It didn’t sound like a compliment. “Can you tell me why he was so interested in the play?”

“I already did,” he said, still annoyed. “Prescott thought he was goddamned Prospero. The exiled Duke of Milan, living on an island with Miranda, his beautiful daughter, and a library of books that were all about magic. His damned cane was his magic wand. And like Prospero, he believed he had the power to control all things, to make people do his bidding. He believed in magic and believed he possessed magical abilities.”

I was pushing my luck, but I asked anyway. “What about the historical basis for the play, the wreck of the Sea Venture when it was on its way to Jamestown? That was very real.”

Clay gave me an impatient look. “Of course it was real, and of course that intrigued him. He went to Bermuda and Jamestown and donated a pile of money to the Jamestown archeological project to do research on the Sea Venture and what happened during the year those people spent in Bermuda. That’s why you’ll find Bermuda coral at the Jamestown Settlement today. Plus Jock was good friends with Henry and Emily Folger when they were in the process of getting their library built on Capitol Hill back in the 1920s. Jock donated money and helped with getting building permits, which were a nightmare since Henry had been sneaky in buying up lots two blocks behind the Capitol and directly behind the Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress. Prescott kept up the family relationship with the library—the Folger Library, I mean—plus he was on their board. As a result he had carte blanche to do as much original source research about the history of that play as he wanted.”

“So part of his interest relates to the Sea Venture and Jamestown,” I said.

“He was also a huge collector of anything to do with Shakespeare.” Another shrug. “He owns three copies of the First Folio. Paid a king’s ransom for them.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“They’re supposed to be given to the Folger Library now that he’s dead,” Clay said.

“That’s very generous.”

Clay stood up. A not-too-subtle cue that we were done.

I stood as well. “I should go.”

“I’ll see you out.”

“No need,” I said. “I know the way. Clay, if there’s anything my family can do…”

“There is.”

I waited.