The Villa of Death: A Mystery Featuring Daphne du Maurier (Daphne du Maurier Mysteries) (30 page)

“You underestimate the man. He is foremost an inspector and on the side of the truth.”

“Sergeant Heath keeps coming back to see Nelly. It’s only a matter of time before he finds out. If Olivia forgot about the glass, she forgot other things. Once confronted, she’ll confess of her own volition. What is it, Tommy?”

He lifted a hand, deep in thought.

“Is it about the murder? Or the kidnapping?”

“It’s Teddy Grimshaw,” he said finally. “In asking the maid not to repeat the scene, he was doing more than protecting his daughter. He was protecting himself. He’s orchestrated this entire affair.”

“From the grave? What the devil do you mean?”

“I’ve been following the case for some time. This is all about big business and illegal trading. Teddy Grimshaw is guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“He’s a grand master and he knew how to play the game. He reaped millions from it but he made a few errors extending his empire over here.”

Taken aback, I stared at him. “Your engagement to Lady Lara suited you more than her. It put you close to Rutland, didn’t it?”

“Yes, and during that time I was able to steal into Rutland’s office. I found evidence of Jack Grimshaw selling information to the opposition.”

“You informed Dean Fairchild and put Jack Grimshaw in disgrace but what has this to do with Teddy Grimshaw? How is he guilty? He’s dead.”

“Fortuitously so. If he had lived, he would have paid the price for his trading practices and lost most if not all of his fortune. The government wanted his money. Grimshaw knew the only way to protect it was to die and leave it to his widow. He planned to die that day. He wanted it to look like murder. The investigation would take precedence over his fight with the government and preserve his fortune.”

“That’s why he didn’t involve the police with the first death threats. He sent them to himself.”

“Yes. He wanted the police there, ready to protect Ellen.”

“Because there was another aggressor, Salinghurst and Rutland.” I began to feel very ill. “I wonder if Lady Lara knows of her ailing father’s antics?”

“She knows a little. You were upset hearing reports of our being seen together in London. It was part of my job to stay with her, to prize whatever information she had concerning her father and his shares in the company Salinghurst. He’d invested heavily, you see, and wasn’t about to surrender his fortune to an ‘American buccaneer.’”

“Poor Teddy,” I whispered. “He was hemmed in by all quarters. He thought his dying would protect his fortune and his family. That day in the woods … and the poisoned chocolates. They were from Salinghurst?”

“Before Ellen sold the shares to Dean Fairchild, she was in danger. If they removed her, the shares would have reverted back to the company and in their control. Selling the shares saved Ellen’s life.”

“But our government wanted to use her as bait? Monitor their meetings and thereby placing her and Charlotte in danger?”

He shrugged. “Those were our orders. Sometimes you don’t agree with them but you obey. Why do you think I placed myself at Thornleigh straight after the funeral?”

“For our protection,” I answered. “And to try and seize the money.”

“No,” he corrected, running a finger down my face. “I came here for you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Walking back to Thornleigh hand in hand with the man I loved, I no longer needed to dread what could or might happen. A serene peace surrounded me, the security of being loved and loving in return.

In a daze, I returned to my room. Still tired from the journey, Tommy suggested I rest. I smiled to myself, curled up in bed with my stack of treasured letters. On the top, with a white ribbon, were his to me, everything written and preserved for all time.

After attempting sleep and having sleep desert me, I sorted out the letters, hunting for those I intended to read. Here it was … the account of Ellen’s mother’s death:

Dearest Daphne,

I have bad news to import. I can scarcely believe it myself. My mother is dead. It happened quickly … overnight. I admit I’m a little in shock. You were aware of the status of our relationship so forgive the apparent lack of grief on my part. Earlier in the day, she was in the garden and yelled at Charlotte for daring to pick roses. The poor girl only intended to pick them for sick “Grandmama” but that is my mother. She won’t allow anybody to do anything nice for her.

I paused here, resting the paper’s edge under my chin. Lady Gertrude. The name suited the cantankerous woman.

She had her dinner in her room as usual and like always, I checked in on her before I turned in. She was grizzly, complained of little sleep and a great headache. Since she was abed, she asked me to pass her her laudanum. Carefully measuring out the spoonful, she waved me off and I kissed her cheek. “Good night, Mama,” I said, never expecting they would be my last words to her.

Oh Daphne, I feel dreadful but I am actually relieved she is dead. I’d grown weary with the daily threats of disinheritance. And her going on and on about Xavier, her precious son. I miss Xav. He would have made a great master of Thornleigh. I don’t know how I’ll go as mistress of Thornleigh. Am I worthy of the title?

That was the end of the letter and I burned to know what my reply had been. I hoped I had imparted some comforting words. As for Lady Gertrude, I thought her better rested in the soil of Thornleigh than tormenting my poor friend’s life. I read on:

The funeral was today. Some of the looks I got! They think I’ve done it but I’m innocent, Daphne. She took an overdose. Perhaps in her angry mood she measured it out incorrectly? I can’t mourn her, is that horrid of me? She always loved Xavier first. Xavier this, Xavier that. If I’d had a son she might have been happier. A son for Thornleigh! A son and his name should be called Xavier. Poor Charlotte. She always asked me questions about her grandparents. She thought grandparents are nice. I haven’t yet told her she has another grandmother far across the seas in America. Now Mama is dead, there is no reason to keep up the pretense. I am a widow, I’ve put about, and yes, I am a widow at heart because I still love him, Daphne. I still love Teddy. Shall I ever see him again? Why has he not answered my letters?

Turning over that letter, I thought how far Ellen had come from those war days. I skipped two letters to another:

Sorry, I’ve been too busy to write! My hands, how awful they look. Gnarly. But I like working in the dirt. Our vegetables are a great success and it keeps us alive. Sadly, the house still remains closed. We live in a small part but I hope one day to open all those ghostly rooms again. I went to see the estate lawyers. They won’t allow me to sell any portion of the land or household fixtures but they have granted me a sum to help with the maintenance. It covers us and the small staff we have here and we are relatively happy … but I still dream of Teddy.

PS … Charlotte turned five today. She asked about her daddy. We said a little prayer together, hoping to see him again. It isn’t like him, Daphne, to not reply. Perhaps I’ve had the wrong address all this time?

No, you had the right address. Reading these letters, I felt immeasurably sad for Ellen. To love, to have lost, and to have loved again so briefly. Hunting for the letter where her exuberance almost transcended off the page, I found it at the bottom of the pile.

Daphne, you will never guess. Teddy is here! I’ve seen him. There was a clipping about him in the paper. He’s come over here for business but he says he really came to search for me. He knows about Charlotte. Daphne, he says he never got my letters. When I ran off from Boston, he was on the next ship. But the next ship was two years later because of the war. He had to wait and then when he came to London, the city was such a mess, everybody searching for their lost relatives, he couldn’t find me. He went to Thornleigh and got a very bad reception from my father. Funny, they never told me of his visit. I suppose at that time I was disinherited living in a little flat in London. Having an American lover show up was not the way to impress my parents. I wonder if they’d have reacted differently if he’d mentioned he was a millionaire? In any case, we are reunited and he says he loves me, has always loved me! We don’t know what happened to the letters but I have a good guess. Rosalie. She didn’t want her father to marry again, but it doesn’t matter. We’re making up for the lost years. Teddy is going to stay! He’s anxious to get to know me and Charlotte. How wonderful is life.

On the back of that letter, she added a postscript:

D, can’t finish the letter as I’m off to Paris! Teddy is taking us and Harry said he’d post this for me. Will write more soon, x E.

Slipping that letter back in its envelope, I collapsed onto the pillow with a sigh. Paris. I wanted to go to Paris. Some say you can live a lifetime in a few short months and Ellen certainly had. Beginning to feel sleepy with dreams of traveling with my fiancé, I turned over the envelope to place on the stack.

Icy fear gripped me when I saw it.

MISS D. DU MAURIER

CANNON HALL, CANNON PLACE

HAMPSTEAD

LONDON NW3

The same neat black capitals I’d seen elsewhere.

On the ransom note.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Leaving my room, I headed straight for the stairs.

A morbid quiet greeted me. Midafternoons in huge houses radiated mausoleum silence. Since my discovery, the quiet appeared deadly. Heart pounding and still clutching the envelope, I hurried to Major Browning’s room.

I knocked.

There was no answer.

I knocked again.

Still no answer.

Out of breath, I rested there a moment. Where could he have gone? After our walk, he had intimated enjoying a sojourn himself.

Pressing my ear against the door, I hoped for a snore or something. But there was nothing, nothing but that deathly quiet.

Ellen. I’d check her room and the morning room.

She wasn’t in her room, either. Noting the tousled bed, I assumed she’d lain down for a rest and restlessness had put her on her feet again. Slipping across to Charlotte’s room, I found Alicia sitting there in the rocking chair. “Have you seen Ellen? Do you know where she is?”

“No.” Alicia shook her head. “What’s wrong? Do we have news? News about Charlotte?”

“Maybe … where can I find her?”

“She stopped in here to get a photograph. I thought she’d gone back to her room.”

“No, she isn’t there. I’ll try the morning room.”

She’d risen to her feet. “Shall I come with you? Something
is
wrong, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I murmured. “It’s just important we find Ellen at once.”

The echo of our footsteps resounded throughout the expanse. I shivered at the sound. Sinister and foreboding, I tried to still the roar of my heart. I couldn’t get to Ellen quickly enough. I sensed evil at Thornleigh, it was here in the house, and I had to hurry …

“The door’s open,” Alicia remarked as we rounded the corner.

The long corridor loomed ahead. Light drifted from the morning room, casting its pale glow on the timber floor. A shadow emerged, and Alicia and I halted, lingering outside the door as Ellen and Harry talked inside.

“… give over the money and he’ll release Charlotte. I have his word.”

“Harry, I ought to ask the police—”

“No police. He’s very firm on it,” Harry responded.

Sighing, Ellen moved across the room back to her desk. Glancing at Alicia, I signaled for us to go forward, closer to the door.

“Why were you on the train, Harry? I thought you’d gone to see your mother.”

“Yes … lucky for you I changed my mind. A moment earlier, and I’d have missed them.”

Taking a deep breath, Ellen sat down. “I knew it was them, Jack and Rosalie. I knew it. Is Charlotte safe? How did she look? Did she see you?”

“Yes … she saw me. She is unharmed and you’ll have her in your arms by the end of this day, that is, if you play by the rules.”

“Oh, how I wish Teddy were here!” Tears spilling down her face, Ellen removed a key out of her pocket.

“You aren’t alone … you have me.”

Raising her tearstained face to Harry, Ellen clutched her hands together. “Shall I go with you? I want to make sure they release her first.”

“No. Let me deal with them. Stay here.”

Slipping into the first room before he exited, I put my finger to my lips. Following, if mildly surprised, Alicia waited until the footsteps faded down the hall.

“I’ll explain in a minute,” I whispered. “Come with me.”

Going into the morning room, we found Ellen loading a pistol on her desk. The firm set of her mouth intimated she intended to go after Harry.

“Don’t go. Let me get the major.”

Looking at the two of us, she smiled. “What do you want me to do? Just sit here and wait when my daughter is out there?”

I shut the door. “Listen for a moment. Charlotte is safe. She is safe because Harry has her.”

“What? No, Harry is going to get her—”

“Look at this.” Thrusting the envelope before her eyes, I took a deep breath. “You probably have never noticed Harry’s writing. This is a letter you wrote me where you asked Harry to post it for you. Does this look familiar?”

Sagging to her knees, Ellen shook her head. “It can’t be … why would Harry do such a thing? He loves Charlotte…”

“And he loves you, and above everything he loves Thornleigh.”

“Harry,” Alicia echoed under her breath. “Harry took Charlotte?”

“To return her to Ellen. To look the hero but his plan went awry.”

“No, it was the other way about. Harry was coming home. He saw
them.
They had her.”

“That’s what he’d like you to think. You’re forgetting he’s doing this for you and for Thornleigh. He wants to marry you, Ellen. I know … because one day I overheard.” I gulped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Alicia murmured. “You say Harry has her? He’s had her all this time?”