In stark contrast to the appearance of the building, inside was warm and cosy. Dark wooden panelling had been polished to a high shine inside the grand sitting room. The scattered furniture that was old and well worn, but still comfortable. A fire roared heartily in the grate and bathed the room in warmth that immediately removed their unease about the place. Within seconds of taking a seat, Mark felt himself begin to relax. His ease was emphasised by the loud rumble of his stomach as he breathed in the delicious scent of freshly baked cakes that hung in the air.
“I am sorry for calling by unannounced but I was talking to Fred Dinage, the village constable, about your grandfather’s fob watch. I take it that you think that the watch was stolen from your grandfather’s body while he was at Bentwhistle’s Funeral Directors.”
“Yes, I don’t think that it was stolen. I know it was stolen, sir,” Helena’s voice was calm, yet firm. There was something too intuitive in the gaze she levelled on him so steadily.
“When did you last see the watch?”
“It was when Alan Bentwhistle and his men took my grandfather’s body out of the house. I didn’t think to ask for it to be taken off him at the time because I was so upset. Afterward, when my grandfather had gone, I realised he still had his watch on him.”
“You know with certainty that he was wearing it that day?”
“Yes, at breakfast he took it out and looked at it before he said he had to go to an appointment at the solicitors. By the time he got to the front room he felt poorly, so I sat him down in front of the fire. I don’t know what happened but, within about an hour, he passed away. I was upset and sent for the Doctor, who said it was his heart.” Helena’s voice was sad but calm. “I know he has passed on to the other realm, but I miss having him here to talk to.”
“Passed on to the other realm?” Mark asked with a frown. Good Lord, don’t tell me this is someone else who believes in the ridiculous notion of spirits? Mark cursed ruefully and watched with a sinking feeling when Helena glared at him defiantly.
“Heaven, Detective Inspector. My grandfather went to heaven.”
Mark made no attempt to raise issue with her declaration. She could think what she liked; it was of no concern to him, as long as she was clear about the facts about her grandfather’s fob watch.
“Can you provide us with a drawing of the watch?”
Helena rose and handed him a neatly folded piece of paper that rested on the mantle. Mark glanced at the perfect drawing of a fob-watch, with its chain, before he handed it to Isaac.
“I take it that you have searched the house?”
“From top to bottom, on more than one occasion, but it isn’t here. I know that grandfather was wearing it when Mr Bentwhistle took him to the funeral parlour.” Helena sighed and resumed her seat. “I think you should know that I have reason to understand that Bentwhistle Funeral Directors is in serious financial trouble.”
“How so?” Mark shared a look with Isaac.
“My father owns a timber yard in Yorkshire, which supplies the funeral trade with wood for coffins. One of his associates has mentioned that there is a funeral directors who has a sizeable account outstanding and isn’t forthcoming with the funds to make payment. Rumour has it that he is in serious financial difficulty. It’s Mr Bentwhistle.”
“Have you heard any gossip in the village about it?”
Helena smiled wryly. “I am afraid that I am not really in the gossiping circles, Detective. I am more one of the people who are gossiped about on account of who I am.”
“Who is that then?” Mark asked curiously.
Helena didn’t answer, merely lifted her tea cup and took a sip. Seconds ticked by before she slowly replaced her cup on the table before her. “I have been told to tell you that your deceit will get you rich rewards, but you have to be careful that it doesn’t trip you up in the long term.”
“Pardon?” Mark frowned at her and knew instinctively what she referred to. His thoughts immediately turned to his use of the séance to declare that Harriett was his wife. He had every intention of reaping the reward of that particular piece of subterfuge. Unfortunately, there was also the issue of Babette’s secret journeys out at night, which he hadn’t mentioned to Harriett yet, mainly because he didn’t know if he was looking for ghosts where there were none.
“You need to be honest with those around you and resolve matters before they come to a head and put blocks into your pathway that shouldn’t be there. I can assure you, with certainty, that you will get what you want and there will be a wedding on 20th December of this year.”
Mark felt his blood run cold. He couldn’t break his gaze away from her even though her words made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“Your grandmother passed away at the end of May, and used to love tea and Battenberg cake. She is bringing that to you now to bring the sweetness back into your life. You have worked long and hard at your job, but she wants you to ease back a little and enjoy some of the softness life can offer you. I also have a Hugo Montague here. He is very distressed and anxious. He is glad that the lady next door is looking after his cat. He knows she will do a good job of it but he keeps muttering about the vase. The clue is in the vase. He wants you to find it for him. It isn’t where it should be and he begs you to look for the vase. He is giving you a ball of string but it isn’t a neatly wound up ball of string, it is a tangled mess.” Helena frowned off into the distance as though she could see something nobody else could. “He is showing me an image of a green vase and he is winding the string around it. I can only assume that if you find the vase you will unravel the tangled mess.”
Mark ran over her words and was flummoxed. He struggled to find a reasonable and sensible explanation for what she had told him, while an image of the vase in Hugo’s sitting room window hovered in the dark corners of his mind. The pretty green vase had captured the sunlight and been striking, even to him. He turned his attention to the woman seated next to him and studied her carefully. Where was she getting this information from? Was she involved in the murders? Why? What link did she have to the Psychic Circle?
“It is a tangled mess at the moment, I don’t mind admitting to you, but we will get to the bottom of it. It is what we do.” He didn’t know what else to say. Until he had the time to analyze what she had told him, and consider how she could get hold of such information, he couldn’t really form an opinion.
“The charlatans you have amongst you at the Psychic Circle will be unable to provide the facts and the figures of people’s personal details, officer. I suggest that if you want evidence, you should start to pin the so called ‘clairvoyants’ down a little on smaller details that only your nearest and dearest in the higher spiritual realm can provide you with, like personal preferences, dates of death, that kind of thing. The lack of answers from those who are masked will unveil the rogues.”
Isaac scribbled furiously in an attempt to get as much of her revelations down as he could. He was as stunned as he was horrified, but intrigued by the entire thing.
“I don’t have anything else for you, Detective Inspector.”
“Have your friends in the higher spiritual realm not told you where to find the fob watch?” Mark half-joked, and was stalled by the direct stare Helena gave him.