The Bosch Deception by Alex Connor Page A

Quickly she pulled down her sleeve to cover it.
    â€˜Claude was killed—’
    â€˜What?’ He wanted to reach out to her but resisted. They had been friends, but only because of Claude. And at timesNicholas had noticed envy on Eloise’s part: a jealousy for a history that had not included her.
    â€˜He was murdered two days ago.’
    â€˜I didn’t know …’ He stared at her. ‘You said he was killed. Why?’
    â€˜You know why,’ Eloise said quietly, her skin bloodless in the cold church. A shiver ran through her and her lips parted for an instant, then closed again.
    â€˜I
don’t
know, Eloise–’
    â€˜Hieronymus Bosch … Don’t deny it, Nicholas. I don’t blame you for anything. I didn’t know anything about the chain until yesterday when I went through Claude’s papers. His
will
 …’ Her English accent was perfect, polished. ‘He was too young to make a will. You’re supposed to do that when you’re old. But he made one, in great detail. He took care with it, almost as though he knew that it would be needed.’ She stopped, stared at her hands, at her wedding band. ‘That Bosch painting originally belonged to Claude’s father, Raoul.’
    The news surprised him. ‘Raoul Devereux owned the painting?’
    â€˜Until it was stolen from his gallery. The following year he died, and the Bosch was never seen again. But apparently it re-emerged in England, and was bought by an elderly man. The same man who gave it to Gerrit der Keyser to sell for him …’
    The name went like a bolt into his spine, but Nicholas said nothing.
    â€˜â€¦ The person who bought it was Sabine Monette. Of course you know that. But although the painting was valuable there was more to it. A secret, hidden in the chain by which it was hung. Apparently every connector between the links had a piece of paper in it. A note. Twenty-eight in all, which made up a testimony. Did Sabine know that? Did she read it?’ Her eyes turned on Nicholas. ‘She was murdered. Like Claude. But then you know that too – you and Sabine were close. So now tell me, Nicholas, why have my husband and your friend – who both knew about the Bosch secret – been killed?’
    â€˜I didn’t know that Claude was privy to any of this. We never discussed it—’
    She was composed, but brusque. ‘Where’s the chain?’
    â€˜I don’t know—’
    â€˜Liar,’ she said softly. ‘You can’t protect me, I don’t want you to. You aren’t my husband or a member of my family. I’m not your responsibility, Nicholas – I am my own person. I mean to find out who killed my husband, and why. Claude said the notes told of a conspiracy, but he didn’t say what it was.’
    â€˜I’m sorry he told you any of it—’
    â€˜You have no right to judge my husband!’
    â€˜He was also my friend, and as such I can judge him,’ Nicholas replied, glancing up at the altar. ‘Have you still got the letter he wrote?’
    â€˜Of course.’
    â€˜Then destroy it. And forget what you read—’
    â€˜How very presumptuous of you,’ Eloise responded. ‘You can’t tell me what to do. I want to know more, not less. What did the papers say?’
    â€˜I don’t know.’
    A soft sound escaped her lips as Eloise rose to her feet and looked around her. ‘Strange that you should come back here. I thought you weren’t allowed to enter a church again.’
    â€˜Excommunication doesn’t mean I’m banned from the Church. It’s a penalty, dished out in the hope I’ll repent.’
    She raised her eyebrows. ‘So it’s reversible? Not much of a punishment.’
    â€˜It is to a priest. I can’t receive the Eucharist and I won’t get a Catholic burial. Unless I repent, of course.’ He