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“When’s the baby due?” asked Christina, as William turned off the motorway and followed the signs to Limpton, which brought back so many memories.
“Not long now,” replied Beth.
“You must both be so excited.”
“William’s got one or two other things on his mind at the moment.”
“What could possibly be more important than your firstborn?”
“Arson and art theft,” said William. “But I hope to have solved both cases before Alexander or Vivien make their presence known.”
“Boudicca or Leonardo,” said Beth. “As you can see, we haven’t yet settled on the name. But let’s concentrate on arson for the time being.”
“Proving someone has committed arson is never easy,” said William. “Unless there are obvious, telltale signs, like traces of accelerant on a floorboard, or a petrol-soaked rag that’s been dropped through a letterbox—the sort of crass mistake only amateurs think they could get away with.”
“And the professionals?” asked Christina.
“A pile of tissues placed just below a wooden roof next to an immersion heater, and then one match is all it takes. There aren’t many people serving prison sentences for arson, as it’s one of the easiest crimes to get away with. So, we’ll have to concentrate on proving that Miles stole the pictures before the house went up in flames.”
“Of course he did.”
“However much you believe that’s the case, Christina, and I’m not saying I don’t agree with you, you’ll still need concrete evidence for a case to stand up in a court of law. Without it, vexatious claims from an angry ex-wife tend to be laughed out of court.”
“William,” said Beth sharply, “that’s very harsh after all Christina’s been through.”
“I’m on her side,” said William. “But unless I find what I’m looking for, we’ll all be wasting our time,” he added, as he turned into the lane that led up to Limpton Hall. This time he drove slowly.
“So where do we start?” asked Christina.
“We go over the site with the proverbial fine-tooth comb.”
“What are we looking for?” asked Beth.
“Anything that’s survived the fire.”
William drove past the abandoned gatehouse and on up the long drive, not quite sure what to expect. He only just avoided crashing into a tree when he first caught sight of what was left of the beautiful Lutyens manor house that had once stood so proudly on the hill dominating the surrounding countryside. All that remained was half an acre of ash and rubble.
William parked the car on the drive, opened the boot and took out three sets of overalls, Wellington boots, and rubber gloves. Once they had put them on, the three of them walked across to where the front door had once stood.
“Right,” said William. “We have to be as methodical as possible. We’ll begin on this side and work our way across the site in a straight line, then move three paces to the right and repeat the same exercise on the way back. If you come across anything that has survived the blaze, let me know.”
“Does this count?” asked Beth, bending down and extracting the front door knocker from the ashes.
“A promising start,” said William, after he’d taken a closer look. He dropped their first find into a large black bin liner.
A few minutes later, it was Beth again. This time a bath tap, followed by Christina who added a marble egg. “I bought it when we were on holiday in Athens,” she said, as William took a closer look before dropping the egg into his bag.
Some time passed before William asked, “What’s this?”
The three of them studied the latest find for some time before Christina said, “It’s the winding mechanism from our old grandfather clock. A wedding present,” she added sadly.
“Excellent,” said William, dropping it into his bag.
“Why?” asked Beth.
“Later—we still don’t have enough. But do you need to rest?” he asked, looking anxiously at his wife, who looked tired. “My son won’t thank you if he’s born among the ashes.”
“While my daughter,” said Beth, “for all you know might well be enjoying the search far too much to stop now.”
