The Heart of Heathley House: Emily Mansion Old House Mysteries, #5

By Ruby Loren

If you love Agatha Raisin's spark and Nancy Drew's curiosity, The Emily Mansion Old House Mysteries are your next unputdownable read!

Heathley House has a secret hidden within its walls.

Everyone at Heathley Park and Gardens is hopeful that a recent historical find will help to save the struggling public gardens - which were so recently ravaged by fire.

But history has a bigger surprise in store for them.

Emily Mansion finds evidence that the house's true past has been deliberately concealed… and those responsible don't want Heathley to share its secrets.

*A short and sweet English mystery for light and easy reading!*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ruby Loren
• Release date: Feb 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393338819

Book preview

Introduction

The flashlight illuminated the heavy front door and flickered off and on again. The man holding it shook it, praying that it wouldn’t go out. He felt like he was caught in the middle of a storm at sea with buckets of water being dumped on his head every second. Lightning flashed and thunder clashed overhead whilst Michael, a member of the three-person team, fiddled with the lock. The man gripped the flashlight a little tighter, wishing they weren’t so exposed on this hill. But it was tonight or never.

They’d finally found him – the target that the organisation had been hunting for so long! Now all they had to do was get in and then out with the goods, and they’d all be sitting pretty for a long time to come.

He, Charles Beckett, would never have to work another day in his life.

The flashlight shook. Michael turned and swore at him. Charles tightened his grip, knowing that his nerves were creeping in. Everything had been just a little too simple so far. Sure, they’d had to do a lot of digging and persuasion to extract this location from past clients of the man they were looking for, but now that they were here, he’d expected there to be more security.

After you, men, Michael said, opening the door with a flourish. Huxley moved forward, silent as ever. Michael shrugged back in Charles’ direction before walking in himself. Charles had a brief moment of indecision before he decided to ignore his gut feeling and follow them in. He’d be mad to pass up the opportunity to make this kind of money.

The interior of the large house was darker than the stormy night outside. There was a strong smell of dust and decay, and when he moved the flashlight, Charles could see rotting pieces of ceiling on the floor. It didn’t look like anyone lived here.

Huxley snorted and started up the stairs. In Huxley language that probably meant: ‘This is all a ruse to make us think no one’s living here’. Michael followed him and Charles was once more left bringing up the rear.

They’d walked along so many empty corridors that Charles was becoming more and more convinced that the house was empty. For some reason, he felt relieved about that.

Light! Huxley grunted, saying his first word of the night.

Charles snapped out of his stupor and looked up. A door on the left side of the corridor had a soft glow emanating from the cracks. The light flickered, making him think it was probably a candle - that or a fire, started to burn this wretched place down with them all inside it. The carefully laid trap springing shut. A chill ran up Charles’ neck.

Hopefully, it was the former.

This time, there was no lock picking.

Michael slammed his foot into the door, and it burst open. Charles glanced down at the handle when he shuffled in behind Huxley, noting that the door would have opened just as well if one of them had decided to simply turn the handle. He shrugged and pulled out his Browning Hi Power handgun. It was business time.

When Charles entered the sparsely furnished room, Michael already had a gun held to the head of the man sitting behind the desk. Charles spared a moment looking around at the neatly made bed in the corner and the single chest of drawers. Apart from the desk and the chair that the man currently occupied, it was all there was in the room. Hairs prickled on the back of Charles’ neck, joining the chill that was already there.

The man they’d just cornered so easily was probably one of the wealthiest men in the country.

This didn’t feel right.

Are you the keeper of documents? Huxley asked, leaning nonchalantly against the chest of drawers. His low voice had an operatic quality to it, and you could be fooled into thinking he only wanted a civil conversation - that he was a reasonable man.

He was the opposite.

The man with the gun to his head simply smiled. He smiled so widely that Charles would have thought they’d cornered themselves a nut, if he hadn’t been looking at the man’s eyes.

They were dead.

They were just as dead as Huxley’s and all of the other men that Charles had been an underling to for years and years.

This man was a professional killer.

All we want are the deeds to these properties and the wills of these people. Huxley pulled a list from his pocket and threw it in the man’s general direction, keeping his distance. Charles decided that Huxley had also figured out that the man they had cornered was more than he was pretending right now.

Don’t know what you’re talking about, their captive said. The grin didn’t budge. He didn’t even glance at the screwed-up piece of paper which had landed in his lap.

Charles lifted his gun a little higher, sensing the rising tension. He also had a funny idea that it wouldn’t be beyond the stretch of imagination that this man might even be able to disarm Michael before he got the shot off.

Huxley sighed, surprising Charles by sounding like a human being. We are going to get the truth out of you, Mr Sheffield. If you tell us where everything on that list is, we’ll fetch what we came here for and walk away. You’ll never have to see us again and you can carry on your business as usual.

The two men eyeballed each other. Charles tried to subtly adjust his grip on the gun. His hand was growing sweaty.

We both know that’s not true. One of us isn’t going to walk out of here. Go away, while you still have the chance, the man in the chair said.

Now the gun was dead steady in Charles’ hand. He held his breath as the man in the chair calmly lifted up his left hand, bringing it up to scratch his ear on the opposite side of