I had no regrets. The hell-beast couldn’t have been unleashed on a finer person. But still, the question remained...what todowith him?
Timing was critical. The last anybody saw of Tom Stoddard was at Crowthorne House, right before he led Grace to his truck. The neighbours might have seen Grace with him, or even guests, who were milling around outside. He would be on our CCTV system, and the police would undoubtedly want to look at that. It crossed my mind to erase the last 24 hours, like a fool, but I knew that would only work against me. It was as good as admitting I had something to hide.
No, that wouldn’t do. I would stay calm and think of something. In any case, Grace’s connection with Tom’s family and the village would lead them straight to HeatherHouse, and it wouldn’t take them long to find his body then. I tapped my fingertips on the wheel as I wondered how long it might take for Tom’s family to report him missing. Perhaps it would take a day or two of no contact before they became suspicious. Perhaps I still had time before the police were alerted, and they came knocking at our door.
As I drove through Hampstead Garden Suburb, it occurred to me that it wasmyconnection to the village in the Dales that had brought Grace to me in the first place. Crowthorne Funeral Care had a branch in that very village, with its own crematorium. It made sense to incinerate Tom along with someone else, and disguise his ashes amongst theirs.
A plan was building in my mind as I pulled into the back of Crowthorne House, parking up on the gravel. The horses whinnied from the stables. Grace was roused from her sleep, blinking into the early morning light. She tipped her head back and sighed.
“Part of me hoped it was all a terrible dream,” she said sleepily. “But at least we’re home.”
I smiled, pride swelling in me to hear her describe my home asherhome. Soon enough, she would have legal entitlement to it all, when our marriage certificate bore the name Grace Emily Crowthorne.
“There’s something we need to discuss before we go inside, my love,” I began, watching the back of the house for movement as I spoke. Sure enough, I could see Margaret, moving around in the kitchen. The cleaning staff would arrive soon to restore the downstairs rooms to their usual state. There would be no funereal staff, mercifully, tointerrupt us over the holidays.
“What is it?” she asked with trepidation.
“First, let me do this,” I said, pulling her in for a kiss. She sighed against my lips. “Merry Christmas, Grace.”
She gasped.
“I’d completely forgotten! Merry Christmas, sir.”
Hungrily, I kissed her again. I held her face in my hands, caressing her sore cheek very delicately with my thumb.
“When the police pay us a visit, they’ll want to know what happened between you and Tom. You’re going to tell them that you rejected him in the lay-by, that he took you into the forest, and that I rescued you before he could hurt you. Besides, that much is true. I threatened him, and he vanished into the woods. We drove on to Heather House, where we spent the night, and then we drove home early to spend Christmas in Crowthorne House.” I told her, seeing the fear in her eyes as she realised it was a case of when, not if, the police came knocking.
“If you mention Heather House, they’ll go there. They’ll find him,” she said fearfully.
“He won’t be there,” I said. “I’ll have taken care of him by then.”
“But how?”
“Grace, I’m a funeral director. I know how to take care of a body.”
She smiled, just faintly, and I relaxed a little. In my periphery, a figure emerged from the back of the house, wandering forlornly in the garden. Rumpled and with her makeup smeared, Eugenie was still dressed in her evening-wear.
“Go and see to your friend,” I told Grace, gesturingat Eugenie in the distance. “Tell her the very same thing you’ll be telling the police. Tell her nothing of Tom’s fate. Remember, he ran into the forest, and that’s all – ”
“That’s all I know,” said Grace, finishing my sentence. “I’m not an idiot, sir. She’ll bolster my version of events if she’s questioned.”
“Whenshe’s questioned,” I said. “Now, I’ve some work to do. Will you be all right?”
“Right as rain,” she said, with a sleepy smile that made me want to whisk her upstairs immediately. I couldn’t, not now. There would be time for that once everything was in place. Only once my work was complete would I allow myself to relax.
I watched her hurry to Eugenie, who threw open her arms at the sight of her. They embraced, and walked arm-in-arm towards the graveyard, talking.
I knew Grace meant what she said, and that she would keep her word. There wasn’t any part of me that doubted her loyalty to me, especially now.
I left the car and trudged across the gravel to the stables, hoping I could resolve my dilemma before I collapsed from exhaustion. We’d do well, for appearance’s sake, to attempt to celebrate Christmas Day. But the body...I would still have to move the body, and fast.
A notification sounded on my phone, breaking my thought process. I snatched it from my pocket quite irritably and noticed it was an alert for a processed payment, today of all days, for a service. The payment had to have been made last night. I knew from the deposit amount alone that it was for a cremation, but it was the source of the payment that caught my eye. It was from thebranch in the Dales.
“Exemplary service,” I murmured. “I must remember to give everyone at that branch a raise.”
If they had taken payment, then the details of the service would be in the system. Hurrying back to the house, I made straight for the office, my heart beating wildly as I logged in and found the entry. The woman, Mavis O’Shaugnessy, had died at home in the early hours of Christmas Eve. A practical and stalwart woman, she wanted no frills, and no funeral. Only for her mortal remains to be cremated, and for her ashes to be scattered in the dales, where she took her morning walks.
It was clear to me, then, what I should do.
