Between Two Thieves

by Solomon Carter

  DS Simmons. Eva had met the man on occasion and had been less than impressed. It seemed Hogarth held the man in similar esteem.

  “Does anyone know where that big gold band was picked up?” said Hogarth.

  There was a pause at the other end before a distant response. Hogarth returned on the line.

  “The man said he found it near the Marine Activity Centre. Not far from the flash bistro with the palm tree mural. The museum have been chasing us ever since, as has someone else, who claims ownership. Your client I presume.”

  “Our client, yes.”

  Hogarth became distracted by chatter at the other end, followed by a laugh. He snorted a laugh in reply before explaining himself.

  “Sounds like the guy who found it must have told a friend. Chinese whispers and all that. DS Simmons tells me that the beach down there is teeming with metal detector men and bucket and spade-carrying treasure hunters as we speak. Desperadoes, eh?”

  “Really?” said Eva. She looked up as Joanne landed a steaming mug of coffee on her desk. The look in Eva’s eyes caught the girl’s attention.

  “Chances are Alice Perry will be reporting on the great Southend Gold Rush tomorrow morning,” said Hogarth.

  “Let’s hope that’s all she has to write about,” said Eva.

  “That beach isn’t too far from you, is it?” said Hogarth, dropping a motivating hint. “I guess we’ll be speaking again soon, eh?”

  Hogarth didn’t waste any time on further pleasantries. The phone clicked as he hung up, and Eva shook her head. She had called Hogarth as an extra resource from her kitbag, and here he was turning the tables. The DI sounded as busy and wily as ever, but at least they knew where they stood with him. There was something to be said for that.

  The smell of coffee had Dan looking up from his laptop. He looked at the spare mug of coffee in Joanne’s hand.

  “Is that coffee available for drinking, or are you just teasing?” said Dan.

  “What? Oh,” said Joanne. She walked the coffee mug towards Dan and he took it from her and held it in both hands. Reclining in his chair, he looked across at Eva.

  “So what did Detective Inspector Hold-out tell you? From the look on your face I’d say Hogarth must have actually told you something.”

  “You’ve never warmed to him,” said Eva.

  “Or his predecessor. I’ve got good reason for that.”

  Eva sipped her coffee. She frowned as it scalded her mouth, but she took another sip anyway.

  “He says that Aaron Clancy’s Celtic gold piece was found by the Marine Activity Centre.”

  “And so?”

  “That’s the piece currently held in dispute with Aaron Clancy. The council are causing a fuss to ensure it isn’t part of the Saxon Gold. Something Hogarth said about it made me think – two losses like that suggest we might have a serious thief on our hands. Someone who could have done both robberies.”

  “It’s possible,” said Dan. “But we weren’t hired to catch a thief. We’ve been hired to track down the booty.”

  “But to find Clancy’s artefacts, we may have to catch that thief.”

  “I’m still not convinced,” said Dan. “It sounds like our thief has butter fingers if he’s dropping these items on the beach. Hogarth’s manipulating you.”

  Eva nodded. “I don’t know about that, but that’s not all Hogarth said. It turns out that half the town’s metal detectorists are down there now, trying to find their own pot of gold. Dan, if there’s anything else down there, we should be looking too.”

  “Hunting needles in a haystack?” said Dan.

  “I suppose. But we might not even need to hunt for the needles themselves. We could just take a look at the people hunting for the gold.”

  “We really are scraping the barrel today.”

  “But it’s possible that the person involved in that theft could be down there looking for what he left behind. And if that’s true, we might be able to identify him and follow him to the rest of Clancy’s missing artefacts.”

  Dan stood up. “So we do get to go down the beach after all. Should I bring a towel?”

  “No. But a bucket and spade really wouldn’t go amiss,” said Eva.

  She walked towards the door, passing Joanne and Mark on the way.

  “So do we get to come?” said Joanne.

  “Shall we let them?” said Dan. “Okay. But no ice cream. You’ve been naughty, remember.”

  Joanne shook her head. Her eyes suggested she was ready to cut loose with a quickfire reply. Dan waited for it, but thankfully she bit her lip.

  ***

  The beach was busy. The road was packed with an impatient stream of parents driving back from the seaside, with accompanying wails of young children coming from more than a few open car windows. The pavement was packed with walkers, booze-breathing drinkers, cyclists and late afternoon joggers. As soon as they reached the sea wall, they stopped and looked at the frenetic activity on the other side. A couple of blue-hatted PCSOs were milling around watching, standing out in the crowd because of their high-viz jackets. Around them were a diverse group of people, from kids in swimming trunks, to old men in eyewatering speedos, to a fractious, shifting group of no less than thirty or forty people armed with metal detectors and shovels going hell for leather at the sand in the wide patch between the Marine Activity Centre and the Seascape Bistro.

  “Look at all these people,” said Dan. “It’s like someone kicked an ants’ nest. They’re everywhere.”

  “Where do we start?” said Joanne.

  “How do we start?” said Mark.

  “We just go onto the sand and look around,” said Eva. “Use your eyes and ears.”

  They took a collective pause for breath before climbing the steps of the sea wall to join the melee on the other side. They split up and began to scatter among different sections of the beach. A middle-aged guy with big black shades and a large pot belly bursting from beneath his vest walked past Dan aiming his metal detector low at the sand. He walked in a straight line like he was mowing the lawn. When the man came to a human obstacle standing in his path, the man looked at the person in his way and waited until they stood aside. About thirty seconds later, the guy turned at the bistro wall and came straight towards Dan. Having taken the measure of the man, Dan folded his arms and waited. The guy slowed to a halt as his detector reached Dan’s boots. He looked at Dan’s face over the top of his shades. He was the breathy type, the kind of man who breathed through his mouth rather than his nose.

  “So what are you looking for?” said Dan.

  The guy pulled one of his sizeable earphones away from his head. His voice was nasal and deep. As soon as he spoke, Dan wondered whether the guy was ‘challenged’ in some way.

  “Someone found gold here. I’m here for the missing Saxon gold. Just like you and everyone else,” said the man.

  “You think you’ll find it here?” said Dan.

  “I’ve got the same chance as you, haven’t I? Better even, if I work methodically. Better still, you don’t have a detector.”

  “No. I don’t,” said Dan.

  “Finders Keepers,” said the man with a grin.

  “You wish,” said Dan.

  The man’s grin faltered and he nudged the metal detector towards Dan’s toes, suggesting he clear out of the way. Dan couldn’t help but smile. In more ways than one, the guy had a lot of guts.

  “I don’t have to wish,” said the guy as Dan moved aside with deliberate slowness. “If it’s here, I’m going to find it.”

  “How long have you been searching already?”

  “Since I heard about it. Since the morning.”

  The man’s answer left a doubtful look in Dan’s eyes. The man had been searching a long time. Surely there was nothing else to find by now.

  The man put his headphoes back over his ears and ploughed on across the sand to the next obstacle along. Dan watched the guy’s big butt move at a purposeful pace before he turned to scope the beac
h. He saw Joanne heading into the crowds near the bistro, Mark not far behind. Meanwhile, Eva was cutting along the side of the marine centre, stalking along the side of the building down towards the wooden platform at the back end of the jetty, the part which held racks of bright plastic kayaks and canoes. People watching. Dan could handle that. He set off down the beach, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder. Forget the bucket and spade or the metal detector. Dan only wished he’d brought a large bottle of water, and his shades..

  Hogarth had said the Celtic torq was found near the marine centre. That was as specific as it got. The treasure hunters were mostly digging and scanning the shingle between the bistro and the marine centre, which suggested some inside knowledge on the location of more treasure. But there was also a good chance human nature had taken hold instead, the herd mentality shifting the main hunt to the beach between the two buildings. It didn’t necessarily follow that the busiest patch was the place to be. Eva laid a hand on the edge of the wooden platform at the back of the marine centre and peered between the racks holding the kayaks and canoes. She stretched to get a look at the beach on the other side of the jetty, and from the limited view afforded her, Eva saw it looked almost empty. The emptier beach looked far more appealing. Not only because of the no-crowds aspect, but because it provided a good area to view the crowds from. Eva turned her head, and her gaze tracked down towards the end of the jetty, where it ended sharply in empty space and glistening mud. The tide was out, providing plenty more beach for the ambitious detectorists, and it also allowed Eva a means of escape to the sanctuary on the other side. She began to pick her way along the sand, weaving between the children joining in the search for fun, side-stepping the more territorial adults who were digging their patch. There was more than a hint of aggression on the air. The image of seagulls scrapping and pecking one another over a few chips came to mind. Any findings were likely to be just as meagre, but she guessed it wouldn’t stop them from pecking one another’s eyes out if the tension got any higher. Such human instincts were the very reason they had a business in the first place, but seen up close, Eva still didn’t like it. She eyed the vastly outnumbered PCSO’s and gave them a friendly nod. The large female PCSO didn’t respond but stared back at Eva as if she recognised her but couldn’t recall where from. Eva moved on. She picked her way down the beach, past another mass of people. Soon the shingle was replaced by firm soft sand and soon after it turned to sea mud – wet, boggy and thick. Eva looked at her shoes, looked at the mud, and glanced back at the sea wall. It was a long way back to take the pavement route. She shrugged, slipped off her shoes and pinched them together in one hand. She set off, her feet squelching into the soft, cold, oozing mud. Her lip curled at the sensation. She strived to keep her balance, ignoring the threat of the small solid objects deep in the mud. Eva reached the end of the jetty and reaching for the top edge of the wood for support. Her hand traced the edge of the jetty feeling the cold smooth galvanised metal hook and plate where small vessels would be able to tie off. She looked across at a wide grassy beach full of space. It wasn’t devoid of treasure hunters. She saw a few detectorists roving around, and a group of teenagers with shovels midway up the beach, but compared to what she had left behind, it was almost serene. Following the line of the jetty, she started to pick her way back along the emptier beach, her feet smothered in sand like a stinking clay. There was no way she would be able to put her shoes on until her feet were clean again. “Stupid,” she muttered. She looked around again. People-watching, was the aim of the game. There was a chance one of them was their thief. She scanned the loud teens and the few busy detectorists but felt uninspired by any of them. None seemed to be looking at a particular place. If the true thief was among them, then surely he would have been working a single area – the places he remembered he had walked when he dropped the torq. But there was no such person in sight. Maybe Hogarth’s idea wasn’t so bright after all. Would the thief come back or would he know they would be looking for him there? It all depended how smart he was. A smart man might give up the lost treasures and move on. A desperate man, well, that was a different story.

  Eva’s phone buzzed in her bag. Her eyes narrowed. Maybe they had found something on the other side. But Eva had another feeling about the message and with it came a whole lot of frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface for most of the day. She pulled her phone free and saw a voicemail reminder. She had ignored it once already, but there was no way of knowing without checking. She sighed, dialled 901, and put the phone to her ear. When the voice came on the line it was still almost shocking. Her heart sped up and she was plunged deep into a host of memories and sensations, recalling Lauren’s young face, her smile, and the better times.

  “Hi, Eva. It’s me again. Please, please, listen before you delete this message. I know, I honestly know you have plenty of reason to avoid speaking to me...”

  Eva’s eyes widened as they roved the beach. The sun beat down on her as she listened and took in the panoramic view of the pale sands all the way to the white masts of City Beach, the pier and Pirate Dan’s theme park. The seafront was awash with people as far as the eye could see. And yet here she was, alone, feeling again like an awkward teenage girl listening to the friend who had betrayed her all those years ago. Eva wanted to end the call, to stop the feelings, but she kept on listening and endured the message along with the heat.

  “...I acted like trash. I know it, and I’m so sorry. But I really hope you won’t hold that against me right now because I really, really need your help. If I could call anyone else to help me, if I knew of anyone else who knew what to do, I’d be doing that instead. Not because I don’t want to speak to you, but because I know you don’t want to speak to me...”

  “You didn’t speak to me, Lauren!” spat Eva to the unhearing message. “You cut me dead!”

  But the message rambled on, and Lauren’s words grew quieter, until soon her voice cracked altogether. Eva heard her sobbing as she spoke.

  “I’m in trouble, Eva. And by trouble, I mean danger. He’s out to hurt me. Yes, it’s a guy. He’s been trying to ruin my life and he won’t stop... and now it’s turned into threats and I really don’t know how it will end unless I get help. Real help. Not just words. I’ve tried all the usual channels. I’ve done what people always say to do, but it’s just not working. He’s got me trapped. But you, Eva... I heard what you do for a living these days. You were always so smart. You were the one who always knew what to do. So please... Please call me back. Say you’ll help me. I think you might be the only one who can.”

  The message ended there and Eva found herself swallowing a host of unwelcome emotions. Her throat ached. She pushed the thoughts away as best she could, her eyes glancing back at the teenagers digging in the sand. Eva felt the prickle of tears trying to force their way out, but she frowned and fought their advance. There was no way she was going to let Lauren hurt her again.. She needed to be tough, at least as tough as the girl had been with her. And yet...

  “Jeez, Eva. That was almost twenty years ago,” she told herself. “Half your life...”

  She watched one of the teenagers start to mess about with one of the old wooden dinghies used by the fishermen and yacht owners to row out to the boats anchored in the estuary. There was a line of upturned dinghies, running along the sand near the sea wall. The teenager toed one of the boats, then waved for his friend to join him. The boat lay close to the wall of the marine centre. Playing with those boats, the teens were going to cause a problem for someone, but Eva wasn’t in the mood to play the policewoman.

  “What about second chances and forgiveness, Eva?” she muttered, shaking her head, still caught in two minds. She looked at her phone screen. She saw the missed call and thumbed the screen once. Then thumbed it again to return the call.

  As soon as the call tone kicked in Eva shook her head and frowned. “Damn it. What the hell am I doing? She dumped you. Let her wait.”

  Three rings in, Eva cu
t the call. She pursed her lips and then, at the sound of an excited shout, she glanced up the beach. The young teen was still playing with one of the wooden dinghies and he was shouting for his other friends to join him. Eva’s brow dropped over her eyes. He sounded excited. Maybe a little too excited. They’d found something. Had he found the stash? But surely the treasure hunt couldn’t end here? It didn’t make sense. Eva started to stalk her way barefoot across the sand, the pebbles and shells painfully biting into her heels as she moved. She tried tiptoe, moving faster with every step. The teenagers gathering around the empty boat were turning into a wild frenzy. They must have found more gold. The nearest of the metal detector men had stopped his work to watch. In a matter of a minute, Eva knew the whole beach would gravitate to their noise. She gritted her teeth and broke into a kind of loping run. A shoe fell from her hand and she scraped it up, almost falling in the process. The detector man looked at her as she passed.

  “Have they found it?” one asked her. She didn’t reply. She pushed on until the young men heard her coming and the ones at the back turned to watch. She saw a wild-eyed look to them, as if they’d been caught red-handed in some lurid act. Eva didn’t understand it. They should have been celebrating.

  “We were looking for the gold...” said one, an apology in his voice. “The Saxon gold like in the museum, that’s all, like what they found,” said the nearest floppy-haired youth.

  “It wasn’t Saxon, it was Celtic,” said Eva. But she saw her words weren’t going in at all. Something was wrong.

  The teenager’s young companion dragged a hand down his face. “He’s telling the truth. We didn’t know this was here. This has got nothing to do with us...”

  The way he said it... the look in his eyes... a sudden chill rushed over her skin. “What is it?” she asked. The boy stood aside from the dinghy and Eva’s eyes dropped onto the thin ankle protruding from beneath the edge of the upturned boat. The other youth lifted the boat as if he wanted her to see – needed her to see what he had seen. He lifted the hull and there it was. The body of a man who looked like he had almost been turned into rock. Sandstone to be precise. Hunched and rolled up in a catatonic position lay the body of a small man encrusted in sand. His clothes were covered in it. Small dunes had gathered in the smallest folds and had covered parts of his body and legs. Sand covered some of his face, like a sea wave frozen as it lapped the shore. Eva blinked. “Oh my...” She frowned grimly. She’d seen death before many times, and it was never easy. And this was certainly not a natural death. There was no evidence of a wound, but beyond the thin cover of the sand there were hints of bruises, welts and contusions. The man had been badly beaten. And then what? Where was the fatal wound? Where was the congealed, sand-pooled stain of blood?