‘I’ll do it,’ said Charlotte quickly. ‘I’ll sit with her.’

  Gordon had already rung the servants’ bell, and a few moments later Dunsworth appeared.

  ‘We need to move my stepmother,’ said Gordon. ‘Do we own a stretcher?’

  ‘No, sir. Not so far as I know.’

  ‘We can improvise one,’ said Ellie. ‘We need two long poles and a blanket. I’ll show you how to fold it.’

  Dunsworth nodded. ‘Right you are, madam. I think I know what you intend. I’ve seen it done in the trenches.’

  ‘Good man,’ said Gordon.

  A few minutes later, Ellie showed Gordon and Dunsworth how to fold the blanket over the two poles to form a makeshift stretcher, and Marianne was carried upstairs, followed by a visibly distressed Charlotte.

  ‘Nothing to be done now till the quack can get here in the morning,’ said Malcolm. ‘Important to keep up morale, what? I declare cocktail hour.’

  Ellie, Skins and Dunn, though, made their excuses and set off to their rooms, promising to return later for dinner.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tuesday, 30 June 1925

  Skins drank too much at what they’d all assumed would be their final dinner together at the house, and had slept badly. It had been a sombre evening, and although the food was as delicious as ever he had felt gloomy and uncomfortable, and had tucked away quite a bit more wine than he’d intended.

  As always when he’d been drinking, he woke early, feeling more weary from the lack of decent sleep than groggy from the booze. Ellie was still fast asleep, so he pulled on his clothes as quietly as he could and set off downstairs.

  Despite having servants at home, it still made him uncomfortable to summon someone just to make him a cup of tea. It was different if it was for the whole family, or for guests, but if it was just him, he’d honestly rather make it himself.

  He ventured cautiously down into the kitchens. Although the household had been patient with the band’s carefree wanderings, he was well aware that it was most definitely frowned upon for house guests to go roaming about in the servants’ domain.

  Lily was alone at the stove.

  ‘Morning, Lily,’ he said with a grin. ‘Any tea in the pot?’

  The young kitchen maid blushed.

  ‘Good mornin’, sir. You should have rung. We’d have brought you one up.’

  ‘I know, but it seems a shame to put you out when all I want is a cuppa. All right if I help myself?’

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  Skins found himself a cup and saucer and poured out the strong dark brew from the heavy teapot.

  ‘Is there news of Mrs Bilverton?’ he asked. ‘Marianne?’

  ‘No, sir. Last I heard she was still abed with Mrs Bilverton by her side keepin’ watch. Guilt, I reckon.’

  ‘Guilt?’

  ‘Over what she done. You know . . . Mr John.’

  ‘Ah, yes. Right.’

  Lily fell silent, but was fidgeting about, looking for all the world as though she was wrestling with a weighty dilemma.

  ‘You all right there, love?’ said Skins.

  She blushed again. ‘I am, sir. It’s just . . . Can I have your autograph? I’ve been wantin’ to ask but Mr Dunsworth told us we wasn’t to bother you. I’ve got a book, see? My auntie give it me. I collect autographs from famous people. I’ve got a load from the music hall, and from a pantomime we all went to see last Christmas. But I love jazz. I stood outside the marquee while you were playin’ the other night. You’re wonderful. Would you?’

  Skins smiled. ‘Of course.’

  He expected her to scurry off and fetch the book, but she just reached into the pocket of her neatly pressed uniform.

  ‘I’ve been carryin’ it about in case I met any of you.’

  She handed him the book and he drew a pen from his jacket pocket. He signed it, ‘To Lily, the jazz lover,’ and drew a cartoon drum set beside his name before handing it back.

  ‘We’ve been playing in the chapel,’ he said. ‘You should have come over.’

  ‘I wanted to come over on Saturday, but we weren’t allowed. The whole family went over and I thought we were going to get our chance, but Mr Dunsworth said no. I thought I was going to get a chance to meet someone when one of you came down here in the afternoon but I couldn’t get away from my peelin’.’

  ‘One of us came over?’

  ‘On Saturday before Miss Elizabeth and Miss Veronica came down for the picnic. I didn’t see who it was. They just went in the larder and then disappeared before I could nab them. Then we heard the terrible news about Mr Bilverton and I never got another chance. When you all came down and mucked about with the chicken, I didn’t have my book. And anyway, Mrs Radway would have skinned me if I’d been cheeky and asked for autographs.’

  ‘But it was definitely one of us? Not the staff?’

  ‘They went in the larder, so it had to be a guest or family. They goes where they likes, see, even when they’re not supposed to, but none of the other staff is allowed in there. Only kitchen maids allowed in the larder. Mrs Radway—’

  ‘—would skin them, yes. Well, I don’t know which of us it was, but I wish you’d said hello.’

  Lily blushed. ‘I wish I had, too. Do you think I’ll be able to get the rest of the band to sign?’

  ‘I’ll send them over myself. I’d take the book, but it’s more fun to be there when they sign, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is, sir. Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Well, I’ll not hold you up any longer – I’ll go and find somewhere to sit.’

  ‘I recommend the library.’

  ‘Library it is, then. Hang on to that autograph book – I’ll be sending the Dizzies down as soon as they’re up.’

  He set off back upstairs.

  He’d never been much of a reader, but something about books – especially large collections of books – fascinated him, so he was more than happy to follow Lily’s suggestion.

  Selecting a book at random from a shelf beside the fireplace, he settled into one of the armchairs, took a sip of his tea and began to read.

  His choice was not a good one. The author, it seemed, had spent some time on a walking tour of the Alps, and was keen to share a detailed account of absolutely everything he saw along the way. No wayside flower was too insignificant to be intricately described, no passer-by too unremarkable to be remarked upon at length. After reading eight pages in which the author catalogued the contents of his own knapsack, Skins decided that he might be better off with something altogether less thorough.

  He put the book back where he had found it and scanned the shelf for a more appealing title. Nothing caught his eye, but it did occur to him that the bookshelves had obviously been built by the same carpenter who had built the ones in the study. They were made of the same wood. They had the same proportions, the same polished finish and even, he noticed, the same downward lip on the leading edge of each shelf. He frowned.

  On a whim, he ran his fingers along the lip of one of the waist-high shelves to the left of the fireplace. He found nothing.

  He tried the lower one, as he had in the study. Still nothing.

  Feeling slightly foolish, he repeated the process on the shelves to the right of the fireplace. On the lower shelf, he found a familiar imperfection. He pressed hard, and with a resonant clonk, the bookcase swung inwards an inch.

  ‘Well, I’ll be buggered,’ he said.

  He pushed the bookcase to reveal a familiar set of stone steps, though this time going to the right instead of left. He was about to flick on the light switch and set off to see where the stairs led when he heard footsteps and voices in the Grand Hall – it sounded like Gordon and Charlotte. Now, he decided, was not the time to get caught snooping about, most especially not if this turned out to have anything to do with John’s death.

  He pulled the bookcase closed as quietly as he could and resumed his seat. The voices disappeared, presumably to the dining room.

  A few minutes later, Gordon poked his head round the door.

  ‘Morning, Skins,’ he said. ‘Just seeing if there’s anyone about.’

  ‘Just me at the moment. Is there any news about Marianne?’

  Gordon shook his head sadly. ‘Still out cold, I’m afraid. Charlotte has been taking care of her but there’s been no improvement.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be all right. I’ve seen blokes recover from worse.’

  ‘I do hope so. I say, is it worth getting the staff to bring up some breakfast yet, do you think? I know you musicians are late risers.’

  ‘Usually, yes, but the band will be down soon, I reckon. Give it half an hour and people should start turning up.’

  ‘Marvellous. I’ll have a word with the kitchens. Be nice to give you a good start to your last day here.’

  ‘Last day, eh? You still reckon the roads will be clear?’

  ‘They seem sure of it in the village. I’ve told the doctor what’s happened and he’s going to try to get here at nine. We’ll know what the going’s like then.’

  ‘Then I look forward to a hearty breakfast with my comrades before we pack our gear and move out. It’ll be like being back in the army.’

  ‘But without anyone shooting at you, what?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Skins with a slight frown, ‘that’s always a bonus.’

  ‘Marvellous. I’ll tell Mrs R to get cracking. Say an hour?’

  ‘I’ll let people know once they start coming down.’

  ‘Good man. Toodle-oo.’

  Gordon disappeared once more.

  As soon as he was sure Gordon had gone down to the kitchen, Skins double-checked that the bookcase was closed and then ran up to the second floor as fast as he was able. He pelted to his bedroom where he found Ellie awake, but still lying in bed.

  She smiled up at him. ‘You need to take more exercise, honey. You’re puffed.’

  ‘I . . . ran . . . from . . . the . . . library,’ he panted.

  ‘Chased by the ghost of Bilverton House, huh?’

  ‘No . . . I—’

  ‘Hey, do you think they have a ghost? I’ve always wanted to stay in a haunted house. England’s supposed to be full of them, but I’ve never been to one. Do you think—’

  ‘Ellie . . . love?’

  ‘Yes, honey?’

  Skins was getting his breath back. ‘Shut up a sec, there’s a poppet.’

  ‘Shutting up now, dear.’

  ‘I’ve found another secret door.’

  Ellie sat up abruptly. ‘In the library?’

  ‘Yup. It’s in the bookcase, just like in the study. Same sort of mechanism, same sort of doorway, same sort of stairs.’

  ‘Same room full of French pornography at the bottom?’

  ‘I didn’t get that far. I was about to have a nosy when I heard Gordon and Charlotte outside, so I closed it up quick. If we’re going down there, I reckon we need a lookout up top. It was all right in the study – most of the family don’t seem to want to go in there – but they’re in and out of the library all day.’

  ‘It’s a thoroughfare, that’s why. You have to go through either the library or the dining room to get from the hall to the back door.’

  ‘Exactly. So we can’t go poking around with the bookcase open, or someone’s going to see.’

  ‘We can just shut the door behind us.’

  ‘And what happens when we open it to get out and Killer Gordon is standing there looking for a book on shooting?’

  ‘When who’s doing what?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. I’m coming round to the idea of it being him. Something he said to me just now. We were talking about breakfast and I said eating with all my mates before shipping out would be just like being back in the army and he said, “But without anyone shooting at you.” I mean, no one mentioned shooting. He’s got it on the brain.’

  ‘You did mention the army, though, honey. That’s kind of its raison d’être, wouldn’t you say? Shooting at people? It’s not an entirely peculiar thing to say.’

  ‘Yeah, well. I wasn’t sure it was him yesterday, but now I’ve seen there’s another secret door, and found out he’s obsessed with shooting at people, I agree with you and Barty now. You thought it was him when we were at the chapel.’

  ‘Hold on there, cowboy, we don’t even know where the stairs go yet. Yesterday you were lukewarm on the idea of Gordon as the killer, but today you’ve got him tried and hanged just because you’ve found some hidden stairs in the library. Let’s at least have a rummage about down there first.’

  There was a knock on the door.

  ‘Are you decent?’ It was Dunn.

  ‘As long as you’ll not be embarrassed that I’m still in my nightdress,’ called Ellie.

  ‘Only, the last I heard was you suggesting he have a rummage about down there.’

  Ellie laughed. ‘Come on in, you dope.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Dunn as he opened the door and found a fully dressed Skins leaning against a chaise longue while Ellie sat in bed. ‘That’s not nearly so exciting as I imagined.’

  ‘We’re married, mate,’ said Skins. ‘It never is.’

  ‘Hey,’ said Ellie, throwing one of her pillows at him.

  ‘You can see why I’ve always been so reluctant to get hitched,’ said Dunn.

  ‘Hey,’ said Ellie again, but thought better of throwing her remaining pillow.

  ‘So what’s going on?’ asked Dunn. ‘I heard someone running.’

  ‘That was me,’ said Skins. ‘There’s been a whatsaname. A development.’

  Skins recounted the events of the morning so far while Dunn made himself comfortable in an armchair.

  ‘So how did none of them know the door was there?’ asked Dunn, when Skins had finished.

  ‘Same way none of them knew about the one in the study,’ said Skins. ‘The buttons are well hidden. But John knew, and I’m betting at least one of the others knows.’

  Ellie nodded. ‘And I was saying that before we get too carried away, we need to explore it to find out what’s down there.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Dunn. ‘That explains what I heard from outside. I thought—’

  ‘We know what you thought, mate,’ said Skins. ‘Oh, and I nearly forgot. I spoke to Lily while I was getting myself a cuppa.’

  ‘Lily?’ said Dunn.

  ‘That pretty kitchen maid. Oh, I said I’d get everyone to sign her autograph book, by the way. Anyway, she said she saw someone go into the larder on Saturday afternoon.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Ellie.

  ‘She didn’t see. But adds fuel to the idea that someone was over here from the chapel.’

  Dunn nodded. ‘It does. No doubt getting the ice. So what are we doing sitting here?’

  Ellie sat up a little straighter in bed. ‘Well, I’m still in my nightdress, for one, and Ivor is counselling caution.’

  ‘You? Caution?’

  ‘I can be circumspect when the situation calls for it,’ said Skins. ‘We just need a lookout so no one catches us poking about. I was thinking Veronica would be just the girl.’

  ‘Then let’s go and get her.’

  ‘After breakfast, I think,’ said Ellie. ‘Ivor’s right – we need to make sure no one’s about. There’ll be a ton of coming and going until everyone’s had their breakfast.’

  ‘Then let’s go to breakfast.’

  ‘Can I at least get dressed first?’

  ‘Course you can.’

  ‘With you not in the room?’

  ‘Oh. Yes. Right. Sorry.’

  ‘Come on, idiot,’ said Skins. ‘Let’s leave the poor woman in peace. See you down there, Ells-Bells.’

  Skins and Dunn left Ellie to get dressed and set off for the dining room.

  Breakfast was cheerfully chaotic, with the end-of-term feeling even stronger than the day before. Many of the Dizzies had already started packing and all were talking excitedly about leaving at last. Even Mickey, who was actually dreading the nauseating journey in the motor coach, couldn’t suppress his pleasure at the prospect of returning to his normal life.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he said between mouthfuls of kedgeree, ‘I’ve enjoyed our time here, but I can’t wait to get home.’

  ‘Well, we’ve appreciated your company,’ said Howard, raising his teacup. ‘You’ve all made a difficult time a good deal more bearable.’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ said Gordon.

  Skins, Ellie and Dunn, meanwhile, had managed to get Veronica on her own and were describing their plan.

  ‘Oh, how exciting,’ she said. ‘Another hidden passage, and in my favourite room. I’ll keep cave for you as long as I get to have a nosy afterwards.’

  ‘It’s your gaff,’ said Skins. ‘It would be rude to keep you out. All you have to do is make sure no one knows we’re down there. As soon as we’ve worked out what’s what, we’ll cover for you and you can have a look for yourself.’

  ‘But we think it’s best that no one else knows the door even exists for now,’ said Ellie.

  ‘You can rely on Ronnie B. When are we off?’

  ‘After this lot has dispersed a bit,’ said Dunn. ‘Give us a chance to get in and out without anyone wondering where we’ve got to.’

  ‘I can hardly wait,’ said Veronica. ‘It’s just like—’

  All conversation stopped suddenly at the clangingly unfamiliar sound of the doorbell.

  Gordon stood up. ‘That will be Dr Hurlston. Malcolm? Howard? We ought to see him together, I think.’

  Malcolm nodded and stood, but Howard looked round at his sisters.

  ‘What about the girls?’ he said. ‘Shouldn’t they come, too?’

  ‘Don’t be an ass, Howard. We’ll be taking him out to the ice house.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘It’s no place for the ladies. Now, are you coming or not?’

  With an apologetic shrug, Howard joined his brother and uncle as they went to greet the family physician.

  The mood was broken and breakfast was completed in near silence. As soon as the remaining family members finished their food, they left, and the band began to go their separate ways, too.