The Chocolate Magic Cozy Mystery Box Set Books 1 to 7 Read online

Page 32


  “I know where that place is. It is past The Barrel and on the other side of town.” Sam said thanks and made a call to the number on the screen. The man on the other end of the phone sounded Irish, cheerful and helpful and said that if they brought a reasonable sized piece of the wood in the early morning, they could have the result by the end of the afternoon.

  “I’ll go up into the loft and see if I can find a piece to saw off,” Sam said and stood up.

  “What about the stream?” Magda asked.

  “Yes, let’s do that as well and then take the wood to this chap tomorrow.”

  “We can look at the ancestry site this afternoon.”

  “And maybe look at some of the stores tomorrow once we drop off the wood,” Magda added with a grin.

  “I think that I will have to talk to Ricky about a funeral because I am the only person that can arrange that. Patrick had no other close family,” Irene said with a sigh.

  “I can help,” Alison told her as they cleared away the breakfast and Sam went for the stepladder. The beams were easily accessible and where the end of it protruded, Sam took a fair-sized chunk off with the saw. He took another good look around the space and thought that he would buy a laser beam measuring device to work out the dimensions properly. He had several back at home, of course, but none on vacation with him.

  Then he and Magda pulled on rubber boots, took flashlights and left Alison and Irene planning the best way to approach the funeral. The well opening was becoming very familiar and they climbed down very easily. A quick look around the cave showed nothing different and they stood looking up in the direction from which the water flowed. Magda jumped as something moved and then smiled as Jezebelle appeared, walking daintily down the side of the stream on dry land.

  “Little minx,” she said and shone her flashlight onto the place where the cat was walking.

  “She must have an entrance uphill towards the house but away from the other buildings,” Sam observed and took a step in that direction. Magda followed carefully and the cat joined them. Sam found that the roof was getting lower and he had to bend down. It was still possible to walk if bent over and the stream was lower than the ground, but they only went a short distance when Jezebelle disappeared.

  “She’s left us,” Magda said. “I can feel a draft of air on my face.” They searched around and found a narrow channel that sloped up and away. “I guess that’s it. I wonder where it comes out.”

  “Magda,” Sam said with a suppressed excitement in his voice. “This is the edge of another building.”

  “What?” she answered and looked to where he was shining the light.

  “That,” he said, “if I am not mistaken, is the edge of an older house under the house that we know above ground.”

  “So, it must be older?” Magda queried and he agreed. He prodded at the stones packed underneath the piece of protruding wood and pointed out that it was a rough foundation.

  “There must have been a house on the site before even the oldest part of the cottage.” He shone the beam of light. “I am going back to the house for the saw.” He moved back the way they had come, and Magda followed. It seemed a bit weird to stay in the dark beside an underground stream waiting for him to come back.

  Sam ran back and explained to Alison that he was going for the saw leaving Magda to explain what they had found. Then he ran back and clambered down the well. Magda went back down in case he needed the light held and found him poking at the wood with a screwdriver. She took the light and he started to saw at the wood. Magda felt the pendant in her pocket shiver and a wind blew across her face.

  “Can you feel that?” she asked Sam and he said that he could, but he wasn’t stopping. The wind increased along with a roaring noise. It was extremely fierce, so Magda reached for the pendant in her pocket. She fumbled because one of her hands was holding the light but finally brought it out and shook off the little bag it was in. Sam was hanging on to the stonework with one hand to resist the force of the wind and it was a struggle.

  “Nearly there,” he grunted and kept sawing.

  When Magda held up the pendant, she felt it vibrate and could swear that there was a little glow from the crystal, but whatever it was, it did the trick. The wind died down immediately, and the noise faded away. Sam relaxed and took the last stroke to release a chunk of the wood into his hand.

  “Something definitely objected to that,” Magda said. “The pendant sent it away.”

  “Let’s get back out of here,” Sam said. They made their way back to daylight and closed the well.

  Alison and Irene looked at the damp piece of blackened wood that Sam had discovered.

  “You see, it is a shaped piece and not just a log. You can see the cuts the joiner made, and it fitted into another crossbar.”

  “You think there was another cottage here before this one?” Irene asked and Sam nodded.

  “I would really like to get this to the dendrochronologist today.”

  “Let’s go. I can show you where it is, and we can go to The Barrel for lunch,” Alison answered.

  “There is nothing more I can do about the funeral, but it is organized anyway,” Irene added.

  “So, a meal to cheer you up would be good,” Magda said. They made themselves ready in no time and drove away through the small town and out of the other side.

  It looked like they were going away from where anyone would have a laboratory but down a little country lane, they came to a gate. Sam jumped out to open it and Alison drove in. There was another gate and the fences were fairly strong. Finally, they reached a cluster of buildings.

  “Doesn’t look like a lab,” Sam said. The main building was a sort of large version of a wooden summer house with a veranda and there were four other structures that were definitely the sort of temporary offices that you find on building sites. There were a couple of people around who looked up and then went on working. Sam stepped out holding his precious wood wrapped in newspaper and carried in a burlap sack. He had wanted to avoid plastic wrappings in case it spoiled the surface.

  He stepped onto the veranda of the wooden building and a man opened the door with a smile and held out his hand to shake.

  “You must be Sam Barnes,” he said with a broad Irish accent. “Come in. Come in.” They all followed him inside and stopped in to gaze in awe at the gleaming equipment inside the shabby looking building. It was obviously worth a great deal of money and would maybe account for the fences, gates and security.

  “My pride and joy,” the man said and said he was Garth O’Neill. The man had short, black, curly hair, twinkling blue eyes and was just under six feet tall. His infectious description of the machines in front of them made them feel completely at home and he offered seats.

  “Tell me how I can help,” Garth asked. Sam unwrapped both pieces of wood, the one from underground as well as the loft piece.

  He explained about buying his aunt’s cottage and how they had been looking into the history.

  “As an architect and builder, I found what I thought were original beams in the loft and would like to date them -- but this piece,” he paused, “I think is much older and is from foundations that were under the existing house.”

  “Oh, My Lord,” Garth breathed as he took the older piece in his hands. “This is fabulous. He went over to the desk and spoke into a microphone. “Jessie can you come in here please?” He introduced Jessie. “My wife and partner,” he added to the others as Jessie came in to find out what was happening. He briefly explained and Jessie took the wood from his hands. She looked at the wood, at Garth and at the visitors.

  “This is a special piece,” she almost whispered. “It could be centuries old. Where is it from?” They gave her an outline.

  “You have brought enough for us to drill out a section. That is good,” Garth told Sam. He looked at them. “We keep everything we see very confidential because we deal with archaeologists and protected sites. If we start today, we could have your dates by thi
s time tomorrow.” He fastened the wood into a clamp on a workbench and took out a long cylinder drill. They watched as he drilled into the wood. Then he stopped as the table shook a little bit. He started again and the same thing happened. Magda felt the shiver in her pocket and knew what was happening as a breeze from nowhere rushed around the enclosed space. There were no doors or windows open.

  Magda drew out the pendant and held it above the wood. The breeze dropped and the table was still.

  “Drill again now,” she said, and Garth went ahead. Nothing disturbed the action and he pulled out a section that was lifted from the drill. He and Jessie looked at it with a magnifying glass. Then he looked up.

  “Explain,” he said to Magda. “It will stay between these walls.” They all sat as Magda and Sam talked about the history of the cottage and the séance. When he heard about Sam’s scratch marks, he glanced at Jessie.

  “You are scientists,” Sam added. “It is not something that we can prove.” Jessie smiled and looked at her husband who gave a slight nod.

  “We just had a holiday for two weeks in Cuba. It was wonderful and a break we needed but we saw some inexplicable events with our friend who lives there,” she paused, “and one of them was that marks appeared on people who were taking part in voodoo rituals.”

  “So, it does happen,” Garth added. “I believe your story.”

  “Can I see the pendant?” Jessie asked and held it in her hand. “Definitely crystal that was fused with the rock when the mountains were created millions of years ago. I wonder how many people have owned this over the years.”

  “It only seems to work for certain people,” Alison added. “My husband gave it to me as a family heirloom but there was no reaction at all. As soon as Magda held it, it glowed.”

  “Wow!” Jessie said.

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  “We will drill the other piece while you are here,” she added, and they set up the clamp and drill again. There was no reaction this time. The room stayed calm and the sample came out of the wood intact.

  “We will not have to disturb the wood again, so we should be okay to work on both samples.”

  “Should I call in the morning?” Sam asked and received an affirmative answer. They left the two scientists preparing to immediately start their investigation.

  “Well that was quite frightening,” Irene said as they drove away.

  “Lunch,” Alison answered cheerfully, “will make us forget it.”

  The Barrel was busy as usual, and the food looked amazing. They selected from what was on offer and carried their plates into the far room and found a table. Irene and Alison both waved and spoke to people and one or two came over to say how sorry they were.

  “Three days’ time is the funeral and you are most welcome,” Irene told the Cartys who had been in the pub when they arrived. The lady with the purple hair and all the jewelry was called Dinah. She said they would be glad to attend and told Magda how she loved the color of her hair.

  “Silver chrome plum,” Magda said. “Strange name but I like it.” The woman laughed.

  “The women who marry into the Carty clan are the ones who keep them interesting.”

  “I guess I am inheriting the Carty cottage through marriage,” Magda answered. “Sam is going to make the loft into an apartment - it’s what he does,” she added.

  “Tourism is booming here,” Dinah said. “Wise move. Lots of people have done well since the place has been peaceful. Jerry was second cousin to Patrick, I think.”

  “We are going to look up the family tree later. Maybe we will come across Jerry’s ancestors as well. Americans love anything Irish,” Magda told her and explained about her Irish themed truffles.

  “They sound wonderful,” Dinah said, and they chattered on about chocolate and all of the coffees that were in fashion these days. Jerry and Sam were deep in conversation about design because Sam had discovered Jerry was actually an artist that he had heard about and whose work was well known.

  On the way to Kilkenny, he told the others about Jerry’s reputation that was known in America but apparently not recognized by his local folk.

  “His work sells for thousands,” Sam said. “He spends months building up pictures from minute multicolored dots. He also seems to be a bit of a computer wizard. Left me feeling like I knew nothing. His work is very hi-tech.”

  “They never say anything about his work locally. He is just the artist who lives on the hill,” Irene remarked. “Fancy that.”

  “He must be worth a bit,” Alison said. “The house is quite large, and she spends like there was no tomorrow.” Magda laughed and added that she quickly liked the woman. Sam added that the pendant vibrated when she was talking with Dinah Carty.

  They arrived at the small stores that Magda found fascinating the other day. They gravitated towards Barbara’s crystals and decided to tell her about the encounter beside the stream.

  “Stranger and stranger,” Barbara said. “I’ll contact Jenni and see if we can arrange another séance. I wonder if we would get anything beside the stream.”

  “Whoever the bad spirit is, he didn’t like Sam touching the old foundations and wood.”

  “We should know tomorrow exactly how old the first cottage was,” Sam told her.

  “And we have the funeral two days after that,” Alison added.

  “So, the day before the funeral is the best bet,” Barbara said, and they all agreed. “I’ll see Jenni if you can call Jonno and Branna.”

  The four shoppers wound their way back to the car with bags that Magda had managed to fill. She denied that she just loved spending and told them that she had to take genuine Irish gifts back for everyone at the café.

  It was good to get back to the cottage. Irene went to her room to call some more people about the funeral. Magda and Sam settled in with coffee and tablets to start looking for the family tree. Alison gave them Padraig’s parents and grandparents names and they sat quietly scrolling through countless pages of scrawled writing that was quite hard to understand. Sam stretched and rubbed his eyes.

  “You can go back a long way. Padraig’s grandfather had the cottage given to him by an uncle. There’s the uncle’s father, and the wives and daughters are named, but there is no Belinda to be found anywhere.”

  “There are lots of folklore stories about her but no actual facts. Maybe it is all just superstition and fairy tales,” Magda added. They went back to studying to see what else they could find. Magda actually discovered that Jerry, the artist, was indeed a second cousin but to Padraig and not to the deceased Patrick. She tapped the screen.

  “I’ll print this off. Dinah will be interested. Jerry is definitely related to Padraig and his ancestors were probably in the cottage at some point.”

  “So, who was Patrick descended from?” Alison asked and popped in to ask Irene if she could remember her in-laws’ names. The names were put in and the search went on. Eventually they had such tired eyes that they gave up and printed off what they had found so far.

  Irene came out to join them for a final late-night hot chocolate and looked at the papers.

  “So, you are related to Dinah and Jerry. That is quite interesting.” She tried to work out the relationship but gave up.

  “Just say second cousin,” Sam suggested. “Your family and Col’s family are recorded. The grandparents and great grandparents would remember the stories about the altar being stolen.”

  “But Padraig’s family are separate and that is what we wanted to find out,” Magda added. “Still, there is always tomorrow. I can’t wait until midday to find out the date on the wood.”

  Curled up in Sam’s arms in the big double bed, Magda whispered that she was glad that Padraig’s family was only connected in a roundabout way to the mischief and bad spirits. “They have to be connected or he wouldn’t have inherited the cottage. I guess Patrick’s line would eventually join up at some point. The Cartys must all come from the same original clan or family.

  “It sort of ke
eps the place more ours than anyone else’s.”

  “The nasty entity might change your mind about the cottage at the séance,” he told her and kissed the back of her neck.

  “Not a chance! I love it.”

  The morning was a wet one and they spent some time on the internet again, drinking coffee and staying dry inside. Jezebelle also had decided it was unpleasant outside and sat on Magda’s knee. A knock on the door midway through the morning brought in the inspector with the papers found at Irene’s house.

  “Mrs. Carty, we’ve finished with these and we have copies. The date on the documents proved to be correct and we are still searching for connections to your husband but sadly, we are not much further forward.”

  “The neighbor reported a black car,” Sam said. “Did anything come of that?” The policeman shook his head.

  “We will still continue to pursue this as a murder enquiry, and I will let you know when we make some progress. We do have a small amount of DNA and in the end, it might give us the match we need.” He came over to where Jezebelle had stood up to look at him.

  “I like cats,” he said and held out a hand. Jezebelle gave a haughty sniff and stalked away. The policeman laughed and said that was typical of cats.

  “Ah, but she didn’t hiss at you and that means you were acceptable,” Alison told him as he made for the door.

  When he had gone, Sam checked his watch.

  “Time to call the dendrochronologist?” he asked, and Magda nodded and sat watching as he put in the number. There were a few pleasantries, then Sam waited and listened as the man on the other end explained what he had done.

  “Say that again please,” Sam said and picked up a pencil and paper. He scrawled some notes and grinned like a schoolboy as O’Neil rang off.