Deadly Treasures

by Vivian Conroy

  At the time she had found out via a friend that more people in the higher circles had been blackmailed, apparently by the same person. Whoever they were, they were well informed, as they had known Jake had been in prison and had used this knowledge to put pressure on Alkmene because of her acquaintance with Jake.

  Jake had never wanted to tell her exactly what had happened or why he had been locked up, but it had happened before he had come to London. How the blackmailers had gotten wind of something that had occurred abroad was a mystery to Alkmene.

  But it proved the blackmailers had ways of finding out things about people’s pasts, painful things they or people around them would be eager to keep a secret.

  A titled man having an affair with a woman far below his station would be just such a thing.

  Was it possible Duncan had received a blackmail letter before he had left for the excavation?

  The envelope had no address on it, just his name. So it had not come out here by mail.

  Alkmene frowned. She did not suppose the London blackmailer travelled all the way out here to hand-deliver his letters. Did that imply that Duncan had received it in London and taken it here? But why take it at all?

  And why not keep it on his person? Why leave it here on the mantelpiece for anyone looking closer to find?

  The back door banged, and Alkmene quickly put the envelope back in place. Sweat formed between her shoulder blades. It was terrible to go through someone’s things really. Even if you could claim you were trying to help him escape the noose.

  Heart racing, she pretended to look out of the window. As she heard footfalls behind her, she said, ‘I can’t see the excavation site from here. Still it is such a clear day.’

  ‘Are you his fiancée?’

  Alkmene swung upright and around at the clear female voice. The girl who had run off sobbing to the inn stood there looking at her, with a grave expression on her young face.

  Again Alkmene concluded that Sarah was older than her trim figure suggested. There were little lines round her mouth and eyes, betraying worry.

  ‘Are you Duncan’s fiancée?’ Sarah repeated. ‘I saw you coming from the police station right after Duncan had been arrested. And Miles had already said there was some lady coming in from London. The room was booked in advance.’

  She grinned. ‘We had to put Kramer in the attic. He was pretty stuck up about it. Wanted his usual room. But we couldn’t give it to him. All booked up for the night, you know.’

  ‘His usual room?’ Alkmene queried. Usual did seem to imply more than one occasion. But Kramer had apparently never been to Blackcastle before except that one time when he had dropped Duncan off. In spring. Months ago.

  Would Sarah remember that sole visit and refer back to it as ‘his usual room’?

  Sarah didn’t seem interested in Kramer though. She continued with a probing stare, ‘When a room was booked for a Lady Alkmene Callender, Miles said you’d be Duncan’s fiancée because Duncan would have to marry well for his family and for money. Miles claims to know everything about Duncan’s life, just because he worked on the site for a while.’

  So Miles was the brother who had been accused of theft and sent off. Peartree had called him Mark, but it was just like him to get a name wrong. Especially the name of a lad who didn’t matter to him anyway.

  Alkmene wanted to know why of all the workers on site Miles had been accused of theft, but starting that topic with his sister, out of the blue, wouldn’t build any bridges.

  She had to befriend Sarah first, gain her confidence. She smiled at the suspicious girl. ‘I’m not Duncan’s fiancée at all. Just a friend. Duncan and I grew up together, and I want to help out now that he has been arrested.’

  The girl leaned back on her heels. ‘I told him, tried to warn him about the Black Castle gold. It has always been unlucky. People died for it. But Duncan wouldn’t listen to me. He said it was just dumb village talk. But look where it has gotten him now. Accused of murder. If he is not careful, he will be the next to die.’

  Alkmene tilted her head. ‘Did you know Reiner Goodman, the dead man? Did he stay at The Catch?’

  The girl nodded. ‘I also saw him on the excavation site. He was looking at things really critically. Like he was going to report on Duncan.’

  ‘Report’ was an interesting choice of words. Alkmene asked, ‘Was Goodman sent by Trevor Price, Duncan’s patron?’

  Sarah shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. Duncan told me that he was his own boss and he could do whatever he wanted. That he was paying for everything from his own pocket.’

  ‘What?’ Alkmene closed in on her. ‘That can’t be right. Trevor Price, Duncan’s patron, is recovering from ill health. He sent Duncan out here to look after things in his stead. That means he should be paying for this excavation, not Duncan. Why would Duncan pay for anything from his own pocket?’

  ‘I don’t know. But that is what Duncan told me and other people in the village. That every penny he puts into this is his own. My father says it is a shame to waste so much money on something worthless like digging into the ground. If he had any money, he’d buy more milk cows or better meat to serve at the inn. But Duncan just wants to find the Black Castle gold all by himself and be famous.’

  Sarah’s expression fell. ‘Then he can get away from here. From me.’

  Alkmene studied her. ‘Duncan has made you no promises, I guess?’ I hope. ‘It would have been really stupid of him to promise things while he knows he can’t keep those promises.’

  The girl leaned back on her heels again. ‘What is it to you? You were just a friend, right? Not his bride-to-be or anything.’ She huffed. ‘They all say they are just friends with Duncan. But I know better.’

  ‘They all? There have been other women visiting him?’

  The girl nodded. ‘They all act like they are entitled to him.’ Her vicious look left no doubt how she felt about that.

  Alkmene tried a disarming smile. ‘I’m really just a friend. As I grew up with Duncan, I know how he usually lands himself into trouble, head first. I just want to help him get out of the cell again. I need to find someone else who might have committed the murder.’

  The girl’s eyes widened as if the idea of a different suspect than Duncan shocked her. She stepped back. ‘I…’ She wrenched her narrow hands. ‘I think I had better go now.’

  She turned and dashed off.

  Alkmene blinked. She had believed Sarah would jump at the idea of finding another suspect, would be ready to help her uncover information.

  Why would Sarah, who had allegedly been in love with Duncan, not want Duncan to be cleared of the murder charge?

  ‘Hey.’ She went after the girl, calling, ‘Wait! How did you get here? Can you take me back to the village?’ She didn’t want to bother Peartree again and as there was no phone here, she could not call for a car.

  Sarah was outside already, scrambling onto an old cart pulled by a weathered but sturdy-looking horse. Alkmene shouted, ‘Take me into town! I will pay for it.’

  The girl looked at her as if to determine if the promise of payment was for real. Then she snapped, ‘Get into the back.’

  Alkmene clambered in, and with a click of her tongue the girl put the horse into motion and they hobbled off across the road.

  Chapter Six

  Alkmene had never travelled on an open cart before and she had not been prepared for the intense shaking and shuddering that went through her. At first she tried to sit on her bottom with her arms around her knees, but as the juddering seemed to loosen every joint in her body, she crawled to the front, leaning her arms on the higher part beside the girl leading the horse and said, ‘I say, you have a way with horses.’

  Sarah laughed. ‘I’ve done this often before. Besides the inn and the stables, we have a herd of thirty milk cows. My father delivers their milk to people, and I often go with him. I also do it on my own from time to time. I help with the rooms or the horses, o
r whatever needs doing.’

  She cast Alkmene a critical look. ‘I guess you never worked?’

  Jake Dubois’s cynical voice resounded in Alkmene’s head, suggesting she could not even launder. Of course she could not, but that was just because it was not her forte. She did know things. She was an investigator now. She had already discovered a few pertinent things she could share with Jake as soon as he got here.

  She sat up straighter. ‘I do work. In my own way.’

  ‘You’re a typist maybe?’ The girl brightened. ‘I would give everything to be able to get to London and live in an apartment of my own and type all day long, letters for important people, and get my hair curled and buy nail polish.’

  She let go of the reins to show Alkmene one of her hands. ‘I do try to keep my nails neat and filed, but I’d love to make them shine. Makes you look like a lady.’ She glanced at Alkmene’s hands. ‘Where are your reds?’

  ‘I do French manicure,’ Alkmene said quickly. ‘That means you leave the pink parts pink and the white ones white and maybe just top it with a little shine.’

  The girl frowned. ‘Why would you do that if it makes no difference at all?’

  ‘Well, I co-operate with a reporter sometimes, doing his fact-checking for him, and he likes me to look decent but not too flashy you know. Especially when you go undercover, you have to blend in, not stand out.’

  The girl nodded. ‘Are you undercover here to help Duncan? He got himself into a nice scrape. Stupid donkey talking about his treasure to everyone who wanted to hear.’

  Alkmene had to admit ‘donkey’ did fit Duncan to a tittle and suppressed a smile.

  Sarah continued glumly, ‘I bet this man who got killed was trying to steal the gold and somebody knocked him over the head to prevent it.’

  Alkmene took a deep breath. ‘So a lot of people knew about this treasure?’

  The girl shrugged. ‘It’s part of our local lore. Mr Page is quite fanatical about it.’

  ‘I heard that name before. Who is he?’

  ‘He used to work in the mayor’s office. But the mayor moved away some years ago. We don’t have our own mayor any more. It’s like three villages put together now. The new mayor lives in the other village.’ She waved a hand in the eastern direction. ‘But Mr Page still works in the old town hall every day. He has a big book collection there and people come to see him about it. Constable Aldridge says it’s all nonsense. They never saw eye to eye.’

  ‘Constable Aldridge? Is that the policeman in charge? With the sort of sad basset-hound look about him?’

  Sarah laughed. ‘You’re right about that. But don’t let him hear it. He can’t stand people laughing at him. Thinks he decides it all around here.’

  Alkmene nodded. ‘I know. He kept his colleague, Eddy, from telling me about the gold.’

  Sarah laughed again. ‘Eddy should never have become a copper. He’s just not cut out for it. Can’t find a stolen anything. Now Constable Aldridge is something else. Really tough, you know.’

  A car appeared in the road ahead of them, pulling into the shoulder to make room for them. The door on the driver’s side opened, and a man climbed out. He stood leaning against the car, waving his hand at them.

  Alkmene shielded her eyes against the sun. Was the man signalling to them?

  Then she straightened up. It couldn’t be. So soon?

  ‘Alkmene!’

  His strong voice carried her name to her easily. She sighed. Yes, it could be so soon. The lure of treasure even worked on someone grounded like Jake Dubois.

  ‘That’s someone I know,’ she said to Sarah. ‘Could you drop me off here? Put whatever this ride costs on my bill at the inn.’

  As the cart halted, Jake came round to her to reach out a hand and help her down. Alkmene felt conscious of her dishevelled appearance but what she had found out so far made up for that. She bet Jake didn’t have as much yet.

  She waved goodbye to Sarah, then turned to Jake. ‘You made good time.’

  ‘Well, I reckoned you would be anxious to have this friend of yours acquitted as soon as possible. After all you used to go see him all the time at his family home: Alberley.’

  ‘When I was ten,’ Alkmene said defensively. ‘And I didn’t ask you to look into my past relationship with the Woolsbury family.’

  Jake leaned back on his heels. His stay in Plymouth had touched up his tan. Or maybe it was his light suit that provided the contrast. He had obviously dashed away from his talk over cocktails with Buck Seaton to meet her. She should appreciate it.

  Jake nodded to the west. ‘Looks like some bad weather blowing in. We’d better compare notes as we drive into the village. I saw it has only one place to stay.’

  Alkmene nodded. ‘The Catch. The girl whom you just saw is the daughter of the innkeeper. She told me Duncan is funding the excavation from his own pocket.’

  Jake grimaced. ‘So you know that already.’

  Alkmene suppressed a sense of elation. She pretended to study the gathering clouds. ‘They’re still far off, but the light does have this peculiar tinge. Could mean thunder later on.’

  Jake nodded. ‘I bet that when the weather changes here, it can turn from friendly to ugly in a few minutes. You don’t want to see a storm at the coast. Come on.’

  Alkmene got into the car. Her heart was beating fast with the thrill of the hunt. Now they could combine their knowledge and uncover a suspect more likely than Duncan.

  Leaning back in the seat she said, ‘You first. I want to see what you managed to come up with between my call and your race to get here so quickly.’

  Jake focused on the shoulder first to turn the car around, then as they were in the road again, heading in the right direction, he said, ‘People first, or gold first?’

  ‘Gold first, definitely.’ Alkmene studied his profile. ‘You think there could be something spectacular here or you would not have come rushing out.’

  ‘How unkind.’ Jake tutted. ‘Like I would not have come out for you. To protect you against your own impulses now that you’ve stumbled on a dead body. After all, I’ve already had to save your life twice.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Alkmene protested.

  Jake laughed. ‘You just can’t be trusted out on your own.’

  She wanted to retort, but Jake lifted a hand off the wheel and said, ‘Let’s say you are just too clever and persistent for your own good, all right?’

  Alkmene pursed her lips at this half compliment.

  Jake said, ‘The gold then. Duncan Woolsbury used to be on good terms with his patron Trevor Price, probably because Duncan is both rich and well connected and men like Price need both money and influence to be able to do what they do. Then Duncan hit on the legend of the Black Castle gold.’

  ‘Did he find it in a book, hear it from somebody?’

  ‘Not quite sure about that.’

  Alkmene stared ahead. Had Peartree told Duncan to drag him into the wager?

  Jake was continuing, ‘The castle dates back to the Middle Ages, but the gold is a more recent addition. It seems a cruel lord lived there who had forced an honest man into giving him his daughter as a bride. The girl travelled to the castle with a small fortune in gold coins and jewellery, her father’s gift to the groom. Upon her arrival she claimed the fortune had been stolen on the road. The groom did not believe her and tortured one of her attendants to get the truth out of him. Before he died, the boy confessed that the lady had hidden the gold in a well at a farmhouse. The groom sent his men there to retrieve it, but they came back saying it was no longer there. The groom was furious and killed those men as well, and his intended bride, claiming they had all betrayed him. Then he spent the rest of his life searching for the gold, but legend has it he never found it.’

  Alkmene tilted her head. ‘How can that be? If it was hidden in the well…’

  Jake shrugged. ‘I think it is just one of those grisly tales in the style of the brothers
Grimm. A lot of bloodshed, but not a lot of logic. Nevertheless, people have again and again looked for the Black Castle gold.’

  Alkmene shivered. ‘I can understand why Sarah said it is unlucky. Why would you even want it with such a history attached?’

  Jake shrugged again. ‘Gold is gold, you know. Greed still drives people like it did back then. Whether the story is true or not, some men are willing to kill for a fortune. The question is, is your friend Duncan such a man?’

  Alkmene took it for a rhetorical question and gestured. ‘Go on with what you discovered.’

  Jake gestured ahead. ‘So with Duncan running after this alleged treasure, his patron Trevor Price felt cheated. Instead of having a successor who engages in serious archaeology, he finds himself having to explain for Duncan’s departure on what he considers a wild goose chase. So he declares all around that unless Duncan Woolsbury returns with the treasures of Troy, so to speak, he won’t ever engage him again. Now as Duncan doesn’t have a serious education in the field, he can’t expect to just be taken on by the next benign elderly expert. He will have to prove himself here, or this is the end of it.’

  ‘So Duncan’s career is on the line as well,’ Alkmene said pensively. ‘The pressure to turn up something big here in Blackcastle has to be huge.’

  Jake nodded. ‘Enough to strike out in desperation and kill maybe, if he felt that the victim stood in the way of his success. I, for one, am not sure why Duncan Woolsbury actually wants to be an archaeologist, but I did hear he has been anxious to get away from home.’

  ‘Yes, the family driver Kramer also emphasized that to me. Did you discover if Reiner Goodman was German?’

  ‘Not yet, but I’ll make more calls soon.’

  Alkmene nodded. ‘Good. For now we can safely say that both Duncan’s career and his fortune were riding on the success of this excavation.’