Croft Manor, Epsom, Surrey, England
'Lady Croft,' said Winston genially as Lara stepped over the threshold of her home 'I am very glad to see you home again. Has your trip been fruitful?'
'In some respects Winston, in some respects,' said Lara, smiling happily 'We picked up a few others in our wake; you know Marika Kostnikova, daughter of the Polish Ambassador.'
'Always a pleasure to see you, Miss Kostnikova.'
'Likewise Winston.'
'And here,' Lara gestured to the others 'Are Henry Wrasse, formally of the Royal Marines, and Antonio Escarelli, an Italian businessman who, unfortunately, has ended up in rather sticky circumstances.'
Winston raised an eyebrow, but bowed to both of them.
'I've left copies of today's newspapers in the solar madam. Shall I serve tea there?'
'Yes please, but I don't think we'll want to look at newspapers. We've got some serious planning to do.'
'Well, it's a terrible business. On almost every front page, that awful death in Edinburgh. Poor man.'
'Edinburgh?' Lara turned to him 'Who was he?'
'Torquil…somebody, I forget the surname. Murder, apparently, but the police aren't ruling out suicide. Just awful. Something big in property I believe he was,' he shook his head 'I'll go and make the tea, then I'll attend to your cases.'
Winston withdrew, leaving the others to head up to the solar.
'It can't be the same one, can it?' asked Marika.
'There's nothing like a coincidence to heighten a conspiracy, I always say,' said Lara darkly 'However, if it turns out to be the same man, we'll have to be on our guard. We know already that these people aren't the best examples of morality, but if they've taken to eliminating the remaining members of the Artemis Foundation…' she let the rest hang in the air, her expression telling more.
They walked down another corridor to the solar. This was a more private area than the living room and drawing rooms downstairs – it was where Lara often read of an evening, and so it had long, stained glass windows that faced west to catch the setting sun. The inlaid wooden floor was polished to a high sheen.
'Does Winston do all this himself?' marvelled Wrasse 'You must work that poor man to death Lara!'
Lara smiled 'He's very good, isn't he? He doesn't do the garden, I get someone else to do that. But most other things, yes, although he has been known to employ other cleaners from the town and some friends from surrounding country houses. I don't mind, but they have to be kept away from some of the more private areas – like the collection rooms and the library. I've got records and examples of things that most people haven't heard of, and the rest don't think they exist!'
They settled onto the comfortable sofas, and picked up some of the newspapers that were spread out on the coffee table. As Winston had said, nearly all the front pages had a photograph of the townhouse in Royal Crescent, covered in police tape and surrounded by forensic scientists in white suits.
Escarelli read the front page of the Times quickly 'That's him! Torquil McGregor – that's the man! And I remember his house in Edinburgh – I was at a party there once,' he put his head in his hands 'He wasn't a bad man at all, not in the least.'
'I know I do,' muttered Lara 'What worries me more is the circumstances of his death. Few signs of forced entry, his being shot cleanly in the head…professional killers. I think we can rule out suicide and as for burglary – nothing has been reported missing.'
'But why?' Marika asked.
'I don't know. But I hope we won't see a pattern emerging,' she leant over to Escarelli.
'Do you need a moment?'
'No, thank you. I'm fine,' said Escarelli, sitting up again 'It was just a shock, that's all. I'm quite well.'
'If you're sure,' Lara said, and then reorganised the newspapers on the table, shuffling them back into a tidy pile. Once she had done so, she looked around with an expectant expression.
'So, does anyone have ideas about where we should go next?'
Wrasse looked uncomfortable as if he was being interrogated by a teacher 'Well, something to do with Sir Francis Drake, perhaps?'
'Correct Mr Wrasse,' Lara smiled 'Ah Winston, come in.'
Everyone else looked round in surprise, as Winston eased the door open. They hadn't noticed anything, and they looked at Lara in admiration. Winston came over to the table, and handed out china cups of tea, pouring milk and sugar in as required. This done, he took out a duster and began to dust some of the crystal vases on a side table.
Lara sipped her tea 'Well, I have some ideas. One takes precedence over the others, naturally. I propose that we take a trip to Tavistock.'
Escarelli's forehead wrinkled, but Marika looked thoughtful 'Sir Francis Drake's birthplace?'
'And his later home yes. Or more specifically, Buckland Abbey, a few miles to the south of the town. I hope we'll find something there.'
'But it's a museum isn't it?' broke in Wrasse 'I mean, surely everything to do with Drake has already been investigated in the house? I mean, he's not exactly unknown is he?'
'Maybe not,' said Lara thoughtfully 'he was a secretive fellow, our friend Francis. I'm sure something as important as the staff of Aaron would have interested him greatly; enough to hide it from queen and country. I think it's certainly worth a look.'
Marika sighed 'Well, at least it doesn't mean a lengthy plane journey. I'm just getting over my jet-lag.'
Lara smiled 'Yes, it'll be quite restful,' her expression darkened 'as long as we don't have any more murders on the horizon.'
