‘More likely he would’ve wanted to kill Ryder, if you ask me. Sounds like he had enough reasons. After twenty years in prison he had had plenty of time to think about it.’
‘Possibly. Given what he had endured, most men would want revenge.’
‘But if it really was Kershaw who ended up in the well, something must have gone awfully wrong.’
‘It looks that way. We’ll never know for sure but we do know that one way or another Kershaw ended up dead. Ryder might have done it intentionally or it could have been an accident. Either way, it appears that Ryder decided, for good reason, not to call the police but instead disposed of Kershaw’s body down the well. Most likely he would have done that from inside the house before he blocked up that passageway. In fact, come to think of it, that would be the reason why he sealed it.’
‘If it was an accident, why wouldn’t Ryder have called the police?’
‘My guess is that it happened while Ryder was actively dealing in stolen art. And the last thing he’d want would be the police investigating a suspicious death at Wickersham; having the story splashed all over the newspapers. No, it was the perfect solution as far as he was concerned. Nobody would ever find out, certainly not in his lifetime.’
Jamie sighed. ‘Well, we’re no closer to knowing why Ryder decided to leave me his estate. We’ll probably never know the answer to that question, either. All we seem to end up with are endless hypotheses.’
‘I think we will, Jamie. Now we’ve got this diary.’
‘What about the watch, though? The initials?’
‘I know,’ Kingston muttered. ‘That does complicate things. If it was Kit’s or Kershaw’s, maybe one of them bought it second hand, after all.’
‘You seem to be able to find an explanation for everything. You would have made a good politician, Lawrence.’
Kingston smiled. ‘I know but at least we have more than we had before. I think we’re getting close to working this whole thing out. You must want to know now what motivated Ryder?’
She shrugged. ‘To be truthful, I’m not so sure. All along I’ve been trying to avoid the question: forget about the past and do what I feel is best for Wickersham—something that would make the Ryder family proud. You know how I feel, Lawrence, we’ve talked enough about it. I must tell you, though, I felt a bit uncomfortable looking at all those pictures of Ryder’s family; before there were no faces and now, too many. I kept wondering where I fitted in, if I’m related in any distant way or if he chose me for some other reason. I think the photos have brought me closer to the family, I feel more a part of it. But there’s his dealing in stolen art and the possibility that he may have been responsible for doing away with Kershaw. I’m confused.’
‘I think we’re nearly there, Jamie. I’m convinced there’s just one small thing we’ve been overlooking. One last piece of the puzzle that, when it locks into place, will explain everything that’s happened since you arrived and long before, too.’
Chapter Twenty-seven
Kingston looked out of the window of the living room, thinking of nothing in particular. Over the last forty-eight hours, he and Jamie had exhausted their post-mortem of the events in the catacombs. There was nothing more to discuss. They had heard from Roger Ferguson who was none the worse for wear, straining at the bit to return to what he warned would be a lengthy and painstaking examination, photographic documentation and cataloguing of the priory catacombs involving specialists in several sciences.
Jamie had left the room minutes earlier to check on her baking. He thought she said Toll House cookies but couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was Tow House? She was still looking for a local woman to take Dot’s place and meanwhile making do herself.
They were both waiting for Inspector Chadwick, who had called the day before requesting to ‘have a word’ about the incident with Fox.
It was a particularly sparkling day. Outside Kingston could see across the new lawns and was admiring the herbaceous borders which, although now in their infancy, would fill out nicely in a season or two. The big shrubs they’d planted—including Magnolia sinensis, berberis, phlomis, cotinus and various forms of viburnum—would form a dark variegated backdrop for the smaller shrubs and flowering plants in the centre and at the front of the border: varieties of old roses, potentilla, philadelphus, abutilon, Geranium psilostemon, penstemon, knautia, hellebores, lychnis, salvia, delphinium, anchusa, iris and a dozen more.
The day before, he’d called Jennifer Ingels at the Art Loss Register to tell her about the paintings. Naturally, she couldn’t wait to see them and offered a half-hearted apology, confessing that she had been dubious about a good part of what Kingston had told her when they met. Until ownership was established or it was determined what should be done with them, the paintings were to be stored at a fine-arts storage depot in London.