The Murders of Richard III - Elizabeth Peters [63]
“That’s important,” Jacqueline interrupted. “The head was meant to represent Philip and no other. Look at the hair.”
She reached for the head and Liz said quickly, “Quite right. The—the person must have known Phil would take the role of Hastings, who was decapitated. It’s been settled for…at least two weeks, isn’t that right? We needed time to prepare our costumes and so on.”
“Each of you knew what part the others would be playing?” Jacqueline asked.
“Yes, of course. We had to agree so there would be no duplications.”
“Then let’s go back to the question of motive,” Jacqueline said. “Sir Richard…the letter. How much is it worth?”
“Its worth is incalculable. It is proof that Richard—”
“Never mind Richard the Third,” Jacqueline groaned. “Is the letter worth money? Cash? Filthy lucre?”
“Why, I’ve no idea. A few hundred pounds, perhaps, a few thousand…Not enough to justify such a complex plot, if that is what you are suggesting. Why do you believe that the letter and these tricks are connected?”
“I don’t know that they are. I’m grasping at straws. But none of your friends seem to have broken out before this, and the letter is the only new addition to the proceedings. Don’t you think it’s time I saw it, Sir Richard?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“But that’s why Jacqueline came,” Thomas exclaimed. “To look at the letter.”
“I know why she is here,” Weldon said. He smiled at Jacqueline. It was his old smile, gentle and apologetic. “Forgive me, Jacqueline, I did not intend to sound so brusque. I’m delighted to have had the opportunity of meeting you, and we have all enjoyed your company. But you are not an expert on medieval manuscripts, any more than I am a naive fool. When Thomas mentioned you, I took the liberty of investigating your antecedents. Don’t you see—I couldn’t take the risk of introducing a stranger into the household unless I was sure of her. You asked about the value of the letter. When I said it was incalculable, I meant it. It is worth an infinite amount of money—to me.”
“Ah,” said Strangways. “I wondered when someone was going to bring that up.”
Tipped back in the chair, he was totally relaxed, hands clasped on his chest and a faint mocking smile on his lips. After a moment he went on in a cool voice.
“The value of the letter on the open market is irrelevant. It is worthless to an ordinary thief because it is unique. How could he possibly sell it? But he could hold it for ransom.”
Liz’s mouth dropped open in a look of astonishment. Jacqueline’s face remained impassive.
Weldon nodded. “You are clever, Mr. Strangways.” He turned to Liz. Thomas couldn’t see his face, but the change in his voice, from calm appraisal to impassioned pleading, made Thomas wince. “I know most people would think me mad to care so much about a cause that has been dead for hundreds of years. But I do care. That letter must be published. You haven’t seen it. You don’t know. I tell you, that single document will clear Richard’s name of all the charges the Tudors invented. It will restore him to his rightful place as one of England’s greatest kings—a martyr, not a murderer. I would do anything—pay any amount—to make sure it is not suppressed.”
He paused. For a moment the room was silent except for the hiss of the dying flames and Weldon’s heavy breathing. Liz stared as if she were hypnotized. Her eyes were dilated.
“And that is why,” Weldon said, “I will not take the letter from my safe until I produce it for the public announcement. I would let the house burn down before I would open that safe. It is flame-proof and the letter would survive.”
He turned to face the others, who were grouped around the desk. His face was transformed.
“You must be a Sherlock Holmes fan,” Jacqueline said. Her matter-of-fact voice broke the spell.
Weldon smiled faintly. “Yes, Holmes pretended to set a house on fire to persuade a certain lady to open her safe. It may sound farfetched, but recent events have been