The Last Enemy(30)

‘When we were in the cell, Guy told me that his father had sold everything to clear the family’s debts.’

‘I thought you said the place was given to the National Trust.’

‘It was.’ Jake nodded. ‘So what was likely to have been sold?’

‘Paintings?’

Jake shook his head.

‘I bet they’re still at the hall,’ he said. ‘Any paintings are usually part of the history that goes with the place. Portraits of the family, that kind of thing.’

Lauren looked at Jake, her face filling with excitement at the implication of what Jake was saying.

‘The books in the library!’ she said.

‘The old and rare books, anyway,’ said Jake. ‘And Guy wouldn’t have known which books had been sold because he was out of the country at the time.’

‘So how do we find out?’

Jake had his iPhone out and was already searching the internet as he said, ‘We have a word with Hapgood, Ainsworth and Ainsworth.’





Chapter 14




The building that housed the firm of Hapgood, Ainsworth and Ainsworth, of Sevenoaks in Kent, looked as if it had been there for 500 years; and possibly housing that same firm of solicitors during all that time.

Jake held open the door and Lauren stepped in, straight into the sound of raised voices. Or, rather, one raised voice, that of a girl of about fifteen, while the older woman she was talking to tried to calm her down.

‘I won’t be put off!’ shouted the girl. ‘I want to see Mr Ainsworth!’

‘And I’ve told you that Mr Ainsworth is busy,’ said the woman, clearly the receptionist. She turned to Jake and Lauren and said, ‘Yes? Can I help you?’

‘Lauren Graham and Jake Wells,’ said Lauren. ‘We have an appointment with Mr Ainsworth.’

‘About de Courcey Hall,’ added Jake. ‘We spoke on the phone.’

Before the receptionist could reply, the young girl turned to Jake and Lauren and burst out angrily, ‘They’re a bunch of crooks, all of them! And this lot are as bad, protecting them!’

The woman’s face tightened.

‘I’m afraid I must ask you to leave, or I will call the police,’ she said.

‘Call them!’ challenged the girl. ‘It’s about time the police investigated what’s going on!’

‘That kind of talk is slander,’ said the woman primly. ‘And saying it in front of witnesses could land you in serious trouble. Very serious trouble.’

The girl glared back. She seemed to be on the point of saying something, but instead she scowled, turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ said the receptionist.

‘Who was she?’ asked Jake, intrigued. The girl obviously had some involvement with the hall.

‘I’m afraid she’s just a disturbed young woman with an imagined grievance.’

The woman pressed a button on the intercom on her desk, and announced, ‘Mr Ainsworth. It’s Mr Wells and Ms Graham to see you.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Ward,’ Jake and Lauren heard the man’s voice say. ‘Please send them up.’

Mrs Ward clicked off the intercom and gestured towards a flight of stairs at the back of the small reception area.

‘First floor,’ she said. ‘Mr Ainsworth will be waiting for you.’

Jake and Lauren mounted the dark wooden stairs that seemed to be as old as the rest of the building, with the same unevenness. A man in his fifties was waiting for them at the top of the landing, and he shook their hands, and then ushered them into his small office.

‘You said on the phone this was about the de Courcey estate,’ he said. ‘Are you involved in some way with the estate?’

‘Possibly,’ said Jake. ‘We’re here following a meeting we had with Guy de Courcey.’

‘Ah yes, Mr Guy. Or, as he is now, Lord de Courcey, the new earl.’ Ainsworth nodded. ‘I must admit I had been disappointed not to have heard from him since he returned to the UK.’

‘You mean he hasn’t been in touch with you at all?’ pressed Lauren.

Ainsworth shook his head.

‘In fact, I wouldn’t have even known he was back in the country if it wasn’t for the fact that a firm called Pierce Randall contacted me to advise me that he was transferring his personal business to them.’

‘That must have been disappointing for you,’ said Lauren sympathetically.

Ainsworth looked at her quizzically.

‘Possibly,’ he said. ‘Although it has to be said that representing Mr Guy has sometimes been quite . . . involving.’

‘Like getting him out of foreign prisons.’ Jake grinned.