Haverfall by-the-Sea: an Exposé Purposed for the London Herald

Monday, 4 August, 1930

Breaking News: BLACKMAILER DEAD Under MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES

Another death and another mystery at Haverfall by the Sea, a household already fraught with tragedy. Mr. Walter, groundskeeper, has been found dead at the bottom of a staircase in the south wing of the house, possessed of no clues but a single white glove in his breast pocket. While authorities have written off his demise as the latest in a series of unfortunate accidents (and seem uninterested in consulting with me, despite my considerable years as an investigative reporter) my own inquiries have lead me to conclude quite the opposite; that the death of the groundskeeper was nothing less than calculated murder.

Consider the facts: Mr. Walter, by all accounts an ineffectual gardener, nonetheless maintained his position at Haverfall for over thirty years. This is no doubt due to the fact that the man was engaged in blackmailing the family, an incident which my esteemed colleagues in other papers will have reported on extensively by now. What could the groundskeeper have known? Could there be a secret to Haverfall so dreadful that someone might kill to keep it silent? 

My first consideration was whether Mr. Walter might have discovered the identity of the late Lord Rathod’s killer, but I quickly abandoned the idea when it became clear that he had been blackmailing Lord Rathod himself, and wished to transfer this debt to the siblings. It can be divined by a closer look at the missing sums in the family's financial records that his blackmail had persisted for quite some time, years even. Though the Rathods deny that whatever facts their groundskeeper threatened to expose held any merit (the note detailing his threats and terms having been conveniently destroyed), this reporter finds it unlikely that Mr. Walter could have maintained his employment for so long if this were the case, much less that Lord Rathod would actually have yielded to his demands. The important point to consider is that the death of a blackmailer along with whatever secrets he held can only be seen as beneficial to the family, and comes at the precise moment in which he attempted to transfer his extortion to the three Rathod siblings.

Another crucial point which the authorities have failed to consider is the location of the “accident”.  Mr. Walter, by all accounts, was a highly superstitious man. He is very unlikely to have entered the south wing of the house during the month of August, owing to rumors of its haunting during that time. Though some accuse the groundskeeper of spreading these spook stories merely to neglect his work, I for one remain convinced of his sincerity. He only spoke to me of the ghost tales cryptically, but there was something almost like fear which overtook the smirk in his glance whenever he mentioned the evils of August, and the south wing, and the sea wall. Though he was given to wandering, the man would certainly not venture to the south part of the house without good cause. It is only surmise on my part, but I should not say an arranged meeting was out of the question; I can imagine him being persuaded to enter that secluded part of the house for an offer of payment, or perhaps information. 

While any supernatural interference is of course out of the question to the logically-minded, the fact that his death occurred on the first of August in the very location he feared seems a strange coincidence, and perhaps not without its own significance. Could the answer to Haverfall’s current woes be hidden among the rumors of its past? Could Walter’s blackmail somehow be mixed up in the man’s ideas about hauntings? I should not have thought it possible, save for a strange phenomenon; ever since my arrival at Haverfall I have attempted to discover the details behind the ghost stories, and ever since my arrival, I have been blocked at every turn. 

At first I took the haste to change the subject from ghosts as nothing more than an aversion to discussing so absurd a topic. But is it only my imagination, or am I met with a few too many worried glances, too many strained smiles? The Lord Ashwin merely laughs off my queries, Lady Mira without fail begins to chatter nervously about any unrelated topic, and the godson Ciaran only becomes melancholy and withdrawn when the subject is brought up. Lady Eileen I have only asked once, for she fixed me with a glare cold as the sea.  

If the family is reluctant to talk, the staff have been even more difficult to consult with; they are kept bustling about their tasks at an increasingly frenzied pace by Lady Eileen. The butler, Mr. Picton, is a man of few words and can scarcely be brought to spare any of them for me- not to speak of the maid, Ms. Anna, who I’m told works night shifts and who I have not yet figured how to align my schedule to encounter. However, I finally struck a piece of luck through Ms. Lisbeth, Haverfall’s cook. It seems Walter took a special interest in attempting to spook her, and as she is a recent addition to the staff it appears to be she alone out of all Haverfall who has no qualms in speaking what she’s learned of the ghost.

The story, as best as I can glean it, is this: some twelve years ago, during the month of August, a servant employed at Haverfall took an unfortunate misstep on some loose mason-work on the sea wall and fell to her death. Mr. Walter claimed that every year she returns, bemoaning her fate and spreading ill fortune to the house where she met her demise. What is curious, however, is that he seemed under the impression that she is not the only spirit haunting the place. He spoke of strange apparitions near the sea wall, unaccountable changes to the grounds, hollow wailing in the night. What any of this has to do with the south wing of the house I have yet to discover, but it does seem a place commonly neglected and avoided by all the family.

I have stated that I do not believe in ghosts, and I hold to that; all my investigations must remain firmly rooted in the realm of the possible, for surely the idea of an actual ghost is to be regarded as absurd.  Please bear this in mind, for there is another detail to the story, quite simple and natural, I am sure, that I feel compelled to mention. Mr. Walter claimed that when the servant girl was discovered missing a search was conducted for her for quite some time, to no avail. They only thought to check the rocks down below the sea wall and the cliff when they spotted something of hers washed ashore, white in the moonlight; a single glove.

Rest assured, dear readers, that my investigations shall continue.

Yours Faithfully,

Jonathan Northwind