The de Vere Deception (David Thorne Mysteries Book 1) (8 page)

            Whoever the intruder was, he definitely did not want Thorne to go to Stratford. It appeared the attacks and attempts on his life were by two people charged with seeing he didn’t. He was becoming annoyed by the attention they were paying him. Annoyed enough to where he resolved he was not going to be deterred from a very lucrative fee.

Chapter 14

The assault and attempts on his life had shaken Thorne. He canceled his lease and moved out of the house the following day. After paying the balance on his lease, he rented a motel room in West Phoenix. He called the Salvation Army and asked them to pick up the furniture and other household goods at the Sunnyslope house, and paid a year’s advance on his Scottsdale postal box. For the remaining five days, he kept a low profile and avoided his previous haunts. He moved his flight to London up two days and notified the May Fair Hotel in London of his early arrival.

Victor Roberts picked up the phone from the night table and dialed. “I didn’t get him at his house, he was waiting for me. We have a real smart cookie on our hands here. He’s moved out and I have no idea where he’s gone.”

            The voice on the other end cursed. “We don’t want to get him anywhere in public. It looks like we’ll have to wait until he gets to England. What about Kelly, how is he working out?”

            “Kelly’s doing his job. He couldn’t discourage Thorne enough to miss the meeting in Paradise Valley. I’ve missed him twice, but don’t worry, we’ll get him in Stratford. “

            “I’m disappointed with you. I’ll
expect
you to do the job right when you return to Stratford, understand? Why don’t you and Kelly catch a flight back to London and we’ll see what we can do.”

Thorne and Freddie met for lunch at the Bob’s Hogan Restaurant the day before Thorne left for London. He continued to find Freddie an interesting, intelligent young man, and the smile on Freddie’s pleasant young face appeared to be genuine. He peppered Thorne with questions about America and Thorne’s experiences as they drove around Scottsdale, and out into the desert. Although they were developing a good relationship, Thorne had been circumspect about his former life. As much as he liked Freddie, he did not want to get into details about his personal life.

            Freddie was often spontaneous. “I  want the new bookstore in the castle to be a success. I’ve always dreamed of having a first-class Shakespeare and de Vere research center in the castle. But, I don’t have the financial background Gil, Chester and Lionel have, so—it’s just a day-dream—I guess this all sounds silly.”

            “Not at all,” said Thorne, softened by Freddie’s almost child-like exuberance. “Everyone should have a dream.”

            He suddenly realized this did not apply to him. He no longer had a dream. He had left it behind in Chicago, twelve years ago. Left behind a failed marriage, a good architectural practice, and most of his assets.

            Even though he felt he could trust the exuberant Freddie, he was hesitant to give him the full story of the events in Chicago. From what a friend in Chicago had told him earlier, the one remaining spurious lawsuit that forced him out of architecture, had been dismissed. The courts had decided the suit against him was totally without merit, but had taken three years to decide. By the time the case was dismissed, Thorne was broke and out of architecture.

            Freddie told of how he had attended grammar school and had not gone on to a university level institution as Bada, Raskin, and Kirk-Halstrom had. Instead, he joined the British Navy at the age of nineteen and spent his four-year hitch as an administrative clerk at a post in Gibraltar.

            “My duties in Gibraltar were quite boring, but, I suppose that is where I developed a love for books. Not much else for me to do but read. That’s where I first discovered the Shakespeare and de Vere controversy.

            “When I left, I gave away close to five-hundred books. I wish I had them now, many would be quite valuable—possibly rare. They would be great for my bookstore in Stratford. After my discharge, I traveled extensively throughout Europe, writing in my journal, staying in youth hostels, and having a grand time. When I got back to Stratford, I renewed my friendship with Helena—my girlfriend before I joined the navy— got married, and opened the bookstore. I enjoy it, but I wish there was a way to make a lot more money.”

            Freddie always came back to the subject of making big money. Thorne assumed it was because he felt his status was inferior to the overall wealth of the rest of the group.

            They parted and shook hands warmly. Freddie said, “I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed our short get-togethers. I’ll meet you at the airport when you arrive in London. Later on, we can travel up to Stratford together.”

PART 2

Chapter 15

LONDON

Thursday, November 25

9:00 AM

Thorne boarded the plane at the Sky Harbor Airport and settled in with his reading material. He took the transcript of the letter furnished him by Bada and began to read.

To my deare son Bascomb

In the yeare of our Lorde 1594 I wish you goodspeede on travel to the Newe World.  Our woorke and stryving in tyme should yield goode benefitte to us for our Patent of Monopoly for the newe tobacco and corne to England. You are commended for your labours and are a wyse young man naming sons Cecil for Lord Burghley and Raleigh for the Queene’s friende. Burghley is a wyse man and doth gyve us the Patent. He hathe received great support from me. I now gyve you other counsel to remember. In previous yeares your tutor Warren Cagney hathe sat at meate at Moldar Manor with the man Edward de Vere. A man of talent clever and accomplished and fitte and well traveled. Cagney saith he was a goode and trusted freend of de Vere and tutor in his tender yeeres. Cagney when visited upon by the man who spoke in private of his family tree and records. He did shew these to Cagney and he marveled. He did also shew his writing of playes and poetry and giveth them to Cagney. They bespoke of strange things of highe importance of Court and suche. They bespoke also of a Venetian merchant, a high-borne and sad Denmarke prince, a violent Moor and others. The man de Vere asketh Cagney for the safekeeping of suche and saith a gentleman cannot offer suche and would suffer damage at Court. He taketh another name. Upon arrest and debtors prison for Cagney he doth leaveth all his goodes and de Vere papers behind in the manor and de Vere papers may be used for oure benefitte when needes be to  seeketh the Queene’s favour. I have builded her a castle and a Keepe and these treasures are kept safe where the poesies doth welcome and should I pass you will fynd such upon your safe return from the Newe World.

Thorne re-read the transcript of the letter. Moldar was writing to his son, Bascomb, about their business venture in America. Apparently, they had bribed William Cecil, the First, Baron Burghley, father-in-law to Edward de Vere’s, for a Patent of Monopoly. This gave them the exclusive right to import tobacco and corn from the New World.

            The letter also told of de Vere’s visits to Moldar Manor where he met with Warren Cagney, tutor for Moldar’s son, Bascomb. Cagney had also been a tutor of de Vere and was a confidant. De Vere evidently left his family records and work on plays and poetry for safekeeping with Cagney. Cagney and Moldar seemed to think it wasn’t proper for a gentleman to write plays and poetry, so they assumed de Vere had written under a pseudonym.

            The Venetian merchant could be construed to be
The Merchant of Venice;
the sad prince of Denmarke as
Hamlet;
and the violent Moor as
Othello
. Cagney had been arrested and sent to debtor’s prison. He left the de Vere papers at the manor house where Moldar found them. Moldar kept them to threaten de Vere with exposure when it might be helpful to Molder and Bascomb. As Moldar continued to think it wasn’t proper for a highborn to be writing plays, he wasn’t above blackmailing de Vere to intercede with the Queen on Moldar’s behalf,

            “Where the poesies welcome” reference, obviously marked hiding places of the “treasure” in Kilshire Castle. To Thorne, poesies described a bouquet of flowers or a nosegay and appeared to be representative of flowers—possibly a painting or plaque.

            His curiosity was aroused that the one-page letter hadn’t been signed. Perhaps it was of such a personal nature; Richard Moldar didn’t consider it important.

            Still, it seemed unusual that Moldar didn’t end the letter with affectionate closure.

Freddie was waiting for Thorne when his plane landed at Heathrow. “Good trip I hope,” he said as he loaded Thorne’s luggage into the car.

            “Long, but I slept and had a chance to read the files at length. I took medication for jet lag before I left. We’ll see if it works.”

            Freddie flagged a bellman when they arrived at the May Fair Hotel. “Take your time and relax. We can discuss what you read when you feel like it. Check in. I’ll see your luggage gets to your room.” Thorne checked in at the front desk and glanced around the newly designed lobby as he waited for the elevator.

            The May Fair was opened in 1927 by King Edward V, and had recently undergone a seventy million pound remodeling, turning it into an elegant, contemporary-styled five star jewel. Sparkling Baccarat chandeliers, Fendi sofas and chairs, paintings from St. Petersburg, and a white marble floor said it all—the May Fair was indeed
the
new contemporary grand hotel in London.

            When he opened the door to his suite, he found a bellman placing his suitcases on the luggage rack in the corner of the spacious white marble and black granite-tiled room. The cheerful Freddie was sprawled in a comfortable chair. “You don’t mind if I wait around while you unpack, do you David?”

            “No, of course not. By the way, I think I’ll go over to Harrods first thing and see if I get clothes Kirk-Halstrom might approve of.”

            They both laughed.

A light snow began to fall as Thorne left the May Fair and walked down Stratton. He turned onto Piccadilly, and soon found himself on the walkway bordering Hyde Park. A light dusting of November snow covered the ground and the bare limbs of the leafless trees. As he traveled to the west, he tried to imagine what the park would be like in the spring and summer. He imagined there would still be nannies lined up on the benches watching their charges in their trams, and Bobbies strolling about, pleasantly tipping their hats to the ladies. It would be nice if England still retained vestiges of the Victorian era’s elegant ambience.

            Harrods is the most famous department store in London—and possibly the world. The store is located in the Knightsbridge area in Brampton Road, a few streets south of Hyde park.

            The saying goes, “If you can’t find it at Harrods it doesn’t exist.”

            Thorne had reluctantly accepted a five-thousand pound expense account at Harrods to buy suitable English-style clothes and shoes as well as other incidentals. Raskin had suggested he buy as much high quality clothing and incidentals as he needed at Harrods. Initially, he thought the amount was exorbitant. At the time, five-thousand British pounds was equal to around ten-thousand US dollars.

            He was surprised to find five-thousand pounds didn’t go far at Harrods. Austin Reed suits cost seven-hundred pounds; Burberry all-weather coats topped out at over a thousand pounds; Church’s and Alan MacAfee shoes cost four-hundred pounds; and quality luggage was five-hundred pounds, plus. Shirts, shoes, ties, and sweaters ranged from one-hundred to two-hundred pounds each. Other incidentals quickly used up the five-thousand pounds.

            He could now pass for a properly attired Englishman—that’s, until anyone heard him speak. He was told the alterations for his suits and coats would take two to three days, but decided to wear the double-breasted Burberry outer coat, a wool muffler and a tweed cloth hat.  He was glad to have the added warmth as the weather was turning foul.

            Victor Roberts was fingering ties at a display counter as Thorne descended the escalator. He broke off, and followed Thorne through the revolving doors, stopping at a newsstand to buy a copy of the
Daily Telegraph
. Mike Kelly observed Thorne’s reflection in a store window, and fell in step with Roberts as he followed Thorne from a hundred feet back. Both men dodged the oncoming pedestrian traffic in an attempt to gain on Thorne, but were stymied by a large group of Japanese tourists.

            Recognizing and avoiding tails had become second nature to Thorne. When he was out in public he used a simple system that was standard for private investigators. He would stop immediately in front of a shop window, and using the reflection, quickly survey the crowd behind him. If he saw a reaction from anyone, he would repeat the procedure later. If he saw the same person and same reaction, he was alerted and quickly ditched the tail. Fortunately, he recognized Mike Kelly and assumed the small hatchet-faced man with Kelly as the man Eddie Davis in Georgie’s had mentioned. He turned into a fish and chips shop quickly and threaded his way through the diners to a rear door. Once in the alley he found an unlocked rear door to another shop and quickly stepped inside to a darkened storage room. Knowing they would look for him in the alley or on adjacent streets, he felt around for a box, sat down, and waited.

Roberts, upset at being given the slip, cursed and said, “There’s still a chance we can get him near the May Fair before he goes up to Stratford. If we miss him there we’ll get him in Stratford before he can do too much damage. In any case, our orders are to see he or Hollister doesn’t get a chance to find anything in the castle.”