As Lady Serena didn’t respond at all, Oliver added, ‘Our garden historian who wrote up the article about the goblet?’
‘Actually, I didn’t know who he was when I had the altercation with him at the B&B. He was rude to me, and I told him to be a little more civilized. Nothing special.’
Lady Serena flashed a charming little smile. ‘I’m going to buy myself something to eat. I’m starving.’
‘You’ll have to starve a little longer,’ Oliver said unceremoniously, unfolding the printed-off photographs. ‘If you just met Mr Vex out here for the very first time, I’d like to know how you were photographed with him at several society events a few months ago, with the by-line even mentioning he is your … boyfriend?’
Lady Serena flushed. She glanced at the photographs.
Oliver said, ‘He’s called by a different name here, but it’s our Mr Vex, right? I’m sure that if you don’t want to confirm it, the police have ways of establishing that I’m right. Comparison of facial features?’
Lady Serena looked him over. ‘You have a nerve.’
‘A man died here, and a fortune in stones is missing. I don’t think you can afford to be indignant.’
‘I don’t owe you an explanation either.’
Oliver looked at her. ‘No, you’re right about that, but…’ He turned his head to stare, with intent, across the water. ‘Do I see a boat coming already? LeFevre and his team ready to search for the stones? They’ll be here any minute. I’ll welcome them to Cornisea and hand LeFevre these shots. I think he won’t dismiss them as casually as you just did.’
‘Very well,’ Lady Serena said. ‘It’ll all come out now anyway.’
She took a deep breath. ‘Mr Vex, if that’s his real name, came into my life with lies. Nothing but lies. He pretended to be the son of a magnate and to move in the same circles as I do. He had done his homework, for we talked about several people he claimed to know and everything he said about them was right. I didn’t doubt for a moment that he was who he claimed to be. After a few meetings, he started about my family’s unhappy history with the goblet of Rose and Stars. He pretended to know more about it, but he wanted me to prove to him first that my family was entitled to it. I was stupid enough to give him details.’
She gestured with her delicate hands. ‘I wanted to prove that my family was indeed entitled to it and bring it back. But Vex was just using me to learn more about the goblet. To work it into his stupid article. As soon as he had all he wanted, he turned his back on me.’
She threw a hate-filled look at the photos. ‘The tabloids wrote about us as if we had a love affair. But it was never that. We simply attended a few parties together. That was all.’
Guinevere said thoughtfully, ‘You seem very upset about his behaviour if it was just a few parties.’
‘I don’t like to be lied to.’ Lady Serena looked her over. ‘In fact, I think I’m quite happy you two discovered this. If you deliver those photos to the police, they will understand what Mr Vex is and they might arrest him. I would love to see him squirm for a change.’
Oliver hitched a brow at her. ‘Didn’t you tell the police about his impersonation when you were at the station for your statement this morning?’
‘No.’ Lady Serena hesitated. ‘It was too painful to mention.’
Guinevere asked, puzzled, ‘And now it isn’t painful any longer?’
Lady Serena made an eloquent gesture with one of her hands. ‘If you give the photos, I can … stay out of it. I’ll only have to confirm it’s true but I can do that with the appropriate amount of … embarrassment over my own stupidity in believing Vex.’
Oliver drew a deep breath. ‘I don’t like to be used.’
‘Come on, Oliver.’ Lady Serena leaned over and tapped his shoulder a moment. ‘You want to know how that old man drowned. And you want to know where the stones are. You will give the photos to the police.’
She lowered her voice and added, ‘And believe me, you need not feel sorry for Mr Vex getting into trouble. He deserves all the trouble he’s going to get.’
She straightened up, turned away, and entered the bakery.
Oliver released his breath in a huff. ‘She has some nerve.’
‘But she’s right. You’ll give the photos to the police.’ Guinevere pointed toward the harbour. ‘There they are.’
Oliver followed the direction of her finger. Several men were coming up the pier where the boats were docked. The man on the yacht who had talked to Lady Serena observed them with close attention, while staying behind his cabin so they didn’t spot him.
‘You should have asked her who he is,’ Guinevere said. ‘He might have met Jago last night about the book. Can it have been thrown into the sea? Can the police look for it?’
Oliver exhaled slowly. ‘I doubt LeFevre wants to waste manpower on something like that. But I’ll ask him right now as I’ll oblige Lady Serena and turn this evidence over to the police.’ He held up the photos and then walked off to meet LeFevre.
Guinevere looked on as the two men met and exchanged a few words. LeFevre seemed to be surprised. He looked at the photos, then asked a question or two about them.
‘Miss.’ A young girl stood by her side.
Guinevere guessed she was about fourteen. She had black hair combed back and put into a heavy braid. She wore a red blouse covered by a long apron. It seemed she had come from the bakery. She said in a low voice, ‘I don’t want to tell the police. But I think you know them. So I want to tell you. I’ll just pretend to be talking about the dogs.’ She leaned down and patted Vivaldi, who sniffed at her hand.
Guinevere leaned down as well to hear every word the girl had to say. ‘Yes?’
The girl said, ‘I saw Jago and that man the other night.’
‘Jago and what man?’ Guinevere asked quickly.
‘That man who’s staying at the castle. He’s short and stocky and he tells people what to do.’
‘Wadencourt?’ Guinevere studied the girl. ‘You saw him with Jago?’
‘I had helped to clean up in the bakery, sweeping the floor and cleaning the counter. It was close to half past nine, I think. I was going home and I saw Jago with that man. They were arguing about something. I could tell by the sound of their voices. But I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I didn’t pay a lot of attention. I didn’t think Jago would die, you know.’
The girl looked unhappy as if in hindsight she blamed herself for not doing something about it.
‘I understand. Did you see Jago give the man anything? Or him giving Jago anything?’
‘No. Not at all. But I didn’t keep looking at them. I wanted to get home.’
‘I see.’
The girl gave Vivaldi a final pat on his head and turned away. ‘I have to help customers again.’
‘Wait! What’s your name?’
‘Don’t tell the police. My father would be so mad if he heard about it. He always tells us to keep away from the police.’ The girl hurried off back into the bakery.
Guinevere exhaled. LeFevre wouldn’t give much for this kind of testimony. But if the girl could be believed, Wadencourt had talked to Jago hours before he had died. What about?
Had Jago shown the missing book to him? Or whatever he had removed from it with his knife?
But the girl hadn’t seen anything exchanged between the two men.
Jago could have shown the book to somebody else and had the altercation with Wadencourt afterwards.
There was just no way to fit the book into the equation without knowing whether it even mentioned the goblet or Lady Rose and where the book was right now.
Oliver returned to her. ‘What are you frowning about?’
‘I just talked to someone who saw Jago with Wadencourt last night.’
‘Oh. Wadencourt didn’t mention that to the police.’
‘Maybe he didn’t think it was important. Besides, he didn’t mention it when we were present.
But he might have mentioned it at the station.’
Oliver nodded. ‘You’re right. We should keep an open mind. Still, we could ask him some time what they talked about. If he knew Jago before he came here. I’m still wondering how he worked out the place where the goblet was hidden. Ganoc, a patron saint of fishermen.’
‘You think Jago gave him a tip?’ Guinevere considered this possibility. ‘But why would Jago want Wadencourt to find the goblet? If he’d had any idea where it was, he would have told your father, wouldn’t he?’
‘I don’t think Jago knew where it was, but he might have told Wadencourt things he did know, about island history, that helped Wadencourt to figure it out.’ Oliver rubbed his hands together energetically. ‘We have to hit the library and discover all we can find about Ganoc.’
Guinevere nodded. ‘Let’s return Vivaldi to Meraud to sleep off his adventures and get on it.’
***
Back at the castle they made for the library, and Oliver looked around the shelves. ‘My father isn’t known for keeping method in anything he does, but his books do have some system to it. I think it’s topical.’ He looked up at the top shelves. ‘So Ganoc should be high up. Under C for Cornish. Or F for Folklore.’
Guinevere leaned back on her heels. Hadn’t Max been looking at books on the highest shelf the other day? What had he been looking for?
Oliver had put the ladder in place and climbed up. ‘Architecture. Amphibians. See, I was right about this being a letter A shelf. Anger management. I didn’t know my father needed that.’
Guinevere smiled in spite of her sad mood. ‘Wouldn’t Ganoc be in a book about saints? Under S, I mean.’
‘Possibly,’ Oliver acknowledged. ‘If you want to look there …’
Guinevere nodded.
Dolly seemed to understand that there would be no excitement and moved to a corner, turning around two or three times before she settled with her tail over her nose. Guinevere went over to give her a pat on the head. That the doggy was with her gave her some consolation on this sad day.
Oliver said, ‘Hey, what’s this?’ He pulled out a thin notebook and flipped it open. His expression grew dark as he leafed through it.
‘What is it?’ Guinevere asked, her heart skipping a beat.
‘Notes made about people enquiring about the castle. Plans to incorporate the castle into a tourist route. Calculations even.’ Oliver looked at her. ‘All in my father’s handwriting.’
‘So he is thinking about … the future.’ Guinevere didn’t dare mention the word sale.
Oliver stomped down the ladder. ‘I had no idea he was even …’ He slapped the notebook on the table. ‘Why doesn’t he tell me anything?’
‘Because I can take care of my own life.’ Bolingbrooke appeared in the doorway with Nero and Rufus by his side. ‘You don’t need to go through my things.’
‘We’re looking for a book on Ganoc, the saint.’ Oliver stepped away from the table and the notebook on it as if it was on fire. ‘Do you know where we can find it?’
Bolingbrooke shrugged. ‘Does it matter? Jago is dead.’ He walked into the room and stood in front of the window, staring out. Rufus stayed close to him while Nero took his place on the rug in front of the fireplace and rested his big head on his paws to snooze. He kept one eye open looking at Dolly as if he still wasn’t sure of this new face around the house.
Oliver said, ‘Ganoc was the patron saint of fishermen. Did Jago talk about him?’
‘Jago talked about a lot of things. When it came to this island, his heritage, his belief in the community, he could be obsessed. And if he did believe there was a valuable goblet to be found …’
‘We have to ask Wadencourt why he argued with Jago last night,’ Oliver said.
Bolingbrooke looked up. ‘They met?’
‘Yes, someone local saw them.’
Bolingbrooke’s eyes widened. ‘That’s terrible. I provided the opportunity. If Wadencourt had just been able to come back in … But he must have been raving mad. Ready to go at somebody. It’s all my fault!’ Bolingbrooke reached up and grabbed at his head.
‘What’s wrong?’ Oliver pressed. ‘What are you talking about?’
Bolingbrooke groaned, continuing to himself, ‘The stupidity of wanting to pull his leg.’
Oliver walked up to his father and touched his arm. ‘What is this? Tell us.’
Bolingbrooke sighed. ‘You know Cador locks up for the night. The only way out of the castle is via the little door. I noticed that Wadencourt sneaked out. I thought he was going to look for his precious goblet. I just wanted to tease him a little. I bolted the door so he couldn’t get back in. I thought he would have to bang at the gate and look the fool or stay out all night and …’
‘He was forced to stay outside all night?’ Guinevere said. ‘That’s why you were so happy that the weather had been rough. And so surprised to see Wadencourt appear this morning, well rested and clean-shaven like he had spent a good night’s rest in bed.’
Bolingbrooke nodded. ‘I had pictured him wandering outside and it gave me a wicked glee. Childish I know.’
Guinevere said, ‘He was locked out all night, so he could have killed Jago at the pier.’
Bolingbrooke nodded. ‘Now that you tell me that they met and … They must have argued about something. If Wadencourt could have just come back here, he would have. But he was locked out, angry and frustrated. Maybe he decided to wait for Jago at his boat and try to argue with him again? Then when Jago appeared, he was drunk and they got into a struggle. Wadencourt might have pushed him so he fell, hit his head on the pole and ended up in the water.’
Oliver said, ‘And Wadencourt then did nothing to get him out again? He could have called for help.’
‘Maybe he walked off before Jago fell in?’ Guinevere frowned hard. ‘What if Jago fell and hurt his head? Wadencourt saw the blood and panicked, thinking Jago might hit him too and break his jaw or something. Jago was bigger and stronger than him. Maybe he ran off because he was afraid, and Jago died later.’
Oliver shook his head. ‘Keep in mind that the whisky flask was wiped clean of fingerprints. Whoever was there with Jago didn’t run off in a panic, but took the time to erase evidence on the scene.’
‘We’d have to ask Wadencourt what happened while he was locked outside.’ Bolingbrooke looked grim. ‘But whether he will tell us the truth …’
Cador appeared in the doorway. ‘Inspector LeFevre for you, my lord.’ He stepped aside to let the policeman through.
LeFevre said, ‘I’ll be brief. The pathologist delivered some quick first results to me because I mentioned the missing stones. The location and shape of the head wound doesn’t agree with the idea that Jago hit his head on the pole. More like he was struck with a blunt object. Probably from behind while he sat on his haunches. He then fell forward on the pier where he bled. They’re looking closer at the head wound to see if they can determine what the object was. Jago’s body was probably rolled into the water by the perpetrator using both hands and feet. There’s water in his lungs so he was alive when he landed in the water. The blow to the head didn’t kill him. He did drown.’
‘What about the flask?’ Guinevere asked. ‘Had Jago been drinking heavily?’
‘He had been drinking. But not the entire contents of the flask. The flask was empty though. Maybe Jago had already drunk from it earlier?’
‘Or the perpetrator emptied it,’ Oliver suggested, ‘which would explain for his need to wipe his fingerprints away from it.’
LeFevre shrugged. ‘Perhaps. It is odd though that the fingerprints were wiped away from it while it did seem as if it had been dropped or had fallen from Jago’s hand. It had dented the wood of the pier where it fell. If the perpetrator picked it up to wipe the prints away, he replaced it in the exact same spot.’
Guinevere frowned hard trying to see what all of this might mean.
LeFevre added, ‘They are still on
the handkerchief to determine what part it played in the sequence of events. Right now …’ he looked around the room ‘… I want to search the castle gardens and the castle itself for the missing gems. I can’t overturn every stone of course, but a cursory search is necessary. If only because both Mr Wadencourt and Lady Serena insist on it. She claims she was tricked out of property belonging to her family. An influential family of peers.’
Bolingbrooke scoffed. ‘Let her first prove that it ever belonged to this fine family of peers.’
LeFevre waved an evasive hand and continued, ‘Lady Serena claims that Mr Vex used an alias to gain her trust and get detailed information about the goblet. She argues he did so under your orders.’
Guinevere shocked upright. Lady Serena hadn’t said that at all when Oliver and she had talked to her. Had she made it up, in a rush, to divert attention from herself, and the mystery man she had met with at the yacht?
‘Under my orders?’ Bolingbrooke echoed in disbelief. ‘I had never heard of this Vex character until the magazine informed me of his upcoming article. They were worried, apparently, that treasure hunters would come here to Cornisea and ruin my property. That reminds me …’
He looked at Oliver. ‘Should we inform the magazine that the goblet is found and coming here to hunt for it is pointless?’
Oliver said, ‘It might have been useful to have a paragraph added about the goblet being secured and searching for it no longer being necessary.’
Guinevere supplied, ‘But the magazine is printed by now, I suppose and besides, the police will have to decide how much can be shared with the public.’
They all looked expectantly at LeFevre.
The inspector rubbed his cheeks, some stubble rasping under his fingertips. Apparently he had been called out so early that he had not had time to shave.
LeFevre said, ‘Like Guinevere says, the magazine is printed so adding something is out of the question. But I did call them an hour ago and inform them of the situation, especially the death of a local man. I’ve emphasized we don’t know for sure yet if the two are related but we need to investigate things and it would be a disaster if herds of people showed up on the island to run around and erase possible evidence. They said they would place a notice on their website informing visitors that Cornisea Island can’t be visited right now and that they would also share this information via social media.’
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