The vault, illuminated by a single bare lightbulb hanging from the low ceiling, was high enough for an average-sized man, if not Strike, to stand upright in, and deep enough to accommodate a man of the same height lying down. The walls were of brick, and lined with currently bare shelves. The vault contained nothing except five crates of varying sizes, all stamped with the name Gibsons, which Strike knew to be a minor auction house. He took out his notebook.
‘Those,’ said Ramsay, pointing, ‘are the crates the Murdoch silver came in… all stolen,’ he said, staring around at the shelves, ‘and I’d never even seen it.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes… it was supposed to arrive on Friday at lunchtime. I came here to receive it,’ said Ramsay, as though the silver had been a visiting potentate, ‘but Gibsons had lots of deliveries that day, so it was delayed, and I had to go back to work. Pamela called later to say it had arrived…’
‘Pamela is…?’
‘Pamela Bullen-Driscoll. My sister-in-law – my wife’s sister. She was helping us out at the time, with Rachel being so ill. Gone back to her own business now.’
‘You had houseguests over the weekend, didn’t you?’ asked Strike.
‘That’s right, and I couldn’t leave Rachel alone with them, so I didn’t come in over the weekend.’
‘But you were here on Monday morning, when the theft was discovered?’
‘Oh, yes, because I wanted to see John Auclair myself.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘Very important silver collector,’ said Ramsay. ‘Very wealthy… he’d asked me to put the Murdoch silver aside for him to view, before we offered it to anyone else. That’s why Pamela never took it out of the vault, just unpacked it and put it on the shelves…
‘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!’