Murder in Abbot's Folly (31 page)

BOOK: Murder in Abbot's Folly
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‘Why didn't you say anything about the collection being fake at the trial?'
‘Given me more of a motive, wouldn't it?' he said practically, then added: ‘Besides, I didn't know Esther was going to sell it. I reckoned one day I might get a second chance.' He grinned.
‘There's one good thing emerged from this mess,' Georgia said thoughtfully as she drove Peter home. ‘At least Suspects Anonymous has been proved fallible.'
‘Conceded,' Peter said reluctantly. ‘Although—'
‘It was wrong,' she repeated. ‘It pointed to Tom Miller.'
Peter gave in. ‘If you say so. Georgia, I asked Jennifer if she'd mind if we visited Abbot's Folly on the way home. Could you bear it? There's one loose end . . .'
Her heart sank. She knew exactly what he was going to say. ‘The fingerprints.'
‘Yes. I'd like to see if they're still there.'
‘They can't be. Max Tanner killed Bob Luckhurst, and whatever he says justice was done.' Nevertheless, she knew how he felt and was also aware that she was arguing against his suggestion only because she didn't want to go near that place so soon.
Peter glanced at her. ‘Jennifer said we could use the tractor path behind the folly and get the car nearer to it. There's a gate through to Stourdens and the track is wide enough to get the wheelchair along once inside. Does that help?'
She looked at him gratefully. ‘Yes. Thanks. I'm not crazy about seeing the folly, but the tunnel is still the real nightmare.'
‘It won't take long, I promise.'
It felt strange to be here on their own in the early evening, and, with the setting sun, she felt that some of the peace that the Mad Abbot must have loved seemed to have returned. Ahead she could see the woods near which the huge hole left by the falling tunnel masonry must lie, but she could turn her back on that. She would concentrate on the fingerprints.
The door into Abbot's Folly was closed but unlocked, and the ramp was still in place. Georgia pushed open the door, prepared for she knew not what, longing for it not to be just as it was the last time she had come here. Peter followed closely behind her.
‘Nothing,' he said. ‘There's nothing here.'
He was right. It was an empty building.
Completely
empty. Empty of its vandalized contents, and empty of fingerprints.
In silence Georgia struggled to take in what this meant. She saw Peter look up at her, and she met his eye, knowing they were both thinking the same thing.
Peter cleared his throat. ‘Those fingerprints weren't left by Max Tanner or by Bob Luckhurst, were they?'
‘No,' she agreed.
A long silence, then she said diffidently, ‘You don't think that they were left by someone who felt betrayed and that justice had not been done?'
‘Impossible,' Peter said hurriedly.
‘Either because of the collection, or –' she steeled herself – ‘because of an unhappy love affair?'
‘Sheer fantasy.'
‘It's not.' Georgia put it into words. ‘The fingerprints could have been Jane Austen's.'
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Jane Austen paid many visits to Kent and in particular to Godmersham Park, between Canterbury and Ashford, which at the time of this novel's sub-plot was owned by her brother Edward. As a boy, he had been informally adopted by the Knight family, who owned Godmersham; he had married into the Bridges family of Goodnestone Park and come to own Godmersham himself, taking the name of Knight in 1812. Jane Austen and her sister Cassandra were indeed staying at Godmersham during most of September and October in 1802. They were living in Bath at the time, and their former home at Steventon in Hampshire was currently lived in by her brother James and his family. It was there that Jane and Cassandra travelled after leaving Kent, and during their stay at Steventon they paid a visit to friends at Manydown where Jane accepted and instantly regretted a proposal of marriage from Harris Bigg-Wither. So much is fact, but Stourdens and Captain Harker, and the story and characters of this novel, are all fictional. So too is Edgar House. Although Jane and Cassandra would have hired post-chaises to reach Kent, the inn in which they awaited the Godmersham carriage for the last stage of their journey was not the Edgar Arms. For background information I am indebted in particular to David Waldron Smithers'
Jane Austen in Kent
, to
Letters of Jane Austen
edited by Edward, Lord Brabourne, and of course to the novels of Jane Austen herself.
As always, my thanks are due to my agent, Dorothy Lumley, and to my publishing editor, Rachel Simpson Hutchens, together with Severn House's expert and friendly staff.

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