The Haunted Pages

Chapter 6-1

In the driveway, when they got back, sat a little red sports car. Beside it with arms folded was Grüber. Daniel swallowed hard, and Dad gave a long drawn out sigh.

“That"s the guy from the reading of the will,” breathed Daniel. “Who is he, Dad?”

isDad didn"t reply, setting his jaw hard and gripping the steering wheel. He seemed angry, a look of fury on his face, and he flew out of the car and strode across the gravel driveway towards the big man.

Slowly Daniel got out and came around to the front of the car. The two men stood opposite each other, and he could clearly hear what they said.

“I told you,” Dad began before the man even had chance to breathe. “I"m not interested.”

“I have some more news, Mr. Stone. News that may go some way in changing your mind.”

“I don"t think so. Besides, your offer simply isn"t enough. Now, if you don"t mind …”

Grüber smiled. It seemed an alien gesture on such a stern face. “I can increase the offer, Mr. Stone. That is not a problem.”

Dad"s shoulders slumped and he looked down to his shoes, kicking at the pebbles there. “I don"t seem to be making you understand,” he looked up slowly. His voice was very low, but Daniel could tell his dad was close to the edge, barely able to control his anger. “I don"t want to sell.”

Grüber titled his great head, hands on hips. “That would be a mistake, Mr. Stone, as I"ve explained. You really have no choice, believe me.”

“I have every choice. This castle was left to us,” he snapped his head around towards Daniel. “Daniel"s Gran made everything very clear in her will. You were there, so you know what she said.”

us,“I know what she didn"t say, Mr. Stone. The truth.”

didn"tDaniel held his breath, sure something awful was about to happen. Gran hadn"t told the truth? What truth?

Before he could think anything more, the great doors of the castle crashed open and Herr Müller came out. He paused for a moment, assessing the situation, then came down the steps two at a time. As the manservant drew closer, Grüber stepped away from his car, his whole demeanor changing. He visibly tensed. He frowned deeply as Müller stood before him. The manservant looked from Daniel, to Dad, and then finally to Grüber before saying, “You have a problem, Herr Stone?”

Grüber snorted, ignored the manservant and gave Dad an icy look. “Don"t make the mistake of ignoring my offer, Mr. Stone.”

Daniel instinctively huddled up close to his dad, who put a reassuring arm around his son"s shoulder. Dad"s voice sounded very calm. “Is that a threat?”

The big man shrugged.

“Tell you what I"ll do,” said Dad, looking around him. “I"ll inform the police of your little visit, if you like, and instruct them to arrest you if you ever set foot on my land again.” He paused, eyes turning towards Grüber"s. “You understand?”

If the words had meant to unsettle Grüber, then they had failed. The big man smiled without humor, “Your land, Herr Stone? Are you sure about that?”

Your“Get off my property.”

Daniel trembled as the tension mounted. Müller spoke then, his voice as cold as a winter"s morning. “You have been told. Leave now.”

Grüber scanned Müller from head to toe, then gave a disdainful chuckle. “Don"t even think about it,” he said.

The manservant merely smiled. “You might be surprised.”

Like two gunfighters, they measured one another. Grüber said something in German, to which Müller also replied in his native tongue. Daniel didn"t have a clue what they said, but he guessed that it wasn"t anything gracious.

Grüber turned and squeezed his considerable bulk inside his little car. Just before he drove off, he wound down the window and looked up at Dad. “I"ll be in touch.”

“If you do, I"ll have you arrested.”

The big man showed no emotion, gunned the car out of the drive and disappeared down the road.

Müller sighed deeply, “I am sorry, Herr Stone. He did not call at the house, only waited here for you to arrive.” He frowned, as if a thought had suddenly come into his mind, “He seemed to know you would not be at home.”

Daniel slowly stepped away from his dad and watched the little car moving away into the distance, wanting to make sure it didn"t turn around and come back. The thought of Grüber and what he had said confused and frightened him. Grüber talked about an "offer"; that could only mean he wanted the house. But why? Why did he think he had any right to arrive like this, making his demands? Daniel wanted to ask Dad what all of it meant, but before he could, his dad looked over to Müller and said, “I doubt we"ll see him again, but if we do, please do as I said and inform the police.”

“Certainly, Herr Stone.” Müller bowed his head slightly, and Dad steered Daniel towards the still open door of the castle. “Oh, forgive me, but there was a telephone call earlier. You are to have another visitor later this evening.”

Dad stopped. “Oh. Who is that?”

“Meester Spencer. He will be arriving at around eight, I understand.”

MeesterDad nodded, chewing his lip. Daniel could feel him tensing up again. He knew his Dad was becoming increasingly stressed, that he had been struggling to keep himself under control. Daniel was old enough to appreciate how any form of addiction, be it smoking or drugs or – in Dad"s case, drink–was very difficult to shake. He"d had lessons about it at school. He knew Dad wasn"t an alcoholic—he didn"t fit the pattern. No cravings, no waking up in the morning demanding a drink. But that didn"t mean he never wanted to escape and find solace at the bottom of a bottle of whisky. To actually see this, to experience it close up, made everything so much more difficult. He pressed himself against Dad"s arm. “It"ll be okay, Dad. We"re going to be happy here.”

Dad smiled down at him and for a second it looked as though he might become overly emotional. But the moment passed, and Dad guided Daniel into the castle without another word.

Daniel"s bedroom looked different during the day, the sunlight having chased all the demons away. He still hadn"t spoken to his Dad about the strange, animal-like noises he had heard in the night. Daniel didn"t really know how to begin. It all sounded so improbable as he repeated the words in his head. Animal noises, coming out of a fireplace? He laughed out loud, chiding himself for being so foolish. It must have been my imagination. He stooped down, peering into the open grate, so cold looking, swept clean, empty, years since it was last lit. Perhaps that was why something had got itself stuck in there. Was that the answer, he wondered. He took a breath, put his head inside and listened.

Animal noises, coming out of a fireplaceIt must have been my imagination.Nothing, as he expected. He pushed his head further in and peered up into the black chimney.

“Master Daniel.”

Daniel jumped at the unexpected voice, cracking his head on the rim of the chimney; a cloud of choking black soot enveloped him, dislodged when he struck the side. He rubbed his head frantically as he pulled himself back into the room, soot all over his face.

“Oh, Master Daniel!” He coughed and spluttered, blinking his eyes to see Martha, the cook, looming over him, displeased. “Just look at you!” She helped Daniel to his feet. “You will need to shower now.”

Still rubbing his head, Daniel forced a smile. “Sorry. I was just …” If were being honest, he wasn"t sure what he"d "just" been doing, and he squirmed with embarrassment under her unwavering stare. He hoped another smile would be explanation enough.

Martha still didn"t look satisfied, her face stern. “Such a thing is so dirty.” Her speech sounded strange, awkward, as if she desperately wanted to find the right words. Completely understandable, of course, and Daniel wondered when – if ever – she got the chance to practice her English. “What is it you call it in English, that open hole to put in the woods?”

“Fireplace.”

“Ah. Good.” Her mouth turned down slightly at the corners, “But, tell me, what were you doing in there?”

Daniel shrugged, still holding his head. “Nothing, really. Just being nosy. I think I"ll go and have that shower now.”

Martha held his gaze, but didn"t say anything more. Daniel went out into the hallway, rubbing his head. He looked at his hand, black with soot, and he knew he must have looked like an i***t. Martha had said as much.

As he pondered this, he bumped into the gardener, who was in the hallway, absently wiping the dust from a painting that hung on the wall. He didn"t stir or speak, but Daniel had a sudden, dreadful feeling that made his stomach turn to water. First Martha, in his room, now the gardener lingering around, spending too much time on his cleaning regime. Were they spying on him? He looked at the gardener for any clue that this could be the case, but the man seemed preoccupied, perhaps concentrating just a little too much. As he padded towards the bathroom, Daniel"s confusion overwhelmed him. Worry seeped in with that confusion. Why had Martha come into his room?

Later Daniel made his way downstairs, to another part of the house that he hadn"t had time to explore before, the lower floor. He"d made a decision as he stood under the shower, letting the water wash away not only the soot from his hair, but also the fog from his brain. He wanted answers that would explain away his fear. Why were they watching him? What lurked within that chimney? And, if not there, could the other consideration be true – the chimney acted as an amplifier, funneling sound from the basement? He had to find out, so he padded along the corridor, which led to the kitchen. As he did, the sound of muffled voices came closer. With each step, his heartbeat increased. Nervously, he stepped up to the open doorway.

Martha, the cook, sat at a huge, well-scrubbed table, sipping at a mug of hot, steaming drinking-chocolate. At the opposite end, reclined a girl of about eighteen, who looked up with wide eyes as Daniel wandered in. She smiled and stood up. “You must be Master Daniel,” she said.

All of Daniel"s fears and concerns simply melted away as he studied her, mesmerized. Loose ringlets tumbled down to her bare shoulders, tanned like the rest of her smooth, olive skin, which seemed to shimmer softly. Her face took most of his attention, and he found himself drawn deep into her large, hazel eyes. She was stunning.

“Hello, Master Daniel,” said Martha, getting to her feet and crossing over to an enormous range, where a steaming pot of hot chocolate simmered. “You would like a nice, warm drink?”

“Yes, please,” he said hopefully, not taking his gaze from the girl, who was still smiling. He swallowed hard. “Hello,” he said and instantly regretted it – his voice sounded brittle, awkward.