Deadly Treasures

She was moving around a bit while talking and caught the constable’s glance. Like he had perked up. At her mention of the castle?

She lowered her voice as she continued, ‘Also find out if Duncan is in any financial trouble. And female friends, if you can dig up some.’

If Peartree had been right in his observations about ‘casual girlfriends’, there had to be plenty. She only had to glance out of the window to see Simon Peartree talking to the girl with the basket, who had apparently come back from her grocery shopping. Little Sarah, as Peartree had referred to her earlier. There were several wrapped parcels in the twine basket, as well as the green heads of leek.

Upon closer examination Sarah didn’t seem quite as young as she had earlier. She could be twenty. Suitable for Duncan anyway?

Just then the girl burst into tears and ran off into the building on the corner of the village square. Not into the right half of it in front of which she had been brushing the horse, but the left half, with a sign over the door depicting a net full of fish. ‘The Catch’ was written underneath in chipped golden letters.

That was the inn Alkmene was staying at. Wonderful. It would give her a chance to connect with this Sarah and find out more about her relationship with Duncan.

She refocused on the phone call and said to Jake, ‘Besides all you can find about Duncan, I also want everything on the victim. His name was Reiner Goodman.’

‘German?’ Jake asked.

‘Could be.’

For a moment it struck Alkmene as possibly significant that the Woolsbury driver was also German. The enigmatic Kramer, who had been so tight-lipped all during their journey, but who had readily confided in her that Duncan had a love interest here that he was keeping hidden from his family. She didn’t suppose the driver had told her because he felt sorry for her, turning up where she was not wanted. What could have been his purpose with that revelation?

Shaking her head to concentrate, she pushed on. ‘You should find out if Goodman was German. And if he was a connection of Duncan Woolsbury’s patron, the famous Trevor Price. Also find out what Price was working on before his health trouble sent him on a long holiday. After all, his ill health got Duncan the job here. I also want to know why this dig is so important. I mean, I do understand digs in Egypt, but here… Like you said, there must be more than a medieval village to unearth.’

‘All the more reason for me to come out as soon as I can. See you later.’ And Jake disconnected.

With a huff Alkmene put down the receiver. Jake believed he could gather some information, drive down here and solve the crime. But in Plymouth he was cut off from his main source of information: his London street informers. He could not call them and he could not meet with them in person. He had to rely on other contacts who were reachable by phone. Maybe a newspaper colleague or someone at a club? It could get him background information, but not the details of the murder and the possible suspects. That information was right here in Blackcastle. At her fingertips.

Alkmene smiled. In their first investigation Jake had dismissed her offer to trade information because he had been sure he held much more than she did. This time their trade would be even. When he came in, she would have something substantial to share.

She smiled at the policeman who surveyed her with narrowed eyes. A second one had come in, younger, with unruly blond curls. He said, ‘Everybody knows why the dig was so important.’

‘Oh?’ Alkmene hitched a brow. ‘When I was there just now, I did not see anything particularly exciting.’

‘Well, there has to be something, or else they wouldn’t have written threats on the wall for him to get out, would they?’

The constable at the desk shook his head at his colleague. ‘Don’t tell the lady nonsense, Eddy.’

Eddy looked innocent. ‘It isn’t nonsense. There were words carved there in the planking of the tool shed. Mr Woolsbury had me come in and look at it to deduce who had put it there.’

The older constable scoffed. ‘And could you deduce it, Eddy?’

Eddy hung his head. ‘Not really. But I’m working on it.’

‘Sure you are.’ The constable got up and waved his hand at the younger man. ‘You better get back out there to see about that stolen bicycle Ms Rivers complained about.’

‘It isn’t stolen. She just misplaced it. She always does.’

The other growled, ‘If I say so, you go.’

The young man grimaced. ‘All right.’ He turned to Alkmene and said, ‘You will hear about it soon enough. Everybody knows about it. Especially Mr Page. He has been looking for the Black Castle gold for ages.’

Alkmene’s eyes went wide. ‘The Black Castle what?’

Chapter Four (#u36aad884-34d7-5d88-ab66-cdea2a4e29f6)

The older constable came for them with a raised hand. ‘Out of here, Eddy. I won’t warn you again.’

The younger man inched back as if he was really afraid to be slapped by his superior. He muttered a greeting to Alkmene and took off.

His older colleague stared after him with narrowed eyes. ‘Young people. Know absolutely nothing about police work. Or local history. Just tidbits that stir their imagination. Gold!’

He shook his head as he returned to his desk. He leaned over his typewriter and attacked the keys with determination. It was plain Alkmene would get nothing more out of him. She had to hope Jake would hear something about the real purpose of the dig in his inquiries into Trevor Price’s work before he had been cut off by his lung problem.

As Alkmene walked back out, into the sunshine, her mind raced. The viscount had said Duncan was excavating a medieval village. Now there was suddenly talk of something like the Black Castle gold. It sounded potentially sensational.

Had Duncan lied about his true purpose here? Just to his father, or also to his employer Trevor Price?

Was that why Duncan had not been happy when someone from the archaeological circles in London had appeared to see him? Had he believed his whole scheme would fall through?

Had he wanted to return to London with a major find to prove that he was more than just a titled man with money who liked his little hobby? That he was a serious contender in the field?

But how secret a scheme had it been when the younger policeman, Eddy, knew all about it? Even claimed everybody around here knew about it? Especially some Mr Page.

Maybe she had to ask who he was and go see him right away?

But before she was two paces away from the police station, the dismissive constable appeared behind her. His hand on her shoulder made her start.

‘You better be careful what you get into.’ His expression was solemn. ‘That excavation has caused no end of trouble in the village, you know. We’d all be glad to see those people leave again.’

‘I saw locals there working,’ Alkmene countered. ‘I’d think the village would welcome the offer of extra work.’

‘Oh, but some have worked there and have been fired, for supposedly taking something.’ The policeman leaned over to her, a strange fire in his deep-set eyes. ‘The threat left on his tool shed wasn’t the only thing that happened, you know. After Woolsbury fired the innkeeper’s son, accusing him of theft, the villagers were not happy and they waited on Woolsbury one night as he walked from town to his cottage and beat him up.’

Alkmene gasped. ‘Beat up a big man like Duncan?’

‘If there are enough of you, you can overcome any man. Two black eyes he had the next morning and no end of bruises.’ The policeman sounded almost smug. ‘He wanted us to investigate who had done it and punish them, but how would we know? He himself had seen no faces, it being half dark and all. And as he had drunk quite a lot of liquor, his testimony about their number and appearance wasn’t worth a penny. How can we find those people not even knowing how many there were or what they looked like?’

‘Perhaps you are not trying very hard either, knowing they would be your own people?’ Alkmene suggested.

He pulled back his shoulders. The sun glinted off his polished uniform buttons. ‘We do a good job here, we do. And now you’d better be leaving. There’s nothing left to do here for you. The gentleman will make his statement about what happened that night, and then we’ll see what we are going to do about him.’

Alkmene realized that neither Duncan nor she had made friends on the local police force. She retreated to Peartree, who still sat on the bench, chewing on an apple.

She sat down beside him and nodded at the apple. ‘A gift?’ She wanted to steer the conversation in the direction of doe-eyed Sarah, but Peartree pointed at the village store opposite with the inviting assortment of fresh vegetables and fruit laid out in crates on a table. ‘I pinched one to sweeten the wait.’

Alkmene hitched a brow. ‘You didn’t pay for it? No wonder the locals don’t like the invasion from London.’

Peartree laughed softly. ‘They started the hostilities, not us. Damage done to the site, things gone missing. They even waited for Duncan one night and beat him up.’

‘Yes, the constable just told me. Was it really because Duncan had fired someone?’