Chapter Twenty-Two

SEBASTIAN PULLED free of Mike’s grip and jerked his head up. “Don’t touch me! And that could have happened at any time. I’m always in and out of that hothouse, carrying flowers for the church. I do live there, remember?” His eyes blazed.

“Except you’re not denying that it’s Jeyes Fluid, are you?” Jonathon said thoughtfully, staring at Sebastian’s reddening face. “And that’s the problem with your theory. It couldn’t have happened at any time, like you said. There was only a short window of time when it could have occurred. We know that for a fact.”

“Did you bump into the shelf when you were carrying his body into the hothouse? Is that how it happened? Maybe you got some on your clothes too. Those can always be destroyed, right? Not so easy when it’s on the skin.” Mike was still standing in front of him.

Sebastian glared at him.

“And then there’s the test-drive,” Jonathon added.

Sebastian jerked his head to stare at him. “Huh?”

Jonathon nodded. “You didn’t know about that part, did you? It appears Bryan was an impatient soul. He had to know it was going to be a year at least before you could even think of coming forward to claim your inheritance—and he could get any money out of you—but I guess he couldn’t stop thinking about all that cash.”

“So he called up a garage and arranged to test-drive a top-of-the-range Jaguar. He didn’t give his own name, of course—clever boy. He gave Jonathon’s. We know it was Bryan, though, because he called from this number.”

“That was what gave us the idea that he was indulging in a little blackmail.” Jonathon cocked his head to one side. “He must have shown you some kind of evidence, right? What was it?”

“My guess is either a photo or video that he took on his phone.” When Sebastian twisted around to stare at him, Mike gave a slow nod. “Had to be. There was no phone on him when he was found. Did you take it?”

Sebastian pressed his lips together as if to stifle a reply.

“Oh.” Jonathon blinked. “Now I understand.” He met Mike’s inquiring gaze. “That purple plastic we found in the hothouse, the missing piece from Bryan’s USB drive.”

Sebastian froze. “What USB drive?”

“The one that the police have in their evidence locker. Bryan had it on him when he died. What if he copied the photo or video or whatever onto a USB? As a sort of backup?”

Judging from Sebastian’s aghast expression, he hadn’t thought about that possibility.

“Well, once they manage to open the files on it, the police will have all the evidence they need. Not to mention everything that I just gave them.” Mike locked gazes with Sebastian. “That’s right. Everything I found on my trip to London this morning. I went to the police station before I came here. Didn’t want to run the risk of losing any of it.”

“You bastard.” Sebastian growled. “He swore to me that video was only on his phone.”

“Where was he when he shot it?” Icy fingers crawled over Jonathon’s skin. They’d been right about the blackmail.

“Watching through the french windows. He saw me arranging the rug and filmed it. He’d been on his way to speak to Dominic, but he heard raised voices. He heard the whole argument.” Sebastian clenched his hands into tight fists. “I had no idea he was even there. Then Thursday, I was getting into Melinda’s car after visiting Ben Threadwell when I spotted him standing by the side of the road, leaning against his motorbike. He came to the point really quickly, even going so far as to show me the video footage. Then he said we needed to meet to discuss his terms. Terms! Sounds so much nicer than blackmail, doesn’t it?”

“Where did you meet him?”

“He suggested at the rear of the church on Friday evening. The wall goes all the way around the churchyard, and there’s a gate at the back. He wanted someplace where we couldn’t be seen, I suppose. He didn’t seem concerned by the prospect of being alone with me, but then, why should he have? He’d heard us arguing—he knew it was an accident. I guess he felt safe being with me because I was a curate, a man of the cloth.”

“Any man who is cornered is apt to make rash decisions, regardless of his occupation,” Mike said quietly. “Which you apparently did.”

“I didn’t think once about the sixth commandment. I just thought about him taking money from me for the rest of my life.” Sebastian raised his chin to look Mike in the eye. “I crouched down by the gate, and as soon as he came through it, I hit him with the biggest rock I could find. That was all it took. Then I picked him up over my shoulder and carried him to the hothouse. I knew Melinda wouldn’t be around, not at that time. She’s a creature of habit. And your description of banging into the shelf was very accurate. I left the tin on the floor, figuring she’d blame the cat—he was always in there.”

Jonathon stared at him. “Of course. You put the body in there deliberately. I remember our conversation about you being a science geek.” He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and did his best not to react. “And it was you who took the photo from the album, wasn’t it?”

Sebastian nodded. “Not that I did it to prevent being identified—I was just a little kid, after all—but because it showed my mother. I wanted it for sentimental reasons.”

“Maybe Dominic kept it for sentimental reasons too,” Jonathon suggested, his heart pounding.

“We’ll take things from here,” a loud voice declared.

Sebastian lurched to his feet and turned to face the french windows, where Gorland and two uniformed officers stood. Graham was one of them. The officers strode forward, handcuffs dangling from Graham’s hand. Sebastian tried to run toward the door, but Mike blocked his path.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

The officers grabbed Sebastian’s arms, and Graham pulled his hands behind his back to cuff them. He grinned at Mike. “Nice one, Mike. We heard everything.”

Jonathon frowned. “What? Heard what?”

Mike smiled. “That call from Sue was actually Graham, checking where I was. I didn’t disconnect the call. I left my phone on the desk, hoping it would pick up what was said. Why do you think I mentioned opening the french windows? I was telling them how to get in without alerting Sebastian.”

Jonathon shook his head. “You sneaky….”

He listened as the second officer read Sebastian his rights. It all seemed so unreal. Sebastian stood there, his eyes cold, and Jonathon got the feeling he wasn’t hearing a word of it. He followed the officers as they escorted Sebastian out of the study, through the hall, and out the front door, where four cars were parked—Melinda’s Fiesta, Mike’s 4x4, and two police cars. Gorland stood with Mike and Jonathon while Graham placed his hand lightly on top of Sebastian’s head, helping him to climb into the back seat of one of the cars. The tires crunched over the gravel as the car pulled away from the house, just as a motorbike roared up in the opposite direction. It came to a stop in front of them, and the rider switched off the engine. The helmet visor was flipped up, and a young man regarded them inquiringly.

“Hey. Is one of you Jonathon de Mountford?”

Jonathon blinked. “Er, yes, that’s me.”

The young man took off his helmet and rubbed his scruffy hair. “Hi. My name’s Andy Wintersgill. I got a call from a police officer about a friend of mine, Bryan Mayhew.”

“Weren’t you in Bali or Singapore or someplace similar?” Mike asked.

Andy nodded. “When he said Bryan was dead, I caught the first plane back to the UK. I only got back at four this morning. That was when I found this.” He reached inside his leather jacket and removed a creased, sealed envelope. It was addressed to Andy, and bore the words, “To be delivered to Jonathon de Mountford, de Mountford Hall, Merrychurch, if anything happens to me.” Andy held it out to Jonathon. “I figured it was important, so I rode over right away.” His face fell. “Still can’t believe he’s dead. Only last week we were drinking and laughing, the night before I went away. I’d never seen him in such a good mood.”

Jonathon tore open the envelope, with both Mike and Gorland watching him. Into his palm fell a purple USB drive. Jonathon caught his breath. “There’s a note in here too.” He eased it out and unfolded the single sheet of paper. He read through the two paragraphs, and sighed. “You were right, Mike. Bryan not only took a photo of Sebastian arranging the rug to make it look like an accident—he recorded the conversation too. It’s all on the USB.”

“Wow.” Andy’s eyes widened. “Does this help prove who killed Bryan?”

Gorland gazed at him coolly. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Mr. Wintersgill. If I could ask you to ride to Merrychurch police station to give a brief statement?”

Andy nodded. “I’ll go now, before I head home to get some sleep. I’m still jetlagged.” He nodded in Jonathon and Mike’s direction, replaced his helmet, climbed back on his bike, and drove down the driveway, sending bits of gravel flying in all directions.

Jonathon shook his head sadly. “I’m not surprised Bryan was in a good mood that night. He’d just seen Sebastian faking Dominic’s accident. He was probably already thinking about how he could profit from it.”

Mike frowned. “So what was on the USB that was found with the body?”

“Nothing,” Gorland said simply. “It was empty. Maybe it was a new one, to replace the one he’d left with Mr. Wintersgill.” He held out his hand. “I’ll take those, Mr. de Mountford. They’re evidence.”

Jonathon nodded and put both the sheet and the USB back into the envelope. He handed it over. “So that’s it? Case closed?”

Gorland nodded. “You’ll both be witnesses, I expect. Not that Mike will mind that—he’s an old hand at giving evidence in a trial.” He extended a hand to Mike. “Well done. Good to see you haven’t lost all your policing skills,” he said gruffly.

“So you’ll be releasing Trevor and Sarah Deeping?” Mike said suddenly.

“We released Trevor half an hour ago. Sarah will be released as soon as those two get back to the police station.” He gave a thin smile. “And then I can go back to London, once I’ve reported to my superiors that my work here is done.” He nodded to Jonathon, then tipped a two-fingered salute in Mike’s direction. “Take care of yourself, Mike. And if I might be bold enough to give you a piece of advice? Stick to running your pub, and leave policing to the professionals. You were lucky this time. Next time might not be the same.” He got into the car, switched on the engine, and drove away from the hall.

Jonathon stared after him. “His work is done? I like that! We did all the work for him. All he did was show up to make the arrest! ‘Leave policing to the professionals’ indeed,” he mimicked. “He’s got a bloody nerve. I’ve got a good mind to call—”

Whatever else he’d intended saying was lost when Mike grabbed him and pulled him into his arms. Two warm lips met his, and Jonathon gave up all thought of talking. When he came up for air, Mike stared into his eyes.

“I don’t know about you, Mr. de Mountford, but I’m going back to the pub, locking the door, and going upstairs for a nap. I’ve had a busy morning, and I want to recharge my batteries before we open this evening.”

“Am I invited?” Jonathon asked shyly.

Mike chuckled. “That depends. Are you taking a nap too?”

Jonathon grinned. “Eventually.”