Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Fern had barely slept. The image of the ransacked shop was firmly on her mind. She stared out of the bedroom window, mug of tea in hand, watching as grey clouds gathered over Puffin Island. Downstairs, she could hear Daniel on the phone, his voice clipped and purposeful.
‘That was the police again. They’re sending someone out this morning,’ he said as he stood next to Fern, who was pulling on a hoodie over her pyjamas. ‘Local detective’s name is Smith. Should be here within the hour.’
‘Did you tell them what was taken?’
‘I said the only thing that we can see was taken is the antique music box. I didn’t mention the manuscript.’
Fern nodded. ‘We’ll have to. Eventually.’
The front doorbell jingled at exactly 9.47 a.m. and a stocky man in a windbreaker stepped in, flashing a badge.
‘Detective Smith. You reported a break-in?’
Daniel stepped forward. ‘Yeah, uh, it happened yesterday afternoon. We went for a walk and reported it straightaway when we returned and found the shop turned over, but they couldn’t send anyone over until this morning because of the tide.’
‘You found it like this?’ Smith asked, taking a slow look around. ‘And you’re sure nothing else is gone?’
‘Yes,’ Fern said. ‘We’ve just done an inventory and the music box is the only thing missing. It was sitting right there, on the desk.’
Smith pulled out a small notepad. ‘Can you describe it? Was it valuable?’
Daniel described the music box. ‘I’m not sure how valuable it is.’
‘Are you the antique dealer?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you don’t know how much it was worth?’ he quizzed.
‘It only came into our possession yesterday. I hadn’t had time to value it yet.’
‘It sounds like someone knew its value. I’ll need a proper statement from both of you. Might take a little while.’
He sat down at the desk, and pulled out an iPad from his bag. ‘They make us use these things these days,’ he said. He put it aside. ‘I still prefer pad and pen. Let me take some details.’
After all personal details were taken, he asked, ‘This music box … any particular reason it’s important?’
Fern looked at Daniel, then took a breath. ‘Yes. There was something inside it. Something that changes everything.’
Smith raised his eyebrows. ‘Go on.’
Fern leaned her elbows on the counter. ‘We found a handwritten composition. Old, delicate, signed “Matilda Hartley”, and dated when she was still at university.’
‘And?’
‘It’s the exact melody of Nathaniel Loring’s “Echoes of the Past”,’ she said. ‘Down to the phrasing, key changes … everything.’
Smith looked perplexed. ‘I’m not quite sure what you’re trying to tell me here.’
‘Do you know who Nathaniel Loring is?’ asked Fern.
‘Who doesn’t know who he is?’
‘I think Nathaniel stole my great-aunt Matilda’s composition.’
‘How would he do that? Do you have proof?’
‘They went to college together and were in a relationship.’
Daniel stepped in. ‘We think he used Matilda’s melody as the foundation of the piece that made his career.’
Fern added. ‘We didn’t know they were in a relationship until recently, but something happened on their wedding day, and they called it off.’
Smith leaned back. ‘Do you think that was what the break-in was about? Someone looking for the manuscript?’
‘We do,’ Fern said. ‘That song is his most famous work. It built his reputation. His fortune. If he didn’t write it … he wouldn’t want that information getting out.’
‘What does Matilda Hartley say about this?’
‘She recently passed away.’
That got Smith’s attention. ‘I see. You’re talking copyright infringement. Fraud. Possibly even theft of intellectual property if you can prove intent.’
‘We can’t, not yet,’ Fern admitted. ‘But this manuscript is dated and in her handwriting. We found it hidden in a false back of the safe inside the music box. That has to mean something. We’ve read that Nathaniel Loring’s health is deteriorating and his agent, Alistair Montgomery, will inherit everything.
I … we … think he’s behind the break-in.
’ Fern knew how far-fetched it all sounded.
The detective scratched his chin. ‘It sounds like something off a TV show to me.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘It’s my job to find evidence, not to assume, but a famous musician and agent breaking into a curiosity shop would be quite a story.’
‘I know how it sounds,’ admitted Fern.
‘Let me be honest with you, cases like this are difficult. He’s a public figure. Ill health, high profile … and dead artists, no matter how crooked, are a hard sell for scandal.’
‘He’s not dead yet,’ Fern said sharply. ‘He’s just hiding behind people like Alistair Montgomery.’
Smith narrowed his eyes.
‘I’ve also received an above-market offer for the shop from an anonymous buyer who wants the building and everything in it. We think it’s Montgomery, and that he plans to get rid of evidence before Loring dies so he will inherit his fortune.’
Smith paused in his note-taking. ‘Have you still got this manuscript? Can I see it?’
After the detective took a photo of the manuscript, he scribbled a few more notes then closed his notebook. ‘I’ll open a case as you’ve given me enough to work with. But I won’t lie, without hard evidence, and with how delicate Nathaniel Loring’s condition is, this could hit a wall.’
Fern nodded. ‘We understand.’
The shop was quiet again after the detective left. Daniel put the kettle on while Fern sat quietly at the desk, thinking hard.
‘That went … okay,’ he said, offering her a biscuit. ‘Didn’t think I’d be accusing a national treasure of theft over my morning tea, but here we are.’
She managed a smile. ‘He’s not a national treasure if the music wasn’t his.’
Daniel sat beside her. ‘We’ll find a way to prove it, but we also have to consider that it may have been a gift.’
‘I don’t think it was, because if so, then why steal the music box? Someone is looking for something. It’s not a coincidence.’
‘Thank God we still have the manuscript then. Seriously, Fern – you coming here, this place, all this, I want to help you finish what she started.’
Fern rested her head against his shoulder. ‘It’s about finding the truth. If Matilda did write that composition, which I think she did, it would explain why Nathaniel wrote that he “owed” her in the inscription.’
‘Maybe she knew he was using her music, and it was a goodwill gesture?’
‘I doubt it. There’s something deeper happening … and whoever sent us the wedding dress with the cryptic note wants us to find out what it is.’
They sat like that for a moment.
‘I’m determined to uncover the truth,’ said Fern.
Daniel looked at her. ‘We are determined to uncover the truth.’
‘Teamwork,’ she said, grabbing her laptop and flinging it open. ‘I need to look into something.’ Her fingers were already tapping. ‘If Nathaniel gave interviews, maybe he mentioned when and where he composed “Echoes of the Past”. Maybe he slipped up and there’s a quote or something.’
‘Look at you with your journalist’s instinct. I bet that’s the reason Matilda gave the shop to you; you’re like a dog with a bone.’ Daniel peered over her shoulder as she pulled up a string of archived interviews.
‘Here,’ she exclaimed, scrolling through a newspaper scan and then reading aloud, ‘The melody came to me in a dream when I was on holiday a year after I left college. One of those flashes of inspiration.’
Daniel snorted. ‘Right.’
Fern narrowed her eyes. ‘Matilda wrote it when she was at college.’ She was still tapping away. ‘He and Matilda were born in the same year, which would mean they would be in the same year at college. I think he took it and erased her from the song’s story.’
Fern opened up another tab, and began reading another article, this time from a televised interview years later. Nathaniel sat at a grand piano, the host gushing, ‘Tell us about the inspiration behind “Echoes of the Past”, your first big hit.’
‘Oh, it’s a funny story. It came to me in a dream and when I woke up I couldn’t get the melody out of my head.
‘We have until Friday to figure this out. Let’s see what happens when we visit Alistair on Thursday.’
Daniel sat opposite Fern as she printed out the Loring quotes. ‘What if we talked to someone who knew her back then?’ he said. ‘A professor, or an old classmate? Someone who might’ve heard her play the song before Nathaniel made it big.’
Fern’s eyes lit up. ‘That’s brilliant. Maybe the music department has records. Or … or recordings of the recitals!’ she said, printing out the last of the interviews and taking out a plastic wallet from the desk. She stuck a label on the front and marked it Operation Truth.
‘I can’t wait to come face to face with Alistair. He can’t deny he asked about a music box.’
‘You think he’ll tell us why?’
‘No. But I want to see his face when he realises we’re on to them.’
Daniel nodded. ‘I think we’re close to something.’
Fern looked around the shop. ‘Can you imagine if we exposed the biggest music scandal ever? What a way to start the new job.’ She realised what she had said the second the words had left her lips, and immediately tried to backtrack. ‘I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just…’
‘I know. Ultimately, it’s your choice, but I don’t have to like the thought of you going back anytime soon.’
‘I know.’ Deep down, neither did she. She knew this promotion would help financially, but the thought of not seeing Daniel every day was firmly on her mind.