sorts.”
“Could one of them have killed him?”
Lucifer shook his head. “I can’t imagine it.”
“Other collectors? Jealous ones, perhaps?”
Lucifer waved a negative. “Collectors might metaphorically kill for certain items, but few actually do. For most collectors, half the joy is displaying your acquisitions to other collectors. Horatio was highly respected and well liked among the fraternity; his collections were well known. Any item of his unexpectedly surfacing in someone else’s collection would draw immediate attention. As a motive for murder, a known collector wanting to gain a particular piece is unlikely. We can, however, check for missing items, although it will take time. Horatio kept meticulous records.”
Sir Jasper was frowning. “We knew Welham was a collector and dealer, but I, for one, had no notion he was so highly regarded.” He glanced at Phyllida.
She shook her head. “We all knew he had visitors from outside—beyond the local area—but no one here knows much about antiques. We had no idea Horatio held such a prominent place in that sphere.”
“I think,” Lucifer said, “that that was part of the attraction of Colyton. Horatio liked being ‘one of the locals.’ ”
Sir Jasper nodded. “Now you mention it, he became ‘one of us’ very quickly. Hard to believe it’s only been three years. He bought the Manor and rebuilt and refurbished it. He put in that garden—his pride, it was. Used to potter in it for hours—his success turned some of the local ladies green. He always did all he could—went to church every Sunday, helped out in many ways.” Sir Jasper paused, then quietly concluded, “He’ll be missed.”
They sat silently for a moment, then Lucifer asked, “If he always went to church, why was he at home yesterday? I hadn’t sent word I was coming.”
“He was ill,” Phyllida said. “A bad cold. He insisted the others go as usual, and that Covey was not to disappoint his aunt. Mrs. Hemmings said she left him reading upstairs.”
“So”—Sir Jasper shifted in his chair—“let’s recount what happened as we know it. You arrived on a social visit—”
“That’s not quite true—or not all of the truth. I left Horatio’s letter in Somerset, so you’ll have to bear with my paraphrasing, but he specifically asked me to visit because he wanted my opinion on some item he’d discovered. He was obviously excited by it—the impression I received was that it was a wholly unexpected find. The inference was that he personally felt sure the item was authentic, but wanted a second opinion.”
“Any idea what this item was?”
“No. The only thing I can be sure of is that it wasn’t silver or jewelry.”
“But those are your specialties.”
“Yes, but Horatio wrote that if the item was authentic, it might even tempt me to expand my collection beyond silver and jewelry.”
“So it was a desirable piece?”
“My interpretation was that it was desirable and valuable. The fact that Horatio asked me to appraise something not in my area of expertise, when he could easily have invited the opinion of any of the established collectors of whatever type of collectible it is, suggests that the item was one of those finds that no sane collector tells anyone he has until he’s established ownership and perhaps arranged greater security. Horatio might have been old, but he was still very sharp.”
“But he told you—why not others?”
Lucifer met Phyllida’s dark gaze. “Because for various reasons, among them our long friendship, Horatio knew he’d be safe telling me. Indeed, I might be the only one he mentioned the item to at all.”
“Would Covey know of it?”
“Unless his duties have changed, I doubt it. Covey helped Horatio with arrangements and correspondence but was never involved with the actual dealing or assessing.”
Sir Jasper mulled over their words. “So you came here to meet with Horatio and view this new item of his.” He looked