Free The Claresby Collection: Twelve Mysteries by Daphne Coleridge

Sebastian. How galling.”

    “Yes, but aren’t you missing the obvious,” returned Laura. “What on earth was he thinking about? He is meant to be painting Claresby Hall.”

    “What does it matter?” replied Samantha dismissively. “The painting is good.”

    “I suppose it doesn’t matter, but I am just wondering what was in Sebastian’s mind. And where is he? The painting doesn’t look quite finished and he has left his little stall of...meat.”

    “Perhaps he went to the beer tent; we’ll soon find him.”

    But they didn’t. Exhaustive search of the fair, grounds, beer tent and kitchens did not reveal Sebastian and no one had seen him, nor had he spoken to anyone.

    Laura sighed. “I’d better go and tell Rupert. Samantha, one more favour; could you just look after Sebastian’s stall. He is selling those replicas of Plate of Meat for the benefit of Claresby church. And his work is, after all, quite valuable.”

    “What me? – Sell that?” Samantha was incredulous.

    Laura, however, did not seem to register this reaction. “Yes, if you would be kind enough.” And with that Laura set off in the direction of the house with her mind full of concern. She was not so consumed by this concern, however, that she didn’t take just one look over her shoulder to enjoy the ironic spectacle of Samantha Pearson having to tout just those goods which she despised most on behalf of her adversary, Sebastian.

    Laura was not sorry to be returning to the house. Not only did she want to appraise Rupert of Sebastian’s disappearance, but she also felt in need of a freshen up. As she made her way through the Great Hall, she encountered Keith Lowe, the local doctor. Keith was a very good looking and pleasant bachelor in his forties, one of the few locals whom Laura actually welcomed to the occasional dinner party which she felt obliged to arrange.

    “Oh, hallo Laura, is everything going well out there? When I’m finished I hope to take a look around. I’ve arranged for the body to be taken away. There will have to be a post-mortem of course, but I imagine with Floyd’s lifestyle we can assume heart attack – that’s off the record, by the way!”

    “Thank you. We will have to tell his wife, Jinny – she is down there looking after his stall.”

    “Not easy; she is much younger isn’t she? Rupert said she wasn’t staying here last night, which perhaps explains why nobody found his body for so long.”

    “Yes; we just assumed a hangover and left him undisturbed,” Laura lied fluently.

    “That’s pretty much what Rupert said. The press will make a story out of it, I imagine.”

    Laura winced. “I suppose so. There is a photographer coming to take pictures of Sebastian and his painting later – that’s if we can find Sebastian.”

    “Well, if you will mix with artists: unreliable lot.” Keith winked and made his way out in a brisk, businesslike manner.

    Laura carried on up the stairs and met her husband on his way between the green bedroom and their own room He followed Laura in and flopped down on the bed. Laura went to quickly slosh a bit of water on her face and then came and sat beside him.

    “Keith seemed satisfied,” she said. “He thinks heart attack.”

    “Hopefully he is right. Anyway, I spoke to Mike Herbert. As luck would have it he was staying with his parents who are only about ten miles away. He became very excited when I told him about the ring and mentioned a possible link with Nesperennub and got straight in his car – it’s just his field of expertise. He’s on his way over here now. Any objections if we offer to donate it to the British Museum if it is genuine? I just have this feeling that things might be better if the ring and the owner were reunited so to speak.”

    Laura looked mildly surprised by this indication of continued superstition on Rupert’s part, but agreed readily enough. “If you like,” she said. “Will you wait in here for him?”

    “I’ve