the rock-strewn hills towards Eldercliffe. Mum lived on its outskirts, so I knew the town a little. Its jumbled, narrow streets hunkered down in the base of the valley, as if defending themselves from the advancing quarries.
We headed away from the main town, up a lane so steep it made my ears pop. On the right was a farm and on the left was the rim of the quarry, the ground falling away behind it into nothingness. Just one house sat on the edge like an eagle’s nest – a cottage made from the same stone as the quarry, as if it had grown out of the rock.
‘That’s his house,’ Jai said. ‘Crazy place.’
‘Yeah, not somewhere to live if you suffer from suicidal thoughts.’ I immediately wished I hadn’t said that.
‘Wife’s a doctor,’ Jai said. ‘Kate Webster. Has she been told?’
I nodded. At least we didn’t have to do that. I pictured Hamilton’s face, lacerated by his own nails. How would you cope with knowing your husband’s last minutes were spent trying to claw his skin off?
We walked up to the cottage, and the door was flung open to reveal a small woman in jogging trousers. Her body was thin but her face was puffy as if it had been lightly inflated.
I showed her my card.
‘Oh, right. I’m Beth. Peter’s sister.’ She gestured us into a long hallway which smelt of beeswax and vanilla. The kind of place where they employed a cleaner.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said.
Beth gave a quick nod. ‘Kate’s in the living room. Go through. I’ll make some tea.’
We walked into a room dominated by a vast inglenook fireplace and a picture window overlooking the shocking drop into the quarry. The curtains were open to the darkening sky. Two squidgy sofas sat at right angles, one facing the fireplace and the other with its back to the window. There was space to walk around, unlike in my living room where you had to move around in a crab-like shuffle to avoid gouging your leg on the corner of something.
A slender woman stood by the window with her back to us.
‘Dr Webster,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’
She turned and gave us a cautious look. Her eyes were red but she looked delicate and composed in her grief, like a Victorian consumptive.
‘It must be a mistake.’ She took a couple of steps towards us. ‘Please tell me you’ve come because it’s a mistake.’
‘I’m sorry. We’ll need to formally identify him, but he had his driving licence on him. And he matched your description exactly.’
A tear dripped onto her T-shirt. ‘What the hell happened to him?’
‘Are you able to answer a few questions?’ I asked. Jai and I walked across the oak-boarded floor and sat on the sofa facing the fire. I hoped she’d follow our social cue. She didn’t.
‘How did he die?’
‘I’m afraid we don’t know yet. When did you last see him?’
She started pacing up and down by the window, shoulders hunched and arms crossed. ‘I saw him this morning. He was working from home which he always does on Mondays. It was all totally normal, for God’s sake. They say he was found in a cave or something?’
‘Yes, it’s about fifteen feet up, cut into the rock.’
‘What the hell was he doing in there? He’s supposed to have a quick walk to clear his head, not sit around for hours in a cave.’
‘We don’t know. Did you know about the place?’
‘I knew there was supposed to be a cave. The locals say it’s haunted. They’re a bit like that round here. They say our house… Oh, never mind.’
Beth returned with a tray of tea and digestive biscuits. She lowered it onto a rather splendid coffee table made from old painted floorboards, and sat down. Kate stepped across the room to sit next to her.
Jai took a mug of tea, got stuck into the biscuits, and made notes.
‘What were you saying about this house?’ I asked.
‘Oh, just that everyone said it was bad luck,’ Kate said. ‘That we shouldn’t come here. But we took no notice. How can a house bring bad luck? But now I’m thinking—’
‘Come on, Kate.’ Beth’s tone was sharp. ‘It’s terrible about Peter, but it’s not the house’s fault.’
‘But what about those other people? Before we moved here?’ Kate turned to us. ‘No one would buy the house. It had been empty for ages.’
Jai paused with his biscuit halfway to his mouth. ‘What happened to the other people?’
‘The man fell off the cliff outside, or threw himself off, no one knew. And then his daughter… Oh, it was horrible.’
‘It’s not relevant,’ Beth snapped. ‘We need to find who killed Peter.’
‘She was only fifteen,’ Kate said. ‘She went off to this horrendous underground cave system on the other side of the valley and killed herself. Everyone said the house was cursed, but we thought we were so clever, we were above all that. We got it cheap.’
‘I remember that,’ Jai said. ‘Section tried to get her out, but—’
‘It’s not relevant,’ Beth said. ‘Kate’s just upset. There’s nothing wrong with the house.’
I remembered Ben Pearson telling me about the girl he’d failed to rescue. ‘Was she the girl who hanged herself in the Labyrinth?’
‘Yes. It was awful. And the Victorian who originally built the house threw himself off the cliff.’ Kate sat forward on the sofa and spoke fast. ‘And other people have died here. Even Peter’s grandmother said there’s a curse. Something to do with witches. She said the spirits of the witches can push you off the cliff out there, so you shouldn’t get too close to the edge. Not that Beth takes any notice when she’s tending that horrendous rock garden.’
‘It’s bloody ridiculous,’ Beth snapped.
Kate turned to me. ‘Why do people who live here keep dying?’
Beth folded her arms. ‘My grandmother’s in the early stages of dementia. I can’t believe we’re talking about a ludicrous old wives’ tale when my brother’s just been killed!’
I made a note to talk to the grandmother. My ears always pricked when relatives laid into one another. They’d sometimes forget we were even there. Beth obviously hadn’t forgotten us though. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘This is all irrelevant. What do you need to know?’
I smiled at them both. ‘Do either of you know why he’d have gone in the cave house?’
‘He always liked caves,’ Beth said. ‘But I didn’t realise—’
‘Hang on.’ Kate stared right into my eyes. ‘Was someone else there
