The Curious Case of the Clockwork Man - By Mark Hodder Page 0,60
of the county coroner.
Trounce settled in the smoking room with Burton and Swinburne.
"It's plain enough that he was killed by the fall," he muttered. "But how am I to begin the investigation? Ghosts, by Jove! It's absurd! First Brundleweed and now Tichborne!"
"That's a very interesting point," Burton said. "We can at least establish that the two crimes are linked - beyond the presence of a ghost, I mean."
"How so?"
"We dismissed Brundleweed's spook as either imagination or a gas-induced hallucination. However, last night I witnessed ghosts pulling poor Sir Alfred straight through solid matter. It strikes me that if they can do that with a man, then they can certainly do it with diamonds."
"You mean to suggest that, some little time before Brunel's clockwork raiding party arrived, Brundleweed's ghost reached into his safe and pulled the Fran?ois Garnier gems right out, replacing them with onyx stones, all without even opening the door?"
"Yes. Exactly that."
"And was it the Tichborne ghost, Captain? This Lady Mabella?"
"It would be fair to assume so. The motive appears to be the same; she has an interest in black diamonds. There's rumoured to be one, of the same variety as the Choir Stones, concealed somewhere on this estate. Lady Mabella has spent night after night knocking on the walls around the house. What does that suggest to you?"
"That she's been searching for a secret hiding place?"
"Precisely - although it's strange that she should knock on walls when she has the ability to walk right through them. That aside, we appear to have a diamond-hungry spook on our hands. I propose that our priority should be to discover the stone before she does; perhaps then we can find out why it's so important to her."
Trounce rubbed his hands over his face, his expression a picture of exasperation. "Fine! Fine! But it beats me why a diamond should be of any blessed use to a ghost!"
"As I say, my friend, that is the crux of the matter."
"And why murder Sir Alfred?"
"Perhaps to make way for the Claimant?"
Algernon Swinburne clapped his hands together. "Dastardly!" he cried. "The witch and the imposter are hand-in-glove!"
Trounce groaned. "I was the laughing stock of the Yard for decades because I believed in Spring Heeled Jack. Lord knows what mockery I'm letting myself in for now, but I suppose we'd better get on with it. Where do we start?"
"In the kitchen."
"The kitchen? Why the kitchen?"
"Of course!" Swinburne enthused, as realisation dawned. "Mrs. Picklethorpe's snoring!"
Trounce looked from the king's agent to the diminutive poet and back again.
"You know, I could easily grow to dislike you two. What in the devil's name are you jabbering about?"
"We have Herbert Spencer the vagrant philosopher with us," Burton explained. "He's staying down in the servants' quarters. He complained that the cook snores, and that the sound reverberates through the walls. Perhaps it's because the walls are hollow."
"And there's a dreadful old family poem," Swinburne added, "which says Consume if thou wouldst uncover. We think the diamond is hidden somewhere under the two wheat fields at the front of the house. Initially, we speculated that the doggerel was instructing whoever wanted to find it to get rid of the crop and dig, but perhaps there's an easier way."
"You mean a secret passage from the kitchen?" Trounce asked.
"Or, more specifically, from one of the famous pantries," Burton responded.
"Gad!" Trounce exclaimed. Then again: "Gad!"
"The Claimant is due here soon, so I suggest we have a poke around straightaway. I don't know how welcome we'll be in the manor once he sets foot in it."
Trounce jerked his head in agreement.
They left the smoking room and sought out Colonel Lushington, who they found pacing in the study, next to the library.
He looked up as they entered. "More news," he announced. "Bad. Maybe good. Not sure. Could be either. Depends how it goes. Hawkins is of the opinion that it'll be a civil trial: Tichborne versus Lushington."
"Why so?" Burton asked.
"The Claimant, under the name Roger Tichborne, will contest my right to act on the family's behalf. He'll try to have me removed from the house. Ejected. Out on my ear, so to speak. However, if he's not Roger Tichborne, we'll counter by suing for a criminal trial. Court. Jury. So forth. King versus Claimant."
"Good!" Trounce grunted. "That would bring Scotland Yard in on the matter."
Lushington agreed. "High time. I'd certainly like to know more about what the Claimant fellow got up to in Australia when he was calling himself Tomas Castro!"