‘That’s true,’ said Libby, just as Peter strolled into the yard.
‘Best bring a bottle, my love,’ he said to Harry. ‘Now, my dear old trout, what’s the matter?’
Harry sent Donna out with a bottle of their favourite red wine and returned to his cheffing duties. Libby brought Peter up to speed on both Tristan’s phone call and Richard’s sudden appearance.
‘So what does it all mean?’ she asked when she’d finished. ‘I knew there was more to this than met the eye, but it’s totally confused, now. Shame it didn’t just stay at a simple forged letter.’
‘Have they found it yet?’
‘No one’s told me if they have.’
Libby’s phone trilled.
‘Ben,’ she mouthed to Peter. ‘Hi – I’m in Hal’s back yard with Pete. No – I’m fine, just had an eventful morning. Yes, I’ll tell you later. How’s it going?’
‘Well, how is it going?’ asked Peter when she ended the call.
‘All right, apparently, but there’ve been several beer fanatics who don’t really know what they’re talking about. Good job he’s got that other brewery owner with him.’ She took a healthy sip of wine. ‘Where were we up to?’
‘Up to the moment where you were about to suggest you called Fran, I think,’ said Peter with a grin.
So she did.
There was such a long silence when she’d finished she thought she’d been cut off.
‘Fran?’
‘Sorry. Libby, I think you need to get in touch with Gilbert.’
‘Gilbert? Why?’
‘Because Gideon Law was in touch about Duncan Lucas.’
‘I don’t think you’re making sense,’ said Libby.
‘No? I think Gilbert may be in danger.’
‘Well, not from Lucas or Gideon Law. They’re both dead.’
‘No. I’ll think about it.’ She switched off.
Libby’s phone rang again.
‘What have you been up to now?’
‘Nothing – honestly! I was on my way to see Una in Steeple Lane,’ Libby crossed her fingers, ‘and Tristan rang me. I told you what he said when I left the message. So then I was just going across to Una’s and I heard someone behind me. It was Richard and he was coming from Farm Cottage.’
‘And you hadn’t been?’
‘Well,’ said Libby, going rather pink, ‘I did pop up and have look to see if the tape was still there. And no, I didn’t go in. Anyway, he was really odd. And Ben and I met Philip – you know the barrister – at the pub quiz last night, and he said Richard was really odd when they met in Nethergate on Tuesday. Was it Tuesday?’
She heard Ian sigh.
‘London are sending someone to pick up the two notes from Tristan Scott – yes, he did call DC Trent – and I think we’d better have someone try and pick up Cousin Richard.’
‘What about Gilbert? Fran thinks he’s in danger.’
‘Does she?’
‘Yes. I’ve just spoken to her.’
‘All right. Where did Richard say he was going?’
‘He didn’t. He said he was parked in Lendle Lane and was going to cut through behind the church. He didn’t say if he was going home. In fact I don’t know where he’s been since Tuesday.’
‘I would think not home,’ said Ian. ‘Right. Leave it with me, and thank you.’
Libby relayed the news to Peter and stood up. ‘I’d better go home.’
‘No more wine?’
‘No, I’ll be drunk. And I do not want to fall asleep this afternoon. I need to think.’
When she got home, she called Fran to tell her what Ian had said.
‘I’m just wondering,’ said Fran, ‘why Gilbert is in danger in London if Richard is still down there?’
‘Gilbert’s in danger from Richard?’ gasped Libby. ‘How? Why?’
‘I don’t know!’ said Fran irritably. ‘You know I don’t. Perhaps Ian will find out. Is he coming over?’
‘I’ve no idea. He said he was going to get someone to pick up Richard, but that’s more about his odd behaviour than anything else.’
‘Did you want to come down here for the night? Get away from it all?’ suggested Fran.
‘We’ve got another one-nighter at the theatre,’ said Libby. ‘We didn’t have to do last night’s, but we’re on duty tonight, me behind the bar and Ben hand-holding back stage. He’s going straight over there when he’s finished interviewing. He’ll pop home for something to eat later.’
‘What an exciting life you lead,’ said Fran. ‘See you soon, then.’
Libby made herself a scratch lunch and wandered aimlessly around the garden afterwards, not knowing what to do with herself. She felt she should be doing something, but what, she didn’t know. Then the landline rang.
‘Libby, it’s Richard.’
Libby’s solar plexus went into spasm. ‘Oh, hello,’ she managed.
‘Look.’ His voice sounded strained. ‘Can I come over? I’m still in the village.’
‘Ben’s still not here,’ she said and mentally kicked herself.
‘No, no, that’s all right. I’ll not keep you long. I’ll be about ten minutes.’
Libby immediately rang Ben, Peter and Ian, leaving messages for Ian and Ben but making contact with Peter.
‘I just feel I need someone else here,’ she said.
‘White knight number three coming right over,’ said Peter.
‘Who’s number two?’
‘Hal, of course.’
To Libby’s annoyance, Richard arrived first, looking rather pale, as strained as he had sounded and rather ruffled.
‘How can I help you?’ Libby said, not sitting down and not suggesting he did either.
‘Well.’ Richard looked at the floor and cleared his throat. ‘I just wondered if there were – um – well, if there were any ...’ he trailed off and looked at Sidney, who was staring from the sofa.
There was a sharp knock on the door, and Peter called out: ‘Is anybody home?’
As Libby hadn’t latched it after Richard, Peter opened the door and stepped inside, smiling pleasantly at the visitor.
‘Well, Richard. Back again?’ he said.
‘Yes. I – er – I, well -’ he stopped. ‘I just wanted to know if there were any other papers left behind?’
‘You mean of those Nathan had borrowed? That the historians were examining?’ said Libby. ‘That you took back?’
‘Er – yes.’
‘Not that I know of,’ said Libby. ‘Shall I put the kettle on?’
‘No, no – don’t bother, thank you.’ Richard turned to go.
‘Richard, wait a moment.’ Libby laid a hand on his arm. ‘What did you want more papers for? They’ve all been examined by experts, and you said you had no idea about them.’
Richard stared at her like a rabbit caught in headlights, then lashed out. Luckily, Peter caught his hand as he did so and swept his arm neatly up behind his back.
‘You never forget your training,’ he said lightly. ‘You all right, Lib?’
‘Yes, thank you, number three,’ she said, slightly shakily, and held her phone to her ear. ‘Police, please. Yes, I’ve just been attacked and it’s part of an ongoing enquiry...’
Richard did struggle, but Peter proved more than a match for him, and a patrol car wasn’t long in screeching to a halt in Allhallow’s Lane.
‘Yes, madam,’ said one officer, after they’d removed Richard to the back of the patrol car. ‘We were advised on the way here, to take the offender into custody, and to tell you that DCI Connell would be in touch with you shortly.’
He took short statements from Peter and Libby, tipped his hat and left.
‘Aren’t our policemen wonderful?’ said Peter, squeezing Libby’s shoulders. ‘Now let’s have that tea, petal.’
Shortly afterwards, Ben, Fran and Harry all arrived and had to be told the story.
‘But we don’t know any more, yet,’ said Libby, ‘because DCI Connell hasn’t been i
n touch. And we’re out this evening, so we’ll just have to wait.’
Chapter Thirty-two
When Libby and Ben returned from the theatre that night there was a message on the answerphone from Ian.
‘Didn’t try your mobile as I looked up the theatre diary and guessed you might be there. Believe it or not, I’ve been invited to lunch at the Manor tomorrow, so I’ll tell you then. Very entertaining.’
‘I don’t think murder is all that entertaining,’ Libby said to Ben. ‘But I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.’
‘I’m still wondering what the hell it was all about,’ said Ben. ‘Surely Richard can’t be the murderer? He didn’t know Lucas or Law.’
‘And I want to know why he wanted to know about more papers,’ said Libby. ‘Although – wait! What about the draft letter? Did Michael give that to Ian? That would have been missing, wouldn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said Ben frowning. ‘But that would mean he knew about it, which would also mean he had been through all the documents before he brought them here.’
‘And if he was looking for it, that would explain why he took them away again,’ said Libby. ‘Oh, how frustrating not to know!’
‘Ian will tell us,’ said Ben. ‘Now, nightcap before bed?’
Fran rang in the morning to say Hetty had invited them up for lunch, and they were leaving Sophie in charge of the shop, open as always on summer Sundays.
‘She said it looked like it was going to be one of those explaining lunches.’
Libby laughed. ‘I think it might be, and thank goodness for that.’
And indeed, it was.
Ian tried to make them wait until after lunch for explanations, but Libby was far too impatient.
‘After all,’ she said, ‘I nearly got attacked yesterday!’
‘I don’t see what that’s got to do with it,’ said Ben, and Libby scowled.
‘Well, all right, but it’s complicated,’ said Ian. ‘Yes, please, I will have wine. I’m staying here tonight.’
When they had all settled round the kitchen table and Hetty had carved her platter of roast beef, Ian began.
‘We got some of this from Gilbert and some from Richard,’ he said. ‘Richard tried denying everything at first, until we confronted him with Gilbert’s testimony, then he collapsed like a pricked balloon and told us everything he knew.
‘Apparently, in the beginning, we assume Russell and Nathan worked the forgery themselves. The new shed, although most of it had been stripped, had been their workshop. We found traces of that still there.’
‘Golly! How?’ said Libby.
‘Forensics, I expect,’ said Fran.
‘Forensics, yes. Nathan submitted the fake to Gilbert, who as you know, spotted it and gave it back to Nathan.’
‘Why didn’t Russell submit it?’ asked Ben.
‘According to what Nathan said later, because it would have been easier to track back if it was one of the Wilde family,’ said Ian. ‘Anyway, after that, Nathan and Russell either lost touch or had a row, because when Nathan was ill, he got in touch with Gilbert and gave him the fake, saying he would know what to do with it, and Nathan didn’t want anything to do with it.’
‘So Gilbert - ’ began Libby.
‘Let Ian tell it,’ said Fran.
‘Anyway, Gilbert knew Duncan Lucas, who turned out to be a dodgy arts and antiques dealer - ’
‘So -’ Libby began.
‘Libby!’ said three voices.
‘Anyway, Gilbert approached Lucas and they cooked up the whole nephew scheme together, agreeing, if they could bump the price up, to share any proceeds. Then Lucas spotted the opportunity with National Shakespeare, which, as you know, would have increased interest enormously. However, Gideon Law naturally knew about this, and was keeping a close eye on the whole proceedings. Then, as we know, Michael Allen expressed his doubts about the letter and Duncan withdrew it.
‘From what we can piece together, Law got in touch with Gilbert asking about the connection with Lucas.’
‘Tristan’s notes,’ said Fran.
‘By this time Richard, who, of course had taken note of the tour and the letter, had gone through the old documents, despite having said he didn’t, and found the draft Michael found. He then guessed what had happened, and determined to get it himself.’
‘But why?’ asked Guy. ‘It had been proved to be a fake by then.’
‘But at that particular time that hadn’t been revealed to the public,’ said Ian. ‘So Richard, who’s a lot more devious than he looks, tracked Lucas down and arranged to meet him.’
‘In the hotel in Canterbury?’ asked Ben.
Ian nodded. ‘And wanted the letter, which Lucas refused to give up. Richard said there was talk of selling to an underground collector. But a struggle ensued, and Lucas was killed. Richard was very careful about forensics and leaving nothing of himself behind, and, of course, we didn’t know he existed.’
‘And Law?’
‘Gilbert, apparently, let it out in an exchange with him, when Law and he exchanged those notes. Lucas had told him, Gilbert, that Richard had been in touch, so Gilbert was in effect trying to pass the buck. So Law, in his turn tracked down Richard, arranged to meet him because he guessed what had happened, and we assume, was going to try a little blackmail.’
‘So he met him at the huts.’
‘He did. They both thought it was out of the way enough. And that was that.’
‘Blimey!’ said Libby. ‘And all those red herrings everywhere, when it was really quite straightforward.’
‘I do not call that straightforward,’ said Guy. ‘I shall probably need it explained to me at least twice more.’
‘And I,’ said Harry, bursting through the door followed by Peter, ‘having wangled time off on a Sunday lunchtime, shall need it explained to me now, right from the beginning.’
Everybody groaned.
Author’s Note
Dr John Dee was a real figure, but Titus Watt wasn’t. There is speculation that Shakespeare was a spy, and although the 1597 tour by The Lord Chamberlain’s Men was real, there was, sadly, no stop at Steeple Martin.
Also in the Libby Sarjeant series
Murder in Steeple Martin
Murder at the Laurels
Murder in Midwinter
Murder by the Sea
Murder in Bloom
Murder in the Green
Murder Imperfect
Murder to Music
Murder at the Manor
Murder by Magic
Murder in the Monastery
Murder in the Dark
Murder in a Different Place
Murder Out of Tune
Murder in the Blood
Murder Dancing
Murder on the Run
Murder by the Barrel
Proudly published by Accent Press
www.accentpress.co.uk
More titles in the Libby Sarjeant Series
Murder and the Glovemaker's Son Page 24