Into the Thinnest of Air
‘They probably took to their heels the moment they realized he was going crazy,’ said Jimmy. ‘Got as far away from here as they could and then changed their names so they could make a new life for themselves. So none of what Tyrone did could attach itself to them.’
‘You really think Tyrone would have let them run?’ said Olivia.
‘What do you think happened?’ I said.
Albert shrugged, Olivia smiled. ‘Just another of the many mysteries and talking points that will bring in the tourists,’ she said cheerfully.
I looked to Valerie. ‘What do you think happened?’
To my surprise she hesitated. And Jimmy was quick to get in first, smiling his self-satisfied smile.
‘I made it my business to look up the old details in my newspaper’s morgue. All the original stories in our dusty archives. Just to refresh my memory and make sure I could hold my own during the evening’s conversation. The first killings in the Castle took place a century or more before Tyrone. When Revenue Men stormed the inn to bring down the local smugglers, who’d made the mistake of becoming too successful to be overlooked any longer. Bit of a bloodbath by all accounts. The smugglers barricaded themselves inside this stony edifice, but the Revenue Men had the numbers and forced their way in. The smugglers fought it out, and lost. The few survivors were summarily hanged from the tree outside. The Castle was sold off at public auction and new owners took it on, as just an inn.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought they’d have many customers, after so many people died here,’ said Penny.
‘Not at all!’ said Olivia. ‘People came from far and wide, just to see where the battle took place. The general public has always liked a good bloody story. That’s what we’re counting on.’
‘But custom gradually faded away,’ said Albert, ‘As newer and bloodier stories caught the public’s attention. The Castle became yesterday’s news and settled for being just another country pub. Until Elliot Tyrone made the place infamous again.’
‘And now Tyrone’s story is old enough to be new again,’ said Olivia. ‘We’re spreading the story through our website, plus local publicity. A horror story this good is bound to bring the tourists back.’
‘They’ll come for the story, but they’ll stay for our cooking,’ said Albert.
I smiled. ‘I wonder if that’s what Tyrone said …’
Penny glared at me.
‘I have turned up some new information during my extensive researches,’ said Valerie, determined not to be left out of things. ‘Jimmy was kind enough to allow me access to his newspaper stacks, and I found all kinds of interesting things that never made it into the regular story.’
‘Of course he let you have access,’ said Eileen, as much to her glass as anyone else. ‘He never could refuse you anything.’
‘I always thought I had a book in me,’ said Jimmy, just a bit loudly. ‘But I never could find the time.’
‘I’ve been trying to work out who or what the Voices might have been that Tyrone swore drove him to kill all those people,’ said Valerie, talking right over Jimmy. ‘I found a memoir written by one of the men who helped hang Elliot Tyrone. He said he asked Tyrone about the Voices, and Tyrone said they just came to him out of nowhere. So sudden and so powerful he was helpless before them. Now, if he’d been suffering from some kind of mental illness you’d expect him to have been hearing the Voices for some time. This account makes it sound more like he was possessed …’
I looked around the table. Everyone was listening carefully, their faces blank. ‘Do you have any idea who or what the Voices might have been?’ I said. ‘Are there any local superstitions to account for them?’
‘It was the Devil,’ said Thomas. His voice was quite calm and matter of fact.
‘There are some local stories,’ said Valerie, ostentatiously ignoring Thomas. ‘But there’s not much to them. There are two celebrated local witches from the same time as the smugglers, though their fame never travelled much beyond the town. The first one, Nettie of the Woods, might or might not have been a gypsy. People who hear her voice in the woods are supposed to go mad with fear and run till they drop. The other one was called Agnes of the Well, though who she was or where the well was are lost to us now. Agnes was supposed to whistle up storms to drown the local fishermen. Just for the joy and the spite of it, apparently. And there’s been reports of selkies off the coast for generations. They are the Cornish version of mermaids, though they’re supposed to be shape-shifters too.’
‘All very interesting, I’m sure,’ said Jimmy, in a tone that suggested otherwise. ‘But what reason could any of them have to make an innkeeper poison his guests?’
‘They’re just stories,’ said Valerie. ‘And who knows what details might have been lost down the years?’
‘I did some research myself, once I knew I was coming down here,’ said Penny. ‘Several local murderers have blamed the Voices, haven’t they? Did any of them ever put a name to the Voice they heard?’
‘No,’ said Jimmy. ‘Not one of them. You’re very well informed, my dear.’
‘I was interested,’ said Penny.
‘What about ghost stories?’ I said. ‘Every old inn worth its salt comes with a few ghost stories attached. I know about the tree, but what about inside the inn? Has Tyrone ever been seen walking about, or any of his victims? Or any of the smugglers who died here?’
‘Surprisingly, no,’ said Valerie. ‘But there have been any number of sightings of the hanging tree, back in its old place. Right up to modern times. Odd, really, given how many people have died in this inn. I’m surprised we’re not hip deep in ghosts.’
Everyone round the table laughed.
‘You don’t believe in ghosts?’ I said.
They all gave me the same pitying look.
‘It’s all just stuff made up for the tourists,’ said Olivia. ‘No one around here believes any of that nonsense. We just tell the old tales to keep the tourists happy. So they can take the stories home with them, along with their overpriced souvenirs.’
‘Tyrone’s story will make the Castle very popular,’ said Albert.
‘You’ve put a lot of effort into refurbishing this place,’ said Jimmy. ‘Must have cost a bit to get all the details right. Where did you find that kind of money?’
The question was clearly meant to sound casual. But it came out a little too sharply, as though Jimmy had a point to make. Albert just smiled happily back at him.
‘We won the lottery!’
‘Not the big prize, obviously,’ said Olivia. ‘We’re not millionaires, or we wouldn’t need to run a pub, would we? But we won enough to make it possible for us to buy the Castle and renovate it from top to bottom. We always wanted to do that.’
And again, a look moved quickly among the four guests. They knew something I didn’t, and I was getting pretty tired of that.
‘Of course,’ said Jimmy, entirely casually, ‘if your grand opening tomorrow turns out to be a flop – perhaps because I write a really bad review of tonight’s meal – that would ruin your big comeback, wouldn’t it?’
Among old friends that should have been a joke, just a bit of banter. But instead, it sounded almost like a threat. Olivia smiled easily back at him.
‘We expect most of our business to come from outside the area. Our website should bring people here from all over the country. That’s where the real money is. So you can write whatever you like, Jimmy, it won’t make any difference. You just relax and enjoy yourself.’
‘People love old horror stories these days,’ Albert said comfortably. ‘And we’ve got one of the best.’
‘I’m not sure I approve of using the legend of Elliot Tyrone like this,’ said Thomas. ‘It was a terrible chapter in the town’s history.’
‘Good thing we don’t need your approval then, Thomas,’ said Olivia.
‘Your opening night is practically a celebration of murder,’ Thomas said flatly.
‘It all happened a long time ago,’ s
aid Albert.
‘There are still people living in Black Rock Towen today who had relatives die here on that awful night,’ said Eileen. ‘They still remember.’
‘Then they should stay away,’ Olivia said lightly, ‘so they won’t be upset. We can manage without their custom.’
‘I have to wonder,’ said Thomas, ‘whether it could be dangerous reviving Tyrone’s past? Rebuilding the scene of his crime, calling on his name … Sometimes the past should be left in the past, so it won’t return to trouble the present. How can anything good come of something so evil?’
‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ Olivia said firmly. ‘All the time Albert and I have spent here overseeing the renovations, neither of us have ever seen or heard anything out of the ordinary.’
‘Though you had to bring in builders from outside,’ said Eileen. ‘From the city. Because no one local would do the work, for any amount of money.’
‘Why is that?’ asked Penny.
‘Because this is a bad place,’ said Eileen. ‘Always has been. And everyone in the town knows it.’
‘We went to the city for our workforce because we wanted experienced professionals,’ said Olivia. ‘Not just local joiners and plasterers. Everything here had to be historically accurate, right down to the smallest detail.’
‘Even though it did use up most of our money,’ said Albert. ‘Of course, we did experience a few unusual things …’
‘What sort of things?’ Penny asked immediately.
‘Nothing, really,’ said Olivia, frowning at Albert. ‘Just … sometimes things would go missing. I would put something down, and when I turned back it was gone. They always turned up later.’
‘Perhaps we’ve got a very tidy poltergeist …’ said Albert.
Everyone laughed, except Thomas. The vicar was looking unusually solemn. Almost disturbed.
‘There was an exorcism here, you know,’ he said. ‘They brought in a bishop, from Truro, and he did the whole bell, book and candle thing. That was just a few weeks after the murders. Because of what Tyrone said, about the Voices.’
‘Did the exorcism have any effect?’ I said.
‘No,’ said Thomas. ‘It didn’t. I’m pretty sure it was all put on for show. To reassure people that it was safe to patronize the Castle again. The new owner probably called in a favour.’
‘But it was still a bad place,’ said Eileen. ‘They had to call in a second bishop just a year later.’
‘Yes,’ said Thomas. ‘All the way from London. Whatever could have been happening here to bring a bishop all the way down to Cornwall in those times?’
‘I didn’t know there was a second exorcism,’ said Jimmy. He looked at Valerie. ‘Did you know?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘There wasn’t anything about that in the local press …’
Thomas smiled. ‘It’s in the Church records. Everything’s there if you know where to look.’
‘Why did you look?’ I said.
‘Because nothing good can come of a celebration of murder,’ said Thomas.
‘Then why are you here?’ said Olivia.
‘Because I thought you might need me,’ Thomas said evenly. ‘Eileen’s quite right, this is a bad place. Not just the inn. Did you know that this whole area is infamous for having the highest number of missing persons in the country? Every year people disappear and are never seen again.’
‘That’s easy enough to explain,’ said Jimmy. ‘They’ve all gone off to the cities, where the jobs are!’
He laughed, but nobody joined in. They were all looking thoughtful. Olivia’s head came up sharply.
‘Oh! Look at the time! You’ll have to excuse us, the first course is almost ready.’
She disappeared back through the side door, followed quickly by Albert.
‘After all this build-up, the meal had better be pretty damned memorable,’ said Jimmy.
‘I’m sure it will be,’ said Thomas.
THREE
The Past is Always With Us
The side door slammed open again and Albert came bustling back in, pushing a heavily-laden trolley ahead of him. Wafts of steam and pleasant odours rose up from plates of food and a wide assortment of side dishes. Olivia followed Albert in and oversaw his distribution of the meal. She didn’t actually do anything to help, but no doubt her constant running commentary helped Albert do his job. Plates piled high with good food appeared before all of us in quick succession, followed by two Victorian-period gravy boats and all kinds of extra vegetables. Sounds of hearty appreciation rose on every side at the sight and smells of the grand celebratory meal. Which turned out to be exactly what I had identified earlier from the kitchen aromas – thickly sliced roast beef and plenty of it, big fluffy dumplings, and a satisfyingly wide assortment of out-of-season vegetables. All of it nicely perked up with herbs and spices and more pepper than I would have considered strictly necessary, though no one else seemed to notice that last bit or give a damn.
‘Traditional olde English fare,’ Olivia said proudly. ‘Taken from an actual menu prepared by Elliot Tyrone himself.’
‘Then maybe we should get in a food taster,’ Jimmy said loudly. ‘Just to be on the safe side …’
Various smiles and chuckles greeted his attempt at humour. Olivia made a point of forking a small portion of Jimmy’s food from off his plate and chewing it thoroughly. Jimmy had the grace to look a little abashed, even though he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. Thomas gave him a stern look, and then everyone gave their full attention to the meal. We all tried the meal carefully at first, ready to make polite comments if any of the food turned out to be a disappointment. But it was all excellent stuff and we all tucked in happily. Albert and Olivia sat down together at the far end of the table and seemed to spend as much time watching everyone for their reactions as they did eating. We were all careful to smile widely and make appreciative noises, and disputed vigorously over extra helpings from the side dishes. Sometimes, it’s a hard job being a guest.
Bottles of wine had appeared along with the food, a nice assortment of acceptable reds. Good enough for no one to feel like allowing the wine time to breathe. Eileen immediately grabbed hold of a bottle and planted it firmly in front of her, so she could refill her glass whenever she felt like it. Thomas watched her do this, but didn’t say anything. As though it was just normal behaviour where Eileen was concerned. He didn’t appear upset or disappointed, just quietly resigned. I had to wonder how long this had been going on. I did notice that even though Eileen had been putting back the booze at a steady rate for some time, she didn’t seem particularly affected. And it certainly didn’t interfere with her appetite for the food in front of her.
Conversation rose and fell around the table, slowed down by our enjoyment of the food but not stopped. The newly reunited old friends had a lot to say, though I got the impression that sometimes what wasn’t being said was just as significant as what was. I was fascinated by the way they all circled around and even avoided subjects I would have expected them to care about most. They talked about the food, of course, along with remembered good times and old exploits … But no one talked about what the four guests were doing for a living these days, or what they were planning to do. What kind of old friends aren’t interested in catching up? And, most intriguing of all, not a word was spoken about the legend of Elliot Tyrone or the inn’s past history.
I was still waiting for Albert and Olivia to explain why they’d invited Penny to attend. Everyone went out of their way to include her and me in the general conversation, but I couldn’t help listening for the other shoe to drop. In the end, I just concentrated on my food and didn’t press the point. I was glad of a chance for the two of us to relax, away from the weird business and unnatural mysteries that took up most of our time together and enjoying being a normal couple on a normal night out.
Valerie was sitting on my other side. Suddenly she leaned over and forked a little something from my plate. When I looked at her, she just smiled
and popped the morsel into her mouth with a decidedly sensual flourish. I smiled back at her uncertainly. Then without waiting for me to ask or even indicate whether I wanted more wine, she filled my glass to the brim. I nodded my thanks in a carefully non-committal way, not sure where this was going. Valerie then leaned in really close, so she could remark on how good the food was, how well the evening was going, and how pleased she was that I was there. She placed her hand on top of mine and stared directly into my eyes. I did my best to make polite replies and not let her see how baffled I was by her behaviour. She was after something. But what? I waited till she turned away to pour herself more wine, then withdrew my hand from under hers and turned to Penny, who had clearly seen it all and was grinning broadly at my discomfort. I raised an eyebrow, to ask what was going on.
Penny leaned in close, and I put my head forward so she could murmur in my ear.
‘She fancies you, you idiot …’
I shook my head slowly. Even after all these years, there were certain subtleties of human behaviour that still escaped me. Penny might find it all very amusing, but I didn’t. I shifted my chair away from Valerie and closer to Penny. Valerie turned back in time to see this and shrugged briefly, then switched her attention to Jimmy, sitting opposite her. She thanked him for all his help in researching her book and giving her a lift to the Castle in his car, and made a point of telling him how much she’d enjoyed a particular article he’d written recently. And all the time her hand was on top of his, while she stared straight into his eyes. Jimmy didn’t seem to find anything unusual in this behaviour. He smiled easily back at her and promised he would do whatever he could to help her. Thomas hadn’t missed any of this, and was smiling privately. Eileen had also noticed, but didn’t appear to give a damn.
The conversation hit a natural lull and silence fell across the table. Perhaps only I seemed to notice how uncomfortable this made everyone else. As if gaps couldn’t be allowed, in case someone filled them with the wrong subject. Thomas cleared his throat, and turned to face Albert and Olivia.