Chapter 18
Tentatively everyone started picking at their food again, but with Leonard simmering at the head of the table and casting his accusatory eye around us all, it did rather put a dampener on things. It seemed that nobody thought it was likely anyone had done something to his quad bike. And then Peter, who’d been quiet and contemplative up until that point, added his own thoughts.
‘Do you have enemies, Leonard?’ he asked. ‘I can’t think it’s likely your family and friends would wish ill of you, so who do you think might be responsible?’
‘Well, I don’t have a particular person in mind,’ Leonard said, glancing up at each face in turn around the table, including an unpleasant lingering look at me.
I swallowed hard and put my slice of pie back on my plate as a sudden wave of nausea took me.
‘Perhaps a disgruntled tenant farmer? A person in the village with an axe to grind? A husband whose wife you’ve dallied with?’ Peter asked.
There was a ripple of laughter at the last suggestion and I wasn’t sure if it was the image of Leonard with a woman, or the word dallied, which surely belonged in the last century. Leonard had turned a shade of puce and the laughter died down.
‘Perhaps,’ Peter continued, ‘someone from your art world. You’re quite the collector, maybe you have someone who’s after a treasure you’ve acquired.’
Peter said the word acquired as if it was a nasty taste in his mouth. Leonard levelled him a look, his face a more even shade now he seemed to have regained his composure.
A silence followed that was palpable and the scraping of cutlery on plates ceased. It was like watching a game of tennis, all looking from Leonard and then back to Peter. Now, though, all eyes were on the master of the house.
‘All I know,’ he said quietly, ‘is that when I went into the pub for lunch my brakes were fine and when I came out the pipe had been punctured.’
‘So nobody here could have been responsible then,’ Peter said. ‘Because everyone was inside the pub, weren’t they?’
‘I couldn’t possibly say if anyone popped outside, could I.’
‘Yes, but think about what you’re actually saying. One of your nearest and dearest has a grudge against you? You’re a nice bloke, Leonard, aren’t you? What possible reason could someone have among your party to be involved in an unpleasant situation like that?’
More silence and then Leonard obviously seemed to realise he’d been cornered.
‘You’re right, Peter,’ he said with a silly little laugh. ‘I’m being ridiculous. It’s the bash to my head. No one has it in for me – how could they possibly? Let’s have no more talk about it now. Caroline and Toby are only two nights away from their wedding. Let us only have talk of good things.’
He stood then and raised his glass of red wine, encouraging everyone to do the same. Slowly and reluctantly we did, although Dorothy hesitated longer than anyone else and I only had a glass of water to hand. After, when we’d settle back to eating, Leonard picked up a remote control from beside his plate.
‘Music,’ he announced. ‘In all the excitement, I forgot the music.’
Pressing a button, the room was suddenly filled with medieval music. The sound of lutes and harpsichords surrounded us and I was surprised that Leonard hadn’t ordered a group of troubadours to entertain us in person.
The rest of the meal was subdued, the conversation stilted and forced. By ten-thirty Peter was making noises about leaving and I had a sudden urge to talk to him. As the rest of the group started to depart the table to carry on drinking on the patio, I sidled over to him.
‘When you go, may I walk with you, please? I have some questions about the monument in your church and would love to hear more about the history.’
If Peter was surprised he didn’t show it.
‘I’d be delighted,’ he said.
Leonard had already left the room and wasn’t, I assumed, in earshot, but those who were would be able to report a plausible excuse for my whereabouts if needed. Although, I could just as easily have gone to bed.
‘I do need to see Dorothy up, if you wouldn’t mind waiting.’
‘You need do no such thing,’ Dorothy said, her voice indignant. ‘I have limbs enough for the stairs and to get myself to bed.’
‘I’m going up now, Dot,’ Lavinia said. ‘You’ve been so diligent this week, Gina, you certainly deserve a walk down to the church.’
All settled, Peter and I set off from a side servants’ door in a silent understanding that a big goodbye from the front would alert Leonard to our departure and neither of us were keen for that, it seemed.
The evening wasn’t much cooler than it had been during the day and I was reminded of Lavinia mentioning about a possible storm come Saturday. If it was going to break I hoped it would happen before then. It would be awful for Caroline and Toby to have a week of hot, dry weather only to realise a downpour on their actual wedding day.
‘What an evening,’ I started. ‘I wonder if Leonard had concussion after all his talk about sabotage.’
I decided to jump straight in and hoped that Peter wouldn’t be too disappointed that church history wouldn’t be featuring in our conversation.
‘I didn’t really think you wanted to talk about the church,’ he said with a chuckle.
‘I used to be an art historian many years ago, to be honest, and I would actually love to know more about your church, but I have a more pressing issue and wanted to entrust you with some of my thoughts.’
With time running out, I decided to trust and be honest with him. The week was nearly over and we were no closer to finding the painting. I hadn’t even been looking today. It wasn’t going to just fall in my lap and I needed to up my game.
‘Ah, how interesting. So, what brings a former art historian to become a companion to an elderly woman?’
‘A rather long story, a change in direction, you might say. May I get straight to the point?’
‘By all means.’
‘Do you think that Leonard is a criminal?’
‘Ah, I see, straight to the point. And yes, I do. Why do you ask? As Dorothy’s companion, I can’t see why it would matter all that much. You’ll be gone by the end of the week.’
I weighed up whether Dorothy’s secret was only hers to tell and decided that as time was pressing I should just go for it. I also wondered whether I was being blinkered by the dog collar and who was to say how trustworthy Peter actually was.
‘Dorothy believes that a painting belonging to her husband was stolen by Leonard and she’s employed me to try to find it. Her husband died after a bungled burglary. They were supposed to be out and the thief broke in, took the painting and was leaving when Philip chased him, fell, and later died.’
‘Goodness, I was not expecting you to say that. And she thinks Leonard broke in? Because I have to say, he usually gets others to do his dirty work.’
We’d reached the end of the driveway and were round onto the path leading to the church gate.
‘No, she believes it was someone employed by him. Is that something you’d know anything about?’ I asked him.
Peter steered me to the left and towards the lane that ran down to the rectory before he answered.
‘I’ll tell you what I know and what I believe to be true. Leonard is a man who likes people around him that owe him in some way. Harry, for example. I can’t tell you what Harry did in a past life, because he wasn’t specific, but Leonard knows about it and keeps him close. I know this because Harry told me. He’s worried that Leonard will spill the beans, so to speak, and he’s probably right to be worried, although I have told him to come clean. That way he can cut ties with Leonard and live an honest life, possibly behind bars for a short while, but honest all the same. I think he’s wavering, but it’s his choice. I believe Harry is currently helping Leonard to conceal stolen goods in the house. He’s not so much a collector of art, but a thief of it.
‘Harry hasn’t confirmed this, but I’ve seen comings and goings. There’s a good viewpoint of the back of the house from my spare bedroom window in the rectory and yes, I do realise how that makes me look. I just feel I ought to know what’s going on under my nose. To be honest, I’m not sure how to act, yet.’
I didn’t say anything as we walked up the path to his front door. I was taking it all in, though.
‘I’m not all that surprised by what you’ve told me. It confirms what I thought. So, Harry isn’t to be trusted then.’
‘No, Harry is to be trusted and I suggest you go and speak to him. He’s looking for an out from his situation in that house and if he can get Leonard to loosen his grip, he’ll be onto the right path.’
‘Surely he just needs to tell Leonard that he’s leaving and see where the dice fall.’
‘You’re right, but that’s for him to decide. If you talk to him, though, he might feel a sense of safety in numbers.’
‘Or he might tell Leonard what I’m doing in his house and I could well feel the wrath of the man. You’re asking me to put my faith in a criminal after all.’
We’d stopped at Peter’s door and I declined his invitation for a cup of coffee.
‘I should be walking you back now,’ he said.
‘No need, I’m more than capable,’ I said.
‘I can see that,’ Peter replied. ‘Gina, Harry will probably know where Leonard keeps his stolen artwork. He probably helps him to hide it. He might well know where the painting is. Maybe you could just ask him that. And if he’s forthcoming, maybe you could encourage him to take the right path.’
‘Maybe I could just phone the police and tell them Leonard has a house full of stolen goods,’ I mused.
‘I wouldn’t do that. I don’t think it’s all in the house. Leonard has many places on his estate to tuck things away. The police will need more than hearsay and if Leonard finds out, he could well move the lot.’
‘That’s pretty much what Dorothy said. So, I’m looking in the house and may well be wasting my time.’
‘Possibly; possibly not. I’m sorry I can’t help you more than that, but I would urge you to talk to Harry.’
‘You’ve been very helpful, Peter,’ I said. ‘Thank you for your honesty. I’ll say goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Gina, I’ll see you at the wedding on Saturday, no doubt.’
‘I was rather hoping to duck out of it and go searching, but now I’m wondering if it might be a waste of time.’
I left the rectory and walked slowly back to the house, my head full of what I had to do next. Talk to Harry, the man who half terrified me, but who also cooked amazing food.
I could hear laughter coming from the music room and what sounded like Toby playing the piano again, but I walked straight past and up the stairs to my bedroom with no wish to interact with any of them. I thought briefly of telling Dorothy what I had learned from Peter, but she seemed tired earlier and was probably already asleep; I didn’t want to wake her. I also contemplated going downstairs to see if Harry was around, but decided that the morning would be soon enough for that conversation and I’d have the night to think about how on earth I was going to broach the subject with him.
I pushed open my door, quite keen to sink under the covers, but to my surprise, Juliet was sitting on my bed.
‘Where have you been?’ she hissed. ‘We’re wasting time while you’re busy chatting up the vicar.’
‘I wasn’t chatting him up, I was finding out information, if you must know.’
‘Well, either way, Leonard is a bit drunk and he’s in the music room and because of his knee and his head, he’s not in a position to come chasing us up the stairs, so we need to hunt in his sitting room and the attic.’
‘Now?’ I asked. ‘I was just going to bed.’
‘Did you listen to anything I just said? We might not get another easy opportunity.’
Juliet was already up and to the door. She pushed past me and stood out on the landing with her arms folded.
‘Come on!’
I hesitated because hadn’t Peter told me that the stolen items might not even be in the house? They could be anywhere on his land. I really needed to speak to Harry before more fruitless searching. But I didn’t want to tell Juliet what I’d learned from Peter. She already knew too much and she was just a young girl after all.
‘Look, Juliet, this could all go horribly wrong,’ I said. ‘There would be serious consequences to being found snooping. It’s one thing me doing it, but a whole other thing for you. I don’t want to let your grandmother down, but I’m not happy about any of this,’ I said and watched as she tilted her head onto one side and drew her lips into a thin line.
‘I’m always snooping. I’m well known for it, so it would come as no surprise to anyone. If you’re really not comfortable then go back to your room and I’ll search on my own,’ she said with a look of resignation.
‘You are not looking on your own,’ I said.
‘They’re all downstairs, a bit drunk and not remotely bothered about what we’re doing.’
I supposed it couldn’t be worse than being found in Leonard’s bedroom and that didn’t happen, luckily. I couldn’t have her looking on her own; I’d have to go with her.
‘All right then,’ I said with huge reluctance. ‘Let’s go.’
I slid my phone into the back pocket of my trousers and we made our way along the landing, across the staircase gallery and up into the tight staircase that led up to the rooms above. I paused with my hand on the banister and took a breath.
‘Let’s be quick and quiet. No talking unless there is great need,’ I said and Juliet nodded in response before sprinting up the staircase. I followed at a more sedate pace.
The attic space was not what I expected it to be. It wasn’t a dark and dusty place, but rather a perfectly ordered area. Round skylights in the roof meant that in daytime it would be bathed in light, but for now, as I looked up, I could only see stars in the cloudless, ink-coloured sky. It was also quite a big space, but there wasn’t much in it. It was surprisingly sparse.
There were shelves in the eaves with books that were ordered alphabetically as you’d expect in a library or a bookshop. I was surprised to see as I bent down to scan the spines that they were mostly commercial fiction paperbacks and had titles I’d seen published in the last few years. They weren’t first editions, classics, collectors’ copies or expensive hardbacks. There were also crates and boxes stacked neatly in the middle of the space where there was more headroom and I lifted the lid on one to see what was inside. It was full of vintage china teacups and saucers, the kind you’d use for afternoon tea. Nothing matched. It was a mix of designs as eclectic as the rest of Leonard’s things. Juliet raised her eyebrows in surprise and opened another box. This time it contained vases, all chintzy and similar to the cups. Another had styled candleholders with the same designs, and another had trinket dishes.
‘Does he just steal from old ladies?’ Juliet whispered and I gave her a look. ‘Yeah, but where’s all the silver, the gold and diamonds? Why is he stealing stuff from car-boot sales?’
In one corner there were maybe twenty rugs rolled up and stacked one on top of another. I pulled an edge back on one and was surprised to see it was a decent Persian, although a little threadbare.
‘Gina!’ Juliet hissed, and I turned to see her in the far corner, under one of the windows with the full moon casting a perfect circle of muted light onto her head like a halo.
It looked like she’d found a stack of paintings leaning against the wall. She was already pulling them back and letting them lean against her legs by the time it took me to get there. We worked through all of them, but they were mostly portraits. There were no coastal scenes and I could feel my natural tendency to calm slip a little.
‘Absolute bloody waste of time,’ I said, pushing the paintings back and crouching down on my haunches. I rested my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. ‘It’s like Del-Boy’s flat in here.’
‘I don’t know what that means,’ Juliet said.
‘Like it’s all fallen off the back of a lorry.’
‘Well, we’re not giving up now! Sitting room,’ Juliet whispered impatiently, tugging on my arm and then helping me to my feet. I stood up, grateful for the assistance.
I took one last look around the room in case we’d missed something, but it remained a huge disappointment. We left the attic as we’d found it and walked quietly down the stairs, round to the main staircase and on to Leonard’s wing of the house. His bedroom door was open and he wasn’t in it, neither the sitting room, and I had to assume he was still downstairs. I looked at my watch and could see it was nearly eleven. I doubted they’d all be down there for much longer, but I could just about still hear the faint strains of the piano and some distant laughter.
‘Do you want to wait outside and call if someone comes?’ I asked Juliet.
‘What would be the point of that? By the time someone was up here, it would be too late, and what would I say about me being here anyway? Let’s just both get in there and look.’
Juliet was determined even though I was dithering, but really at this point there was nothing else we could do other than forget the whole idea.
‘Come on then,’ I said and we stepped into Leonard’s sitting room.