The de Vere Deception (David Thorne Mysteries Book 1)

by Loy Ray Clemons

  They went to the Keep and stood before the large wooden table. Hammersmith placed his hand on the top of the table and carefully traced his fingers along a fresh hairline crack in the granite tabletop.

  “This is where the pallet landed. The force caused it to catapult over here—” He walked a few feet from the table. “Mr. Hollister had undoubtedly tried to retreat when he saw it falling. Had he remained at the table, he would have been killed instantly. The heavy wooden pallet with the bags of cement catapulted off the table and both hit him full force, breaking a number of ribs on the left side of his body and causing extensive internal injuries.”

  Hammersmith moved adroitly, acting out the impact on Freddie’s body. “Part of the pallet also collided with his left shoulder and neck, breaking his collarbone and dislocating vertebrae in his spinal column. Other internal injuries were extensive.”

  He said dramatically, “ We now know what happened. What we need next is to find out how it happened and possibly who caused the pallet to fall in the first place.” He motioned for Thorne to follow as he started up the steps to the top of the Keep.

  They climbed the long stairs to the top level, eighty feet above the large open interior space of the Keep. Hammersmith went through the door into the guard’s quarters and over to the large open hole where the platform would have normally been.

  “The platform would have been on rails and would have normally been retracted. It was obviously situated over the opening before it fell.”

  The end of a frayed rope was hanging down from another opening in the ceiling. Hammersmith picked up a length of wood and fished for the rope’s end to where he could reach it.

  “Normally, the chain lift would have brought the main platform with the pallets from below and off-loaded the bags of cement here on this level. Obviously they remained on the pallet and were now to be hoisted up with a rope later since they didn’t want to use the chain hoist.

  “Look closely at the end of the rope,” he said giving it to Thorne.

  Thorne examined the frayed end of the rope closely. “It does appear to have an unusually even fray.”

  “More than even,” said the Inspector. “It’s been cut—at least partially. See how even it is on one side? A rope has a natural random fray pattern when it fails. The rope was almost completely cut through and left dangling, but only momentarily. The pallet would still be hanging there, loaded with the bags of cement, were it not due to additional forces “

  “Why momentarily? What other forces?”

  “Aha! Now there’s the interesting part. Look up.”

  Thorne leaned over the large gaping hole in the floor and looked upward. He could see all the way through the floors above to the ceiling of the Queen’s apartment at the top of the Keep.

  Hammersmith said, “You see, on the day of the accident, the stone masons were the only ones working on the top floor.” “The cement bags were being hauled up to prepare mortar to fix or repair, or—”

  “Point,” Thorne said. “The term is point the joints. That’s what they do when they replace new mortar after cleaning out the old, crumbling mortar from the joints.”

  “Whatever,” Hammersmith said. “Everyone confirms that all the workman were up on the top floor, even the hod carrier, who was carrying stone and mixing the mortar for the masons working up there. There must have been at least thirty or so men working up there. I have to admit, I was perplexed at first as to how a rope could be cut partially through and have it fall at such an opportune time. Then I saw that.” He pointed down to the ground floor.

  Thorne leaned and looked down. “And—?” he asked.

  “Look over against the wall. Do you see that large stone?”

  Thorne looked closer and saw a square stone the size of a basketball laying on the floor against the wall.

  Hammersmith said, “On the top floor where the men were working, there are stacks of such stones. What I think happened was that someone knew Mr. Hollister would be working there at the table—as he usually did. They had previously cut the rope most of the way through, just enough to hold the pallet suspended there over the table. Then, when Mr. Hollister moved into position, they pushed or knocked the stone over the edge. The stone, being pushed off the stack, fell onto the pallet holding the cement bags. The impact and additional weight of the stone on the pallet broke the already weakened rope, dropping the pallet and its contents onto the unsuspecting victim below.”

  Thorne was curious. “Have you questioned the men who were working above?”

  “I questioned all who were there at the time, as a group, but their responses were sketchy. I’m still putting together my notes. Hammersmith gave Thorne a stern look. “I’d like to keep this information to ourselves—that is, until I complete my final investigation. I’ll be in contact with you.”

  Thorne returned to the three men waiting in Rainier’s office. Could one or more of them be involved in what Hammersmith had just been described to him.

  But who wanted Freddie dead—and why? He was one of their most valuable assets in the search for the documents—and with him dead, how would anyone ever recover the necklace.

  Chapter 40

  As Thorne returned to the room, a conversation between Raskin, Blackstone, and Kirk-Halstrom ended abruptly. Raskin broke the silence. “Was there anything of significance the Inspector wanted to know?”

  Thorne said calmly, “No, he just wanted to confirm my whereabouts for the past two days. Nothing important.”

  Blackstone sat up straight in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Mr. Thorne, I have put forth my opinion to Gil, Lionel, and Chet, that your usefulness has run out and—”

  Raskin wrinkled his face as if he were in pain. “I think what Simon is saying is that while we’ve appreciated your efforts, it appears the documents have been not been found—and perhaps we should approach the search—” He folded his hands and surveyed the others. “It’s quite possible Freddie may have found the documents. We know he’s spent a lot of time working in the Keep, and had ample opportunity to find them.”

  Thorne narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Raskin, perhaps you should get to the point.”

  Raskin started to respond, but was interrupted by Kirk-Halstrom. “Mr. Thorne, you have been retained by us now for close to six weeks. We’re now no better off—no, we’re worse off than we were when we hired you. I simply can’t abide—”

  Raskin cleared his throat. “Mr. Thorne—”

  Thorne looked in the direction of Bada and said, “What’s your opinion of the situation, Gil?”

  Bada had been staring at a chart on the wall and after a slight pause said, “It does appear there’s been a lot of things that have happened that have changed our mission. Obviously we had no idea this would happen to Freddie.”

  Thorne realized he’d get no commitment from Bada and returned his attention to Raskin. “Gentlemen, I’ve been at this long enough to know when I have an unhappy client. So, you have to make a decision. As for myself, I want it known by all of you I’m prepared to fulfill my commitment and perform my contract.” He waited for an answer as chairs scraped and someone cleared his throat.

  Kirk-Halstrom repeated his previous statement. “Mr. Thorne, you have been in our employ for six weeks or so. We’re no better off. I put it to you—”

  Angered by Kirk-Halstrom’s patronizing attitude, Thorne snapped, “I have not been in your employ. That was made perfectly clear when we first discussed me coming on board. I’m a consultant—with a contract. If you had read the contract completely, you would know full satisfaction required by the contract takes effect when I leave the project unless I myself cancel it, or fail to perform—which is not the case. I have no intention of canceling it. I plan to be here and complete the search. For your information, I also turned down other assignments to take this one.”

  Kirk-Halstrom’s eyebrows went up. “Do I get the impression you want us to pay you the full contract for—” He looked in Bada’s dire
ction. “How much is it, Gil?”

  “Three months at $10,000 each month,” said Bada without looking up.

  “Preposterous!” exclaimed Kirk-Halstrom. “You feel an imposition has been visited upon you, and now you want $30,000 for six weeks work, during which time you’ve found nothing. In addition, we’ve provided expenses, clothing—”

  “Sir, you may have the clothes back. Most of them have not been worn. You will recall, this ridiculous suggestion was your idea in the first place.” He enjoyed watching the snob’s eyebrows quiver. “Perhaps you could return them to Harrods for a refund, since I doubt they’ll ever be of use to me in Arizona.”

  He could hear Kirk-Halstrom’s quick breathing as the man turned red in the face and looked imploringly in Raskin’s direction. Raising his eyebrows, Kirk-Halstrom said, “Well, I shan’t say another thing on the subject.”

  “There, there Lionel,” Raskin said, as if trying to soothe a child having a tantrum. “Don’t get yourself upset. I’m sure we can work out something with Mr. Thorne.”

  Thorne was aware of the frequent use of his surname during the discussion, a sure sign the relationship had-or was about to be permanently severed.

  Raskin smiled the calm, assured smile Thorne had come to expect from him. “Mr. Thorne, I realize we’re involved in an unpleasant situation here. That said, we’re prepared to pay you a larger portion than one might expect under these circumstances. There’s a moral imperative here, and I think we can pay you for a total of two month’s work even though you’ve been associated with us for only six weeks.” He looked at the other members of the group. “I think that’s a fair arrangement, don’t the rest of you?”

  Kirk-Halstrom and Blackstone looked up. Blackstone was sullen. “I don’t like it, but if you say so, Chet, I’ll agree to it.”

  Kirk-Halstrom refused to look at Thorne, but turned to Bada. He then made a statement that elicited soft chuckles even from Bada and Raskin. “I want him to know I refuse to take his clothes back.”

  “That’s generous of you, Sir,” Thorne said. “Now, before you get yourself in a swivet, I’m sure the Salvation Army will be pleased with your donation.”

  “Now we’re getting childish, gentlemen,” Raskin said. ”I’d like to stay on the subject of termination of the contract.”

  Bada said, “I suppose I would be over-ruled if I were to give my opinion, so I’ll prepare a final payment and the necessary documentation all of you appear be agreeable to.”

  Thorne knew taking the group to court for non-payment was out of the question. It would cause him too much trouble, and not be worth it. He also realized the twenty thousand dollars would more than cover the time and effort he had put into the project. He said nothing, but stared at Bada, waiting for the final offer.

  Bada smiled as he glanced at his partners. “Agreed. I’ll prepare a check in the amount of $20,000, and you’ll sign the release. Is that satisfactory, Mr. Thorne?”

  “Of course it’s not satisfactory,” Thorne said with sarcasm. ”However, when can you have the cash or a cashier’s check and the other documents ready for me to sign?”

  Bada turned to the others and said, “I’ll prepare the release documents and the cashier’s check and get it to him.” He turned to Thorne. “How would you like the check addressed?”

  “Make it out to Cash.”

  “Fine. I’ll see it’s delivered to you tomorrow morning at the manor house.” He added reflectively, “I regret this, David. Is there anything else you want to say?”

  “No, thank you,” Thorne said curtly as he arose. He was unaffected by Bada’s return to the more familiar address of David, and left the room without speaking to the others.

  Chapter 41

  Thorne sat in his office with the lights off, reflecting on what had just happened. He had previously decided to return the necklace to Gilbert Bada and let him decide who the rightful owner was. Now, he wasn’t too sure he would do that. His clients—now former clients—had changed his mind. The loss of the job, coupled with Freddie’s eminent death, was all it took to move him over the edge.

  Did anyone care about what was to happen to him?

  An idea began to play in his mind—an idea foreign to everything he had believed in.

  What if he were to keep the necklace for himself?

  He could return to Antwerp with the necklace, seek out Darver and—. No, that wouldn’t work. Darver might contact the others, then his identity might be revealed.

  Thorne was in conflict with his emotions. Deep down, he knew he should give the necklace back. But to who? Once he sold the necklace, he could go back to Scottsdale and enjoy financial security for the rest of his life. No one would ever know—except him.

  If he kept the necklace, he needed to seek another fence other than Darver in Antwerp. Maybe the Middle East. Maybe Paris. There were a lot of rich Arabs in Paris. The sheiks and princesses were always buying jewelry and other expensive things. That might be the way to go.

  Maybe he should try Paris.

  His mind jumped back to the people he knew in Stratford. What friends did he have left? Freddie and Gweneth were the only ones he considered to be his friends. He had been getting closer to Bada, but that was over now. He felt a warmth for Gweneth, but now she was going to be Mrs. Neville Forestal—another thing that bothered him. Freddie was the greatest disappointment. He would have never suspected Freddie to be involved in anything underhanded.

  Was there anyone who cared what he thought? Were they the least bit concerned what was going to happen to him when this was all over? He suddenly realized he was drifting into self-pity, but—.

  No—now he was on his own.

  But what about Freddie? He not only felt bad about his condition. Shouldn’t he find out what caused this young man to do what he did. As a friend, he felt Freddie owed him an explanation. What was to become of Freddie’s family? He was still wrestling with his thoughts as he heard a light knock on the door.

  Bada had followed Thorne to his office. He came in and stood with his back to the closed door. “I must say, I’m disappointed in the outcome of this affair. No one expected all of these events to happen. Freddie’s in hospital, not expected to live, and now you’re off the job—”

  Thorne was closed down. He said tersely, “I’ll be at the White rose Inn in Bridgeport tonight. Would you be able to have a courier drop by with the release papers and the check before eight tomorrow morning? I’d like to get an early start.”

  “Yes. I’ll see they’re delivered early. Do you need a ride to the airport or would you prefer to go on the train? I can have arrangements made if you wish.”

  “No, thank you. I’ll make my own arrangements.”

  Bada held out his hand and said, “I personally think it’s very unfortunate the way things turned out—and that said, I’ll wish you good luck.”

  Thorne took Bada’s hand and said without emotion, “Thank you. The same to you.”

  Bada left and Thorne called the Excel Auto Rental in Bridgetown. He gave the name David Riley to the young man who answered the phone and asked if they could bring a car, a Land Rover with tinted windows, by the Moldar manor house in a couple of hours. The young man repeated his name back to him and was abruptly interrupted. He said, “Excuse me while I take care of other business. I’ll be right back.”

  Thorne waited as he heard muffed conversation in the background. The young man returned, said a driver would bring the Land Rover by at two-thirty, and asked him if he could drop the driver off at an address in Stratford.

  His thoughts returned to Freddie and he called the hospital. “Could you please tell me how Mr. Hollister is doing, and can he receive visitors?”

  The nurse said, “Mr. Hollister remains in critical condition. At this time, visitors are restricted to family members.”

  Thorne cleared out the meager effects in his office and drove the golf cart back to the manor house.

  Chapter 42

  Thorne sat in his bed
room staring into a diminishing fire in the fireplace. He read one-thirty on his watch. One hour to go before the car would pick him up. He told the staff he wouldn’t be there for dinner that evening, but would be staying at the White Rose in Bridgetown.

  He retrieved the packet with the necklace from its hiding place and folded a wool sweater around it. He pressed the sweater between two others and placed them in the bottom of a large Harrods shopping bag. He took his luggage to the foyer and went back to the kitchen to get a drink of water. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gweneth sitting alone in front of the fireplace listening to music on the radio.

  He hesitated before going in. She immediately turned and said playfully, “Aha, Mr. David Thorne approaches—or whoever’s been in his aftershave.”

  Thorne couldn’t help but smile at the bright, cheerful welcome. “True,” he said. “It’s David, and he’s been in his own aftershave.”

  She wheeled her chair over to an overstuffed chair facing the fireplace and patted the cushion enthusiastically. “Please come over and sit, David Thorne. Turn the radio off and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  He turned the radio off on his way over to the chair. “Well, to tell you the truth—”

  “Oh,” she said with amusement, “I would never expect anything but the truth from David Thorne.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to be leaving tomorrow. I’m going back to the states. My work is finished here.”

  Her smile disappeared. “Oh, that’s too bad. We’ve enjoyed having you with us.”

  “I’ll be leaving tomorrow early, so I’m afraid I won’t be seeing you after today. I’ll be staying the night at the White Rose Inn in Bridgetown.”

  She said, “Andrea and I will miss our little talks. I wanted to tell you all about my upcoming wedding. Neville and I are going to be married next month. I had so hoped you would be there. It’s going to be a big wedding in the church in Stratford. Are you sure you can’t stay for it?”