Steam rose up as James removed the lids from the dishes of vegetables. Their friends helped themselves to the potatoes, carrots and peas, while Stephen wandered behind them filling their glasses with Claret.
James picked up the carving knife and fork and began slicing the meat joint. The smell of beef drifted across the table and everyone murmured their appreciation as their portions arrived. As normal, once the meal was served, the chatter diminished, the cutlery clinked and whispers of delight were directed toward James and Beth.
‘Oh James,’Anne said, licking her lips. ‘This is lovely. Did you do all of this yourself? You’re a very modern man.’
James gave her a bashful smile as he helped himself to more parsnips. ‘Absolutely, old fruit. I love to get stuck in with the cooking. Perhaps I should have been a chef.’ He raised his glass and patted his lips with his napkin. ‘Cheers, everyone.’
A unanimous ‘cheers’ rang out as everyone raised their glasses. George cleared his throat.
‘Never mind about being a chef,’ he said. ‘You’d ‘ave been better as a detective.’
Anne’s mischievous eyes lit up. ‘I thought you’d never get onto the subject. You know, I thought it was Graham Porter.’
James put his knife down and used his fork to pick at his food. ‘Well, you had every right to think so. Graham had a just reason to want Grimes dead. He was owed money. He even threatened to kill Grimes a couple of weeks ago. He had no alibi and, quite honestly, could have popped across to the farm and throttled him.’ He popped a small piece of potato into his mouth.
Bert nodded an agreement. ‘But ‘e didn’t, did he? Are you gonna fill everyone in on what ‘appened, Jimmy boy?’
All eyes turned to James. He squeezed Beth’s hand and looked at George.
‘I am, but first I’m interested in why George nabbed Donovan Delaney.’
George gave him a knowing look. ‘I didn’t have much, to be honest,’ he replied. ‘But I found out he’d been to the farm that morning. And, as you know, forensics confirmed that his fingerprints and some of his blood were on that hideous ornament.’
‘H-how did you find out h-he’d been to the farm?’ asked Stephen.
George nodded at Beth. ‘Your Mrs Jepson, actually. She’d been so desperate to get in touch with you that she went to the local police station up in Gloucestershire. Anyway, I was there when she rang. I asked if Mr Jepson was with ‘er and ‘e was. Well, he admitted arguing with Alec Grimes that morning and, as we all thought, it was about the play. Grimes wasn’t happy about the topic and wanted him to change it. That was it, really. Nothing malicious. So, Jepson left and, as he arrived in the village, Delaney flagged him down. Asked if he’d been past Grimes’ place and whether he was in.’
Anne frowned as she sipped her wine. ‘But Mr Grimes was renowned for being anti-social,’ she commented. ‘So why agree to be in the play?’
‘I think he got involved because he wanted to change the story,’ replied George. ‘To convince Jepson that it wasn’t right.’ He glanced at Stephen and then at Keith. ‘Didn’t want anything evil or superstitious. He said the Players should stick to a more Christian theme, especially near Christmas.’
‘W-well, I can’t say I b-blame him,’ said Stephen.
Keith nodded. ‘That sounds like Dad. He went completely mental when Mum died. Felt it was his fault, that he was being punished, that Mum had been punished. He steadily got worse, paranoid even. He became more and more religious, more possessed with banishing evil from his life and everyone else’s.’ He pushed his food around the plate. ‘Didn’t go about it the right way, though.’
Beth put a hand to her mouth. ‘But why? Why would he feel that way?’
Keith fiddled with his knife and stared at the table. Beth placed her hand on his.
‘Keith, you don’t have to say,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry if we’ve stirred up memories.’
Keith shook his head and smiled. ‘No, it’s all right. They’re both dead now, so…’ He took a deep breath. ‘They weren’t married when Mum fell pregnant with me.’
Anne mouthed an ‘Oh’ at Beth as Keith continued.
‘Dad, from what I know of his upbringing, was a churchgoer, but more out of duty than anything else. The reaction he got from his parents…well, they were cut off, wouldn’t have anything to do with ‘em. Then, when Mum died - I was about eight - everything changed. He said God was punishing him.’
Stephen appeared a little taken aback and the guests exchanged glances of concern and empathy. Bert broke the silence. ‘They loved each other, though?’ he asked. ‘Got married an’ all?’
Keith nodded and Bert announced that that was all that mattered. He said that Keith can’t be blamed for the actions of his parents.
‘So,’ Bert continued, keen to help Keith relax, ’Donovan went to the farm and Grimes was already dead. And we know, from what James said earlier, that he’d really gone to ‘ave it out with Grimes once and for all.’
‘That’s right,’ George said, slicing into a crisp roast potato. He poured some extra gravy on his plate. ‘Grimes had put another wisecrack in about his wife and Delaney wanted to put him straight but, when he got to the farm, he found Grimes dead.’ He sighed. ‘I didn’t believe him. I mean, he’d lied about it - his fingerprints were everywhere, with blood on the robin. Why didn’t he call an ambulance or something? Why leave ‘im sitting there?’
James pointed his fork at George. ‘Scared. He’d had a few run-ins with Grimes about the kiddies not being baptised. Now we know why. Wife with a record for violence - can’t help the chap for being slow in coming forward. A man will want to protect his family.’
George shook his head in annoyance. ‘I do wish people would just tell the truth. Save a lot of hassle.’
James carved himself and Bert another slice of beef and topped up Beth’s wine glass.
‘Well, ladies and gentlemen,’ he then said. ‘I discovered something on Friday night.’ He looked at Keith. ‘The thing is, although there was foul play with your father, he wasn’t actually murdered.’
A gasp shot around the room. ‘W-wasn’t murdered?’ Stephen said. ‘But that’s w-what started this whole th-thing off.’
James glanced across to George. ‘You explain this bit, old chap, whilst I polish off the last of my dinner.’
George, who had now finished his meal, pushed his plate away and loosened his tie.
‘James is right. Dr Jackson and our MO both confirmed that Grimes suffered a heart attack. But, of course, James brought up some interesting facts that you all know about.’
‘Oh y-yes,’ replied Stephen. ‘All that b-business with the painting.’
‘Not just that,’ said George. ‘Coat buttoned up wrong, minor signs of a struggle, and one important fact that I ignored and shouldn’t have done.’ He leant forward. ‘He had mud on the heels of his shoes. Someone had dragged him from the kitchen to the chair outside.’
‘Goodness me,’Anne said. ‘So Grimes died in the kitchen while someone was with him?’
James pushed his plate back. ‘That’s right - Ian Connell. They’d had a heated exchange. Connell pushed him, hit him with that robin and Grimes fell.’ He ran his tongue across his top lip. ‘That’s the bump on the head I saw. And then the stress of everything brought on the heart attack.’
Beth nodded. ‘So Connell was right when he said it was an accident.’
James squeezed her hand. ‘Absolutely, old thing. If he’d just left him and called for an ambulance, no-one would have been any the wiser.’
Beth brushed the fringe from her eyes and commented that Ian Connell had a tendency to panic. ‘I mean, he had no reason to take me on Friday,’ she said. ‘A cool head would react differently, been more intelligent.’
‘So, come on Jimmy boy,’ said Bert. ‘What’s the story with Ian Connell and that devil woman, Diana?’
James’ face lit up at the prospect of telling the story, but suggested they save this part for dessert. He wai
ted as Beth and Anne cleared the dinner plates away and brought in the sherry trifle, layered with jellied sponge, raspberries, blancmange, meringue and cream topped with slices of mandarins. Anne stood alongside and helped serve and distribute the dishes. Once settled, James began.
‘Ian Connell is a self-made man. Left home as a boy, disappointment to his family, rebellious, hated authority, over-bearing father, that sort of thing. But he did learn a trade. He’d had some training in design - architecture, surveying, that sort of thing - but didn’t last the course at any of it. He said to me that he preferred getting his hands dirty and getting stuck in, so he essentially became a labourer, building extensions, plumbing, carpentry, that sort of thing. Good at it, too.’
‘And he’d been contracted to do Grimes’ building work,’ Bert added.
‘That’s right,’ replied James. ‘Ian befriended Grimes several months ago with the promise of an exceptional renovation to his property. You see, Ian has interests aside from work, one of those interests being Roman history. He’d initially popped into the farm to ask for directions, but saw the pottery that Grimes had found sitting on the kitchen table. It was the same sort of thing that I’d brought home that day I found him. Grimes told him he’d dug them up in the field behind the copse and that he was thinking of buying that land because it was up for sale.’
‘A-and Ian knew what the pottery was?’asked Stephen.
‘Oh yes,’ replied James. ‘Later that day, he sneaked into that field, through the copse, and started digging a trench, near to where Grimes said he’d been. He found pieces of pottery and a few coins. It was enough to make him believe there was something there, but pottery and coins are pretty common. It was what he found in the copse that excited him, however.’
James went on to explain that Ian had taken the pieces with him and spent the next few weeks liaising with experts in the field. He’d begun reading up on sites in and around Lewes and Chichester and comparing his finds with those found across the county. Everything had led to this area hiding something substantial.
But, James went on to explain, the big piece of information that Ian discovered was to do with a burial mound, not in the field where the pottery was, but in the copse.
‘Only trouble for Ian was that the land didn’t belong to him - it belonged to Grimes. He’d spent the last of his savings, including Porter’s loan, to pay for the field and the copse. He’d planned to harvest the field, and the copse would simply add value to the property. But Grimes didn’t know about the burial ground, and it’s the burial ground that gave up things of far more interest than coins and pottery.’
Anne couldn’t contain herself. ‘The jewels? ’
James smiled, enchanted by her childlike enthusiasm. Stephen’s brow furrowed.
‘B-but Ian couldn’t dig the c-copse, because it belonged to Grimes. Did he put pressure on Grimes?’
‘Conned him, more like,’ replied James. ‘During all of this, Connell discussed everything with the delectable Diana, who, like Ian, had washed her hands of her family and become a ruthless, hard-hitting businesswoman.’
‘She sounds like the brains of the outfit,’Anne said.
‘That’s right,’ agreed James. ‘Connell had already discovered some jewellery and originally set out to do things legally. He even showed Grimes a piece of the jewellery. His plan was to convince Grimes to go fifty fifty on purchasing the land and to share the spoils. Connell couldn’t afford to put the cash up front, so he offered to put in what he had and renovate Grimes’ farm for free. That, of course, also put up the value of the farmhouse. It made an attractive offer.’
George rubbed his stomach with a contented smile. ‘Connell drew up the plans and gave Grimes some pretty realistic projections of value. But, by then, Diana had sharpened her claws and saw an opportunity.’
James tapped the table. ‘What Connell didn’t realise was that Grimes had gone across to the copse to investigate the burial mound himself. There he’d discovered the haul of jewels Bert and I found in the loft.’
‘And that kind of sealed his fate,’ Beth said.
‘Well, until Diana got involved, it was all legal and above board,’ continued James. ‘But, as I say, Diana had other plans.’ He helped himself to another portion of trifle. ‘Diana planned to kill Grimes all along, but him keeling over made things a lot easier. With Grimes out of the way, her property business made arrangements to auction the farm. Sutherlands had sole trading for the farm, so she—’
‘Had indefinite access to the copse and the field,’ Anne said.
James raised his eyebrows, surprised at Anne’s intuition. ‘Bang on, Anne. And, as we mentioned earlier, they may have gotten away with it. But Ian panicked when Grimes collapsed. He dragged Alec’s body outside and made it look as if he’d died whilst painting, thus making a perfectly natural death appear unnatural and suspicious.’
‘A-and Keith?’asked Stephen.
Keith shifted in his chair.
‘Ah yes, Keith,’ replied James. ‘Alec had never mentioned a son and, of course, that threw a spanner in the works. Ian and Diana couldn’t risk Keith finding out, but Keith already knew. So Diana planned his demise, too.’
Beth shuddered. ‘How cold-blooded. But how did they know? And how did Keith know?’
James gestured for Keith to take the lead. Keith took a drink and cleared his throat.
‘Dad sent me a letter. He had doubts about the deal and decided to contact me. I’d left home on bad terms, but I couldn’t make a complete break. I did have a good relationship with him until Mum died. He told me about Connell and Diana. So, when I got down here, I went straight to Loxfield to have it out with them.’
James leant in to continue.
‘Yes, young Keith here arrived just after I’d left Sutherlands. It was Diana who battered Keith into a coma and brought him here.’
‘But how on earth did they get him on top of that bonfire without being seen?’ Anne asked, looking at Keith’s stocky bulk in bewilderment.
James winced and rubbed his chin. ‘To be honest, the villagers were in and out of these fields the whole day. Nothing was locked per se, so everyone had access. That’s what made this whole thing so bally difficult. People buzzing in and out like honey bees. But you don’t expect a real body to be hauled to the top of your bonfire, do you?’
‘Which brings us on to Friday evening,’ George said.
Beth placed her palm on her forehead. ‘Oh goodness, what an evening,’ she sighed. ‘Once James had rung to say he was going to Lewes to help Donovan, well, I let Ian know what he’d said and the evidence they had. It sounded cut and dried. He started asking questions, you know, wanting to know the details, and I just let flow. Told him about James’ suspicions, the jewellery we’d found…At first, he feigned an almost innocent interest. I thought, what harm could it do?’
Anne squeezed her arm and Beth patted it. ‘He seemed such a nice man, but he went crazy. I mean, I didn’t know him well, but I honestly thought he was going to kill me there and then.’
James pushed himself up from his seat and stood behind Beth to massage her shoulders.
‘Unfortunately, Ian doesn’t think,’ he said. ‘He’d shown his cards to Beth and then went into a blind panic. He’d already arranged to meet Diana and had no option but to drag poor Beth with him. Chap doesn’t think straight in a crisis.’
The doorbell rang, taking everyone by surprise. On James’ request, Bert went to greet their visitor, who peered around the dining room door.
‘Good evening,’ said Professor Wilkins.
James grabbed his walking stick and limped across to greet him. Beth gestured for the Professor to join them.
‘I’m so glad you came.’
‘Pull up a chair, old man,’ said James. ‘Let me get you a drink.’ He picked up the Claret and a spare glass. Their guests shuffled their chairs so that the Professor could join them.
‘James, one thing,’ Stephen said. ‘H-how did you know to l-l
ook for Beth in the copse?’
‘Ah ha,’ replied James, smiling. ‘Those paintings. I mean, I thought he just liked the view, but there was a lot more to it. As you know, we found the Latin for the word gold encrypted on the canvas. And, of course, when we’d discovered Beth had been kidnapped, the smaller canvas was discarded on the floor in the hall. There was no reason for it to be there. My instinct was that Beth had thrown it there to give us a clue.’
‘Thank God you did,’ Anne said looking at Beth and then twisting to look at James. ‘And is there any truth in this burial ground? Did Ian find more treasure or, heaven forbid, human remains?’
James gestured to Wilkins. ‘Looks like you arrived just in time, Professor. Have you news?’
Wilkins undid his jacket, sat down between George and Anne and pulled his chair closer to the table.
‘Yes, quite a bit.’ He winced at George. ‘I’m so sorry that you had a run around trying to find me. I understand I may have been your chief suspect for a while. The fact is, James sparked my interest with his pottery find. I knew there was nothing much published about Roman ruins or anything in Cavendish, nothing at all. But then it occurred to me to check back on local documents rather than the national or county ones.’
He felt inside his pocket and brought out some loose sheets of paper.
‘I managed to find copies of some parish pamphlets,’ he continued, ’printed at the turn of the last century. It appears that, back then, there was rumour of some sort of settlement here.’
‘A settlement!’ Beth said. ‘How exciting.’
Wilkins launched into the investigations he’d made that had taken him to Oxford, the British Museum, Fishbourne Palace and Lewes, as well as several small village libraries that had produced booklets and newsletters from two hundred years ago.
‘You see, these little essays and pamphlets get lost in the system,’ he said. ’Because no-one had any real proof, the fuss about any Roman settlement died, along with the writers of these small books. Of course, then pottery pieces started turning up, and then this jewellery that I’ve heard about. It sounds remarkable.’
LORD JAMES HARRINGTON AND THE WINTER MYSTERY (Lord James Harrington Mysteries Book 1) Page 26