Part Seven
She Said
“I’m sure that if Mr. Englefield was the one who wanted to harm me, he’d just trust the curse to do it,” Trixie decided with a nod. “He wouldn’t be messing around with all this elaborate stuff. Anyway, it must have been someone young and strong who set the trap we fell into. Someone who had access to his keys to this house.”
“What are you thinking?” Jim asked. His hand gently stroked her arm in a comforting motion. “You’re starting to fix on a suspect?”
“Not exactly. I’m almost sure it’s someone on his staff, though. If I could get out of here,” she muttered, in frustration, “I could check.”
“Someone will find us,” Jim assured her, in soft, calm tones. “Just be patient.”
Trixie nodded, but continued to feel the need to fidget. “I still don’t get what Mr. Englefield is so bothered about with his sister,” she admitted, changing the subject in an effort to keep her mind off their captivity. “It’s all so long ago. It must be more than sixty years!”
“More than sixty-six,” Jim answered, after a moment’s thought. “That’s a long time to hold a grudge. It’s no wonder he’s become so twisted by it.”
Something about his words struck a chord in Trixie’s brain. “Are you sure?” she asked, ignoring the second part of his statement. “That must be the answer!” She bounced upwards, bumping her head on a nearby crate, but barely even noticing the pain. “He practically told me that was what it was and I didn’t even notice!”
“What are you talking about?” Jim asked, with a great display of patience. “What is the answer?”
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before,” she replied. “Last December, Moms and Dad went down to Florida to celebrate Dad’s father’s older brother’s birthday – his sixty-fifth birthday, I’m pretty sure. And, if he was sixty-five last year, he’ll be sixty-six later this year, but if my great-grandfather lost his first wife sixty-six years ago, that must have been some scandal!” She thumped a fist against her thigh. “But how will I find out for sure? I can’t exactly ask my great-grandparents – they’re both about ninety, and neither of them is in good health.”
“Don’t you think that scandal has had its day?” Jim questioned gently. “Leave it to rest, Trix. You’ve got enough of that answer already.”
“Do I?” She sighed. “I’m not so sure. I still don’t know whether Mr. Englefield’s accusation was true. What if my great-grandfather was only coming to the rescue of a girl in trouble? He mightn’t have cheated on Dulcie; it probably wouldn’t have been all that respectful of her memory to remarry so quickly, but if she was pregnant to someone else…”
Sighing once more, she settled as comfortably as possible into Jim’s arms and tucked her head under his chin. “Do you think that’s plausible?” she asked him. “I mean, would you do that sort of thing?”
For a long moment, he was silent. “Under certain circumstances,” he conceded. “I guess, if I’d asked you to marry me and you’d said no, I might have married someone else. Then, if events played the same way, I might have acted in the way you’re supposing your great-grandfather might have.”
Trixie was frowning. “Wouldn’t that have been during World War II?” she wondered, trying to remember exact dates. “There was a photo of my grandfather with a man in army uniform, and another with those two, plus my great-grandmother and Dulcie Englefield. What if the man in the uniform was the baby’s father and he was killed in action?”
“Which baby?” Jim asked, confused.
Her mouth open to respond, Trixie halted. “Oh, woe! How will I ever sort this out? Now I have two conflicting theories at once.” Slumping her head against her knees, she expounded in rather a muffled voice, “Either my great-grandfather married Dulcie because she was carrying his friend’s baby and after she died he married my great-grandmother and they had a baby right away, or Dulcie got pregnant right away, but died, and he married my great-grandmother because she was carrying his friend’s baby.”
Jim was silent for a long time. “If you put it in those terms,” he told her, “it seems quite plausible either way. If the Bob-Whites were that age in that time, I think we might have taken the same sort of action.”
An image sprang into Trixie’s head of herself, Honey and Diana, dressed in the manner of the women she had seen in the photographs, crying because one of their boyfriends had been killed and knowing that she would have to marry another to make their child legitimate. She shivered and tried to push the thought away.
“I’ll call Dad when we get out,” she decided. “Hopefully, he’ll know which it was.”
He Said
Circling the block, Brian soon located the car Jim and Trixie had taken to the house and he pulled in behind it. The group bundled out and were ready to rush headlong towards their destination before Brian called them back.
“Hold on a minute,” he asked. “Let’s just quietly check things out first. Mart, you go ahead and take a look at the place, okay?”
With a nod, his brother did as suggested, returning a few minutes later with the news. “The gates are locked,” he reported. “There’s no sign of anyone around near the house. No lights. Nothing.”
“How are we going to get in?” asked Di. “I’m not climbing a fence with barbed wire across the top!”
Brian thought for a moment. “Maybe there’s another way. Let’s follow the perimeter and see if anything turns up.”
They made their way around to the corner of the high fence and crept into the garden of the house next door. Luck was with them – the neighbour did not have a dog. There had been no break in the fence by the time they reached the corner. Climbing carefully, they crossed the back fence of that house and continued to follow.
“Stop,” Brian directed. “What’s this?”
The small gate stood open, its padlock hanging from the latch. With a few glances around to see whether they had been seen, the group started through.
“What do you think you are doing?” an angry voice demanded.
She Said
A noise overhead caused Trixie’s body to stiffen in fright. It sounded like a door being opened. Moments later, shuffling footsteps approached.
“Mr. Englefield!” she whispered into Jim’s ear.
As the steps came nearer and nearer they quickened. His cry of outrage was clearly audible to the listeners below. “Mother’s sideboard! Oh, no, no! This is terrible.”
“I don’t think he did this, then,” Jim decided, with a hint of a smile in his voice. “Should we yell for help?”
“Mr. Englefield?” Trixie called loudly. “Can you hear me?”
There was another shuffling sound from above. “Young lady, if you have damaged this piece of furniture in any way, I will have something to say about it!”
Trixie rolled her eyes, even though no one could see the action. “I didn’t mean any harm, sir. Someone had tampered with the floorboards. Can you help us get out?”
“No, but I will get help,” he promised and shuffled away.
The wait for help to arrive seemed even more frustrating to Trixie now than it had when there was no help in sight. She fidgeted in the darkness for what seemed an eternity before hearing the door open once more and heavy, though tentative, footsteps approach. Voices called to them and they answered. A few minutes later, scraping sounds were heard above, followed by a long and eerie creak.
Light poured into the hidey-hole from behind a pile of old packing cases. Strong arms moved them aside and soon Jim and Trixie were being encouraged to climb into the room above. Trixie held back, embarrassed about her state of undress. Jim came to her rescue with an explanation.
“Have you got something for Trixie to cover up in?” he asked. “There were some kind of fumes leaking in and we plugged the gaps with our clothing.”
One of the police officers leaned forward and sniffed. His expression became grim. “Call the fire department and the scene of crime people,” he directed, “and get this woman a blanket or something. I want this building clear in two minutes!”
He Said
“Trixie!” Brian called, seeing his sister being escorted to one of the waiting police cars. Reaching her at a run, he asked, “Are you okay?”
“I guess,” she replied. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare shirt or two, would you? We had a little trouble with a gas leak or something.”
Her eyes were trying to tell him something, but Brian could not quite decipher it. He quickly undid the buttons of his shirt and shed it, revealing a plain white T-shirt beneath. “Here, take this,” he offered, holding the blanket for her to slip it on.
While she was still struggling with the buttons, Honey joined them. “Oh! Trix!” she cried. “I was so worried. What happened?”
“Can we go now, please ma’am?” the accompanying police officer asked.
Trixie rolled her eyes with her back to the woman. “I’ll be right there. I’m okay, Hon, really. There was a gas leak, but we managed to plug it up.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Uncle John’s birthday. Do the math!” Turning to the officer with a bright but fake smile, Trixie announced that she was ready to leave.
As he stood and watched them go, Brian noted that Dan had given Jim his shirt to wear while being interviewed by the police and was currently flexing his muscles for Di’s admiration. The remaining five regrouped outside the perimeter fence to discuss their next move.
“What do we want to do?” Brian asked the others, when they were all together. “Should we head back to the cottage, or do we want to stay near here and see what happens?”
Honey raised her chin in defiance, surprising Brian. “We’ve got an investigation to conduct,” she announced. “We can’t just go back and wait and wonder. First, we need somewhere we can talk because I’ve got some clues.”
“I think I saw an all-night diner a little way back,” Mart suggested. “We could get something to eat.”
Di laughed, breaking some of the tension. “Sounds fine to me. Honey?”
Seeing that they had general agreement, Brian ushered the group back to the car. A little searching revealed a spare shirt for Dan and there seemed no impediment to carrying out the plan. They arrived at the diner a short time later, filed inside and found a table in the corner. They were a fidgety group as they placed their orders and waited to be alone.
“So here’s what we’ve got,” Honey explained at the first opportunity. “Trixie said that there was a gas leak, but I just know that it wasn’t an accidental one from the way she said it. She also mentioned Uncle somebody’s birthday and told us to do the math. What was his name, Brian?”
“Uncle John,” he replied. “He had his sixty-fifth birthday last December.”
Mart groaned loudly. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? I thought he was sixty… though, now I come to think of it, that doesn’t add up, either.” Turning to the others he explained, “Uncle John is Dad’s father’s older brother. If he was sixty-five last December and Dulcie died sixty-six years ago in… March, was it?”
“April,” Brian corrected.
“So, my great-grandfather’s first wife dies in April and his second wife has a baby in December of the same year.” Mart ran a hand through his hair. “Trixie’s right. That’s got to be what the whole curse thing is about.”
“And it means I was wrong about why Dulcie died,” Brian mused. “She wasn’t the one Dad was talking about, it was my great-grandmother. That must be why Mr. Englefield thought his sister was heart-broken; he thought she knew she’d been cheated on, when in fact nothing of the kind had occurred.”
The drinks they had ordered arrived just then, along with a snack for Mart. The conversation stalled as they waited once more for the waitress to leave.
Mart tapped the table with his finger and took a long sip of his vanilla milkshake. “What about the gas leak? What was she trying to tell us?”
“That it was deliberate? But why would someone make a gas leak on purpose?” Di asked with creased brow.
Honey drew a breath between her teeth. “The curse!” she whispered. “If Dulcie didn’t die of a broken heart, then there isn’t really a curse, but now since Trixie, who was supposedly cursed by this non-existent curse, has gotten into a situation where she might have passed out and died and it’s from a supposed gas leak that wasn’t accidental, then it means that someone meant for her to be a victim of the curse on purpose, knowing that there wasn’t really a curse at all!”
There was a long silence as the other four digested this statement and sipped their drinks. Mart reached the bottom of his milkshake with a slurp.
“And why would someone do that?” he asked, finally.
His girlfriend gave a shrug. “Why does anyone do anything to Trixie?”
Brian frowned as he thought of all of the other people who had thought to do something to Trixie. “Granted,” he answered, “but I think it might help in this instance to be a little more specific. What else do we know about this case?”
“Someone was watching us,” Di supplied. “A man with very short hair, receding hairline, a big green tattoo on his left arm and, usually, very dirty clothes.”
Mart winced. “He’s probably the one who’s been dropping all the clues for Trixie to find. If we accept Honey’s theory, someone deliberately led her to the house and my guess would be the tattooed man.”
“You know,” Honey mused, setting her empty glass down carefully, “that might just be our big break.”
“Why do you say that?” Brian asked.
“Because he’s watching us right now,” Honey informed them. “I can see him reflected in the window.”
Four heads turned to look at the watcher. The man was startled, jumping up and heading for the door. Mart, Dan and Honey immediately made chase, closely followed by Di. Brian paused a minute to leave a tip for the waitress before joining them. He found Di waiting next to the car.
“They went that way!” she called as he neared.
As quickly as he could, Brian unlocked the vehicle and climbed inside. He craned his neck to pull out, while Di kept a watch in the direction indicated for any sign of their friends. They had not gone far before they saw Dan waving to them violently. Brian pulled over and their friend jumped inside.
“He cut across the yards here,” he explained. “Take that corner and we’ll try to catch up.”
Brian complied, moving off the instant the door was closed. They rounded a second corner and caught sight of the fugitive, running for the opposite side of the street. He disappeared between two houses, with Honey and Mart in hot pursuit. It seemed to take an age to round the next block. There did not appear to be any side streets leading in that direction, so the trio held little hope of catching up once more.
When they finally found their way to the other side of the block, it was to see Honey and Mart standing by the side of the road. Brian stopped the car beside them and his brother leaned down to speak to them through the window.
“He started acting strange, so we pretended that we’d lost him and hid in the shadows to see what he did. He went inside here,” he explained, pointing over his shoulder to the rear loading dock of a row of businesses. “Someone inside let him in that door and shut it before we could catch up.”
Honey squeezed in beside her boyfriend and Brian could see the excitement in her eyes. “Just look at the sign, though! It doesn’t matter that we lost him because now we know almost everything.”
The pair moved aside so the others could see. Brian stared. The sign read, ‘Englefield and Barker. Deliveries.’
She Said
“What now?” Trixie wondered, as she and Jim left the police station. They had made their statements and had been allowed to leave. Luckily, Mr. Englefield had declined to press charges for trespassing.
“We walk back to the car, I guess,” Jim answered.
They set off down the street, in the direction that Jim decided was closest to the right one. They had not gone far before they spotted a familiar vehicle, which it suddenly became apparent was filled with an excited group of their friends.
“Trixie! Jim!” a shrill female voice called.
Trixie broke into a run. She reached the others quickly, skidding to a stop beside the car as they gestured to something behind her.
“Oh, Trix!” Honey exclaimed in a funny, gaspy voice. “We saw the tattoo-man, only he saw that we saw him, so we chased him and he went into the back of this store and just look at the name of it!”
Slowly, Trixie turned to contemplate the store behind her. Understanding dawned as she read the name: Englefield and Barker, Jewellers, established 1922. From its neat signage to the shiny glass of its windows, it seemed clean and restrained. She walked over to peer inside.
“There doesn’t seem to be anyone here now,” she concluded. She shifted back and forth, trying to see past the empty display cases. “It seems strange, though, that someone could be inside at night. Shouldn’t there be an alarm system or something?”
“You’re right,” Honey agreed with a shiver. “Maybe we should call the police?”
Trixie nodded. Honey pulled out her cell phone and punched in the number.
“They’re on their way,” she told the others a few moments later. “They suggested we should move away from here. He might be dangerous.”
Trixie and Jim continued their walk towards the car, while the others drove in the same direction. The couple was still within sight of the store when the police arrived on the scene. Mr. Englefield must still have been at the police station as well, for he arrived at the same time. His cry of outrage was clearly audible.
“No alarm, then, I guess,” Trixie noted. She frowned. “It’s strange, though, that something would be happening here on the same night as we got trapped in the house. I wonder… was this part of the original plan, or is it a contingency because we were rescued?”
Slipping almost out of sight around the nearest corner and pulling Jim with her, Trixie settled to wait. A short time later, her patience was rewarded. The police led out two hand-cuffed suspects: one a thin man, his thinning hair clipped very short and a tattoo visible on his left arm; the other relatively young, of solid build, with thick, dark hair and a sullen expression.
“It was Richard Frawley!” the second man yelled, angrily. “He set this whole thing up. I only did it ’cause he blackmailed me into it. He’s been bleeding the business dry for years and he can’t get away with it any longer.”
“Shut it, will you?” the man with the tattoo told him, roughly.
“I tell you, it was Richard Frawley!” the other man repeated, before being inserted into the waiting police car.
Lucius Englefield was left standing by the side of the road, watching the car drive away as other police officers bustled about. Taking a chance, Trixie emerged from her hiding place and approached him. When she was only a few paces behind him, he turned to face her, a lost expression on his aged face.
“I trusted that man with everything I have,” he murmured, almost to himself. “If Richard is truly behind this, who have I left to trust?”
“Excuse me, sir,” Trixie asked, stepping a little closer, “but who is Richard Frawley?”
The elderly man seemed to truly notice her for the first time. “He is the chief jeweller I employ,” he explained, in his usual soft tones. “You see, my father was a jeweller and he established this business with a partner. I was never inclined toward following in his footsteps. I had a career of my own, which I thoroughly enjoyed and have never regretted. My father was still a young man when he passed away. Our family retained ownership of the business and a jeweller was employed. In the fullness of time, the whole business became our family’s. Now, since all of my siblings have passed on, it is solely mine.”
Curiosity was burning inside Trixie, but she restrained herself to one simple question. “Is there something missing from the store?”
His whole frame seemed to sag. “Almost everything,” he whispered. “There is enough stock to make the window displays, but there is nothing else. They did not find anything on those two scoundrels of gardeners they caught here and it seems that they were engaged in faking evidence of a break-in. I cannot think of any other solution than the one given. Richard must be behind this.”
“I’m sorry,” Trixie told him, tears shining in her eyes. For a moment, she considered telling him her theory on his sister’s death, but decided that he had enough grief for one day. “What will you do now?”
A hidden strength appeared in that fragile body. “I shall return to the police station,” he announced, with a steely hint to his tone, “and assist them as much as I can. When this is over, I shall sell the remains of the business, as I should have done many years ago. I have other things with which to occupy my time.”
A sudden impulse took Trixie. “Sell the old house, too,” she urged. “I think the curse is broken now.”
“Perhaps I shall,” the old man agreed.
He Said
“Here she is,” Mart announced impatiently. For the past ten minutes, he had been advocating a plan to go and search for the missing pair. In his opinion, they had been gone for too long. “Where have you been, Trixie? We’ve been waiting for about an hour.”
“Don’t exaggerate,” she muttered, on her way past him. “It wasn’t that long.”
“What happened?” Honey demanded. She hurried to keep up with her friend as Trixie strode past the group. “Did you see the police arrive?”
In a few words, Trixie related the things she had seen and her conversation with Lucius Englefield. Her revelations were met with a thoughtful silence. “I guess that’s it, then,” she concluded. “The case is over.”
“Excuse me pointing this out,” Dan interjected, with a hint of a smile in his voice, “but this whole thing makes no sense. I didn’t think cases could be over until you’d explained what happened and why.”
Trixie nodded. “You need me to spell it out? Okay, then. What would have happened if the plan had worked out and Jim and I had been gassed in the house? Mr. Englefield was the sole owner of the business. Mr. Englefield was the owner of the house. Mr. Englefield was the one who’d been going on about a curse for the last however-many decades. Mr. Englefield was the one who’d effectively been stalking me for the last five years – even if I didn’t know it at the time.”
“Mr. Englefield would be lucky not to be committed!” Di noted with a shudder.
“And with him out of the way – either by being committed or being charged with murder – Richard Frawley would have had the chance to get away with his embezzlement.” She sighed. “Some people are just so terribly unlucky! I feel so sorry for Mr. Englefield.”
“He cursed you,” Jim pointed out, indignantly.
She shrugged. “If I’d had as tragic a life as he’s had, I’d feel like cursing people, too.” She reached out and touched his arm. “It’s not as if he did much damage.”
Mart watched the pair closely, seeing a look pass between them that he did not understand. Something about the way that Jim responded to Trixie’s words set off alarm bells in Mart’s brain, but he could not have said why. Making a careful mental note, he resolved to consider the matter later.
Continue to the epilogue.
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