Cherringham--The Gentleman Vanishes Read online

  Jack waited for the woman to move away — but instead, she climbed back up one step and reached into the train.

  “Wait — what’s she doing?” he said. Then he saw another figure appear at the carriage door — a woman, in a headscarf and woollen coat.

  “Ah — helping someone down onto the platform.”

  He watched as the woman in blue took the arm of the other, seemingly more feeble, woman — and the two of them walked away down the platform.

  The image of the two women somehow familiar to Jack, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.

  “Back to normal speed now,” said Sarah. “Keep your eyes on the two women — and tell me what you see, Jack?”

  Jack glanced at Sarah — she was smiling at him. Waiting.

  “Look at the hips. Look at the way they move …”

  “Dammit,” he said, sitting back down. Then a laugh: “That’s not two women.”

  “No, it isn’t,” said Sarah. “It’s a woman and, no doubt about it, a man dressed as a woman.”

  “Bernard Mandeville …” said Jack. “She got him to switch clothes in the tunnel.”

  “Yup. When the lights went out. Must have had the skirt and coat in those bags,” said Sarah. “Then threw Bernard’s clothes out of the compartment window while in the tunnel, and put the bags in her handbag.”

  “Damn clever,” said Jack. “But if it’s some kind of kidnapping … maybe she drugged him too? Keep him quiet? Make him compliant? So, where they hell are they going now? They must have a vehicle …”

  “Tim — you got the footage from car park camera?” said Sarah.

  “Right here!” said Tim.

  Jack looked up at the volunteer. He was already waiting — DVD in hand. They waited while the DVD loaded. Then Sarah flicked through the menu, brought up the camera and the time — and the screen filled with four views of the car park.

  “Bingo. There they are!” said Jack, pointing to one of the segments.

  He could see the Grisoni woman — if it was her — holding tight to Bernard, clearly not letting him slip away.

  “I don’t see a weapon,” he said. “Guessing, maybe … she’s threatened him, told him not to move, say anything. Otherwise—”

  “Into the car park,” said Sarah quickly, switching cameras.

  Jack watched this very odd kidnapping underway.

  Amazing they hadn’t noticed it when they viewed the CCTV the first time. But just like all the people on the platform that day — all they’d seen was two innocent female friends walking arm-in-arm. Not a female kidnapper and a male victim.

  “And there’s the car,” said Sarah.

  Jack watched as a small red car edged forward from its bay. Grisoni opened a back door, eased Bernard in — no struggle there. Shut the door, then ran around the other side and climbed in too.

  “If we’re lucky,” said Sarah, “we’ll get the plate.”

  Jack saw the car move across the car park, picking up speed. As it passed by the camera, Jack caught a glimpse of the driver.

  And recognised the car.

  “Um — we don’t need a plate,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know that car. And the driver.”

  He stood up and reached for his coat.

  “None other than the Mandevilles’ maid … Mary Seddon.”

  “You’re kidding me …?”

  “Nope. I think you just uncovered our kidnappers, Sarah,” he said, putting on his coat. “And I know just where to find them.”

  “Where?” said Sarah, getting up as well.

  “Barton,” he said, heading to the door, Sarah right behind him. “Remember? The Seddons have a house there. I don’t know the exact address — but I have no doubt you’ll find that out on the way.”

  16. The Plot Revealed

  Sarah drove slowly down the narrow lane, while Jack checked the house numbers against the map on her phone.

  “Okay,” he said. “Best slow down. Think it’s that little cottage, right up there on the left.”

  Sarah saw a muddy parking space next to the dry-stone wall that ran along the edge of the lane and pulled in.

  “Don’t want to drive past,” she said, turning the engine off. “I think we walk from here — no?”

  “Definitely.”

  She climbed out of the car and waited for Jack to walk around and join her.

  Together they surveyed the house, just fifty yards ahead. Sarah could see it better from here — a tiny stone cottage, standing alone in a copse of trees. In front, a bare lawn and a pathway to a wooden gate that opened onto the road.

  To one side, a drive and a small garage, and, parked in front of it, a red car. The red car.

  “Well — looks like Mary Seddon is home,” said Sarah.

  “Yep,” said Jack. “Question is — did they move Bernard somewhere else, or is he … in the house?”

  “Only one way to find out. But there’s not much cover.”

  Sarah could see that as soon as they approached the house they’d be visible both from the front window and the two rooms upstairs.

  “Right. Think we cut through the field at the side,” said Jack, nodding towards a bare ploughed field that butted up against the trees at the back of the house.

  “And then?”

  He shrugged: “Make it up as we go along, hmm?”

  “The usual, then,” said Sarah, smiling. “Come on.”

  And she crossed the road and slipped through a gap in the dry-stone wall into the field.

  *

  Ten minutes later, they stood on the edge of the copse of trees, looking straight into the cottage, no more than ten yards away.

  Jack could see Mary Seddon working at a stove in the kitchen. But no movement in the other rooms at the back.

  “Look. There’s a door at the side,” said Sarah. “See it?”

  He nodded. “Wait for her to turn — then we go for it — yes?”

  He saw Sarah take a breath, getting ready. They waited as Mary came to the sink under the window, stood for a few seconds, then returned to the stove.

  “Now,” said Jack.

  Together they sprinted, bent double past the window to the side of the house, then pressed themselves flat against the wall.

  “What if it’s — I dunno — a whole gang? Whoever was helping them?” said Sarah. “And — I mean, kidnapping — what if they’re armed?”

  “Hey, come on,” said Jack. “They’re probably not even here any more.”

  “Yeah, very reassuring,” said Sarah. Then with a nod from him, he saw her reach up to the door and slowly, carefully, turn the handle.

  He whispered: “Wait. Don’t you think maybe I should—”

  “Ladies first,” she said, quietly pushing open the door and entering the cottage. No tell-tale squeaks as it swung open. “I think speed and surprise are the key here, don’t you?”

  “Love surprises,” said Jack, following fast.

  Inside, he took in the layout. To the right, a corridor led into the kitchen. Ahead was another short corridor with a closed door to the left — must be the main room, he thought, Sarah already ahead of him.

  He heard voices — a man and a woman’s.

  But Sarah was already at the door, pushing it open …

  Jack rushed behind her, ready to meet whatever might be thrown at them: fists, knives — maybe even a gun, who knew? Adrenaline flowing, scanning the room fast for threats.

  Not expecting to see …

  … a train layout on a big table. And, standing holding the miniature locomotive’s controller, the mystery woman from the train; while an older man — Bernard Mandeville for sure — stood at her side, one arm round her waist, the other hand on hers on the controller, helping her.

  Both of them caught half-laughing, half-shocked, staring at their surprise visitors …

  … playing with the model train set, watching a little train — steam puffing — rattle round a curve and disappear into a t
unnel …

  Jack, feeling himself now moving in slow-motion, looked at Sarah, who seemed even more surprised than him.

  Then Bernard Mandeville beamed at them: “I say,” he said. “Are you joining us for lunch? I’m not sure Mary’s made quite enough soup if you are!”

  “Oh, I think there’ll be enough,” came a voice from behind them. Jack turned — to see a stern-faced Mary Seddon carrying a tray of food. “Though I can’t say you two are at all welcome.”

  “B-but we’ve come to rescue Bernard,” said Sarah.

  “Rescue? Me?” said Bernard. “Ha! What a wonderful idea! But I have to say — you’re too late, you see! I’ve already been rescued.”

  Then he turned to the mysterious Signora Grisoni and gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek.

  “Isn’t that right, darling?”

  “It is, mio caro,” said the woman.

  And Jack saw her return the kiss, the two of them looking like young lovers together.

  “Tell you what,” said Jack, scratching his head, tension evaporating as confusion took its place.

  What was going on here?

  “Why don’t you serve that soup, Mary, and we’ll all sit down together while you folks explain just what the hell’s going on?”

  “What a marvellous idea,” said Bernard, beaming. “I do love a good story!”

  “Me too,” said Jack, turning to Mary. “In this case I think I know the ending. But I’d sure like to hear the beginning …”

  *

  “You know, Jack,” said Sarah, “you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. About the case and all.”

  “Then why do I think that you had things coming together … way before me?” He laughed. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

  Jack dropped down a gear in the Austin-Healey Sprite and checked his speed.

  Even with the top up, the wind was whistling through the interior of the little sports car. He glanced across at Sarah, knowing she was enjoying this little conversation.

  “You put the puzzle together pretty fast … in the end.”

  “Really?” he said. “All I could still think was kidnapping! Missed the real deal completely. While you … spotting that clothes switch with Bernard … impressive.”

  “Why, thank you. But as soon as Mary and Sofia started to explain what happened, I think you pieced the whole thing together quite admirably.”

  “If you say so, partner. Though I’m thinking … you maybe had an idea something else could be happening, even when you saw the CCTV, hmm?”

  “Could be,” she said. “I wasn’t actually sure … so I kept quiet.”

  “Good work, anyway — kidnapping or not!”

  “Yeah — I have to say — we did all right in the end.”

  They sat in silence for a minute, then:

  “By the way — I can’t wait to see what’s changed since we were there last. Must be nearly a month …”

  “Since we cracked the famous ‘Mandeville Kidnapping’, hmm?”

  “We solved it,” said Sarah. “The disappearance. And also … a real crime.”

  “Just not the one we thought.”

  “Yes. Those two sisters and the dreadful Theo would have destroyed Bernard in the end. And we stopped them in time, Jack. Made them face the music.”

  “True fact,” said Jack. “And we did get to take one great train ride!”

  But that still didn’t stop him feeling he had been slow getting the case right.

  Then he looked across at Sarah, her face bright — animated — and couldn’t help but shrug.

  “Hey — know what? You’re right. And in the end, you were totally on top of the case.”

  “With your training, of course. Remember? Question everything.”

  “Not a bad rule.”

  “We can’t blame ourselves for not seeing through the sisters’ plans first time we met them.”

  “Oh, they were good all right. Along with Theo, the three of them manipulated not just Bernard and Dr Finch — but me and you too.”

  “You think they would have got away with it?”

  “Nothing to stop them,” said Jack. “Given the crazy diet they had Bernard on — not to mention whatever unnecessary medications — no wonder he was getting weaker by the day.”

  “Poor old chap. Dr Finch told me he finally got Bernard’s blood tested — and he’d never seen a worse case of anaemia. Course it didn’t help that Bernard believed all that amyotrophic sclerosis nonsense.”

  “Doubt he would have lasted more than a few more months,” said Jack, “and then Mandeville Towers — and the twenty million — would have been all theirs.”

  “A post-mortem would have revealed nothing.”

  “Nothing to reveal — just a phony diagnosis from a phony doctor.”

  “Course, the one thing they didn’t reckon with was old flame Sofia Grisoni turning up out of the blue and seeing through their little plan.”

  “If she hadn’t persevered,” said Jack, “and made contact with Mary — I doubt Bernard would be alive today.”

  “And if Bernard hadn’t had a good old friend in Archie Reynolds — ready to kill the lights on the train at just the right moment!”

  “That was quite a plot,” said Jack. “And — you got to say — they pulled it off like pros.”

  Up ahead he saw the turning for Mandeville Towers.

  He slowed, then pulled off the road and stopped at the gate — the security monitor right by the driver’s window.

  “You going to press the button?”

  “And wake the snarky Seddon? Guess so …”

  He reached out to the monitor, pressed.

  “Aha! Mr Brennan! Ms Edwards!” came Seddon’s voice from the speaker. “Welcome to Mandeville Towers! Drive on up, please!”

  The old butler sounded positively jovial.

  Jack turned to Sarah — who looked as surprised as he felt. The gates ahead opened wide, and he put the car into gear and drove on through.

  *

  “Such a pleasure to see you both again in these so very altered circumstances,” said Seddon as he showed Jack and Sarah into the grand hall and closed the great front door behind them.

  “Do follow me, please,” he said, setting off down the corridor. “Mr Mandeville and Signora Grisoni are in the drawing room.”

  They walked behind him. As they reached the double doors, Sarah saw him pause.

  “Sir, Madam — I wonder if I might say something? Had I known when you first came here, that you and the step-children were not ‘in cahoots’ …”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” said Jack.

  “Anyway — had I known — I’m sure you understand, I would have acted completely differently.”

  “That’s quite all right, Mr Seddon,” said Sarah. “They hired us to find Mr Mandeville and bring him back — so it was natural for you to assume we were on their team.”

  “You’re very understanding, Ms Edwards.”

  “Tell me,” said Sarah. “What’s happened to Lucinda and Eve — and Theo — since Mr Mandeville returned?”

  “The police came and interviewed them — as you suggested.”

  “And were they charged?”

  “Sadly, no. Mr Mandeville refused to press charges. Although I believe the doctor in London is facing some kind of malpractice trial. However, the step-children moved out of the house, somewhat voluntarily — I did press them — within a few days, and now live in a very, very small house in Didcot.”

  “Goodbye to bad rubbish,” said Sarah.

  “I couldn’t possibly comment, madam,” said Seddon, opening the doors and gesturing them in.

  Sarah stepped into the room as Sofia and Bernard rose as one from the sofa by the fire and came over to greet them.

  “Jack! Sarah!” said Bernard. “What a pleasure! So glad you could come over!”

  *

  After Jack and Sarah had been served tea, they listened to Bernard and Sofia reminiscing about how they had f
irst met and fallen in love — on Bernard’s 1972 InterRail tour of Italy — then lost touch, then found each other again.

  And after they had moved on to gin and tonics, then “a little light supper” with champagne, then brandies …

  Bernard invited Jack up to the attic.

  “Got something to show you, Jack. Think you’ll like it,” said Bernard leading the way up the big staircase, taking two steps at a time.

  Jack followed, marvelling at Bernard’s appetite and recovery.

  Up at the top of the house, Bernard opened the door to the attic room and turned on the light.

  Jack took in the train layout.

  “Aha!” he said. “You’ve got all your locomotives back.”

  “Every last one,” said Bernard. “When Seddon and I organised the ‘Great Escape’ — I asked him to deliver them to the cottage, just in case. I gather you spotted them missing? Bit of a train man yourself, hmm?”

  “Used to have a layout as a kid back in Brooklyn. Long, long ago, mind.”

  “Thought so,” said Bernard. “Which is why — well, looking for a thank you — I came up with an idea. Thought you might like it.”

  Jack saw him nod to the table.

  “Go on. You’re the detective, Jack …”

  Jack smiled, intrigued. Then he turned his gaze back to the layout. Ran his eye over it. The tunnel. The hills. The big sidings for freight. Cherringham Bridge. The river …

  And then he saw it and crouched down to look at it close to.

  A line of barges and houseboats, perfectly modelled. Little lights inside them — on the river bank itself, tiny gardens, upturned rowing boats, ramshackle sheds, perfectly copied.

  And in the line, his boat, The Grey Goose herself.

  Decks all clean and tidy. A table out on the deck — and a tiny tray with martini glasses and a shaker.

  “That’s amazing,” said Jack.

  “Any time you want to come over — spend an hour or two on the layout — you’ll always be very welcome.”

  “Thank you, Bernard.”

  He looked up at Bernard, his face shiny and smiling.

  “No. Thank you, Jack. You and Sarah. Thank you for helping get my life back on the rails! Now — time for one more nightcap!”

  And Jack followed the suddenly spry man down the stairs, thinking two things. How glad he was to have helped this sweet man get his house and fortune back.