From the safety of Tyra’s flat, Nicholas dialled 141, to withhold the number he was ringing from, and then called Hiram Kaminski.
‘Sidney Elliott is dead,’ he said without preamble. ‘I think he was the man who tried to break into your gallery. He tried hard to stop me going public, but he didn’t manage it. The Bosch deception is out there now.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘He was spooked by the police. It’s funny: when he saw them he completely overreacted, ran off and got hit by a van before anyone could talk to him.’
‘He didn’t want to get caught—’
‘That’s what puzzles me,’ Nicholas replied. ‘To outsiders, it was just two men fighting. He could have explained it away, bluffed his way out of it. No, there was more to it than that. When he saw that copper, he lost it. Bolted.’
‘But why would he do that?’
Nicholas thought for a moment. ‘Maybe he couldn’t risk being caught. Maybe he had more to hide than just attacking me.’ He paused, thinking back over everything that had happened, piecing it together. ‘Sidney Elliott was a desperate man. He was banking on finding out about Bosch. He was acting as though everything depended on it and got more and more unreasonable. Every time I spoke to him he raised the stakes: he went after my sister, he threatened me. He was a mess. Frenzied, dangerous. Oh God …’
Hiram pressed him. ‘What is it?’
‘I think it was Sidney Elliott who murdered Thomas Littlejohn, Sabine and Claude. Then he went after Father Luke to frame me.’
‘Why would he do that?’ Hiram was taken aback. ‘He was an academic—’
‘—who was one of the first to know about the conspiracy. I went to him, remember? I only gave him one piece of the Bosch papers, but it was enough to whet his appetite. Elliott was a bitter man, his life a failure. I think he saw the conspiracy as his last chance. He wanted to expose it. He wanted the glory of the discovery – so he had to silence everyone else who knew about it.’
‘But he didn’t kill you.’
‘He needed me,’ Nicholas explained. ‘Elliott never knew the whole deception – I was the only person who could tell him that. He couldn’t kill me, he could only threaten me.’ He thought back, slotting the pieces into place. ‘Didn’t you tell me that Thomas Littlejohn dealt in paintings and antique books?’
Hiram nodded. ‘Yes, he did.’
‘So Elliott might have worked with him before on a manuscript.’
‘It’s possible. Sidney Elliott was an expert. We all used him,’ Hiram admitted. ‘But it doesn’t make sense. Why would a man like him suddenly become a killer?’
‘It wasn’t sudden,’ Nicholas explained, his voice rising. ‘Bit by bit, Elliott’s life had soured. I remember him almost begging me for “an adventure”. My rejection was another blow to his ego.’ He paused, thinking back. ‘He wanted one more shot at glory, and he failed. I think that was the turning point.’
‘And Thomas Littlejohn knew someone was after him,’ Hiram said hurriedly. ‘That’s why he wrote me the letter—’
‘Which Elliott didn’t know about. That’s why he didn’t kill you – he wasn’t sure how much you knew. So he scared you into silence instead.’ Nicholas thought of the dead man. ‘He wasn’t going for honour any longer. He’d killed, crossed the line. He was going for the money instead. Sidney Elliott was working for the person who would pay him the most for the secret—’
‘Conrad Voygel.’
Nicholas took in a breath. Then he asked, ‘Who bought the chain at the auction?’
‘The buyer was anonymous, but we all know it’s Voygel. The place was buzzing. And everyone’s looking for you. Your sister came to the auction trying to find you—’
‘Has the chain left the auction house?’
‘No. When I spoke to Philip Preston he said that it was being collected later tonight. There was some rumour about it being taken out of the country, but that could just be hearsay. One thing’s for sure: Preston’s got guards all round the place, security up to the hilt. He’s scared. Maybe he thinks someone will try to steal it before it gets to its new owner.’
Nicholas thought for a moment, then nodded. ‘Maybe he’s right.’