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almost before the vehicle had come to a halt. Fumbling
in her purse, she found the keys and flung open the
front door.
The freezing air hit her with force and she shivered
as she groped for the light switch. The electricity had
been reconnected and a weak light washed over the
frigid hall.
There were one or two letters on the floor near the
door. One was from Mr Munro and the others from the
local council. She looked out the window and saw
Jacob unloading the boxes by the front gate. He
dropped the last one heavily and clambered back into
the truck. Belinda gasped in exasperation and dropping
the letters, ran back out along the path. A tendril of a
weed caught her foot and she fell headlong into a bush.
There was a roar of laughter from the truck as Belinda
pulled herself free from the foliage, her hair ruffled and
a scratch on her arm. She glared at Jacob.
 Well, don t just sit there laughing like a hyena, help
me get the boxes inside.
Jacob shook his head and turned the ignition key.
Belinda stared at him in disbelief.
 That s your problem, Miss Lawrence. You re so
efficient, I think you should be able to manage to get
the contents inside.
 But it s getting dark, wailed Belinda.
 That it is, so you d better get started. The truck
moved off slowly.  Welcome to Milford, Miss
Lawrence. Jacob sullenly gave a wave and drove on
up the hill to his own cottage.
 You brute, shouted Belinda after the taillights, and
kicked one of the boxes angrily.
Unfortunately it was a solid carton holding the works
of Shakespeare and Dickens, and Belinda stubbed her
toe. She let out a cry of pain.
Feeling miserable and close to tears she began to
carry armfuls of her belongings inside, hobbling along
on her injured foot and dumping them in a pile on the
floor. She made her way to the long room with the
intention of lighting the fire to warm the house. As she
flung open the door she stopped in amazement.
The room was in chaos.
Drawers had been torn from cupboards. All the
books from the bookcase were scattered about the
room. Pictures had been torn from their frames.
Belinda gave a cry of exasperation. Instinctively she
knew this was not the work of vandals.
Whoever had broken into her cottage was searching
for something and she was convinced that that
 something had to do with the mysterious  Lancelot
Bro&  .
Five
The stars were twinkling when the last armful of
Belinda s unpacked belongings hit the floor and she
sank exhausted onto the sofa. Her arms were aching
and her back sore but her mind was exhilarated with
lurid thoughts of Jacob stretched on one of his
mediaeval racks  slowly elongating.
With weary limbs she carried wood to the fireplace
and collapsed in a frazzled heap in front of the
soothing flames, aching, grubby and exceedingly
lonely.
Back in London curtains would be going up in the
theatres, nightclubs happily full of dancing people,
restaurants serving gourmet food.
 And I haven t got a thing to eat, whimpered
Belinda, tears of self-pity and frustration welling up.
After her discovery of the confusion in the long
room, she had fearfully made her way upstairs. Even
though this was her first night in her new home she felt
the violation by the intruders as keenly as if she had
lived there all her life. Her first thought was to run up
the hill to Jacob, but her pride and her anger prevented
her. Arming herself with an iron poker, she tentatively
climbed the stairs.
Her worst fears were confirmed as she inspected
the disarray in each bedroom. Beds had been stripped
and contents of cupboards flung on the floor. There
wasn t one piece of furniture that had not been
violated.
Anger rose up in her as she raged at the monster
that had desecrated her home and, she was certain,
had butchered her aunt. She felt certain that the two
events were connected.
The morning sun shone brilliantly into the long room as
Belinda began to clean up the mess and restack the
books on the bookshelf. As she worked, Belinda
deliberated on what her next move should be. It was
possible that the intruders were just vandals who had
heard that her aunt had died and took sadistic pleasure
in destroying her property. Yet even as she thought it,
Belinda rejected this premise. But if she went to the
police now, without strong evidence, she would be met
with the same cynical response that had greeted her
suspicions about aunt Jane s death. Somehow she had
to find the connection between the violation of the
cottage and her aunt s murder. In her mind Belinda
rejected the word  death , convinced in her heart that it
was not just a simple fall down the stairs.
Mr Munro s letter, which had awaited her arrival,
confirmed that all the legal documents had been
completed and Belinda was now the legal owner of the
property. A further investigation of the house that
morning had disclosed two more rooms in an attic area [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]