Cornish Castle Mystery Collection: Tales of murder and mystery from Cornwall. Vivian Conroy
– suggested these two were related, but there was little likeness in their faces. While Kensa was blonde with bags under her eyes suggesting she slept badly, Tegen had wild raven hair and a deep tan as if she was outdoors a lot. She wasn’t in medieval garb either but a green shimmery cocktail dress that ended two inches above the knees.
Tegen focused on Oliver, and her expression lit. ‘I had no idea you were back here, Ollie.’
Oliver didn’t seem to share her enthusiasm for their reunion. He looked at her dress and said, ‘I’m sure polyester wasn’t around in the Middle Ages.’
‘Well, I don’t want to look like an idiot in front of all of those people. Mum says the society is inviting members from other societies to attend. There might even be a piece in the newspapers. I want to look good.’ Tegen smoothed down the short skirt, the silver bracelets on her left arm tinkling. Intrigued by the sound, Dolly came over, and Tegen sat on her haunches at once to scratch the doggy behind the ears. ‘We need a dog too, Mum. Just a small one like this. At Emma’s there was an ad for puppies.’
Kensa’s eyes narrowed. ‘What were you doing at Emma’s?’
Tegen ignored the question and said, ‘Golden retriever puppies. They’re so fluffy and cute.’
Kensa had returned to her basket and looked Oliver over. ‘Don’t they feed you on your travels?’
‘Mum!’ Tegen shot to her feet and elbowed her. ‘He’s just lean.’
Oliver didn’t seem to hear as he lifted the cloth covering off the basket. There were garments inside like the one Kensa wore herself, of coarse dark material. Oliver scoffed as he ran his hand over the fabric. ‘Haydock’s going to wear this? That’ll be the day. Why didn’t he want to be the judge in the play? Be on the good side of the law?’
Looking past him as if he didn’t exist, Haydock said to Kensa, ‘Now that the costumes are ready for us to wear during our rehearsal tonight it will be even more real than other times.’
He seemed to want to catch Kensa’s eye, but she avoided looking at him, fussing with the basket instead. Her reluctance to engage formed a complete contrast with her earlier dominant behaviour.
Oliver pressed Haydock, ‘Why did you want to be Branok?’
Haydock’s eyes flashed a moment. ‘Branok was a resourceful man. Without him this castle would have ended up destitute. He saved it. He should never have been tried.’
‘He wasn’t convicted,’ Oliver scoffed. ‘He got away scot-free.’
‘Scot-free? He was forced to leave the island. Even without any conviction his old life as he had built it was over. Hardly fair.’
‘Fair?’ Kensa hitched a brow. ‘That man was guilty of the death of two small children. Hurting children is the worst thing anyone can ever do.’
There was a short tense silence. Haydock seemed to have flinched under her words as if they struck him across the face.
Then Kensa said in a forced light tone, ‘Do you have the Branok ring?’
‘Yes,’ Haydock said, reaching into his pocket as if to produce it.
Everybody watched him expectantly, but he retracted his hand. ‘When I’m dressed, I’ll put it on.’ He looked around slowly. ‘You’ll be surprised to see it. It’s the genuine article.’
‘I don’t believe you have a ring dating back to Branok’s lifetime,’ Oliver said at once. ‘Where would you have found it?’ He surveyed him suspiciously.
‘Maybe not dating back to Branok’s lifetime, but it’s centuries old. And intimately connected with Cornisea.’ Haydock smiled as he said it, hiding some secret satisfaction related to the ring he carried on his person.
Everybody waited for him to go on, but he didn’t seem willing to reveal more about it right now.
Then Bolingbrooke said, ‘Yes, well, let’s get on with it. Everybody better get dressed and then I’ll lock Branok in the dungeon. Perhaps Oliver can go down there already to light the torches?’
He looked at Guinevere and explained, ‘We still have no electric light in the dungeons. It’s old-fashioned torches along the wall.’
‘More like lanterns with tea lights in it.’ Oliver gestured at her. ‘Do you want to come along? Then you can see the dungeon. Everybody else has already seen it.’
The latter seemed meant to stop Tegen, who appeared about to invite herself along.
Guinevere agreed and snapped her fingers at Dolly, who immediately came to her side. They followed Oliver out of the room. The last thing Guinevere saw was Tegen, whispering angrily to her mother. Kensa wasn’t listening though as she was watching Haydock and his daughter Leah with a brooding look.
‘Nobody seems to like each other,’ Guinevere observed as they took a corridor that led into a dim recess. ‘Is all this tension just because of the play? Kensa seemed to force her directions onto the others.’
‘That’s just the way she is.’ Oliver sighed. ‘She thinks she did most of the work for the play, gathering information from sources kept here at the castle. So she believes she should tell everybody how to act the part. Besides, they’ve all been stuck here for all of their lives. They have history with each other.’
‘History?’ Guinevere asked, trying to interpret the word.
Oliver made a gesture. ‘If you asked my father, he’d say Kensa is always supporting Haydock, because she’s in love with him. But that was ages ago, before she married her husband. Haydock was ambitious even then and he would never have married someone who wasn’t in his league. The woman he did marry brought in money and connections so he could establish his law firm. His only disappointment in life is that he doesn’t have a son to take over.’
‘So he took Leah in.’ Guinevere understood. ‘Is she her father’s successor now?’
‘She’d be very stupid if she agreed to that.’
Oliver sounded bitter again, like he had before. Apparently, there was also history between him and Leah. Concerning her professional choices?
‘Why would it be stupid?’ Guinevere probed. ‘Leah seems so eager to please her father.’
‘That’s exactly why. The old kitchens,’ Oliver said, waving his hands in that direction. ‘But we’re going down here.’ He took the iron ring on an old door in his hand and pulled. The door opened slowly with an ominous creak.
Guinevere felt a shiver go down her spine. Dungeons had been creepy places in times gone by. People had been locked up there with the rats, awaiting trial or execution. Without daylight, with just a little food. And foremost no hope of ever getting free again.
Oliver gestured. ‘Ladies first.’
Dolly yapped and seemed eager to explore the dark void ahead.
Guinevere hung back and protested, ‘But I have no light.’
‘Here you go.’ Oliver reached inside the door and produced a large torch. ‘Hold tight, it’s heavy.’
Guinevere took it from his grasp and switched it on. The light fell on a stone floor that soon turned into steps that went down. Guinevere moved forward carefully, keeping her eyes trained on the floor right before her feet. Dolly didn’t seem to mind the darkness as she jogged ahead, sniffing every few paces. Her nails scratched across the stone.
Behind Guinevere’s back the door fell to a close. The sound echoed away into the emptiness ahead of her. Goose bumps rose on her arms.
‘Spooky, huh?’ Oliver said at her shoulder.
Guinevere shivered, imagining rustling ahead of them and reddish rodent eyes lighting up in the darkness, but she forced herself to walk on quietly. ‘What was that between your father and Haydock