‘I came down here – opened the door… and it was all gone… and Wright – well, Knowles,’ said Ramsay, pointing at the floor, ‘was there. Face down. His hands were missing. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It didn’t look real.’
‘Face down, you say,’ said Strike, who was making notes.
‘That’s right. And there was dried blood around the head and…’
Ramsay swallowed, looking sick.
‘News reports said he was naked,’ said Strike.
‘Yes, he was, except – yes, he was naked.’
‘I heard a hallmark was carved into the body’s back?’
‘How do you know about that?’ Ramsay gasped, staring up at Strike.
‘It was mentioned in a news story,’ lied the detective.
‘Oh… I didn’t think they were going to give that out… yes, it was the Salem Cross. The Murdoch hallmark.’
Strike made a note, then said,
‘And the body was naked, except for…?’
‘I… DCI Truman told me not to talk about that.’
‘Really?’ said Strike, looking down at Ramsay.
‘Well, you see… they’d tried to make the killing look… Truman said it would mean more trouble for me. I saw his point. Considerate of him. I liked Truman, he was the only one who seemed interested in getting our silver back, but then he was taken off the case. We weren’t told why, nobody told us anything… I’m a big supporter of the police, very difficult job, but I haven’t been at all impressed with the lot we’ve had handling this business,’ said Ramsay resentfully. ‘Not since Truman left.’
‘Was the corpse wearing something masonic?’
Robin watched Ramsay’s weakening faith in the police do battle with his desire to assist the detectives he seemed to see as a last hope.
‘Yes,’ said Ramsay weakly, at last. ‘A masonic sash. I can’t remember which one. When they turned him over, I wasn’t… concentrating on the sash. The eyes and ears had been – Pamela screamed…’
Ramsay’s voice faded away.
‘All right, I think we’ve seen enough down here,’ said Strike. ‘Would you mind if I use your bathroom?’
‘No, of course not,’ said Ramsay, closing the vault door with what looked like relief. ‘Shall we?’ Ramsay said to Robin, who smiled, and the two of them climbed the stairs again. Once they’d disappeared, Strike, who had no need whatsoever of the bathroom, advanced on the keypad beside the safe to examine it more closely.
Upstairs, Ramsay beckoned Robin to one of the two chairs facing his desk, on which a computer sat.
‘Truman said it would be playing into the killers’ hands to talk up the sash and the hallmark,’ he said, sitting down opposite her. ‘It was obvious misdirection. He knew people can be silly about the masons…’
Unsurprisingly, being asked to describe the body seemed to have upset Ramsay.
‘I don’t know whether your partner told you,’ he added, as he fiddled with his cufflinks, ‘but it’s been a very difficult time for my wife and me – dreadful, actually – and then to lose all the Murdoch silver, when we weren’t insured… we’ve had a horrible couple of years, everything’s been… just hellish, actually. It’s been hellish.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Robin, remembering the jet ski and the dead son. Ramsay blinked rapidly. With no aim other than distracting him a little, Robin looked towards the nearest glass cabinet, which was full of small silver trinkets, and said,
‘You’ve got some lovely things.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Ramsay, brightening, ‘and very affordable!’
To Robin’s consternation, he jumped to his feet again, pulled his white gloves back on, and proceeded to unlock the cabinet.
‘Nice little pocket watch,’ he said, holding it out to her in his cotton-covered palm. ‘Sterling, not plate! Triangular, of course. Masonic symbols instead of numbers, you see? More of a man’s piece, of course,’ he said, when Robin showed no sign of enthusiasm. ‘For the ladies – you’ll like this—’
He picked up a small silver orb charm, and flicked a catch, so that it transformed into a jointed cross.
‘Nice, eh?’ he said. ‘And again, you’ve got your masonic symbols, hidden inside.’
‘Very pretty,’ said Robin.
‘You should drop a hint to—’
Ramsay’s eyes flickered to her bare ring finger.
‘—or just treat yourself. For Christmas.’
To Robin’s relief, Strike now reappeared, his face somewhat contorted. The stairs were steep and his stump still complaining, post-Cornwall.
‘I could do you a good deal,’ said Ramsay, smiling anxiously at Robin.
‘Maybe another time,’ she said, embarrassed.
Ramsay locked up the cabinet with obvious reluctance, returned to his seat behind the desk, and rummaged in the desk drawer for a glossy auction catalogue.
‘I’ve circled everything I bought,’ he told Strike, as the latter sat down next to Robin. ‘So you know what you’re looking for.’
‘Great,’ said Strike, taking the catalogue. The cover read: The A. H. Murdoch Collection and featured a sword and a large silver ship on wheels.
‘Would that be a nef?’ asked Strike.
‘Ah, you know your silver!’ said Ramsay eagerly. ‘Yes, she was commissioned by Murdoch out of silver from his own mine – second largest in Peru, discovered in 1827 – and modelled on the Carolina Merchant, the ship that took the first ever Freemason to America. We were all delighted his great-grandson wanted to hold the auction here in London, rather than in the US…’
Ramsay now launched unstoppably into an explanation of the significance of the Murdoch silver, speaking with the peculiar, tone deaf intensity of the monomaniac.
‘… Murdoch, of course, was Inspector General of the Louisiana jurisdiction…’ ‘… largest, most valuable collection of masonic silver in the world,’ ‘… gadrooned borders…’ ‘… superb nineteenth-century setting maul…’ ‘… bright cut engraving…’
‘We can keep this, can we?’ interrupted Strike, stemming the flow of words by raising his voice.
‘Oh – yes, yes, I’ve got another copy.’
‘Are you on the square yourself?’ asked Strike.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Ramsay. ‘You?’
‘’Fraid not.’
‘Ah. I thought, being ex-military – one of our best customers is a colonel in the Light Infantry. My wife’s father was a mason, too. She’s a Bullen by birth. Bullen & Co? Very old silver firm. They’re down in the London Silver Vaults. Been going a hundred and twenty-seven years.’
‘Wow,’ said Robin, to whom the job of being impressed by interviewees usually fell.
‘But when her father retired a couple of years ago, he handed the business over to m’sister-in-law and her husband. His choice, of course, up to him,’ said Kenneth sniffily. ‘We’d hoped… but, long story short, Pamela and Geoffrey and Rachel and I worked out a deal, and we took the masonic stock – Bullen & Co had a small side-line in masonic artefacts, nothing on our scale, of course – and we opened this place.’
‘What kind of business was here before you took over?’
‘A jewellers,’ said Ramsay, ‘so the place was already set up for us, really. Very convenient.’
‘You changed all the codes when you took the place over, though?’ said Strike.
‘Oh yes, of course,’ said Ramsay, before pointing at the catalogue in Strike’s hands and reverting to his favourite subject. ‘I got all the most important Murdoch pieces. Made an offer before the auction, and it was accepted. Put a few noses out of joint, as a matter of fact, hahaha. There were a lot of collectors who were very interested, waiting to bid.’