Page 52 of Murder Most Haunted
The painting in itself was not dissimilar to the numerous Atherton portraits that filled every square inch of the hall. What made this one stand out, leaving Midge rigid with amazement, was the deep slash that now ran the length of the canvas, gutting it from top to bottom.
Stepping quietly across the library floor, Midge reached up to gently touch the canvas where it flapped loosely down. The cut was thin and precise, executed by something tiny and sharp.
Like a letter opener.
Tapping the frame thoughtfully, Midge shifted her weight back to her cane before shuffling to the door. When she was sure that she wouldn’t be seen, she stepped back into the corridor, her head swimming with questions. What exactly had the doctor and Rona been arguing about? Who had destroyed the painting in the library? And why now?
The former bothered her the most, and all the way back to her room she analysed the words she had overheard. Did the doctor think Rona was behind Rendell’s death? Admittedly, Rona’s moods did seem very up and down, but Midge had put that down to being artistic in nature. She hadn’t known her for very long, but she couldn’t picture the pop star killing someone. At the very least, she didn’t appear to have the constitution for it. Once inside her bedroom, feeling the warmth from the radiator, Midge carefully reached into her pocket to take the small brass key out when something crinkled beside it. It was the picture of Rendell’s family. Pulling it out, she placed the photo at the back of the last handkerchief, nestled upright against the stray button she had rescued from outside Harold’s room.
She had just settled herself in the plump armchair with her embroidery, when there was a knock at the door.
It was a delegation. Well, Harold and Noah, both of whom looked like children on Christmas morning.
‘We’re going to try the engine house.’
‘Why exactly?’ asked Midge, resting against her cane.
‘We may find something there we could use as a distress signal.’
‘What about the firing?’ asked Midge.
‘It’s stopped for the moment,’ replied Noah, nodding his head at the window. Midge listened and, true enough, the distant booming had fallen silent. It did seem to stop and start fairly frequently. ‘Anyway, the mines are still on the estate grounds. They should be safe.’
Should be?thought Midge. ‘Who’s going?’
‘Noah, me and Rona. The Mortimers are staying put. Gloria’s going completely doolally, if you ask me,’ said Harold, although for the life of her, Midge could not think why anyone would turn to him for a mental health assessment. ‘Will you come?’ he continued. ‘Safety in numbers and all that.’
‘By that, do you mean you are intending to use me as a shield?’ asked Midge.
‘Eh? No,’ said Harold, blinking.
‘Then, presumably, you must be hoping that if there are more people, the odds of you individually being shot are reduced.’
‘Are you coming or not?’ asked Harold, folding his arms across his chest.
‘No,’ replied Midge, tapping her cane on the ground. ‘I think I’ve made that quite obvious.’
‘Please,’ said Rona, who had appeared behind them, looking remarkably brighter than she had sounded in the drawing room. She wore an oversized jacket and red wellingtons. Midge had never seen galoshes with sequins before.
‘Come on, Midge. I won’t feel comfortable leaving you alone in the house with an unhinged madwoman.’
‘I don’t think it’s fair to keep talking about Gloria in that way.’
‘I mean the White Lady of the Moor!’ cried Rona.
‘But surely she is more likely to be outonthe moors...’ replied Midge, waving her cane towards the window.
‘Oh, please!’ Rona pouted. This came as a surprise to Midge, whose company had certainly never been requested so fervently before.
‘I don’t know.’ She shook her head.
However, it had occurred to Midge that if she stayed behind, her only other companions in the house were the Mortimers and a dead body. ‘Well, I’m sure I can manage a hobble if nothing else.’
Although even that was beginning to sound far more energetic and dangerous than Midge would have liked.
Chapter33
‘What the hell are you wearing?’ Harold stared at Noah, his mouth opening and shutting in stunned surprise.
