in the lead, when her heart almost stopped. Just above them, in the gallery, she could hear cautious footsteps on the old polished boards.

Too late to retreat, her abrupt halt made Rory walk into her and his ensuing grunt was loud enough to wake the dead. Damn, she thought, her heart thudding now, I really wish I hadn’t had that particular thought. The door stood half open and she froze, panic rising like bile. What are we to do? There’s a murderer in there. She reached a hand back behind her and was relieved to feel Rory’s firm, warm clasp. Did he hear us? Can we get away downstairs?

‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ John Forrester stood in the doorway, a look of mild exasperation in his eyes. ‘I thought you two were out of the picture. Oh well, you’d better come in.’

The gun in his hand made the argument persuasive and they followed him into the room. Harriet gave a little gasp when she spotted Brendan Whittaker lying unconscious on the floor, and she shot Rory a warning look. The vicar was a very dangerous man, there was no question.

‘Quite,’ he said, evidently picking up on her thought. ‘Sensible, Miss Quigley. Keep it like that.’

He looked at them and, to her astonishment, he smiled at her. ‘For heaven’s sake, sit down, Dr Attlin,’ he said, pointing to a chair. Rory staggered across the room and sat down, unable, Harriet realized, to do more than obey. The boy was clearly exhausted almost beyond bearing and might be close to collapse. She turned back and caught the vicar watching her.

‘You sit down too, Miss Q,’ he said, pushing another chair in her direction. ‘And maybe you can suggest what on earth I’m supposed to do with you both?’ He shrugged. ‘I should have made sure of you, I knew it at the time, but Brendan interfered. Oh well.’ He nodded to her and she was suddenly chilled by the familiarity of his charming smile. ‘Maybe you can assist me in my enquiries, as they say. You know a lot about the Attlins, don’t you, being one of the family yourself.’

Harriet nodded silently, glancing covertly at the silent form of Brendan Whittaker. Was he unconscious, or – worse? John Forrester was still watching her and he followed her gaze. ‘Yes, well, sometimes people get in the way.’

He said nothing more but she felt herself recoil. So it was true; and if Brendan had got in the way, what of Rory and Harriet?