Amanda Cadabra and The Hidden Depths by Holly Bell (good book recommendations TXT) 📗

or did you attend his offices?’ enquired the inspector.

‘The former.’

‘Could anyone have seen him enter or leave or overhear your conversation?’

‘I was circumspect, naturally, but it is possible,’ conceded Mrs Cadabra.

‘May I have his name? And where exactly were his offices?’

‘Does it matter? It’s not like you could conduct an interview or alibi anyone at this late date.’ He gathered, rightly, that Mrs Cadabra was not going to identify her agent, and went on to his next question.

‘It is possible that a Flamgoyne or one of their … staff could have overheard, or listened into, your conversation that day?’

‘Well … the room could have been bugged, I suppose.’

Trelawney tapped a finger on the arm of his chair, as he thought.

‘There is one person who may have information about Flamgoyne presence in the town that day.’

‘You mean?’

‘Pasco … Flamgoyne.’

‘The family retainer?’ Mrs Cadabra looked surprised. ‘Good heavens. Is he still alive?’

‘He’s the estate manager, actually. Yes.’

‘Would he talk to you?’ she asked sceptically.

‘Perhaps. There is one person he would talk to. The person who is now head of the Flamgoyne family since th—’

‘Dear Amanda wiped them out single-handedly,’ Mrs Cadabra interrupted gleefully.

‘I did no such thing, Granny!’ her granddaughter protested. The inspector firmly brought the conversation back on track.

‘Mrs Cadabra, you are right in one respect. As far as we know, all Flamgoyne descendants are deceased, incapacitated or absconded. The person who has inherited from Lady Gronetta is …’

‘Don’t tell me,’ chortled Senara, ‘Oh, that’s rich …’

‘Quite,’ Trelawney agreed, ill at ease.

Greatly diverted, Senara clasped her hands. ‘It is, isn’t it? Your father!’

Chapter 2

Amanda’s Secret

‘I like to think that that interview went well,’ said the inspector hopefully, pulling the door of the workshop to and enclosing them in Amanda’s professional furniture restoration space. It was a short, if chilly, walk from the house up the garden path between the still-bare fruit trees. In the hedgerow, a pair of chaffinches were arguing about their new nest, while a blue tit was hunting hopefully on the lawn, where only a few snowdrops were carrying the floral flag.

The cottage was situated at the edge of Sunken Madley, a quaint English village some 3 miles south of the Hertfordshire border and 13 miles north of The Houses of Parliament. In April, the orchard next door would be snowing pale pink apple blossom over the house. But that was several weeks away.

‘Of course, it went well. Granny and Grandpa do like you, you know,’ Amanda assured him. She kicked off her house shoes and began shuffling her green overalls over her jeans, and wriggling her feet into light tan work boots.

‘Well, your grandfather makes that more obvious than your grandmother does,’ remarked Trelawney.

‘I know. Please excuse me, gearing up, but I’ve got rather behind on all sorts of other little jobs while I’ve been working at The Grange and then recovering from …’

‘Not at all. You go ahead.’ He wondered if it was just possible that Miss Cadabra would allow him to watch her in action. ‘As long as you don’t mind my being here.’

‘Of course not. Do sit down. You must finish your tea before you go.’ Amanda gestured towards the cream Regency chaise longue, whose deeply carved frame required her expert attention. ‘Then I must get on with splicing Mrs Bindish’s leg.’

‘Surgery?’ he suggested, seating himself.

She laughed. ‘I mean the leg of her card table. The Hoover hose got caught round it and snapped it off. It just needs glueing. Although, look at the state of it. If only Mrs Bindish would let me restore it all properly, but she won’t hear of it.’

However, rather than proceeding, Amanda leaned against the workbench under the west window. She raised her dainty cup from its saucer and sipped her tea, before remarking,

‘It’s usually mugs in here. Not often this place sees Granny’s china.’

‘I imagine not.’

‘Well, we know the next step in solving the last mystery in your cold case now: getting your father to help. At least, your next step.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed

‘After all, he is Arlodh now,’ she pointed out.

‘Lord and master?’ asked Trelawney, whose Cornish was nowhere as good as Amanda’s. She smiled and nodded. ‘Hm … Pasco may still feel some loyalty to his former Flamgoyne overlords,’ Trelawney reasoned cautiously.

‘Yes, in spite of his reservations, he may have been proud of some of what they did. Especially if he helped out.’

‘And it’s a more complicated situation now. Given the relationship between … I mean, the more amicable links now with ….’

‘The one extant representative of the Cardiubarn clan? To wit … me?’ offered Amanda ruefully.

‘Just so.’

‘But you’ll ask your father if he’ll try talking to Pasco?’

‘I shall ask.’

‘When do you think you might do that?’ she enquired.

‘As soon as I can, once I get back to Cornwall.’

‘Face to face?’

‘Definitely,’ the inspector confirmed.

‘Will you be leaving this evening?’

‘Oh yes.’

Amanda drained her cup.

‘Shall we take these to the kitchen, just to be on the safe side? If any harm comes to the china, I’ll never hear the end of it!’

It was clear that she wanted him to leave. He knew why. Trelawney wished Amanda would trust him but, as Aunt Amelia and Hogarth, his former boss, would have said, it was too soon.

He tried not to feel put out. But it wasn’t as though he’d never seen her do it before. He had. All right, only on that one occasion, but it was … And he’d seen the report that Viola had sent Hogarth. It was all in there: what Miss Cadabra could do, what she had done.

Perhaps she was just shy, he attempted to comfort himself. Usually, his mother was rather good at reassuring him. But this was something he could never share with her. Not in a million years. She wouldn’t accept it, and it would make her extremely uncomfortable.

Plus, he reminded himself, there was no reason why Miss Cadabra should confide in him. Their relationship was professional. Until this case was solved, she was still his principal, and only living,