Free The Dead of Winter by Jane A. Adams Page B

didn’t get around to?’
    â€˜Another job?’ Rina was intrigued.
    â€˜I read some more of Viv’s notes. Apparently, formal gardens were laid out just after he and Elizabeth got married, but all work stopped after she left. He had plans to install more bathrooms and better plumbing, but that stopped too – and the improvements Elizabeth urged him to make to the workers’ cottages? He never finished them either. It’s like life was just frozen off after she had gone, and I still can’t figure out why she left when she did. As suddenly as she did.’
    â€˜She was gone before they discovered poor Dr Pym’s body,’ Rina said, nodding. ‘It’s an odd event all round. The man who rented this place after Albert died sounds very strange too.’
    â€˜Oh, the mad scientist.’ Joy laughed. ‘Some of his books are in the library; I found them this morning. There wasn’t much he wasn’t into: he wrote volumes on electricity and microscopy and he had a telescope on the roof. Maybe he liked to be well away from the rest of the world so it didn’t matter that guests had to trek across three counties if they wanted to visit. Who are all these people?’
    â€˜Apparently, a mixture of stage magicians, psychical researchers and special-effects people. Melissa says it’s quite unusual to have them in the same place, and I think she would love to stage a regular event here.’ Rina paused to study the new arrivals; the demographic was largely male, white, thirty to fifty, she would guess. Most were deep in conversation, some looking around with interest, a few pausing on the threshold as though to assess the atmosphere before deciding to commit.
    â€˜Good morning, did you sleep well? When do we get breakfast?’ Terry Beal loped up the stairs and plonked himself down beside Joy.
    â€˜Surprisingly well, thank you,’ Rina told him. ‘You?’
    â€˜Oh yes, and I’ve been for a run already. I’m starving now.’
    Joy laughed. ‘Where did you run to? You must have looked like a mud wrestler by the time you got back.’
    â€˜Too right, I did. I ran back down what they laughingly call the gated road and then cut across towards the wood. To be honest, I didn’t do the miles I usually do this morning. I was sliding about all over the bloody place, fell twice. I could just imagine my agent’s face if I had to ring and tell her I’d broken my leg after slipping on a cow pat. If Melissa really wants to make a go of this place, she needs to install a gym at the very least. Maybe even a sauna.’
    â€˜I’ve never really fancied saunas,’ Rina said.
    â€˜Me neither,’ Terry Beal agreed. ‘The one time I tried one I came out looking like a beetroot and feeling sick as a dog, but my wife loves them so we installed that and a hot tub last year.’
    â€˜What does your wife do?’ Joy asked.
    â€˜She’s an artist,’ Terry said, and they could hear the pride in his voice. ‘We met at school, lost touch for a while, and then ran into one another fifteen years ago. I was doing voice-overs and adverts and anything I could blag my way into; she had just had her first solo show. We’d neither of us got any money and not much in the way of prospects either, and we started off sharing a flat with another girl we’d been at school with. Anyway, one thing led to another, and we got married six months after that and I made the first Matt Bianco film the following year. The rest, as they say . . . I meant to ask last night, how do you both feel about this spiritualist stuff? Only, I’ve got to admit, I’m not really looking forward to it.’
    â€˜No?’ Joy was intrigued. ‘What bothers you?’
    â€˜Oh, I don’t know. It’s all a bit . . .’
    â€˜Contrived, artificial, nonsensical?’ Joy suggested.
    â€˜Not a believer