Cherringham--The Secret of Combe Castle Read Online Free PDF Page B

nodding.
    But in truth — she didn’t see.
    Why were they so bothered about these letters when — more importantly — they soon wouldn’t even have a house to live in?
    There was something else going on here.
    Something that Oswald and Edwina FitzHenry weren’t telling them …

6. More than Meets the Eye
    Jack thought he’d seen everything.
    But nothing prepared him for the last room in Oswald FitzHenry’s Odditorium.
    The room was enormous — at least half the width of the mansion. But it wasn’t the size that surprised him — it was the instant feeling that he’d been here before.
    And in a way, he had.
    The room contained a near life-sized copy in wood and moth-eaten canvas of the ancient stone circle of Mabb’s Hill which lay just outside Cherringham.
    Jack had been there many times and recognised it instantly.
    But it had never looked quite like this.
    The circle was populated with more decaying wax figures.
    A handful of what looked like Victorian gentlemen stood awkwardly on the edge of the circle, gesturing, pointing, hands raised in alarm, top hats aloft.
    And in the centre of the circle two men in black trousers and white shirts with suspenders lay on the ground, their shirts red with blood.
    Each man held a pistol in his hand.
    Behind them, two more wax figures stood propped up against the ancient stones: these two, dressed in suits and heavy winter capes, also armed and apparently also badly wounded, with a ridiculous amount of blood drenching their waistcoats.
    In front of the tableau Jack could see a faded wooden sign:
    ‘ The Infamous Duel of Mabb’s Hill, December 1898! Lord Basil FitzHenry Pays the Ultimate Price for Defending his Honour !’
    “Well, detective,” said Oswald. “Here we are! A real-life crime scene for you to solve!”
    Jack laughed. “I’m guessing forensics aren’t going to be much use here.”
    He stepped into the tableau and examined the bodies, one by one.
    “Well,” he said, “from their wounds I’d say these three will survive if we can get them to a good hospital in time.”
    “Go on …”
    “But this one’s a gonner. Clean head shot.”
    “Bravo!” said Oswald. “Care to hazard a guess at what happened?”
    “I’ll let you tell me,” said Jack. “I doubt anything I could come up with will match your family history.”
    “Very true!” said Oswald. “It was quite a cause célèbre in its day. Page two of The Times , no less. So here’s what happened: My unfortunate great-grandfather Lord Basil — who lies here with the bullet in his brains — lived rather the high life due to the immense fortune his own grandfather, Ralph, had amassed as a privateer in the East Indies.”
    Oswald walked around the giant diorama, clearly enjoying his tale-telling.
    “Never one to miss the opportunity to proudly declaim his royal blood too. One night a drunken Percival Pelham scoffed at the equally drunk Lord Basil’s oft-repeated claim. ‘Royal blood indeed’ he laughed.”
    “I think I can guess what happened next …”
    “Yes. Basil challenged Pelham to a duel. The duel took place at dawn the following morning at Mabb’s Hill. Both men and their two seconds were still — according to eyewitness accounts — so blind drunk they could hardly stand. On command, the duellists fired their pistols — and the shots went so wide of the mark that they completely missed their intended targets and hit the seconds instead!”
    Jack laughed. Despite his initial reservations, this was — in fact — quite the story.
    “The seconds, though wounded, believing the shots to be deliberate, fired back immediately. Sir Percival was wounded. But poor Lord Basil was killed instantly.”
    Jack shook his head.
    “Guns and alcohol. Never a good combination. You said Lord Basil was rich. What happened to the money?”
    “Ah well, there’s the rub,” said Oswald. “So sudden was the great man’s death that it appears he made no provision for a will. Nor did he bother to