Murder Most Remote Read online

  “Erm, excuse me, sir?” A man with wild curly hair called.

  “They’re all American.” Sandy whispered to Tom, who looked at her and nodded.

  “Questions at the end!” The guide called.

  “You haven’t told us your name, sir.” The curly-haired man said.

  The guide turned back to them with a grin. “Ah, how silly of me. I’m Graeme O’Connell, tour guide extraordinaire.”

  “Ooh!” The older woman said. She met Sandy’s gaze and flashed a smile, revealing a spot of red lipstick on her front tooth. “Don’t y’all worry about being late, now, we won’t hold it against you.”

  “Mother.” A man in a floral shirt said under his breath.

  “Here we go, I’m in trouble again.” The woman said. She rolled her eyes in Sandy’s direction and Sandy grinned at her.

  The American group appeared to be headed by the older woman, the matriarch. Her three sons were all different - the floral-shirt man appeared artistic, the second had the curly hair, and the third was as bald as Graeme O’Connell. But their bone structure made it obvious they were brothers. Two appeared to have wives, and there were two teenagers, the pixie-haired girl and a boy who looked so All-American he could have just walked in from baseball practice.

  Sandy and Tom walked behind them, trying not to listen to the hushed conversations they were trying to hide from the tour guide.

  Graeme lead them into the castle through a grand wooden door.

  “Would ya look at this, isn’t it swell?” The floral-shirt man exclaimed as he placed his hand over his mouth. He turned to look at Sandy then and his cheeks grew pink. “Where are my manners? I’m Teddy, pleased to meet y’all.”

  “Oh!” Sandy said in surprise. It hadn’t occurred to her to exchange pleasantries with the other group members. “I’m Sandy, and this is Tom.”

  Tom smiled at Teddy. “You don’t get things like this over in the States, huh?”

  “The oldest thing in my city is probably a Starbucks!” Teddy said and roared with laughter. A woman with plumped-up lips and eyebrows that sat unnaturally high on her face gave an unreadable expression towards him. “And oh, my lovely wife, Priscilla.”

  Sandy smiled in the woman’s direction, then turned her attention to the grand passageway they had entered. The interior was grey stone, with a row of arches along one side, and a grand staircase up ahead. It was breathtaking.

  “Mull Castle dates back to 1927.” Graeme O’Connell explained. “It was…”

  “1927?” Tom queried. “I’ve got living relatives older than that.”

  “Ah, just testing.” Graeme gushed. “Glad you’re paying attention. Mull Castle dates back to 1727. It was first home to Lady Margaret of Mull. The staircase, as you’ll see, dominates this area and was intended to allow Lady Margaret to make a grand entrance.”

  “Sounds like you, Priscilla.” The older woman heading the family called.

  Priscilla attempted to frown but her forehead refused to crease.

  “Mother, really.” The man with curly hair muttered. He was standing next to the teenage boy, who appeared to be trying hard to keep his eyes open.

  “Eli, how refreshing for a man to defend a lady’s honour.” Priscilla spat as she glared at her husband. Teddy avoided her gaze and flashed a sweet smile at his mother instead.

  “We’ll move on.” Graeme said. He seemed to be unaware of the trouble in his camp. He led them past the stone arches into a long, empty room. A small window stood at the far end and the room was lit by fires along the length of the space.

  “What was this room for?” Tom asked. Sandy gave his hand a squeeze, touched by his curiosity.

  Graeme spun on his heels and made dramatic eye contact with Tom. “This is the space where Lady Margaret’s spirit returns to chase tour parties like ours out of her castle.”

  “Hmm.” Tom said. “I more meant what was it used for when she was alive?”

  Graeme sighed. “We don’t know.”

  Sandy stifled a giggle.

  “Sir, do you think we’ll see a ghost today?” Teddy in his floral shirt asked.

  “There’s every chance we will, yes.” Graeme replied.

  “And what’s the procedure if we do?” The older woman asked.

  “Marlene, please.” The other woman, whose hair was in a pixie cut like the teenage girl’s, and whose attention had been on her smart phone up to then, said through gritted teeth. “Don’t scare the children.”

  The teenage boy rolled his eyes at the suggestion he was a child.

  “Devon, we need to be prepared.” Marlene replied. “So, Graeme, what should we do if we hear any bumps or shrieks or whatever?”

  “Well.” Graeme said. He was at the point furthest away from the various fires and his expression was hard to read. “We’re the only people in the castle today. So if you hear anything at all, my advice would be to stay together. Or run. Whichever you prefer.”

  “Stay together or run. Do you hear that everyone? You two at the back, did you hear that?” Marlene called.

  “Yes, thank you. Stay together or run, got it.” Tom replied. He flashed an easy smile in Marlene’s direction.

  “Do you think this could have been a room for eating?” Teddy asked.

  “No, we’ll come to the banquet hall shortly.” Graeme said. He continued to stand still, and Tom and Sandy walked away from the group slightly to explore the room. The stonework was immaculate, the details of the shape along the walls so intricate it would challenge a modern day stonemason.

  “Are you enjoying this?” Sandy asked.

  “God yeah.” Tom admitted. “It’s like being five years old again and playing dungeons and dragons. Can you imagine the things that have happened in here?”

  “Well, not with the tour guide we’ve got, no.” Sandy said with a laugh.

  “He’s clueless, isn’t he? 1927!”

  “Are you asking him questions just to see him panic and make things up?” Sandy asked.

  A glint appeared in Tom’s eyes. “I hadn’t been, no, but that’s a good idea.”

  They returned to the group, who hadn’t moved. Teddy stood arm in arm with Marlene while his wife Priscilla stood with her arms crossed a few feet away.

  “And on we must continue, we have many rooms to visit.” Graeme said. He led the party through the rest of the long space and into a bedroom, complete with a four-poster bed draped in heavy material. A wooden chaise longue sat at the far end of the room, next to a roaring open fireplace. A portrait of a young woman with sad eyes, dressed in furs, hung from the wall over the fireplace.

  “Ooh, is that her? The Princess?” Teddy asked.

  “Lady Margaret of Mull.” Graeme corrected. “There’s never been a princess here.”

  “Oh. It says Princess Murdina in the corner.” Teddy said.

  Graeme proffered a false smile towards Teddy. “It was incredibly dangerous for a woman to live alone back then. A Princess is assumed to have a Prince, or a King, to protect her. Lady Margaret used many aliases to ensure her safety.”

  “That one almost sounds believable,” Tom whispered in Sandy’s ear.

  “Erm, Graeme,” Sandy called. “are you Scottish?”

  The man appeared stunned by her question. “Of course I’m not. Do I sound Scottish?”

  “No, you don’t actually… I just wondered. With all your knowledge. I wondered if you might be a distant relative, perhaps.”

  “I can assure you there’s no Scottish in me at all.” Graeme mumbled. “Now, if we can stay focused on the tour. This is of course the master bedroom. Although it was a mistress who slept here. This is almost identical to how it would have looked when Lady Margaret herself was in residence.”

  “It’s so fancy!” Marlene gushed. “What do you think Trixie?”

  The teenage girl wrinkled her nose. “Dark.”

  “Well of course, there’s no electricity!”

  “There is electricity in some parts of the castle.” Grae
me said. “We keep these smaller rooms lit by fire as they would have been originally, but the current owner of the castle modernised it considerably. There’s running water, electricity, even WiFi and a toilet.”

  “Who is the owner now?” The curly-haired man, Eli, asked.

  “We’re not allowed to disclose his name. He’s a very wealthy businessman. He bought the castle to restore it.”

  “Impressive.” Eli said.

  “Always the business man, dad.” The teenage boy said with an eye roll.

  Eli shrugged his shoulders. “Someone has to look after the numbers.”

  “You know mom opened a savings account for me.” The teenage son said.

  Eli gave a tight smile. “That’s great champ. You’ll have to give me the details so I can put some money in there for you too.”

  The boy grinned. “Really? That’s great dad, I mean I don’t have the details but mom could give them to you. You could ask her.”

  Eli nodded his head once but made no further comment. The boy’s smile retreated.

  “Would Lady Margaret have kept the fire on all day and night?” Priscilla asked.

  “Oh yes. It wasn’t just the lighting, remember, it was the heat source.”

  “But she had slaves to do that?”

  “Servants, yes. We expect she would have had at least 10 servants. There are enough bedrooms for them all to have lived here.”

  “She’d have let her slaves live with her?” Priscilla asked.

  “For goodness sake, Priscilla, stop saying slaves.” Marlene barked at her. “You’re giving Americans a bad name.”

  Sandy glanced at Tom, who was trying to keep a straight face.

  “We’re not all like that, I promise.” Marlene called through the small crowd to Sandy and Tom. “In our history, you probably don’t know about US history, but we have an awful history with slaves. Not us personally, of course, but the Deep South has some sins to be forgiven for.”

  “Amen.” Trixie said. She had the look of a girl with a strong moral compass.

  “Please, don’t worry about us.” Sandy explained. “We’re enjoying a rare day away from work, somewhere nice and quiet.”

  “Quiet? Ha! And then you met us.” Teddy said.

  Sandy flinched as Marlene licked the tip of her finger, gazed at her son, and rubbed at his cheek.

  5

  “And here, is the grand banquet hall.” Graeme said with a flourish. The space was cavernous and lit by modern chandeliers. Three fireplaces were empty and unlit. The hall was filled with a table big enough to seat at least 50 people, and a display case ran along the length of one wall, filled with various objects. “This really is the highlight of this tour, and we’ll spend some time in here. Please, feel free to move around and look. Do not try to sit at the table and don’t touch anything on the table or in the case.”

  “What are all these things?” Marlene asked as she looked at the display case.

  “They’re things gathered from the time period of Lady Margaret. Some of the items belonged to Lady Margaret herself, such as the hairbrush and trinket box. They’re very valuable.”

  “Can we take pictures?” Teddy asked.

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Graeme said. “No pictures. But please enjoy having a look around, and do ask any questions.”

  “What did Lady Margaret eat?” Trixie asked.

  “Deer.” Graeme said.

  “Deer?” Trixie repeated. “Like, Bambi, deer?”

  “And hog. Wild hog was popular. Deer was a delicacy. If the hunters could catch it, it would be the centrepiece of a dinner party.”

  “Jeff, didn’t you serve deer last Thanksgiving?” Marlene asked her third son, the bald man who had remained silent so far.

  “I doubt it.” He said.

  “We definitely didn’t serve deer, Marlene.” Devon, with the pixie cut, said.

  “I think you did. It was definitely deer.”

  “You told me it was tofurkey, mom.” Trixie whined.

  “It was tofurkey, Trix.”

  “What on Earth is tofurkey?” Marlene asked. “Did you know about this, Jeff?”

  “I know nothing about tofurkey.” He said.

  “I can’t believe you made me eat deer.” Trixie muttered.

  “Geeze, Jeff, you know damn well it was tofurkey. We just told your mom it was turkey.”

  “Deer.” Marlene corrected.

  “Nobody mentioned deer!” Devon exclaimed. She saw Sandy watching her and gave an embarrassed smile, then returned her attention to her smart phone. She punched in a number, placed the phone to her ear, then cursed under her breath. “No signal, great.”

  “You need to make a call?” Jeff asked.

  “I have a conference call. I told you I couldn’t be here.”

  “But we all appreciate you making the effort, doll.” Marlene said. “You have to stop work sometimes.”

  “I do stop work, like all the time. But the lab’s right on the brink of something big. I should be there.”

  “You’ll be home tomorrow.” Jeff placated. “And me and Trixie love having you with us, don’t we Trix?”

  Trixie nodded.

  Devon smiled at her daughter and pulled her in for a hug, then lead her towards the display case, leaving Tom and Sandy alone in front of the large table.

  “These Yanks are a hoot.” Tom whispered.

  “I don’t know, I think it’s nice.” Sandy said. “All of the family interactions, I don’t have that. It must be nice to have relatives to annoy you.”

  “You’ve got Coral?” Tom quipped.

  “She doesn’t annoy me, though, not really. When you don’t have many relatives, you can’t really risk being annoyed by the one you do have.”

  “I get that.” Tom said. “But this family are crazy. The one with all the plastic surgery?”

  “Priscilla.”

  “See! You know their names!” Tom laughed. “Priscilla, okay, she hates the mother-in-law!”

  “Really?” Sandy asked.

  “Botox Face’s husband is more of a mummy’s boy than a husband. The two of them are walking around arm in arm while she’s off scowling - except she can’t scowl - on her own. It’s comedy gold. Makes me think my family are normal.”

  Sandy shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I thought you were here for the castle experience, not the gossip.”

  “I get distracted easily.” Tom said, with a laugh.

  And then, the room went black.

  A female let out a shriek.

  “Priscilla, calm down for God’s sake.” A man’s voice chided. “The power’s gone, that’s all.”

  “Everyone stay calm.” Graeme’s English accent implored from across the darkness. “There’s a trip switch, I’ll stumble my way through the castle to find it.”

  “What shall we do?” Marlene’s Southern drawl had grown familiar to Sandy. “Should we follow you?”

  “No, no.” Graeme said. “You Americans sue people too quickly, I don’t want any of you walking into a wall and coming after my great wealth. Which amounts to around £25, if I’m honest. Just stay here. Stand still, please. I can’t have anything damaged. I should only be a few minutes.”

  Sandy felt a hand reach for hers in the darkness and hoped it was Tom’s. She wasn’t scared of the dark, but there was something eerie about being in such a cavernous room without even a single window to offer natural light. They really were in the pitch black.

  “You ok?” Tom whispered. He had reached over and tried to find her ear. The height difference meant he had actually whispered into the air a few inches above her head, so disoriented was he by the dark.

  “Just hoping that Lady Margaret’s ghost doesn’t choose now to visit.” Sandy admitted.

  “Do you believe in all that? Ghosts?” Tom asked. His voice was louder and the noise made Sandy jump.

  “Ghosts are very real, trust me.” A voice came. Sandy thought it was Priscilla. Her tone always seemed whiny. It was an unfor
tunate voice to have to live with.

  The conversation was disturbed by a noise, a whack of something falling to the floor. Then silence.

  “Be careful!” A male voice commanded. “We all need to stay still.”

  “Where is he? This is the worst tour ever.” The sulking tones of the teenage girl came.

  “Trix…” Devon’s voice chided.

  “Woooooooooo!” Tom called out by Sandy’s side. She elbowed him in the ribs.

  “You can cut out the ghost noises, Tom Nelson.” Sandy said. She gave out an awkward laugh, wishing that Graeme O’Connell would return with light.

  “Nelson?” Priscilla asked. It was impossible to tell whether she was standing directly in front of them, or off to one side, or even behind. “Are y’all related to the Nelsons of Nova Scotia?”

  “Erm…” Tom stumbled. “Not to my knowledge?”

  “Shame.” Priscilla said.

  Sandy turned her head to the left at the sight of a small light in the distance. A chill ran through her spine. “Tom, can you see that?”

  A circular light danced around in the distance, slowly growing in size as it grew closer. Sandy thought of the orbs that were often supposed to accompany the spirits when they visited, and felt her heart race. Despite losing her parents at such a young age, one of her biggest fears had always been that they might decide to visit her from whatever afterlife they had gone on to.

  She was torn between missing them desperately and being scared of ghostly forms.

  “Thank goodness.” Tom said, then raised his voice. “Looks like Graeme’s on his way back.”

  As the light continued to grow bigger, Sandy realised it was a torch, and took a deep breath. She realised that her hands had been shaking, and clutched Tom’s hand tighter. He gave her hand a squeeze and rubbed the palm with his thumb.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” Graeme called out. “It’s only the banquet hall that’s affected. I don’t know what’s happened, I can only apologise. I’ll use my trusty torch to highlight some of my favourite pieces in here, and then we can move on to the last rooms.”