Page 5 of Blood Ties

He hesitated long enough for the answer to matter. “Not during the years I handled the account. She spoke to me by telephone and returned the declarations through her solicitor.”

“Did anyone else give you instructions on her behalf?”

“No. Your grandmother was very particular about that.”

That sounded like Edith.

“What about the grounds? Any signs of another vehicle or someone using the house between inspections?”

“We’d have reported it. The gate logs every entry code, and the cameras cover the drive and outbuildings. Nobody has permission to stay there.”

Permission wasn’t the same as proof.

“Can you send me the gate log and camera records for the last six months?”

“I’ll need authority from the executor.”

“Arthur Hargreaves will provide it. Please keep the recordings secure until he does.”

“Of course.”

I thanked him and ended the call.

The old key clicked against something inside my handbag.

I stayed in my chair.

The bag rested on the worktop several feet away. Nothing had touched it, and the metal box remained closed beside my laptop.

Another faint click came from under the leather.

I took my phone with me when I crossed the room. The key lay on top of Edith’s folded letter, its raven-shaped bow turned towards the north-facing window.

“If you’re trying to be helpful, you need to work on your delivery.”

The metal didn’t move again.

I photographed its position before lifting the letter out. The warning hadn’t improved since Arthur’s office.

Don’t sign anything Adrian Rook gives you.

Don’t let him take you under the house.

Above all, never let Adrian Rook place a crown on your head.

I searched his name.

The results gave me a property developer in London, a retired dentist and several men who had died before Edith was born. None had an obvious connection to Harrowmere. Adding the house produced auction listings for furniture sold decades ago and a planning application for repairs to an outbuilding. Adrian Rook appeared nowhere.

I searched company records, archived newspapers and the professional register Arthur belonged to. Nothing useful surfaced.

That didn’t mean Arthur had told the truth.

His reaction to the name had been immediate. He might not know Adrian personally, but he knew enough to be afraid of Edith’s warning.

I called him.

He answered before the first ring had finished. “Tell me you’re still at home.”