A Legacy of Murder_A Kate Hamilton Mystery by Connie Berry

Author:Connie Berry [Berry, Connie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07NKQDYM3
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS
Published: 2019-10-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Wednesday, December 16th

Overnight a line of storms swept across the rolling hills of Suffolk on their way to the North Sea and Scandinavia, leaving behind a damp, bone-numbing chill.

Quintessential English weather.

I pulled on my heaviest sweater and scrunched into the warm turtleneck as I zipped my down jacket and headed for the Hall.

The path was soggy. Low, flat clouds hid the sun.

Today was the DNA testing. Tom had asked the female interns—and me—to stay out of the Stables from ten AM until noon. Privacy concerns.

Lady Barbara was my concern at the moment. Finchley Hall was facing more than financial woes. The murders threatened everything she’d worked for since her husband’s death. The ring could make a real difference. If it really was Lady Susannah’s.

A robin with a coral breast and white underbelly perched on a bush, gorging on the fat, violet-colored berries. All manner of creatures took shelter and nourishment from the Finchley estate. Generations of local families had depended upon the Hall for survival as well. Some still did. The success of the Hoard exhibit was more than a matter of local pride.

Late the previous evening, Alex had texted me the photo she’d taken of the ring alongside a photo of the ring in the portrait. If not the same ring, they were near-identical twins. One of my unbreakable rules in the antiques trade is to tell the truth, the whole truth. If something has been damaged or repaired, I point it out. When there is a question about provenance, I make it known. Lady Barbara needed the facts. All of them.

I stifled a yawn. Three or four hours of fitful sleep are not enough. I’d fallen asleep quickly, only to wake at three AM—the hour of the wolf, some call it, when worries and fears magnify. Were my misgivings about the ring overblown? Was Christine about to get her heart broken again? Was Finchley Hall next on the thieves’ agenda?

Loss was becoming a theme at Finchley Hall. The loss of the Hoard and the rediscovery of it more than two hundred fifty years later. Lady Susannah’s portrait, lost and recovered by Lady Barbara’s husband. The blood-red ring, lost in plain sight.

Lady Barbara’s son, the greatest loss.

In the distance two figures moved in my direction. As they neared, I recognized Albert Mugg and Arthur Gedge. They were probably on their way to the Stables for the DNA testing.

Mugg nodded curtly. “Morning.”

“Miss.” Old Arthur pulled on his flat cap. He looked almost cheerful, as if the suggestion he’d fathered a child was a fine joke. Or a compliment.

I pushed the doorbell. In minutes the heavy entrance door of Finchley Hall opened.

“Good morning, miss.” Francie grinned as she stood back to let me in. This time she wore a gray smock with a white collar and cuffs. Her hair was pulled back into a net-covered bun.

She took my jacket and led me into Lady’s Barbara’s sitting room.

Lady Barbara sat with Vivian. The Bobbsey twins.

“Thank you, Briggs,” Lady Barbara said.

Briggs? How many incarnations did that woman have?

“Yes, madam.

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