Deadly Treasures

by Vivian Conroy

  Jake began to lead her away.

  Alkmene whispered, ‘We left too soon.’

  Jake whispered back, ‘He is not going to give us any more. His daughter was at the inn the night the bracelet vanished. Not only could she have gotten close to the chair that the jacket was on, but she also needed money to improve things for her. Maybe she even believed she was entitled to it as it was found on the land her father has a claim to. If Old Paul suspects that his daughter took the bracelet, he will be so afraid she will get in trouble for it.’

  ‘He just said the local constabulary will never touch one of their own.’

  ‘No, but now that there is murder in the mix, there might be police from elsewhere coming in. Duncan will also have realized he is getting nowhere this way and he might ask for involvement from other forces or even Scotland Yard. Even if this Reiner Goodman wasn’t a big name in the field, his death will cause commotion in London circles. The Yard can’t let this go unattended.’

  Alkmene nodded thoughtfully. ‘I suppose you’re right. So Abby’s father fears she is somehow involved and she might get in trouble with the law? What do you think? Did she take the bracelet?’

  ‘It’s possible. But we don’t know who else was at the inn that night, had access to the jacket and knew the bracelet was there.’

  Jake halted a moment to toss the shell he was still toying with into the sea. Then he continued, ‘Duncan told you he had kept the find a secret, except for that boy Miles having seen him find it. Maybe he talked, and other people got to know about it.’

  The woman he was having an affair with? Alkmene wondered, but she said nothing. Despite Old Paul’s scorn of his daughter’s choices, her departure earlier, her love for a man who had not loved her back but betrayed her, the old man did seem to care for his daughter. He came out at night to escort her home so she wouldn’t be hurt by somebody coming after her.

  Such a caring father would not want to see his Abby in trouble, accused of theft and maybe even worse.

  How did the disappearance of that gold bracelet fit into the murder of Goodman?

  Alkmene tried to keep up with Jake, who seemed intent on fleeing the dark clouds gathering behind their backs. The wind had become stronger and was pushing against their shoulders, propelling them onward. She spread her arms for a moment, elated by the suggestion she could be lifted off the ground and fly away.

  Jake grinned at her. ‘I bet that in the old days when you spent summers with Duncan on his parents’ estate you ran around like that. Did you also climb trees?’

  ‘I had to. When boys are involved who dare you…’ She gave an eloquent shrug.

  ‘So Duncan was the type to challenge another, especially if he believed the other would be afraid to do it?’

  Alkmene tilted her head. ‘What are you driving at?’

  ‘Why was the murdered man on site in the middle of the night? What was he looking for? Whom did he want to meet? Or had someone told him he was too scared to go there, as it was dark and the wind howled around the ruins?’

  Alkmene pursed her lips. ‘You make it sound like a kids’ game. They were hardly children.’

  ‘Not old friends either.’ Jake stared ahead with a frown. ‘How, if Duncan didn’t know Goodman well, could he get caught up in a fight with him so soon after he arrived here?’

  ‘Duncan took Goodman’s place as his patron’s right-hand man. There was never any love lost between the two of them.’

  ‘But the fight was not about archaeology. It was a personal matter, as Duncan put it. How can you have a personal quarrel with someone you only know in a business way?’

  Alkmene shrugged. ‘There could have been some money involved, an unfortunate loan, Goodman lying that he was here on the patron’s behest and Duncan confronting him that he suspected him of personal motives, of wanting to get ahead of him again.’

  ‘In the matter of the treasure and the dig. That is business again. What personal thing was there between them? Like really personal?’

  Alkmene rubbed her forehead. ‘No idea. Peartree was in love with Delphine. I know she is a great beauty, but I don’t suppose Goodman was in love with her as well. It cannot be personal in that sense.’ She sighed. ‘I wish Duncan was not so pig-headed and would just have confided fully in me.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  They reached the car ahead of the rain. Just as they were driving back to the village, the first drops splattered on the roof and ran down the windscreen. Alkmene put a finger against the cold glass, following the pattern they formed. She wished she could see a pattern in all the information gathered in the murder case. But there didn’t seem to be any. They had no idea why Goodman had been on the dig that night or who had had opportunity to go there as well and kill him.

  Probably a lot of people, and the weapon – the hammer – had been at hand.

  They should focus on motive to find their man or woman. But as Goodman had been a relative stranger to the territory, only having arrived recently to see how the dig progressed, it seemed unlikely anyone local would have felt so strongly about him they would have killed him.

  That left Duncan as the only suspect.

  She sighed. They were just going round in circles, reaching the same point again and again. The point where she didn’t want to be. Duncan had to be cut out of the equation somehow.

  Jake glanced at her. ‘Where do you want to go next?’

  ‘I don’t know. Is there a library in town, a place with old books and old maps, where we can get an impression of the dig site in older days? Maybe it can give us a clue as to other people’s rights to it. Some more information about that elusive bride and the cruel man who allegedly killed her could come in handy too.’

  ‘I think I saw a notice that the big house on the square, with the elaborate woodwork carving under the roof in front, functions as town hall and that it also holds archives. We could start there.’

  ‘Great idea.’ Alkmene untangled her hair. ‘Sarah did mention that Blackcastle doesn’t have a mayor any more, that he moved to another village. But that this man, Mr Page, was still working there. Not only does he seem to have a book collection, but he also showed interest in the treasure. He should be a great source of information about it. If you try and find out claims and rights to the land, I will read up on the bride. I have always had a thing for dramatic stories.’

  ‘No treasures hidden anywhere on the family keep?’

  ‘Our keep as you call it is just a country home.’ Alkmene stretched her arms ahead of her as far as she could. ‘There does seem to be some old family tie with ancestors in Scotland, but I really have no idea if there are any treasure-holding keeps there I could lay claim to. Maybe I should look into it some time and we can go there together.’

  Jake laughed. ‘We would be better off investigating that than this dark business.’

  The building marked out as the town hall was grand enough to deserve the name. Alkmene rang the bell and waited ’til the door swept open. A wiry man with rimmed glasses on the tip of his reddish nose squinted at her. ‘Yes?’

  ‘We would like to see some maps and books about regional history. I’m Lady Alkmene Callender, a friend of the Honourable Duncan Woolsbury. This is a friend of mine from London, Mr Jake Dubois.’

  ‘Leonard Page. Last remnant of town hall.’ The man shook his head. ‘Very sad about the murder. I was so pleased that the son of a real viscount came out here to dig. High time somebody with power took our local lore seriously. I believed he would add another chapter to our town history. But now it seems we will just have an extra legend. The case of the murdered man on the dig.’

  Jake said, ‘A legend implies a story of old that may or may not be true. In this case there was a murdered man.’

  ‘Oh, yes, but why was he put on the dig?’

  ‘Put on the dig?’ Alkmene echoed.

  Page blinked at her. ‘Did you not hear? The doctor who was asked to come look at the
body claimed he had bled elsewhere and was moved to the exact spot where he was found.’

  Alkmene’s jaw sagged. Nobody had mentioned this before. ‘But the doctor did believe that the murder weapon was that hammer found on the spot?’

  ‘I think there was blood on the hammer.’ Page frowned. ‘I’m not quite sure what that means. If it is conclusive evidence that it was used as the murder weapon.’

  Alkmene made a mental note to find out more about that and gestured at him. ‘Do you mind if we come inside? The rain has stopped but it’s still very chilly.’

  ‘Of course. Please forgive my manners, Lady Alkmene.’ Page stepped back. ‘I do get a bit distracted when an interesting puzzle presents itself.’

  ‘I totally understand.’

  They followed him in, down the corridor, into a room with bookshelves along all the walls. They were covered with books and stacks of paperwork, while there was a desk likewise weighted down by stacks. On the floor papers were spread and in the single empty spot stood a coffee cup, still half full.

  Page waved a hand at it. ‘I was just having some coffee. Would you like some? You look cold too. Must have been out in the rain. No, your hair is not wet. But the noses of your shoes are. Hmm. Mysterious.’

  Alkmene smiled at the little man’s perceptiveness. ‘We took a walk on the beach. We met Old Paul, the beachcomber.’

  Page rubbed his hands together. ‘Coffee for you two then.’ Without waiting for a response he bustled out of the room.

  Jake hitched a brow at Alkmene, then strode to the bookcases. He seemed to be reading all of the titles as quickly as he could. Alkmene heard metallic clanging coming from somewhere as their host prepared their coffee. She longed for something hot and tasty to warm her.

  Jake made a soft sound to draw her attention and pointed at a leather-bound volume on a lower shelf. Alkmene came over and checked the words on the spine. Golden Lore: Mythical Treasures through the Ages.

  Footfalls indicated their host’s return, and as if on cue they turned away from the bookcase, smiling idly as they looked around.

  Page bustled in and handed them their cups. Alkmene’s had a chipped rim.

  Page went to stacks of books in a corner, putting some on the floor to reveal part of what had to be an old sofa. The colour had once been bright pink but had faded from sunlight and the pressure of books.

  ‘Here, do sit down,’ he said. ‘I will be happy to hand you any book you wish to see.’

  Alkmene sat down and blew into the hot coffee. It seared through the china against her cold fingertips.

  Jake remained standing, his feet planted apart. ‘Why did you call yourself last remnant of town hall?’

  Page gave him a cheeky grin. ‘I used to be the clerk of this town hall, when we still had our own mayor. But some years ago we were sort of…combined with other villages into a single whole. The old mayor left for London and the new one moved to the other town and well… It has never been quite the same. But I’m still here, and so are the archives.’

  He waved his arm over his head. ‘I can give you any information you may need.’

  Alkmene leaned back, supporting her elbow on a remaining pile of books. She wanted to see Golden Lore up close, but not before she had figured out if Page had any more surprises up his sleeve, like the one about the body having been moved. ‘What else do you know about the murder that nobody has told me?’

  Page lowered himself into the clear space of floor and sat with legs crossed, looking at her. The light reflected in his glasses. There was something a little offbeat and odd about him. This was his fortress of books and papers. Like he had said, he had stayed on after the others had left, sort of stopping time inside this haven.

  Page said, ‘How can I know what they told you or not?’

  ‘Well, not about the body having been moved around, that’s for sure. How do you know anyway? Are you close with the police?’

  ‘Oh, dear, no.’ It sounded like it would be an outrage.

  ‘You don’t like Constable Aldridge?’ Jake prodded.

  Page grimaced and said, ‘In the old days we were always in each other’s hair. The mayor wanted the constables to be extra alert for poaching. But they were all related to or friends with people who poached and so they believed they should turn a blind eye. Especially Aldridge. A hunter himself, he understood those poachers perfectly. No arrest was ever made, not even a fine given. On their part, those coppers wanted more pay and better headquarters, which the mayor thought nonsense. You can imagine the atmosphere. They wouldn’t have given me the time of day if I had asked for it. Which of course I never would have.’

  Alkmene suppressed a smile.

  Jake asked, ‘So if you don’t get your information from the police, who told you?’

  ‘The innkeeper’s son. Miles.’ Page rubbed his forehead. ‘I suppose you’re staying at The Catch so you must have met him. Met the whole family – you must have.’

  There was a strange tone of satisfaction to his voice as if it mattered a lot that she would have.

  Alkmene was confused by the revelation. ‘Miles was actually there when the dead body was found and examined?’

  He had been there when Duncan had found the bracelet. Duncan had seen him standing on a hillock watching him. Was it a coincidence he had also been there when Reiner Goodman’s dead body had been found?

  Leonard Page looked from Alkmene to Jake and back. ‘Are you really here for books, or for something else?’ He focused on Jake. ‘You’re a newspaper man, I’d say.’

  Alkmene flushed. ‘Jake is a reporter, yes, but he is not here to write up a story. He was in Plymouth for a meeting and just came over here with his car to help me get around. The chauffeur who brought me originally left again.’

  ‘Heinrich Kramer.’ Page’s expressive features carried a curious expression for a moment. ‘Yes, he’s gone again. But not for long, I reckon. He’s not done here yet.’

  Jake said, ‘So you know about Kramer’s activities?’

  Page’s eyes gleamed. ‘What a subtle way to put it.’

  He looked at Alkmene again. ‘You’re a friend of Duncan Woolsbury, you said. Are you here to prove his innocence?’

  Alkmene figured there was little point in lying to this man. ‘Yes. I was treated with so much antagonism by the local police that I felt Duncan needed someone else to look into his case.’

  Having just heard how much Page resented Aldridge and the police in general, she might play on that enmity to get him to open up.

  Page grinned. ‘Aldridge can’t solve this case. He’s so blinded by prejudice he wouldn’t see a clue if he stumbled over it. It would be gratifying to see him snubbed. By a woman.’

  Alkmene wasn’t quite sure whether this was a compliment or a subtle insult.

  Page said, ‘Aldridge didn’t even ask me for my testimony, although I was there.’

  ‘Where?’ Jake and Alkmene asked in unison.

  ‘At The Catch, when the news came in about the murder. I always do breakfast at The Catch. There is no place in the world that has better bacon.’

  Alkmene frowned. Bacon? But she had only had porridge and prunes. Apparently there was different treatment for locals and outsiders.

  Page continued, ‘Besides, those were my ways when the town hall was still functioning and that’s what I keep on doing.’

  Like his surroundings, this confirmed that he was one of those types who can’t handle change and just keep acting like nothing happened. He was playing his part all day long, keeping his version of town hall alive.

  Jake said impatiently, ‘So you were there when the news came in about the dead body on the dig. Who brought the news?’

  ‘One of the workers. Chap in overalls. Cried about an accident having taken place in the night, somebody taking a fall in a pit or something. It was a bit unclear what had happened exactly and if the body was easily accessible. The doctor was having his breakfast, havi
ng been up late for a delivery, and he looked doubtful going out there when he knew so little. So Miles, who is a sturdy lad, offered to come with him to help out. Maybe carry the body to a safer place for an examination? On the dig site there are a lot of pits with unstable walls of shifty sand, you know. If the body had been down in one of those, it would have been risky for a man alone to get into it for the examination.’

  Alkmene nodded distractedly. She only wanted to know one thing. ‘Miles offered help of his own accord? The doctor didn’t ask him? Or his father didn’t offer that Miles could lend a hand?’

  ‘No, no, Miles offered of his own accord. The three of them took off at once, the chap in overalls leading the way to show them where the body was exactly. A couple of others finished up breakfast really quick to go after them and see what was up. They all like a little entertainment here in town.’

  Jake said, ‘An accident is hardly entertainment.’

  ‘Well, when Mr Woolsbury came out here, everybody knew there was bound to be trouble. We were all just waiting for it. I think we all thought it was him lying dead in the ditch.’

  Page stared ahead thoughtfully. ‘Him having this roving eye and all.’

  ‘Roving eye?’

  Page blinked at her. His cheeks flushed. ‘I have no wife or daughter so I don’t know but some men were claiming he was flirting with the girls. Some were mad enough about it to go after him.’

  ‘Some?’ Alkmene pressed.

  Page sighed. ‘The owner of The Catch foremost. I think Miles offered to go with the doctor to see if his father might have done the killing. Very upset he looked as he went.’

  ‘I see.’ This was interesting indeed. ‘And when was Duncan informed?’

  ‘I have no idea. If people thought it was him dead on the dig, they might not have bothered to send anybody over to his cottage.’

  Alkmene frowned. Peartree had told her Duncan had been very nervous on the morning the body had been found. Like he had already been aware something was wrong. She had to ask him again how much he had known.

  Page said, ‘I must confess I also went out to the dig to have a look. I didn’t come very close. I have a morbid fear of blood, you know. But I did want to know who it was. If it was Mr Woolsbury himself or someone else.’