The Wild Wood Enquiry (17 page)

At this point, struck dumb by what confronted him, Gus Halfhide walked around the corner of the house.

Ulph sank beneath the water, but Deirdre waved a hand. “Hi, Gus!” she yelled. “Come on in. The water’s fine!”

“I THOUGHT YOU were having supper with Miriam?” Deirdre said meekly. She had managed to persuade Gus to stay, asking him to wait in the house. Then she ordered Ulph out of the pool to dress and get going as soon as possible. She had grabbed a bathrobe and made strong coffee in the kitchen before joining Gus and taking a seat opposite him in what was always Bert’s chair. Perhaps his spirit would stand by her in her hour of need.

Gus looked across at her. He had felt a bit of a heel, ringing Miriam to duck out of her beef sirloin, especially when she was pleasant and understanding. And now here was wicked Deirdre, reminding him of a small girl who has been found stealing sweets. He had a strong urge to laugh at her antics but didn’t, deciding that she should be punished for such wantonness. “I don’t understand, Deirdre,” he said. “Who was that man, and why were you…” His voice tailed off as a sudden vision of the pair of them splashing about like a couple of porpoises was too much for him. He spluttered and then burst into roars of uncontrolled mirth.

“Oh, Deirdre,” he said finally, “if you could have seen yourselves!”

Deirdre frowned. She expected disapproval but was not prepared for mockery.

“It was just a bit of fun,” she said defensively. “That man had a bad leg, and…”

At this, Gus became helpless with laughter once more. “Oh, don’t explain,” he gasped. “No need to explain.”

Deirdre sniffed. “Here, drink your coffee,” she said.
“Personally, I don’t see what’s so funny. Surely what I do in my own back garden is entirely a private affair. Anyway, what do you want?”

“A four-course meal was what was on offer from my neighbour,” said Gus. “But a couple of eggs and bacon will do. I nipped up here just to check one or two things before tomorrow. But if you’re up to it now, we could discuss Sebastian Ulph. It was him, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was, and I don’t intend to have anything more to do with him. If he turns up here again, I shall threaten him with the police.”

“Don’t do that. You can always set the bull terrier on him. Anyway, we need to keep him in our sights, and I have certainly not finished with him yet.”

EARLY NEXT MORNING, as planned, Gus took the train to Scotland, and it was much more pleasant than he had been expecting. The train was swift and comfortable, and he had a snack lunch in the restaurant car. He read the
Times
from cover to cover, and after changing trains in Edinburgh he settled down for a light snooze.

He was woken by the train slowing almost to a stop, and then crawling along at a snail’s pace. He looked out of the window but could see nothing but a landscape of fertile fields and the occasional farmhouse. Then, with a whooshing roar, a train passed going south, and in that instant he thought he saw the familiar face of his ex-wife, Katherine.

There was no chance of a second look, and he told himself he had imagined it. After all, he was only half-awake, and the train had gone by at speed. How could he possibly have been right? No, she was on his mind, and it played its usual tricks on him. After their divorce, he had seen her
face a dozen times a day, walking down streets, sitting on park benches, in office lifts and at his door every time he opened it. He thought those days had gone for good, and now he was convinced that there had been no real Kath. He felt unaccountably sad.

When the train finally reached Aberdeen, he stood up and found his legs reluctant to work after sitting for so long. Maybe he should have walked up and down the train more often. Wasn’t there a risk of thrombosis? He must remember on the return journey.

He checked in at the small lodging house and asked where he could get a bus in the morning that would take him past Granfield Hall. His landlady was helpful and suggested he take a picnic lunch, as the weather was so fine.

It was still broad daylight, and he decided to have a walk around the streets, aiming for nowhere in particular, until he found somewhere to eat, and then return for an early night. He had a great deal to do in the morning.

KATHERINE HALFHIDE WAS bored. She was bored with people who had too much money and too little to say that interested her. Her host had been one of her beaux in their young, dizzy days of parties in London and stately homes in the country, but now he was a solid, respectable citizen with a position of responsibility for his estate and household. His ruddy face told of tramping around moors and imbibing large glasses of whisky, and his girth was steadily widening.

The other guests were stalking some unfortunate animal out in the wind and rain, and she sat alone by a log fire smouldering in the draughty drawing room, wondering what to do next. Her dear old dog, which she had come to collect, had been parked out for quite a while with her host but had died, and he had carelessly forgotten to tell her. It was difficult to believe she had left the south in warm sun, and yet here inside the baronial house it was cold and dank.
Increasingly, she thought of Gus. At least he had had tales of adventure and a ready wit that had kept her amused.

Perhaps she had been hasty in leaving Barrington, but her reason for going there had come to nothing. She had recently confided to a close friend her suspicion that Ulph had stolen her jewellery. Predictably, she had received a frivolous reply, suggesting that he had probably buried it in the deep, dark woods, where nobody would find it and where he could collect it at his leisure. It had been too much like a nursery story to be taken seriously at the time.

But later she had brooded on the likelihood of this. It seemed as good a theory as any other, and she remembered Ulph’s connection with the Roussels at Barrington, where Gus had holed up. Information from her social network told her that Ulph had been seen playing in a dance band in and around the town of Oakbridge, and she had decided to start with Barrington woods, confident that she could persuade Gus to put her up for a night or two. As to the search, surely freshly turned earth would be easy enough to find? It was worth a try, but she had succeeded only in losing from her pocket her one remaining pair of earrings as she grubbed around in the undergrowth and brambles. She had quickly given up.

But then, the more she thought of it, the more she became convinced that her ex-lover
was
the culprit. In their friendlier days, he had been in and out of the flat and her bedroom several times a week. He had seen her dress for smart occasions and must have noted where she kept her jewellery box.

And, rashly, she had given him a key to the flat.

When they split up, she had asked him to return it but could not now remember if he had handed it back to her. She sank lower into her chair and closed her eyes. What a
muddle! So what should she do now? Stay put, Kath, and wait for a while. She had a comfortable billet here in Scotland—well, fairly comfortable—and here she could plan her next attempt at retrieving her property. Perhaps a wider search in those tangled woods?

She felt a little guilty about deceiving Miriam Blake into thinking she was still resting in her comfortable bed, but no doubt a humble apology would be kindly received.

GUS HAD WOKEN early and decided the best thing he could do for the job in hand would be to hire a motorbike. He hadn’t ridden one since he had careened, Buchan-like, around the roads of Slovenia, mostly on the wrong side of the road. He had no idea where to go, but his landlady had suggested McDougall’s Car Hire, just around the corner. She had never heard of hiring motorbikes from there but knew the proprietor had one of his own and thought it worthwhile for Gus to enquire.

“Enquiring is what I’m good at!” he had replied jovially, and set off in a good mood. Unfortunately this was soon dashed by the receptionist at McDougall’s saying they had no motorbikes for hire, only cars.

But then the boss appeared. “A biker, are you, sir? If you are an experienced rider, then I could lend you my own bike and some gear. Have to charge you, of course. Just in case of damage.”

Gus agreed and paid up. The minute he mounted the bike, he felt a different man. Something about having a powerful beast beneath you, he said to himself, and proceeded noisily out of town and on the road towards Granfield Hall. He had precise directions from Mr. McDougall, and when the sun finally came out from behind heavy clouds, his spirits rose.

The Granfield estate was around thirty miles from Aberdeen, and the bike roared along at a satisfactory speed. It seemed no time at all before Gus slowed down outside the big wrought-iron gates of the Hall. A large brown dog with unfriendly eyes looked at him and barked fiercely. A woman appeared from the small lodge house by the gates and said something, which he could not hear. He switched off the bike’s engine and asked her politely what she had said.

“Can I help you?” she replied shortly. Black leather–clad bikers were obviously not welcome at the Hall, and Gus thought too late that maybe he should have turned up in tweeds and brogues. He took off his helmet and smiled charmingly at her.

“Do forgive me for disturbing you,” he said. “I am looking for Granfield Hall and wonder if you could direct me?”

“This is it,” said the woman. “What do you want? There’s a tradesmen’s entrance about half a mile farther on.”

Put firmly in his place, Gus thanked her and said he would go along and find it. But she still seemed deeply suspicious.

“What’s your business, anyway?” she asked.

“It is rather personal,” he said. “But I assure you I am not about to commit burglary at the ancestral home. Lovely morning now, isn’t it? And thank you for your help.”

He started the bike and rode off in an undignified wobble. Half a mile farther on, the unfriendly woman had said. He went slowly, looking for the tradesmen’s entrance, and in due course he saw an unmarked lane leading off to the right. He took it, hoping this would lead him to the Hall and to his elusive ex-wife, Katherine.

BACK IN BARRINGTON, the sun shone in a cloudless sky, and Ivy found herself wishing for at least a thunderstorm.
“Too much sunshine can be bad for you, Roy,” she had said last evening, when he had insisted on sitting outside in the twilight.

“But it is beautifully cool now, beloved,” he had said. “The strength of the sun has gone, and there’s a lovely sunset over there, beyond the woods.”

There had indeed been a spectacular sunset, and Ivy had said that unfortunately a red sky at night meant shepherd’s delight, and it would be yet another boiling hot day tomorrow.

She was right, and now she and Roy lingered in the cool dining room, speculating about what Gus might be doing, whether he would find Katherine, and if so, what he was plotting to do with her.

“Best be off upstairs before we go to Tawny Wings,” Ivy said. “I always say coffee goes straight through, missing out all the usual routes. I’ll meet you in reception in half an hour. That should give us plenty of time. It’ll be a funny sort of meeting without Augustus, though.” She stood up, kissed Roy lightly on the top of his head, and walked slowly out of the dining room.

Deirdre was also thinking about Gus. She had had a disturbed night, with the most ridiculous dream. She woke early with a feeling of relief, only to fall asleep again and continue the same stupid dream. She had conjured up Ulph and in her sleep had faced him with a challenge. He was to agree to a duel with Gus, weapons being tennis racquets and decided by a fight to the death. Both had agreed, and she had stipulated the duel must be poolside in her garden. Before a grisly conclusion could be reached, she had woken up once more, terrified, and certain that Ulph had cheated, knocking Gus into the water with a hefty clout from his tennis racquet. Gus had sunk to the bottom and not resurfaced.

It was with the gloom of the dream still hanging around her that she drove into Thornwell for her early hair appointment but with the certain hope of flattery and personal attention.

“Ah, there you are, Mrs. Bloxham! And how are we this fine morning?”

Deirdre relaxed. She smiled and agreed to a new hair colour, which cost a small fortune. Things were certainly looking up. When she had got rid of Ivy and Roy, she planned to ring Theo’s mobile and see when he planned to return. He was bound to be jolly after a break from the cares of his estate, and he might very well have something more to tell her about the mysterious Ulph.