Blood Ties (20 page)

Kevin left his side and his space was replaced by a large black dog with a curious nose and a tongue that licked his eyes. Napoleon's attempt at sympathy.

Naomi knelt beside him. ‘What happened?'

‘Someone hit me on the head.' He felt her fingers exploring the wound, protested that it hurt.

‘Is this what you wanted?' Kevin asked.

Peering at him through a haze, his eyes still refusing to focus properly, Alec saw Kevin holding a red folder and a little box, the padlock still in place. Despite the hurt, he smiled. ‘Found what the key fits,' he said and then it all went black again.

From
Roads to Ruin
by E Thame

So, as far as we can ascertain, the Kirkwood hoard is still there for the finding
.

TWENTY

L
ate afternoon, the day after Alec had been attacked, he was resting in their bedroom at the B&B, having been released from the hospital only an hour or so before. Kevin had called the police – Blezzard, ironically – and the ambulance, and Alec had been taken to the local A&E but he didn't recall any of it.

Vaguely he remembered Blezzard talking to him in hospital and the fact that the DI was not amused. Then he'd slept, and he had eventually persuaded the doctors to let him leave that following afternoon. They had been of the opinion that this was a bad idea, and the way he felt now he was inclined to agree.

The bedroom door opened. ‘You have a visitor,' Naomi said. She came in and sat down on the edge of the bed. Adam Hart followed, carrying a large box with a selection of folders balancing on top.

‘I've just heard what happened,' he said. ‘If I'd known I'd have delayed coming over. Sure you're all right?'

He was, Alec realized, making a great effort not to ‘boom', but he still sounded incredibly loud. Alec tried to smile and made an effort to sit up. Adam dumped the boxes and tried to help, plumping pillows and fussing. Alec, eventually arranged, smiled his thanks. ‘What have you got there?'

‘Oh, boxes. Eddy's things. I've brought over the Lorenz papers – I thought you'd like a look – and a copy of Eddy's manuscript.'

‘You had the Lorenz papers?'

‘Well, yes. Eddy left them with me so I could fact check. Didn't I say?'

Alec laughed, then regretted it profoundly. ‘No. That was one of the things I'd gone looking for.'

‘Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe I could have saved you a bash on the head. I've brought you something else as well, but I'm not sure . . . Look, when Eddy lost Karen in the car crash it so happened I'd got friends in various places that I thought could be useful. Well, to cut a long story down, I got a copy of the accident report. Eddy read it, of course, but somehow or other it ended up filed at my place along with a lot of other stuff.'

‘Somehow or other?'

‘Well, Eddy stored a lot of his papers in my spare room. Much of it is his research into what happened to Karen.'

‘Research?'

‘Investigation, I suppose you'd call it. Eddy called everything research and he was as meticulous about this as he was about everything else. I just thought, you know, seeing as you're interested.'

‘Thank you,' Alec said. ‘Did he find anything?'

‘No, I don't believe so, not then, though recently he asked me to dig it out again, which is how I knew where to lay hands on it now. I had the feeling he'd found something new, but . . .'

‘He didn't say what?'

‘No.' Adam sounded uncomfortable. ‘To be honest, we argued a little about this. Oh, not enough to spoil the friendship, but we did reach the point of not discussing it any more. Not Karen's death. That fell off the list, if you like. I thought he should be leaving things alone after all this time. What good could it do reopening old wounds? But Eddy seemed decided that something more could be done now.'

‘You don't know what?'

‘Not really. He wanted to look at something in the file about a man arrested for drink driving on the same road. They checked out his car and there was nothing to connect him to the scene, but Eddy seemed to have found something else about him. I really don't know more than that, I'm afraid.'

‘You didn't ask him?' Naomi asked. ‘I'd have thought that would have been the natural thing.'

‘Oh, no doubt you're right.' Adam sounded miserable. ‘Look, Eddy was the most delightful companion, but the thing with Eddy was he'd get these sudden enthusiasms, sudden interests. They'd absorb him, utterly, and if you didn't share them, then . . . I won't say he shut you out, but he just didn't share that part of his life with you any more. When Karen died I did everything I could to help him come to terms with it and reading the accident report for himself really did seem to help. When he started this all over again I didn't feel . . . It didn't feel appropriate and I told him so. After that he ceased to mention it, and when I asked him he just shrugged and moved the conversation on. Eddy was an odd man in some ways. A good friend, but not someone you ever knew completely, if you see what I mean. I don't think anyone ever knew the complete Eddy Thame, not after Martha died.'

After Adam left, Alec tried to read through the accident report but his eyes still wouldn't focus and his head began to pound once more. Naomi firmly took it away from him. ‘You are meant to be resting.'

‘Yes, boss.' He closed his eyes, mind racing, but not in any particularly conclusive direction. ‘How did you get on with Kevin? What was in the notebooks?'

‘Well, as we already knew, there was a list of finds, including the cedar tree seal ring and various others. Some of which Kevin knew about. Eddy had recorded compass positions for each find and Kevin reckons he would have plotted them on a map, apparently that's what he usually did, but he doesn't remember seeing one. He assumed Eddy just had random finds out of that field, not the quantity he actually turned up. I think he was a little put out; he'd shared everything with Eddy.'

‘Picking and choosing on the information front seems to have been typical behaviour for Eddy though. Any clue as to why he'd been so secretive?'

‘No, not really. Kevin reckons Eddy must have been putting everything together first and then planning on surprising him with it. I mean, after all, he gave the notebooks and diary to Kevin, didn't he?'

‘Gave them secretly. Which brings us back to the notion that he was worried about something, that he wanted to hide them or at least keep them safe. What was in the box?'

‘Ah, the box. Actually, we didn't get to look. I just shoved that and the folder into my bag, and Kevin and I followed the ambulance. He's getting a friend to take him out so he can bring our car back later on, when he gets back from work.'

‘Ah, of course, it's a Monday for the rest of the world. A workday. I'm losing track. Get the box. The key's in—'

‘My purse. Don't worry. Right.' She rummaged, came back with the folder and the tin box. ‘You want to do the honours? Incidentally, I think you're going to have to talk to Blezzard about all this. You were rambling about boxes of buried treasure when he came to the hospital last night.'

‘Oh, God, really?' He took the box from her and looked more closely. About the size and shape of a pack of after dinner mints, it was made of green tin, textured with a mock leather paint job. The little latch was closed with a shiny new padlock but had probably simply fastened with a hasp in its earlier existence. He fitted the key into the padlock, momentarily afraid that it wouldn't fit, and then opened the lid.

‘Bloody hell!'

‘What? What's in there? You're not telling me he really found treasure, are you?'

‘I'm not sure I'd go that far, but . . .' He placed an object in Naomi's outstretched hand. ‘That, I'm guessing, is the seal ring. You can feel the intaglio. Definitely a tree of some kind. More of the coins that Kevin found. Seven, eight of them, all the same. And a locket; that's gold, too, by the look of it.' He placed that also in Naomi's palm.

‘Heavy,' she said. She ran her fingers over the surface. ‘Engraved?'

‘That Cedar tree again on one side. Some sort of starry design on the other.'

‘Oh, yes. There was a stone set at the centre, I think. It feels like a gallery of some kind.'

‘I think you could be right. Let me see if I can get it open. Did he mention anything like this in the notebooks?'

‘Not a locket, no. We found references to more James coins, so we assumed he must have found more of these medal things. But we didn't read through everything. Does it open?'

‘It's tight, it got a bit warped, but yes, it opens. Empty.' He sounded disappointed. ‘So we can assume all this stuff belonged to the Kirkwoods and was part of the hoard the daughter and the servant were sent to hide. What happened to them, I wonder.'

‘Probably in Eddy's book,' Naomi said. ‘It looks as though there was some truth to the stories after all. Alec, you don't think he was killed for this, do you?'

‘People have been murdered for less, but no, it's hard to figure that was the reason. Unless, of course, someone suspected there was more and that Eddy had found it?'

Later, after the application of large quantities of painkillers and tea, Alec read about Catherine Kirkwood:

The night Catherine Kirkwood left her father's home, she knew, despite his assurances, that she'd never see him again. The last battle had been fought and the Kirkwoods had chosen the losing side
.

Catherine's brother, Thomas, had ridden out ten days before to join the forces of the Duke of Monmouth as he headed north. He had taken with him a dozen men from the estate and, more importantly, gold, especially struck for the occasion. More of the same – little medallions in silver and gold commemorating a victory they had been so certain of – remained at Kirkwood Hall
.

TWENTY-ONE

W
right and Cole, solicitors, occupied a mews-style office reached through an arch and across a courtyard. Susan had told them it had once been part of a coach house. The building, here in Somerton, was of more golden tone than the one a few miles away in Matthews' village of Walton, and Alec decided he preferred it.

‘If we bought a house down here,' he told Naomi, ‘I'd want it to be of this stuff rather than the grey.'

Mr Cole was expecting them. A short, rounded man, slightly balding, he was wearing small rounded glasses that framed even smaller rounded eyes. He had a blob of a nose and a beam of a smile. He welcomed them into his office and bid them sit down.

‘Mrs Rawlins, Susan, has authorized me to give you every cooperation,' he said. ‘So what can I do for you?' He smiled at Alec. ‘I had a meeting with Inspector Blezzard yesterday,' he said. ‘He seems to regard you as something of an interfering nuisance.'

‘That sounds about right,' Alec confirmed. ‘I do seem to be getting in the way – of someone, anyway.'

‘Yes, he mentioned you'd been hit over the head. I did rather get the impression he thought it should have been a bit harder.'

Alec laughed, then regretted it. His head still wasn't up to laughter. ‘I think he feels I'm poking my nose into his business,' he agreed. ‘I imagine I'd feel the same, but there you go.'

‘Anyway, about Mrs Rawlins. Edward left just about everything to her. There are some small gifts to friends, his books, his finds, small bequests to charities. The largest is a sum of five thousand pounds which goes to Kevin Hargreaves, with the proviso that he uses at least a part of it to pursue his education. The balance from the house, the trust fund and a variety of investments goes to Susan.'

‘No mention of family?'

‘No, none at all, and the will is very specific. My colleague, Mr Wright, actually drew it up. He's now deceased, but he was very careful, in accordance with Mr Thame's request. He even arranged for a medical assessment to be done so that no one could oppose the will on those grounds.'

‘Which implies someone might.'

‘Indeed.' Mr Cole regarded him with his small, round, bright blue eyes. ‘And it seems he was right.'

‘Oh?'

Mr Cole sighed. ‘In my experience death tends to bring relatives you didn't know existed out of the woodwork. Of course, many just feel bad about not having been in touch and want to make up for the oversight by, how shall we say, celebrating with the proceeds of bereavement.'

‘And have such relations appeared in this case? Susan didn't mention anything.'

‘No, I thought I'd wait until today, until I'd spoken to you both. Susan seems to value your advice. The person in question, claiming to be a nephew, arrived in my office last evening, just as we were about to close. He had various letters and family documents that he said proved who he was. I told him, frankly, it didn't matter who he was, Edward Thames's will was very forthright and very straightforward, but he didn't seem equipped, shall we say, to accept my word for that. He gave me the name of his solicitor and I called my opposite number this morning and read the will to him. He agrees with me that the idea of challenging it is unwise, to say the least. Particularly as there has been no contact between Edward Thame and his family in the past thirty or more years.'