Murder and the Glovemaker's Son

by Lesley Cookman

  As soon as Libby got back to Steeple Martin, she drove straight up to the Manor and made her way round to Ben’s microbrewery.

  ‘You’ll never guess!’ she said, as she burst in.

  ‘No, I won’t. What?’ He turned from a table full of charts and catalogues.

  ‘I think Richard might be gay.’

  Ben blinked. ‘Really? Why?’

  Libby explained about seeing him with Philip Jacobs.

  ‘Well, that doesn’t mean anything!’

  ‘No, but it looked very much as if they were – well, you know, a couple.’

  ‘But they’ve only just met.’

  ‘Well, maybe they haven’t. But it does explain why he wanted to leave Steeple Martin. After all, they met on Sunday, didn’t they, and if they both spotted something then... And remember, he left quite early in the evening. Suppose he went to the Huts, or Richard went down to his house?’

  ‘It’s possible, but a bit of a leap of faith,’ said Ben.

  ‘Anyway, Fran’s decided that all her fears about him were unfounded. So I suppose we just forget all about the whole letter and murder thing and get on with real life.’

  ‘Yes, except that I would like all those papers back. I’ve got really interested in old Titus Watt now, and I’d like to get someone on to it. Make sense of it all. Someone like Andrew, maybe?’

  ‘Oh, I think it would be a bit much to ask Andrew. It would be a huge job. You might have to pay someone.’

  ‘Gilbert, then?’ said Ben. ‘He was really interested, and it was his period.’

  ‘But Andrew wasn’t very happy about him at the end, was he?’ said Libby. ‘Even Ian...’

  ‘Well, why don’t I ask Ian if he’s made those further enquiries?’ said Ben. ‘Despite what we were saying last night, it could simply be that he was very interested in the subject and wanted to see if he could find out more about it, having been drawn into it originally by Nathan Vine.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Libby doubtfully.

  ‘Oh, come on, Lib. Let’s leave Ian to his murders and - as you said - get on with real life.’

  Real life consisted of Libby starting a new painting later that afternoon, only not of the lighthouse after all, and on Friday evening she and Ben went to the monthly quiz at the pub.

  ‘Look,’ whispered Libby, as they went into the main bar to find a table. ‘There’s Philip.’

  ‘Now don’t start asking questions,’ Ben whispered back. ‘Leave him alone.’

  But it seemed Philip was going to be the one asking questions.

  ‘Hi!’ he said coming over to them beaming. ‘Glad to have bumped into you – I was hoping to ask you something.’

  ‘Oh?’ Libby had slight difficulty getting the word out and Ben nudged her in the ribs.

  ‘What can we do for you?’ he replied pleasantly.

  ‘Well,’ Philip’s beam turned to a frown, ‘it’s about your cousin Richard.’

  Libby choked on her lager.

  ‘Richard?’ Ben raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I wondered – is he likely to be coming back here?’ Philip looked uncomfortable.

  ‘There’s no reason for him to,’ said Ben. ‘We aren’t close. In fact we didn’t know each other until last week.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ Philip frowned and fell silent.

  ‘May I ask why?’ said Libby eventually.

  ‘He called me on Monday.’ Now Philip looked slightly shamefaced. ‘I gave him my number when we met on Sunday, you see...’

  ‘OK...’ Ben was frowning. ‘Quite normal, I would have thought.’

  Philip was silent again.

  ‘Philip – what’s the problem?’ asked Libby. ‘You seem to be having one with this, whatever it is.’

  ‘He asked to meet me, you see,’ said Philip in a rush.

  Definitely impatient now, Libby nodded. ‘In Nethergate yesterday.’

  Philip’s mouth dropped open. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I met him, didn’t he tell you? And then my friend Fran and I saw you together at The Alexandria. She lives there, you see.’

  ‘No, he didn’t tell me any of that.’ Philip suddenly relaxed. ‘Well, that’s a relief, in a way. I couldn’t understand what he was being so secretive about when he called on Monday when it was obvious he hadn’t told you he was coming. And he was still saying not to mention it to you if I saw you in the village yesterday.’

  ‘So why did you want to know if he was coming back?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Quite frankly, so that I could avoid him,’ said Philip with a crooked grin. ‘I liked him when I first met him, but his phone call on Monday worried me a bit and then, yesterday, he made me feel really uncomfortable. I couldn’t make him out.’

  ‘I’m going to ask you an embarrassing question now,’ said Libby.

  ‘Libby!’ said Ben sharply.

  ‘No, go on,’ said Philip. ‘It’s all right, Ben.’

  ‘Did he – um – how can I put this… come on to you?’

  Philip nodded. ‘Yes, he did. And it was just so odd. I’m not gay, and I had the feeling he wasn’t either, so what was he playing at? Did he think I was?’

  ‘What did he want, though?’ said Libby. ‘Not a sexual encounter, obviously.’

  ‘He was asking me virtually the same questions you were on Sunday evening. I’m afraid in the end I got rather sharp with him and asked why he hadn’t discussed it all with you. He rather tried to gloss over the issue and then bought me lunch in The Swan.’ Philip shook his head. ‘It was one of the oddest meetings I’ve ever had – and I’ve had some odd ones, believe me! He was like two different people.’

  ‘I’m afraid Fran and I rather jumped to the conclusion that it was a meeting of – er – minds,’ said Libby. ‘That’s what it looked like from up there.’

  ‘Up where? Oh, the car park! You couldn’t see my face, though, could you!’ Philip laughed. ‘Well, that’s a relief. Will you warn me if he plans to come down here again?’

  ‘Believe me, we don’t want him to,’ said Ben. ‘He’s gone off with all our archive papers, so unless he brings those back, I can’t see us being on visiting terms.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you disliked him that much,’ said Libby, looking at Ben in surprise.

  ‘I didn’t at first, although I think I was always wary, for some reason. But you quite liked him, didn’t you?’

  ‘Well, quite, and Bel did, didn’t she?’ Noticing Philip looking curious, she said, ‘Bel’s my daughter Belinda. She was down here, too. Everyone had come down to see Twelfth Night.’

  ‘I still can’t see why Richard was so interested in Nathan Vine and his father, though,’ said Philip, ‘or why he didn’t just talk to you.’

  ‘Well, none of us knew much about any of it at first,’ said Ben. ‘It was the whole affair of the fake letter that started bringing it to light. First we were approached to put the National Shakespeare tour on here because of the letter, then the letter was withdrawn, then Duncan Lucas disappeared and Gilbert came down saying they mustn’t use the letter, then Lucas’s body was found. And in between, we found out about Titus Watt and the fact that Russell Wilde had gone off with the archive documents.’

  ‘And presumably gave them to Nathan?’ said Philip.

  ‘Looks like it,’ said Libby. ‘But at some point got them back, as Richard has them all now.’

  ‘Nathan submitted the fake letter to the V&A and withdrew it when they said it was a forgery, and we don’t know where it went next, because Duncan Lucas turns up with it. So how did he get it?’ said Ben.

  ‘It was the same letter, wasn’t it?’ asked Philip.

  ‘Oh, yes. Gilbert worked on it first time round,’ said Libby.

  ‘You think Richard knows something about it?’

  Ben and Libby looked at each other. ‘I think he wants to find out,’ said Libby. ‘We – and the police – want to know where the fake letter came from in the first place. Was it in with the archive documents when Ben�
�s dad passed them over, or was it conceived after that because of the findings in the documents. And who did it?’

  ‘Or caused it to be done,’ said Ben. ‘So do you think Richard thought you might know?’

  ‘I suppose he might have done. But why? And why be so secretive about it? And the whole thing about approaching me as if we were gay – again, why?’

  ‘Perhaps he actually thought you were,’ said Libby. ‘After all, you’re very neat and tidy and well-groomed, and in some people’s eyes that automatically makes you gay. I truly thought that sort of attitude had died out, and to be honest I would have thought Richard was too young to subscribe to it.’

  ‘Maybe, and he thought that was the way to get round me?’ said Philip. ‘Quite funny, if looked at in the right light.’ He looked round as Tim at the bar rang the bell to signal the start of the quiz. ‘I must go and join my team. Are you on your own?’

  ‘Yes, this time we are, unless Peter comes in to join us,’ said Ben. ‘Good luck!’

  Peter did arrive a few minutes later and Libby had great difficulty restraining herself from launching into an explanation of everything that had been going on over the past few days. She was able to tell him during the interval while Ben went to replenish their drinks.

  ‘So Cousin Richard’s definitely on the suspect list,’ said Peter. ‘Well, after behaviour like that, I’m not surprised. Sounds like a bit of a dinosaur.’

  ‘Doesn’t he?’ Libby nodded. ‘If we’re right, of course. It’s all speculation.’

  ‘When isn’t it, with you?’ Peter grinned.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  ‘What do you think about Gideon Law?’ Libby asked, as they walked home. ‘I still can’t fit him into the puzzle.’

  ‘Look, I said, Ian and his minions will be looking into all that. I’m sure by now they’ve found a link between him and Lucas.’ Ben tucked his arm through Libby’s. ‘Not really our worry. Richard and the archive stuff is, however. I want that stuff back.’

  ‘I wish we knew exactly what they found in Farm Cottage,’ said Libby.

  ‘Again, is it our worry?’

  ‘Well, it’s linked with Richard’s dad and the archive material, so I would have thought yes, it is.’

  ‘I’m going to email him and ask for it all back. After all, it was only loaned to Nathan Vine via Russell. It should really have gone straight back to Dad.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Libby. ‘I wish we could get to the bottom of it.’

  Ben gave her a sideways look. ‘Don’t go trying, please Lib. And the thing that puzzles me most is this strange approach to Philip. What was he thinking of?’

  ‘Oh, goodness knows,’ said Libby. ‘Perhaps he’s batty.’

  The following morning Ben was interviewing applicants for positions at the brewery, along with the owner of the brewery they had visited last autumn when Ben had got the idea, so Libby was on her own.

  ‘I think,’ she said on the phone to Fran, ‘I’ll stroll up and see if the police have taken the tape down at Farm Cottage. Then I might be able to get in and see what was going on.’

  ‘Oh, do be careful, Lib. You haven’t got a clue as to what they found, and anyway, don’t you think it was probably in that security shed? Which would be locked.’

  ‘Well, I’ll just wander up and have a look,’ said Libby. ‘And I’ll pop in on Una at the same time. She was pleased to see me last time.’

  Sure enough, the police tape had been removed. ‘And Fran’s right,’ Libby said out loud. ‘We’ve no idea what they found.’

  But when she got closer, she saw that security measures around the shed had been increased. There were more padlocks and an extra steel shutter at the front, so whatever was in there was worth protecting.

  She was just turning to retrace her steps towards Una’s cottage when her phone rang. She fished it out of her basket and saw Tristan’s name on the screen, to her surprise.

  ‘Tristan! What can I do for you?’

  ‘Well,’ there was a familiar hesitancy in Tristan’s voice. ‘It’s a bit awkward actually.’

  Libby sighed. ‘Go on.’

  ‘I didn’t know quite what to do.’

  ‘About what?’ Libby prompted after a minute.

  ‘Well,’ said Tristan again, ‘I found these messages, you see. Well -’ this was getting irritating – ‘not exactly messages. Notes.’

  ‘Yes?’ said Libby, after another pause. ‘From whom? To whom?’

  ‘From Gilbert Harrison to Gideon Law.’

  ‘What?’ Libby stood stock still in the middle of the lane. ‘But they didn’t know each other.’

  ‘It looked as though they were replies to something Gideon had sent to him. And they mentioned – er – Duncan Lucas.’ Tristan sounded as if he might start to cry.

  Libby felt as if she’d been hit by a cannonball.

  ‘What do they say?’ she managed eventually.

  ‘Actually the first one says he, Harrison, doesn’t know Lucas. But the second one says he can explain. That’s all there is. They’re on paper, not emails, so there’ll be no copies anywhere.’

  ‘Go straight to the police, Tristan,’ said Libby, pulling herself together. ‘Have you got a number for a contact in London?’

  ‘No, just a number for someone in Kent. DC Kent, was it? No...’

  ‘Trent,’ said Libby. ‘She works with DCI Connell. Yes, phone her. And I’ll leave a message on Connell’s personal phone, too. This is really important, Tristan.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Tristan still sounded uncertain.

  ‘And keep those notes safe. Where did you find them?’

  ‘In a drawer in a desk that Gideon used to use. He worked a lot from home, so he didn’t need a permanent office desk.’

  ‘He can’t have been too worried about them being seen, then,’ said Libby thoughtfully. ‘Where are they now?’

  ‘In front of me.’

  ‘Well, put them away! Have you got a briefcase? A safe?’

  ‘I can lock my desk drawer.’

  ‘Not good enough,’ said Libby. ‘No briefcase?’

  ‘Well, my satchel...’

  ‘Does it lock?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘OK. Fold them inside your wallet or card case or whatever in the inside pocket of your jacket. Not the back pocket of your trousers. Now. Do it now. I’m going to ring off.’

  She paused, took a deep breath and found Ian’s private number. She left a succinct message and began to walk on down Steeple Lane when she was aware of footsteps behind her.

  ‘Hello, Libby! We mustn’t keep meeting like this!’

  She swung round and came face to face with a manically grinning Richard.

  ‘No,’ she agreed cautiously, ‘we mustn’t. What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone home – again.’

  ‘I thought I’d like to see where Dad was working.’ Richard looked round at the fields and fidgeted.

  ‘Working? I thought he and Nathan were just doing a bit of research?’ Libby began to move down the lane again and Richard followed.

  ‘Research, yes. And he lived here, too. In Lendle Lane. He had a room.’

  ‘So I believe.’ Libby flicked another look at him. ‘Have you seen Philip again?’

  Richard stopped walking. ‘Philip? No. Why?’

  ‘Well after I saw you in Nethergate you met him, so I just wondered.’

  Richard’s face shuttered. ‘No.’

  Libby could have sworn he went faintly pink. She resumed walking. ‘Were you going to call in on Ben? Only he’s rather busy this morning, interviewing.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘But of course, if you were going to bring back the archive documents he’d be pleased to see you.’

  ‘Bring back – the documents?’ Now Richard looked aghast.

  ‘Well, yes. They weren’t your dad’s after all, they were loaned to Nathan. They should have come back to Greg – Ben’s dad.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Richard again.

 
Libby ploughed on. ‘You see, when you brought them down last week for us to look at, we thought you were bringing them back, especially as Michael and Andrew took them away to go into. But then you took them back.’

  ‘It didn’t occur to me,’ said Richard. Libby wondered whether he’d seen the draft letter.

  They came to the end of Steeple Lane.

  ‘Where are you parked?’ asked Libby.

  ‘Lendle Lane,’ said Richard. ‘I discovered I can cut through behind the church.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Libby, watching him thoughtfully. ‘Well, no doubt I’ll see you when you bring the documents back. Or will you send them? Save you the journey?’

  ‘Oh – I – er – I...’ Richard looked trapped.

  ‘Well,’ said Libby, ‘never mind. Ben said he was going to ring you, anyway. Safe journey.’

  She watched him make his way across the high street and into Maltby Close, then made a dive for The Pink Geranium.

  Unfortunately, it was busy, it being Saturday, but Donna, the occasional waitress and general factotum, saw that she was big with news and sent her through to the back yard. Harry appeared a moment later, wiping his hands on a towel.

  ‘What’s up, petal?’

  Libby told him, words pouring out in a rush.

  ‘Whoa – slow down!’ He pushed her into one of the little white wrought iron chairs. ‘Now, start again.’

  As she spoke, Harry fished under his apron and brought out his phone.

  ‘There,’ he said, ‘I’ve sent Pete a text. He’ll be here in a minute. Now, have you sent Ian that message?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right. Now leave him another one. Richard was obviously poking round Farm Cottage when you were up there, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Well, I assume so – he just appeared behind me.’ Libby took a breath. ‘I think I was a bit scared.’

  ‘Probably. So go on. Send another message.’

  Libby texted: “And Richard was poking around Farm Cottage this morning.”

  ‘Do you suppose,’ she said to Harry, ‘that he heard me sending the first message?’

  ‘What, Richard? Does it matter if he did? It wasn’t about him, was it? And he didn’t have any connection with the V&A people or Duncan Lucas.’