Jonathan put on a pair of glasses that he removed from his shirt pocket and began to pore over the two documents.
Morton watched in silence as the retired solicitor’s eyebrows twitched and dived in response to what he was reading. At various intervals he reached out for his wine and, without taking his eyes off the indenture, took a sip, then set it back down again.
‘Here you go,’ Jenny said, handing Morton a glass of wine.
‘Thank you. Cheers,’ Morton said, taking a sip, all the while watching Jonathan as he continued to study the indentures. It seemed to take an age for him to reach the end and, when finally he did, he returned to a previous section and traced his fingers along something that had interested him.
At last, he placed his glasses on the table and looked at Morton. ‘Very interesting copy,’ he said with a nod. ‘What is it that you wanted to know? I mean, it’s a fairly straightforward lease and release: the most popular and widespread method of recording the sale of property or land from the seventeenth century up until about 1845.’
‘Is it normal?’ Morton queried, simply. ‘The woman who was granted the land, Eliza Lovekin, was the only person issued with any freehold rights on the America Ground—everyone else was issued with a seven year lease then no more were issued and the land was cleared.’
Jonathan frowned and nodded, as he glanced down at the indentures. ‘They are normal, yes. It’s only the context that you’ve just described which sounds abnormal.’
‘What about the price she paid, though?’ Morton questioned. ‘This is a family with little money—and she paid five pounds and three shillings for a sizeable parcel of land? That sounds cheap to me.’
Jonathan pulled a face that suggested his disagreement. ‘It could be cheap, yes, but it all depends on the circumstances. A flat in Mayfair today will set you back a few million quid but the same flat in Brixton will only set you back a couple of hundred thousand; it’s all context driven.’
Morton murmured his agreement, but still couldn’t quite get why Eliza was the only person to receive a freehold parcel of land and at such a cheap price. That was, perhaps, a question which might never be answered, but he had another burning enquiry with which he hoped Jonathan could help him. ‘One week after she signed that lease, Eliza was murdered.’
‘Oh my goodness,’ Jenny interrupted. ‘How awful.’
‘And I’m wondering if it’s a coincidence. If she had been murdered and the indentures lost or stolen, would someone else have the rights to the land?’
Jonathan drew in a long breath, exhaled loudly then sipped at his wine. ‘Did she have a husband or children?’
‘Her husband had died just before her but she had three surviving daughters.’
‘With the original indentures, then they could have inherited the land, yes.’
‘And what if the girls were unaware that their mother owned the land?’ Morton ventured, proposing a theory that had been brewing in his mind. ‘What if the person who murdered Eliza also stole the rights to the land?’
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ Jonathan answered. ‘The person who stole the rights wouldn’t have a legal entitlement to them—that’s why I asked about a husband or children.’
‘Okay,’ Morton replied, his theory suddenly dismantled before his eyes. ‘Right, so if only her descendants are entitled, would someone alive today, who could prove descent, be able to claim the land back?’
Jonathan laughed and tossed back his head. ‘Now there’s a bloody complicated question! Christ!’
‘But what’s the answer?’ Jenny pleaded. ‘Come on!’
Jonathan ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I’d need to look into it more. The problem is that most claims are covered by the Limitation Act of 1980, which would mean that a claimant would have long lost their right to bring an action in most cases, unless exceptional circumstances can be proven.’
‘It’s all about the circumstances,’ Jenny chipped in.
‘But you don’t think it’s impossible?’ Morton ventured.
‘No, it’s not impossible,’ Jonathan replied, standing and reaching for the indentures. ‘Let me take a copy of it and I’ll do some digging for you—is that okay?’
‘Yes, please—that would be great,’ Morton said.
Jonathan carefully scooped up the documents and disappeared from the room.
With an uncertain look on her face, Jenny asked, ‘Are you going to try and trace Eliza’s descendants, then?’
‘Well, it’s not really within my remit, but the woman who has commissioned the research owns a painting of Eliza, which she plans to sell at an auction. I’m now wondering, though, if the item of value is not the painting at all, but the indentures.’ Morton shrugged. ‘At this stage, it’s more about digging into the reasons why she was murdered; the rights to the land are just one possible motive.’
‘Well, it’ll give him something to get his teeth into; I don’t think he’s really one for retirement after all. For years we talked about travelling the world when we’d retired, but with all my dealings with the Mansfield claim we’ve only managed three rainy nights in Bognor so far!’ she chuckled. ‘Bognor, I ask you.’
Jonathan returned and handed Morton back the documents. ‘I’ll see what I can come up with, but no promises.’
‘That’s brilliant—thank you very much,’ Morton said, taking a last swig of wine. ‘Well, I’d better be getting back before I get into trouble at home. It was lovely to see you again, Jenny, and nice to meet you, Jonathan.’
‘You too,’ Jonathan replied.
‘Give me a shout if you need any assistance,’ Jenny said with a smile.
‘I will do.’
The three of them stood and made their way to the front door.
‘Cheerio,’ Jonathan said, shaking Morton’s hand.
‘Goodbye,’ Morton answered, pecking Jenny on the cheek, then making his way to his car. With a final
