Findo Gask - Deadly Enchantment, Part 14: Novel by Trevor Hopkins

She turned to Glen, who took her hand in both of his own and rubbed it in a sympathetic kind of way. Now, in general I'm a suspicious old curmudgeon - in a professional kind of way, of course - but it seemed to me that her reaction was nothing other than both genuine and heartfelt. Her boyfriend seemed equally nonplussed.

"So you're investigating the theft, are you?" Glen piped up.

"Yeah, that's it," I replied, "Started as of yesterday."

"Grandma must be distraught," Mayfield sniffed, "She loved that necklace. It was the first thing her husband-to-be bought for her. She's always treasured it. She was so proud to show it to me on my last visit."

"Did you ask to see it, when you visited?" I pressed.

"Grandma said she would find it, on one of my previous visits, oh, maybe five years ago," she said, frowning slightly at the question, "Then she seemed to have forgotten about it when I turned up the following time. She is getting a little forgetful in her old age, you know."

"But you did mention it, recently?"

Mayfield sighed.

"I only brought it up in conversation all those years ago as something to talk about," she said sadly, "Grandma and I don't have a great deal in common, and she does tend to go one about events which were ancient history even before I was born."

"So what happened?" I pressed.

"So, I mentioned it again, just in passing. It must have triggered some memory. Her face lit up. She struggled to her feet and shuffled over to the sideboard in the drawing room. In the top drawer - not even locked - was a jewellery case."

Mayfield stared into the distance as she recounted the story. I hardly dare breathe for fear to disturbing her train of thought and Glen was watching her intently, too.

"I got the impression that she had put it away somewhere safe," Mayfield went on, "And had forgotten exactly where she had stashed it. But she managed to track it down. Or perhaps Tibbermore had found it for her. So she insisted on dragging it out of the case and made me put it on."

"This necklace, what's it like?" Glen interjected.

"It's beautiful," Mayfield replied, turning to face him with dreamy eyes, "The loveliest jewels and an exquisite setting."

Her attention returned to me. As I watched, she visibly relapsed to a more realistic and hard-headed attitude. And one which I suspected more closely represented her everyday viewpoint.

"But it wasn't something you could wear every day, or even every year," she went on, "It's far too dressy and extravagant for anything other than the most formal of social occasions. I doubt even Grandma ever wore it in public more than a few dozen times."

"So you wore Lady Westwood's necklace just a few months ago?"

"Oh, yes. I paraded up and down the drawing room while Grandma sat in her chair and watched me. She went on and on about how she wore the jewels for parties and receptions, all of which must have been two hundred years ago." She paused, staring over my shoulder obviously deep in thought.

"Then she seemed to get bored with it," Mayfield went on, "Her attention wandered. Suddenly she just didn't seem to care."

"What did you do?"

"I slipped the necklace off and put it back in the case."

"And what did you do with the case?" I asked, speaking even more softly to preserve the confidential mood.

"I put it back in the drawer of the sideboard where Grandma had taken it from," she replied promptly, "I didn't want to leave it lying around. I told her what I had done, but I wasn't sure she was listening."

"How long ago was this?"

"About three months, maybe more," she answered, then she frowned, suddenly glaring at me from the couch, "But why are you asking all these questions?"

Part 13

Part 15