I am sorry to have to tell you that during a burglary here over Christmas much of value was stolen, including your collection of clocks. I have today received a cheque in settlement from the insurance company and I enclose their invoice, showing that they sent me a total of L23,500.I also enclose a cheque for L12,000 which was the insured value of your seven clocks. You bought my silence by leaving the clocks with me, and I am reimbursing you only because I fear you might return one day to claim them. You would be very angry, I think, to discover I'd cheated you a second time. I trust this means we will not need to communicate again.
Yours, Mathilda.
Duggan's amiable face looked up in bewilderment. 'I still don't understand.'
'They weren't stolen, were they?'
'But she gave you twelve thousand pounds for them. That was a small fortune in 1961.'
'It was fraud. She told me the clocks were stolen when they weren't. I accepted the money in good faith. Never occurred to me she was lying.' He tapped his walking-stick angrily on the floor. 'Two ways of looking at it. One, she stole the clocks herself and defrauded the insurance company. A crime, in my book. Two other things were stolen to the value of twenty-three and a half thousand and she saw an opportunity to take the clocks off me. Also a crime. They were my property.' His ancient mouth turned down at the corners. 'She knew their value, knew they'd be the best asset she had. Been to Sotheby's myself. Rough estimate, of course, with only descriptions in the inventory to go by, but we're talking over a hundred thousand at auction, probably a great deal more. I want them back, sir.'
Duggan considered for a moment. 'I don't think the situation is quite as clear-cut as you seem to think, Mr. Gillespie. There's a burden of proof here. First, you have to show that Mrs. Gillespie deliberately defrauded you; second, you have to show that the clocks in Mrs. Gillespie's estate are the precise clocks that were left to you by your father.'
'You've read both inventories. What else could they be?'
For the moment, Duggan avoided the question of how James Gillespie knew there was an inventory of Mathilda's estate or what was on it. Once broached, it was going to be a very unpleasant can of worms. 'Similar clocks,' he said bluntly. 'Maybe even the same clocks, but you will have to prove she didn't buy them back at a later stage. Let's say the collection was stolen, and she passed on the compensation to you as she was supposed to. Let's say, then, that she set out to replace the collection because she had developed an interest in horology. She could quite legitimately have used her own money to buy similar clocks at auction. In those circumstances, you would have no claim on them at all. There is also the undeniable fact that you had a duty, encumbent on you as the owner, to establish to your satisfaction that the money you were paid in 1961 represented a full and fair settlement by the insurance company for the theft of your goods. In accepting twelve thousand pounds, Mr. Gillespie, you effectively did that. You abandoned the clocks to sail to Hong Kong, accepted handsome compensation for them without a murmur, and only wish to reclaim them now because after forty years you believe they might have been worth hanging on to. I will admit that this is a grey area, which will require Counsel's opinion, but off the top of my head, I'd say you haven't a leg to stand on. It's an old saying, but a true one. Possession is nine tenths of the law.'
Gillespie was not so easily intimidated. 'Read her diaries,' he growled. 'They'll prove she stole them off me. Couldn't resist boasting to herself, that was Mathilda's trouble. Put every damn thing on those miserable pages, then read them over and over again to remind herself how clever she was. Wouldn't have left out a triumph iike this. Read the diaries.'
The younger man kept his face deliberately impassive. 'I will. As a matter of interest, do you know where she kept them? It'll save me the trouble of looking for them.'
'Top shelf of the library. Disguised as the works of Willy Shakespeare.' He took a card from his wallet. 'You're a solicitor, Mr. Duggan, so I'm trusting you to be honest. That's where I'm staying. Expect to hear from you on this in a couple of days or so. Grateful if you'd treat it as a matter of urgency.' He levered himself to his feet with his walking-stick.
'I'd much prefer to deal through your solicitor, Mr. Gillespie.'
'I don't have one, sir.' He spoke with a touching dignity. 'My pension won't allow it. I am relying on you being a gentleman. Presumably they still exist in this wretched country. Precious little else does.' He made his way to the door. 'Perhaps you think I treated Mathilda badly by deserting her and the child. Perhaps you think I deserved to be stolen from. Read the diaries She'll tell you herself what really happened.'
Duggan waited until the door had closed, then reached for the telephone and dialled Learmouth Police Station.
The information about Mathilda's diaries was telephoned through to Cooper as he was about to leave Cedar House. He replaced the receiver with a frown. He'd been over that house from top to bottom, and he was as sure as he could be that there were no handwritten diaries in the library or anywhere else. 'Sorry, ladies, I shall have to trespass on your time a little longer. Will you come with me, please?'
Puzzled, Joanna and Sarah followed him across the hall and into the library.
'What are you looking for?' asked Joanna as he stood staring at the top shelf.
He reached up and tapped the thick mahogany ledge that ran, like its fellows, across the width of the wall. 'Do either of you see the collected works of William Shakespeare up here?'
'They're all over the place,' said Joanna dismissively. 'Which particular edition are you looking for?'
'The one that's supposed to be on this shelf.' He glanced at her. 'Your mother's diaries. I'm told she kept them on the top shelf, disguised as the works of William Shakespeare.'
Joanna looked genuinely surprised. 'What diaries?'
'Our information is that she kept a record of everything that happened to her.'
'I didn't know.'
'The informant was very positive.'
Joanna gestured helplessly. 'I didn't know,' she said again.
'Who's your informant?' asked Sarah curiously.
Cooper was watching Joanna as he spoke. 'James Gillespie,' he said. 'Mrs. Lascelles's step-father.'
This time the look of surprise lacked conviction. It was left to Sarah to make the obvious response. 'I thought he abandoned Mathilda years ago,' she said thoughtfully. 'How would he know whether she kept diaries or not?
