His meeting with an affable Lieutenant Colonel Jarvis was brief and disappointing. Kingston learned very little. Their records confirmed that Ryder, at the time a lieutenant, was with the 4th Battalion Somerset Light Infantry. His regiment had landed in Normandy two weeks after D-day. Three months later, in Holland, his company had been separated from the battalion and had eventually been captured by the Germans but not without putting up a courageous fight. Ryder was subsequently awarded a Military Cross. That was it.
From there, Kingston walked to a bookshop in East Street where, after browsing for fifteen minutes, he bought a new thriller and an Amy Tan book, as a surprise for Jamie. A quick trip to the library and he was on his way back to Wickersham.
At three fifteen that afternoon a silver BMW pulled up to the front door at Wickersham. The man who got out of the car was average height with a compact build. Balding on top, the remainder of his grey-speckled hair was shaven, military style. He wore dark aviator glasses, a leather bomber jacket and tan trousers with a mobile phone hooked on to his belt. In several athletic strides, he reached the door and rang the bell. A wait of less than a minute and Jamie opened the door.
‘Good afternoon,’ the man said, smiling. ‘Are you Jamie Gibson?’ There was a gravelly sound to his voice, as if he were getting over a cold. Despite the fashionable five o’-clock shadow, the man looked pleasant enough.
‘Yes,’ Jamie replied, a little uncertain of what to expect.
‘Forgive me for arriving unannounced. I should have called you to let you know I was coming. I’m Julian Fox. We talked on the phone about two weeks ago.’
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ said Jamie. ‘I apologize. Now I remember. ’
‘Here,’ he said, handing her a card that he had extracted from the wallet in his hip pocket.
She did remember the phone call but not too well. The man had said something about wanting to ask her about some paintings that Major Ryder had owned jointly with an art dealer in France. She recalled agreeing to see him. She had meant to tell Latimer about the call when he was over for dinner but what with work on the gardens and all the excitement about the skeleton, it had completely slipped her mind.
‘Come on in,’ she said, letting him pass, then closing the door behind her. She showed him across the entrance hall into the living room, gesturing to the sofa. ‘Please, sit down. May I offer you some coffee?’ she asked.
‘That would be nice,’he nodded.
Jamie left the room to find Dot and within less than a minute, returned. She sat down opposite him, hands in her lap. ‘What’s this all about, then?’
Fox leaned forward slightly, ‘I’m here on behalf of a client of mine, a Monsieur Girard.’
‘Are you a lawyer?’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘No—no, I’m not.’ Without further explanation as to the relationship with his client, he went on. ‘Through a mutual acquaintance we recently learned that Major Ryder had passed away. Soon after, we discovered that you had inherited his estate.’ He paused briefly, rubbing his hands together. ‘You see, many years back, Girard was in business with Major Ryder.’
As he spoke, she was conscious of looking at his eyes more than one would in an ordinary conversation. They were unnaturally blue, with rather a disconcerting frankness to them.
‘They were partners in an art gallery,’ he said.
‘An art gallery?’
‘Yes, in Paris.’ He paused. ‘You were not aware, then?’
‘No, I wasn’t.’ She had to take her eyes off his for a moment. Picking up his card, she studied it as she spoke. ‘In fact, I know very little about Major Ryder. Tell me more.’
The card was very plain. Just his name, a London address and phone number. No title or company name.
Fox leaned back in the sofa and crossed his legs. ‘After World War II, Ryder and Girard went into business together. I’m sure you’re aware that Ryder was an army officer.’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, Girard had a small gallery at the time and scratched out a living but couldn’t afford to buy paintings of any importance, nothing of quality. Then Ryder came on the scene. It was evident from the start that he knew a lot about art—he said he was a collector himself. Within a short time, Ryder invested a substantial amount of money in the business, allowing them to move to a larger and better location and start purchasing and selling paintings of much better provenance, higher value.’
‘That must have taken a large amount of money, surely?’
‘Yes and no. You have to realize that this was nearly sixty years ago and there were lots of paintings and other works of art coming back on the market after the German occupation. But, yes, you’re right. I understand that Ryder’s investment was sizeable. But then again, according to Girard, he always seemed to have money when it was needed.’