Watching the Ghosts by Kate Ellis

hours, it had crossed Jack’s mind that Melanie might have set the whole thing up as a trick, a way to get her hands on the money. After all, he’d sunk everything they had, including everything she’d earned as a solicitor over the years, into his business ventures so perhaps this was her way of recouping what she thought he owed her. He thought back, examining in his mind every nuance of his marriage to Melanie, from the time he’d met her at a drinks party and decided to abandon his wife and children to be with her to the recent cooling of their relationship. She had begun to annoy him in so many ways, and Daisy’s presence hadn’t helped. Things had been difficult lately, especially once he’d become involved in the Boothgate House development. And of course there was Yolanda, although he didn’t think Melanie had any suspicions in that direction.
    He knew how much she begrudged his relationship with his children by his first wife. According to her, Daisy should have taken priority. But Daisy wasn’t his own flesh and blood – not like his own kids. He’d done his best to act the good stepfather but he wasn’t sure whether the act had been convincing. But was their marriage in such a parlous state that she would pull a stunt like this? And wouldn’t she have demanded more than ten grand?
    He had risen early after a night of fitful sleep and now he was in the kitchen sipping a strong coffee. After half an hour sitting there with the phone in his hand, trying her number every few minute, he rang Paul’s again but got no reply.
    Then, as he stared helplessly at the phone, he began to wonder whether he should call another number, one that Melanie had rung yesterday. She hadn’t kept the appointment with Emily Thwaite but at least the woman might be able to give him some guidance.
    But while he was still contemplating his options his phone began to ring. His heart pounded as he pressed the key with trembling fingers.
    It was a mechanized, robot voice, the voice he’d heard before. ‘Your wife didn’t turn up. But I’ll give you one more chance. I’ll call later with further instructions and if you pull another stunt like that you won’t see Daisy again.’
    Jack opened his mouth to explain. But the caller rang off before he could get the words out.
    Joe didn’t live far from Boothgate House. When he’d moved back to Eborby twelve years ago, he’d known the place simply as Havenby Hall, a derelict place of fear hidden behind high, soot-blackened walls. Most people in Eborby knew of it second-hand; the place where family members who were considered strange, over-nervous or downright antisocial vanished from sight, only to be spoken of in loud whispers by tactless aunts. In less enlightened times, but still within living memory, girls who transgressed the moral codes of the day had disappeared into the forbidding edifice, only to see the light of day again as pale elderly women, released blinking into the light of a brash modern day world where their supposed sins had become the norm.
    When he’d gone there to investigate the burglary last night he’d sensed an atmosphere of deep melancholy in the place in spite of its recent transformation. Or perhaps it had been his imagination. There had certainly been no hint of its former function as he’d walked into the entrance hall and stood admiring the twinkling central chandelier and the tasteful decor.
    It had been ten o’clock before he’d arrived home and there had been a message from Maddy waiting on his answering machine. She had asked how he was and for a few seconds he’d felt rather gratified that she still cared. He resolved to call her back . . . when he had the time.
    There’d also been a message from his sister reminding him of their mother’s imminent birthday – she’d sounded distant, almost businesslike, but things had never been the