House of Scarabs Page 9

  Standing up, Ellie moved around the kitchen, preparing a tray of tea. She felt embarrassed by her outburst. "I'm sorry... it's just been..."

  "There's no need for that, my child. It'll be a sorry day when you can't take your salty tears to old Shannon. Now tell me what's happened. I was letting the dog out when I saw a police car draw away." Sitting down next to him, she poured them both a cup of strong tea and told him of the events of the previous few hours.

  “I don’t understand. The three of you are unscathed, yet the shop is just a burnt-out husk? How's that possible?"

  "The fire officers who found us said both the door at the bottom of the stairs and the one at the top were high-grade fire doors, and the tower's stone construction saved us from the worst of the fire's ravages. Other than mild smoke inhalation, we're all fine. Stefan was in the main part of the building and barricaded himself in the stockroom. The gas in the kitchen exploded and blew straight through the floor," she said with a catch in her voice. "He didn't stand a chance."

  "Oh, Ellie. It's a sad story, to be sure. How is the old gentleman taking it?"

  "He's not. I think it's too much for him to take in. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless. Ben is frozen. Shannon, the police are investigating it as a murder because both the fire system and the phones were disabled."

  "A murder… But you were all in the building, so who were they trying to kill?"

  "I guess that's something the police will try to find out. God knows who'd want to kill any of us," she replied, pushing the hair that had escaped her ponytail away from her eyes before taking a deep sip of her tea.

  "Come on, me darlin'. Let's go see what we can do for those poor fellows. Make a pot of industrial-strength tea, and I'll add a dash of my Islay malt. "

  They worked side by side, their steps choreographed by years of habit, in a comfortable silence. Ellie preceded Shannon into the drawing room, where both men sat, staring into space. Shannon eyed the pair speculatively and focused on Ben. Sitting next to him, he took out his aged silver hip flask and poured an ample measure into a heavy crystal glass, which he placed in Ben's hand before pouring himself a tot and raising his own glass.

  "Slainte. Here's tae Stefan. May God rest his auld soul."

  Ben's head snapped sideways to stare at Shannon.

  "Ah, come on now, man. We must toast his soul on its homeward journey. Only right, don't ya think?"

  Ben stared at him and then, inch by inch, raised his glass. "To Stefan."

  Shannon downed the whiskey, watching Gerhard over the rim of his glass.

  "Mr. Webber, I'm so sorry for your loss. I think it's a good night’s sleep you'll be needing now. Plenty of time to face your woes tomorrow. I've made you a nice hot chocolate. Drink it down for auld Shannon. That's right, down to the bottom. Good. Now I'll just take off your shoes and put your feet up on this cosy old sofa of Ellie's, and you snuggle down."

  Gerhard followed Shannon's instructions like a zombie, lost in an avalanche of shock, and was soon fast asleep on the sofa. Shannon covered him with a thick fleece and turned to Ellie.

  "He'll sleep for hours. I put one of my sleeping pills in his hot chocolate. It's sleep that he needs. Now come, Ben. We should leave Mr. Webber to his dreams and retire to the kitchen for more tea."

  The three of them chatted in the kitchen for an hour or more. Shannon effortlessly drew Ben out of himself and set the foundations for healing. Ellie wondered at his gentle skill in casting a warmth and security that eased everything in its path. He was a natural and gifted healer. Before leaving, he lifted her chin and looked deep into her eyes.

  "Your grandmother was always proud of you. I can't help thinking she's watching from heaven - God rest her soul – and glowing with pride over how you've handled yourself tonight."

  He bent and placed a whisper-soft kiss on her forehead and chucked her chin.

  "Now get some sleep, my Ellie bee."

  The Funeral

  The large hole, dark and chilly, called to Ben. He stood among the crowd, all dressed in black, clustered close against the bracing wind, gathered to say their final farewells. He should've been in that hole with Stefan. Not that there was much of Stefan there, but still, Ben felt he'd cheated destiny and was sure she would come and claim a high price for his lack of fidelity.

  Looking back, that night seemed such a blur, probably a self-protection device his brain had deployed to limit his stress. He remembered glancing down at Stefan's hand and then dropping it in shock when he realised that Stefan was no longer attached to it. He'd searched desperately for Stefan, but the hand was all that survived of the cheery cook.

  There was a vague recollection of Sobek re-appearing and guiding him to the burnt-out bookcase that fronted the door up into the tower. From there, he drew a blank until Shannon had toasted Stefan at Scarab's Rest. There was a Dali-esque surrealism of going from such awful memories to staring down on the gaily decorated coffin.

  Charlie had suggested that they forego the traditional floral displays in favour of something that better reflected Stefan's flamboyance. The “old dears” in the village had baked all week to create colourful cupcakes which now dressed the casket. He would have loved the edible patchwork of baked goods. It captured his essence perfectly.

  Ellie was concerned about Gerhard. He'd barely registered anything since the fire. He was incapable of acknowledging people's commiserations. So, she stood next to him, shaking the hands of Freshford's extended community on his behalf. She shook a lot of hands; there was a huge turnout for the funeral. That said more about Stefan than the gushing words of Reverend Wakefield.

  Charlie, dressed in a vibrant red coat with matching knee-length boots, came up to Ellie and whispered, "I've checked with Mum. The buffet is ready and laid out at the mill. Shall I tell her to expect the first mourners in twenty?"

  "Thanks. Yes, that sounds about right."

  Charlie leaned across Ellie and kissed Gerhard tenderly on the cheek. "You've done him proud. He'd have loved all this. Can I start the music now?"

  Gerhard nodded and patted her hand.

  An ABBA tribute band sang the opening notes of “I Have a Dream” as Gerhard threw a billowing cloud of white icing sugar onto the coffin. Ellie, Ben, and Charlie followed suit, and soon, the casket glistened. Ellie ushered everyone away to give Gerhard a moment alone to say his goodbyes.

  He stared down into the gaping hole, which echoed that in his chest. How could he walk away and leave his vibrant friend in this desolate place? A solitary tear trickled down his face and splashed onto the coffin, creating a dot of royal icing.

  Gerhard's lips lifted at the thought. "I've iced your coffin, my dear boy. Imagine that. Me doing icing." He stared into the distance. Stefan had brought colour back into his life after Sofia died. He was the first person to make him laugh again. "Sometimes, you need not share parents to be brothers. You taught me that, Stefan. I'll miss you, my friend."

  He turned and joined the others, who'd led the bemused elderly congregation across the graveyard to the waiting limousines.

  The peal of the phone broke Ellie free of her thoughts. She apologised to Mrs. Trollope, who had been waffling about the inconvenience of losing her granddaughter's christening cake in the fire. "I'm sorry. Do excuse me. I must get the phone."

  She rushed across the drawing room, dodging mourners, and went into her private study, more for a little peace than privacy.

  "Oh, hello there. I wish to talk to Elena Bendall-Gamal, if you please."

  "Hi, I'm Ellie Bendall. Who's speaking?"

  "Elena, it's Bertram, my dear. You know I can't abide shortened names. Why shorten your beautiful name? Elena has such a glorious ring to it. It's Greek, you know. Means 'shining light', and you've always been your old godpapa's shining light, so it's appropriate too."

  "Uncle Bertram! It's so lovely to hear from you."

  "Why, weren't you expecting my call? My assistant told me you'd asked me to phone you."

  "No
. I mean, yes, I was expecting you to call, but still, it's always wonderful to hear from you."

  "Ah, yes, I see what you mean. I don't have time to chitter-chatter. What do you want?"

  Used to her godfather’s rather direct manner, Ellie cut to the matter in hand. “Uncle Bertram, I have a student at the school who’s a dear friend of Sam’s…"

  Bertram interrupted her. "Yes, Sam. Wonderful boy. Don't think I didn't notice you’ve dropped his name. Elena, you were settled with a good man. Every woman needs a strong man to care for her. I worry about you on your own at your age. You need to go back to Sam, apologise, and beg him to take you back."

  "Uncle Bertram, please, let’s not go down that path again. I'm no longer married to him, and I won't be again. I am perfectly capable of caring for myself, as are all women, contrary to your archaic beliefs. Anyway, this friend of Sam's is going to Egypt on a prestigious fellowship, and he has to write a paper on an Egyptian artifact. So, he's chosen your Gayer-Anderson cat, and I was wondering if I could tie in a visit to you with an opportunity for Ben to have a close-up look at the cat. Could you organise that?"

  "Yes, of course. It would need to be next week as I am giving a lecture in Munich on Thursday. How about the following Wednesday? Could that work?"

  "That's brilliant. Would you like a little company in that rambling old mausoleum of yours?"

  "If by that, you mean can you and your companion stay with me, then by all means, yes. But take me as you find me, darling girl. I'm in the middle of a new book, so my research has taken over the house a tad."

  As Bertram's house was constantly overfull and chaotic, Ellie could only imagine the state it must be in for Bertram to have noticed its disorder.

  "That's great. Thank you. There will be three of us as I have a friend staying. You’ll love him. He’s an older gentleman.”

  “Hmm, sorry, what was that?"

  She'd lost Bertram's attention, so she said goodbye and put the phone down, circling the date on her desk diary. She gazed out the window at the fast-flowing river and wondered what would come next.

  London Bound

  Ellie closed the door behind the detective.

  "What did he want?" Charlie asked. "I'd have thought they'd spend more time investigating who killed Stefan than bothering the poor victims. Typical of modern police - anything for an easy life."

  "Have you finished? He was here on my invitation. I want to take Gerhard away for a change of scene, and I wanted to check that was okay and see what progress they'd made."

  "And what progress have they made? If any..."

  "Well, we're officially cleared of any involvement. They found that both the front and back doors were jammed from the outside. They've also found other people who experienced mobile network failure at the same time, so they suspect that they deployed a blocking device. It seems whoever did this was both sophisticated and determined. It required premeditation to have all the equipment to hand."

  "And..." Charlie prompted.

  "And they have no idea who it was or what their motivation was. They left nothing behind, and the charge used was widely available. Detective Enson's been really supportive, but I feel he's more worried about the case than he's letting on. He asked me to install security equipment here, and he seemed pleased that the three of us would be away for a while."

  Putting an arm around her boss's shoulder, Charlie walked them into the kitchen. She busied herself making tea and feeding crumpets into the antiquated toaster.

  "So, you're taking them away for a bit, are you?"

  "Yes. Well, to be fair to Ben, we need to move on with his lessons. I thought a visit to Uncle Bertram would be a good change of scenery for both him and Gerhard."

  "I should say!" Charlie scoffed. "Bertie's definitely a change of scene. Are they ready for him though?"

  "Ah, come on, Charlie. He's not that bad, and he's a great contact for Ben. Plus, I think Gerhard may light up a little when he gets an eyeful of the library."

  "Well, if you like misogynists, then Bertie's a doll. Christ, Ellie, he thinks women are for bedding and breeding. He told me that my husband needed to deploy a firm hand with me. A firm hand - I ask you!"

  Ellie acknowledged Charlie's point with a wry smile.

  "I'd love to see Dave try. He'd be hospitalised within seconds. No, honestly, he's just an old bachelor with no anchors to the modern world. He lives in ancient Egypt most of the time - at least in his mind. But he has a heart of gold. He's always been there for me."

  "Okay, well, I'll take your word for that. When are you off?"

  "Day after tomorrow. We might be away for a while. Stay home whilst we are away. I don't want to take any unnecessary risks. Consider it time off on full pay."

  "Well, okay, but you make certain you take care of yourself. Now stop sitting around in my kitchen, making a mess, and make yourself useful. Take this tray to the boys. Off with you..."

  "Is that all the bags, Ellie?" Ben asked, closing the boot of Gerhard's Volvo.

  "Yes. I'll just grab the hamper from the kitchen, and we are good to go."

  "Cool. Don't forget to set the alarm. Are you up for the drive, Gerhard, or would you rather I drive?"

  "I can drive as long as someone navigates for me," Gerhard replied, folding himself into the driver's seat and fastening his seatbelt. "Explain again where in London Professor Montague lives?" he asked Ellie as she settled herself in the backseat.

  "He has a house in Lansdowne Crescent. It's close to Portobello Road - where the antique market takes place.”

  They navigated the country lanes before joining the larger A303.

  “So, you know Bertram well?” Ben asked Ellie.

  “Yes, we’re very close. I used to love to stay with him when I was younger” she replied. “He’s quite a character. He echoes around a huge old place. It was his parents’, but he lives on his own these days. I have to warn you it's normally shambolic, dusty, and cold. Bertram's oblivious to anything that isn't three thousand years old, so he doesn't notice."

  "It's most generous of him to extend his hospitality. I dare say the dust will bother you far more than Ben or I," Gerhard responded quietly, adjusting his rear mirror.

  The journey seemed endless. Despite Ellie's best efforts, Gerhard wouldn't be drawn into any meaningful conversation, and Ben seemed content to watch the countryside flash by. Ellie gave up and instead issued navigational instructions when needed and spent most of the journey revisiting recent events.

  So much had happened. It felt like a picture that was shattered and blurred. They had the pieces but no idea how to put them together to create a clear and logical image. What had seemed an interesting puzzle had rapidly changed into a life-threatening quest.

  She'd kept the detective's fears away from Ben and Gerhard as much as possible, trying to give them time to overcome their grief and guilt, but she needed them to come back to her. She feared their lives depended on it.

  "This is some prime real estate, Ells," Ben said as he stretched his long arms and legs.

  "Gorgeous, isn't it? Although, the old place needs a lick of paint. Still, it's good to be back. It's home away from home."

  "Ellie, I was wondering if you could point me towards a good off-license. I'd like to get a gift for the professor. What's his favourite libation?"

  "Oh, don't worry. He’s flying home tonight, so we have time. Just wait till you see his library, Gerhard. It's magnificent." She grabbed her bags from the boot, whirled around, and bounded up the stairs with the keys dangling from her teeth. "Come on, you two. Hurry up."

  Ellie opened the door and stepped to one side to allow the guys into the spacious hallway. Ben whistled through his teeth as he walked in, glancing up the sweeping staircase adorned with family portraits to the galleried landing above. Dumping the bags on the black and white chequered marble tiles, he looked around appreciatively. Ellie picked up the post scattered across the floor and added them to the mountain of junk mail on the console tabl
e.

  "Welcome to Mandersley," she said. "I'll show you to your rooms and then give you the grand tour."

  Gerhard followed her up the stairs, studying the surroundings with more interest than he'd shown since the fire.

  "Are these ancestors of the professor?" he asked Ellie. "They all have an underlying resemblance to each other in the eyes."

  She stared up at the pictures as if she hadn't noticed them before. "Uh-huh. They’re grisly, aren’t they?"

  "It must be wonderful to be able to trace your family back so far, to know your heritage, ja?"

  "I haven't ever thought of it, really, but I guess so. I can trace mine back to 1086, when we set up Scarab’s Rest. Well, on my mother's side, anyway. Uncle Bertram's family owned the estate that this house was built on, although he descends from a younger son, so the family wealth didn't go down his line."

  "Um, it looks like they really suffered, poor things," Ben said with raised eyebrows.

  Laughing, Ellie replied, "This is poverty compared to the main line of the family, believe me. Still, Uncle Bertram's comfortably off – enough that he could follow his heart when choosing his profession rather than chasing a purse. This is your room, Gerhard," she said, flinging the door open into a large room with two huge shuttered windows.

  Ellie ran forward and opened the shutters, engulfing the room in weak afternoon light. The room was decorated with exquisitely painted Chinese silk wallpaper showing lush greenery, bright flowers, and swooping birds on a sunny yellow background. A canopied four-poster bed and vast, white marble fireplace dominated the room.

  "I'm afraid Uncle Bertram hasn't installed central heating, but the gas fire soon warms up the room. It's an antique, but it takes off the chill. Is this okay?" she asked Gerhard.

  "My dear, this is more than okay. It's superb. Time has stopped, no?"