The de Vere Deception (David Thorne Mysteries Book 1) by Loy Ray Clemons

castle.
                Gweneth said, “Andrea was always around, so naturally she and Gilbert got married. What else was he going to do, call a constable and have her removed?” She snickered and Andrea joined her. Thorne had the impression he was listening to two young schoolgirls being silly.
                He noticed Gwen laughed a lot, a natural, tinkling laugh that seemed to be an integral part of her personality. One would not have expected such an attitude from one cut down in the prime of her young life, and possibly handicapped for the remainder of it.
                When a glass of Bada’s vintage champagne was poured for him, Thorne took a perfunctory sip and set the glass down. He didn’t like champagne or wine no matter how special it was. It reminded him too much of the times back in Chicago when his former wife had tried to get him to conform to her weekend lifestyle of cheese and wine tasting.
                But as the evening passed, his attention was riveted on Andrea and Gweneth. He hadn’t spent much time with women for a long while and their laughter, friendly repartee and reminisces—as silly as they were— made for a pleasant evening. He couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed himself, and the company, so much.
     
     

Chapter 19
     
     
    After dinner, Bada took Thorne down a broad hallway lined with antique chairs and dark paintings of still lifes and landscapes set in ornate gilded frames. At the end of the hallway they entered through a large pair of wood paneled doors into a large two-story room half the size of a basketball court. A spiral staircase led up to a narrow balcony and bookshelves filled with old, leather-bound books, and secured behind glass-fronted doors. The shelves on the main floor were open, and included a trove of leather-bound books devoted to Shakespeare and de Vere, Bacon, Marlowe, Spenser, Milton, Descartes, Spinoza, Locke and other major and minor philosophers. A small section was reserved for contemporary books in colorful dust jackets.
                Thorne had seen libraries of this size and opulence, but most had been in museums in major cities. His mind drifted, thinking how many people it would require to keep it clean and in order.
                In an opposite corner of the room Bada’s high-backed, tufted black leather executive chair was ensconced behind an antique carved walnut desk. Behind the desk was a credenza of contemporary design with three monitors, a computer keyboard, papers, journals, and books in orderly stacks.
                Bada went to a sideboard and poured a snifter of brandy. Thorne declined the brandy, and Bada motioned for Thorne to take one of the leather chairs fronting the desk. “You would have seen the castle and adjacent buildings when you drove in today. I’m sure you noticed the new fifteen hundred square meter building south of the castle. During the demolition and construction stages the building will be used for storage.”
                Bada took a sip of brandy and studied Thorne. “I think I need to let you know the real purpose of this particular building. I am so confident we will find the documents I have built it as a temporary, but secure research facility to store and study in minute detail every one of the documents. I have accumulated and vetted a list of almost one hundred Shakespearean scholars and British and European historians who I will invite to attend events and study the documents over the next three years. After we have accomplished the initial studies and cataloging we will move them into Freddie’s permanent research facility in the castle. If we find the documents soon, I will temporarily display them in the Great Hall of the castle before moving them into this storage building, and eventually into the castle. I have not revealed this information to anyone else—not even Freddie—and I know I can depend on you to keep it