Amanda Cadabra and The Hidden Depths by Holly Bell (best love novels of all time txt) 📕

the news came that he was dead … was she upset, do you think?’

‘She didn’t seem ... I don’t know, Amanda, Sam had become one of those people who always find a way to get what they want. I think he was just another means to an end, I’m afraid. She wasn’t always like that, you know. That dumb brunette, fashion-sheep act was just a façade. She was bright, had a retentive memory, she … didn’t need to do the things she did.’

‘I expect Sam made the best decisions she could at the time, Damian. And maybe she cared about all sorts of things more than she showed,’ Amanda suggested kindly, in spite of her own misgivings on that score.

Gibbs smiled at her gratefully. The inspector concluded,

‘Thank you, Mr Gibbs. You’ve taken us on a step further.’

‘Where are you then? I have been assured by …,’ Gibbs was switching back to his powerful business-magnate position, but Trelawney forestalled him.

‘I have only a few hours grace before an arrest must be made. So, if you’ll excuse me.’

‘Of course.’

As Gibbs left, the sergeant approached.

‘Baker, the very man,’ said Trelawney. ‘How quickly can you get me the file on the death of Ainsley Storridge, body found in Ecuador just over a year ago?’

‘I’m on it, sir.’

Amanda, before taking up the journal again, remarked,

‘So, the writer of this journal was Ainsley Storridge with whom Samantha had been involved. That gives us the connection between Samantha and the book. The book incriminates the guide. So … blackmail?’

‘Yes, but to do that she’d have to have known who the guide was. Let’s assume she did find out.’

‘So, she asked the guide to meet her in the stacks of Sunken Madley library to discuss terms?’

‘And it ended in murder.’

‘That leaves us with just two questions,’ said Amanda.

‘Who was the guide?’ supplied Trelawney.

‘And how did she know who they were?’

‘Someone who was in Ecuador at the time. Someone connected with Sunken Madley in some way. That would narrow it down significantly.’

‘No one you’ve interviewed in the village was there,’ Amanda pointed out.

‘Unless … someone is lying.’

Amanda returned to the journal and Trelawney dived into the file on Ainsley Storridge.

‘Baker, according to this file, Storridge’s phone was never found, but his laptop is in evidence storage. In Essex. We need it. He’ll have surely left some trace of the guide he hired. Ask Nikolaides to check, call or visit all of the suspects and ascertain if any of them has any connection with Ecuador. Especially the men: Ryan Ford, John Bailey-Farrell and Simon Lawley, any of the men, in fact.’

‘Just the ones at the library party?’

‘Every male who had any opportunity.’

‘Right you are, sir.’

Trelawney checked his watch.

‘Time. If only we had more time. There’s a chain here.’ He looked at the journal in Amanda’s hands. ‘If only this book could talk.’

There was a pause before she spoke quietly.

‘There may be a shortcut.’

He turned his head towards her, hopefully.

Amanda looked troubled but calm. ‘I didn’t want to do it. You see, some things have very bad ... feelings attached to them. And if I do this, I’ll experience them, as though whatever it is was happening to me.’ Trelawney was looking mystified. ‘Remember the furniture and things in the workshop? I showed you how objects can keep recordings of things that happened in the past and play them back? So anyone with the right level of sensitivity can see them?’

The inspector sat down beside her, and enquired softly, ‘You think the journal …?’

‘I don’t know how clear it would be. A lot of people have handled it, including you and your team … I couldn’t promise anything at all.’

‘If you’re willing to try, Miss Cadabra.’

‘All right. Not here,’ Amanda replied.

‘Back at your cottage?’

‘Yes.’ She was now resolute.

‘I don’t want to put you under pressure, Miss Cadabra, but could you do it now?’ Trelawney asked.

Amanda passed the journal to him to return to its evidence bag, and stood up. ‘Yes, let’s go.’

Chapter 38

Under the Covers

By the firelight only, they arranged themselves. Tempest, alert, placed himself beside Amanda on the sofa. Trelawney was sitting opposite with the tea tray on the table between them.

‘Are you ready, Miss Cadabra?’

‘Yes, Inspector. If you give it to me in its evidence envelope, please.’

He handed the journal across and she put in on her lap. Amanda got out her Pocket-wand. She felt awkward doing this in front of him and glanced up.

‘I’ll look at the fire,’ Trelawney offered understandingly.

‘Thank you.’

Amanda closed her eyes, began deep breathing, shutting out his presence, focusing only on what she must do. She needed more than a brief snatch of the journal’s past; she needed its entire history. It was deep magic and the first time she was attempting the spell. She opened her eyes and looking at the object on her lap pronounced.

‘Framth dallma dho ndwedha araferhi eodha reccwhel. Boclyv dho wme agertyn, eodha reccist alymdisquez wme.’

Amanda gave her wand the slightest flick then returned it to her pocket. Carefully, she reached into the plastic cover and took out the journal. She closed her eyes again just in time. It had already begun …

Machines pressing, rhythmic noise, light, dark, light, dark, thread flying up and down, more pressing …

‘Factory …’ murmured Amanda, trying to keep her consciousness separate from the book. ‘Into a … box.’ Dark … movement, plonked down, lifted up … light … a man … ‘On a shelf… in shop … little shop …’

Suddenly a voice:

‘Oh wow! How cool is that!’ Dark hair around a girl’s face. Being hugged to her chest. Feeling her glee. Through the air to the counter. Into gift wrap and paper carrier bag, crackle crinkle … journey … time passing …

A man’s laugh …

‘For me? You shouldn’t have, darling …’ Paper opens. A man’s face smiling. The sound of a kiss. ‘Oh, it’s marvellous! I promise to record every detail of my trip in this …’

A snug darkness followed … like sleep …. The man … a pencil writing