‘That’s exactly what the clerk at the Stonehenge shop said.’
‘And who’s the woman?’
‘That’s what we don’t know,’ said Alan. ‘But according to Sammy, this is a picture of their first meeting – at the bluestone quarry. Sammy says Caine saw her, went over to talk to her, and shortly after she left, got Sammy to carry off that piece of stone that we later found in my car.’
‘And … wait for it,’ I chimed in, ‘the clerk recognized her as a woman who came to the shop and made a scene, plainly out of her gourd, ranting about the history of Stonehenge and how they had it all wrong. She, the clerk, wrote her off as a particularly crazy latter-day Druid. She even tried to smash one of the pieces from the chess set. So isn’t it interesting that she and Caine talked together? And that a pawn from that chess set was found in the loot?’
Rob finished his pint. ‘Alan, if you’ll let me have the picture for a few minutes, and ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get this circulated as soon as possible. I won’t be long. When you’re ready to order your meals, order one for me, too. Sylvie, you know what I like. Back soon.’
‘You think this woman is a part of the problem?’ Sylvie took a sip of beer.
‘I think, and this may be just my own weird brain at work, but I think she might be the key to the whole thing. For one thing, the thefts haven’t made much sense. She apparently doesn’t have a whole lot of sense. And she’s not a nice person. I have two pieces of evidence for that judgement: first, her behaviour at the Stonehenge shop, which Alan and I happened to witness, and second, Sammy’s opinion of her. He said he didn’t like her, and the drawing has his feelings written all over it. And I have great respect for Sammy’s ability to judge character. I know, I know, Alan. None of this is evidence.’
‘No. But it’s suggestive. I agree with you about Sammy’s reaction to the woman. We’re told he likes almost everyone. When he takes an instant dislike to someone, there’s a reason. I’m inclined to think it’s based on his uncanny ability to see right through people.’
‘As against that, let’s not forget that he liked Caine very much at first. And didn’t you two think he was pleasant when you first met him?’
‘I don’t know that I thought much about it.’ I searched my memory. ‘He was just someone who talked to us for a few minutes. He was interesting. You took him for a London cabbie, didn’t you, Alan?’
‘As I recall, yes. I usually like London cabbies, so that must mean that my impression was favourable. Like you, I scarcely remember.’
‘And even when he cannoned into me at the shop, he was pleasant and considerate. It was only later that I began to wonder whether he was up to something. And that was because other suspicious things had happened. More twenty-twenty hindsight.’
‘So if you two,’ persisted Sylvie, ‘who are pretty good at sizing up people yourselves, if you were fooled by Caine, I think it’s reasonable to suppose that Sammy could be taken in at first by someone who was nice to him, gave him presents, gave him something fun to do.’
‘Yes, and … oh, I’ve just thought of something. When I was teaching, the thing that upset the Down children more than anything else was being betrayed. I told you about the sixth-grade crime wave. The child, Bert, who was the victim of those hoodlums was devastated when he worked out what they’d done to him. He never forgave them, hated them with a burning passion. And they had the sense to steer clear of him after that.’
Sylvie nodded. ‘Yes, that makes sense. Sammy’s a good friend, but a bad enemy. He loves the manager of the abbey shop, and I once saw him tear into a man who was giving her a hard time. He was furious! I was helping out that day, and I had to go over to the customer after he’d left the shop and give him a few words of wisdom.’
‘Right,’ said Alan, summing up our musings. ‘So we agree that this unknown woman is probably a bad lot. But as long as we’re spinning a web of possibilities, what might be her role in our imaginary gang? Is she Caine’s colleague, assistant, boss – what?’
I sipped my beer and thought about that for a while. ‘Caine thought she was going to be a customer,’ I said at last. ‘When he made Sammy steal that stone, rock, whatever you want to call it. I’ll bet they talked about Stonehenge for a bit, and he found out how demented she was on the subject, and thought he could get a good price from her out of a piece of bluestone.’
‘Okay, but what about the rest of the loot?’ demanded Alan. ‘Most of it had nothing whatever to do with Stonehenge.’
And neither Sylvie nor I could come up with an answer to that.
The restaurant was filling up, and the smell of food was making all of us hungry. ‘Rob is taking longer than he thought,’ I commented.
‘He almost always does,’ said Sylvie. ‘Let’s order. I won’t order for him, though. Who knows how long he’ll be?’
In fact we had almost finished our fish and ships (much better eaten fresh and hot) when Rob walked in. He stopped first at the bar to order his food, and looked over with lifted eyebrows to query us about beer. Sylvie and I refused, miming drinking from cups. When Rob brought over a tray with two brimming glasses and two brimming coffee cups, we made room for him and let him sit down before Sylvie said, ‘Well?’
‘Well, indeed. Pass, friend, and all’s well.’ He held up his beer glass. ‘Here’s to Sammy!’
‘Okay,’ I said when we had all toasted in our respective beverages, ‘I think we all agree to that, but why, in particular?’
‘Because his picture has broken the case! This is a celebration, ladies and gentlemen!’
He grinned. We waited. I finally said, ‘Are you going to make us beg?’
‘I thought a little suspense might be in order.’
‘I have,’ said Sylvie sweetly, ‘a very hot cup of coffee here.’ She raised it, not to her lips.
Rob grinned even more broadly. ‘Which you know you want to drink, rather than pour over my head. All right, you’ll hear the whole story. It all begins with the picture. Which reminds me.’ He reached inside his jacket. ‘Here it is, without a scratch. Which is lucky. Because when Caine saw it, he lunged for it. I was lucky to keep it out of his hands.’ He took a swig of beer. ‘Aahh. That hits the spot. Now, where was I?’
‘Showing Caine the picture. What is his name really, by the way?’
Rob laughed, nearly choking on his beer. ‘Jack Robinson!’
‘No! Not really!’ we chorused.
‘He swears he was christened John Robinson, and backed it up with information about when and where. We’re checking it out, of course, but I think we’ll find it’s true. I just wish it were a little further removed from my name.’
Alan ignored that. ‘So he’s talking now,’ he said with satisfaction.
‘A blue streak. As I said, it was the picture that did it.’
‘So Caine/Smith/Robinson saw it. I’d have thought he’d make fun of it, refuse to see anything except a childish scrawl.’ I reached over to the next table, whose occupants had departed, leaving a tray with milk and sugar behind. I doctored my coffee and shoved the tray over to Sylvie.
‘That’s what he tried to do later, but his initial reaction put the lie to his disclaimer. So then he changed his tactics and blamed everything on the lady.’
‘Charming,’ said Sylvie. ‘No, thanks, I take mine black. When in doubt,’ she went on, ‘say it’s the woman’s fault. They’ve been doing it since Adam.’
‘What’s her name?’ asked Alan, ever the policeman eager for facts.
‘He claims he doesn’t know it, and I’m inclined to believe him. Lovely, thank you, Sue,’ as the waitress put his dinner in front of him.
We paused as she cleared away our used plates and utensils, which gave poor Rob a chance at a bite or two of food before we insisted that he go on with the story.
‘Claims he doesn’t know her name,’ I prompted.
‘He says she calls herself “Priestess of Truth” and says she is the only true Druid left in the
world, a direct descendent of the ones who built Stonehenge. Apparently this all came out in a series of meetings when Jack, as I guess we have to get used to calling him, was trying to work out a plan for making capital out of her obsession.’ Rob ate some chips and washed them down with beer.
‘Her mission in life is apparently to spread the truth about Stonehenge and destroy the blasphemers and their sacrilegious temples. I’m quoting, you understand, as he was quoting her. Jack decided that stealing from those sacrilegious temples might please her, and net him a nice tidy little sum.
‘Not that he put it that way. It was all her idea, according to him. She told him she wanted to build a sort of black museum of relics of heretical history, but she didn’t want to buy anything from these profane institutions. That would be supporting them and their ideas. Far better to steal it. Or get Sammy to steal it. She – the “priestess” – wanted some things from the abbey gift shop, but apparently Sammy dug in his heels at that.’
‘Good for him! So Sammy stole the other things for Caine, who handed them over to the woman, who then, presumably, paid Caine. I mean Jack. Not very logical.’ I poured myself some more coffee.
‘Logic,’ said Alan drily, ‘would not seem to be an outstanding characteristic of this woman. I wish we had something to call her!’
Rob glanced at his wife and me. ‘I’ve thought of several things to call her, actually, but not in this company. But I’ve saved the best for last. We may not know her name, but we know where to find her. Jack had made an appointment with her for tonight, to turn over the latest collection of loot.’
‘That would be the stuff from our trunk. Boot.’
‘Right. We intend to keep that appointment.’
‘With an officer substituting for Jack.’ I rubbed my hands with glee.
‘No. With Jack himself. We’re offering him a certain amount of clemency if he cooperates.’
‘He’ll be wired, of course.’
‘Of course. And under close surveillance.’
‘Rob … no. Forget it.’
‘I wonder if I can guess what my wife was about to say.’ Alan looked at me. ‘You want to go along.’
‘Of course I do, but I quite realize it’s out of the question. You can’t have a civilian horning in on a police operation, especially when it’s going to be a delicate one. There might even be a certain amount of danger. And I could get in your way.’
Rob looked at Alan and then at me. ‘Dorothy, you’ve made all my arguments for me. So there’s really nothing left for me to say except, get your coat. We haven’t much time.’
THIRTY-ONE
Rob’s driver took us all in an unmarked police car. Rob leaned over so he could talk to us in the back seat. ‘I knew you’d want to come, Dorothy, and I could see no real reason why not. You and Alan were in this from the beginning. It’s only fair that you see the end. Or what I hope will be the end. These things don’t always work out as planned, you know.’
‘I do know. Alan’s told me about some real disasters. But Rob, how did you get Jack to agree to this? I mean, there must have been something besides the gentle bribe.’
‘Oh, there was, there was! That was what gave me the idea in the first place. Turns out the reason Jack reacted so violently to the picture of the Priestess is because he’s furious with her. He’s given her all kinds of things for her museum or whatever she calls it, and now she’s refusing to pay him. They’d made arrangements for a bank transfer, and now she says she’s changed her mind. Her project is to be a shrine, and objects in a shrine should be freely given.’
I couldn’t help giggling. ‘So he’s gone to all this trouble for nothing, got himself arrested and charged, and he won’t get a thing out of it except some time in jail.’
‘I wouldn’t feel too sorry for him,’ said Sylvie. ‘Don’t forget what he’s done to Sammy.’
‘Did you ask him about that, Rob? Was he the one who pushed him in?’
‘He swears not. Claims he really likes Sammy and wouldn’t dream of doing him harm. I’m quoting again.’
The police car slowed, and the driver asked Rob something. He pointed, and then turned back to us and spoke very quietly. ‘Here we are. Lee’s going to park here; the rendezvous is round the corner. Most of the cars you see belong to us. Once we have the evidence we need on tape, we’ll move in. There’s no telling how it will go down. The lady has been known to lose her temper on occasion, as you observed. So I will ask you all to say nothing, and not to move out of the car. I’m giving you all earbuds so you can hear what’s happening, but you are not to react in any way, even if Lee and I have to leave the car. Is that clear?’
I murmured agreement, and I meant it. I truly did. Honestly.
Rob doled out the earbuds, which I found surprisingly uncomfortable. I could hear nothing. I looked at the others, miming a question. They shook their heads. Alan pointed to his watch, which I took to mean that we were a little early, and the action wouldn’t start for a little while. My nerves were taut, my muscles tense. I tried to relax them.
‘Mr Smith, you are late.’ The voice came so clearly in my ear that I jumped and looked around. Just us, in the dark car, on the dark street corner.
‘I was busy, madam.’
‘You will address me properly, sir.’
‘How can I do that, when you haven’t seen fit to entrust me with your name? Or indeed your address.’
That was Caine, unmistakably. That hint of London was there even when he was being formal. As for the other voice, the woman’s … I mentally shrugged. I’d heard too little of that argument at the Stonehenge shop to be sure this was the same person.
‘My worldly name is unimportant. We are wasting time. Have you brought me the blasphemous jewels?’
‘No, I have not. I am waiting for you to pay me what you owe.’
‘I have told you why I will not do that. This is not a matter of commerce, but of enlightening the world to their folly and sacrilege. How dare you reduce it to a base matter of filthy lucre!’
‘I find that I enjoy eating and drinking, and a warm place to live. All that requires some of that filthy lucre. I’ve done what you asked of me, madam, and more. Now I want my money.’
‘You grow tiresome, Mr Smith. I find that I have no further need of your services. You may go.’
‘Not until you pay me!’
She apparently ignored that. ‘I must find someone else to provide me with what I need. Perhaps that boy … unless he dies …’
‘And that’s another thing! If he dies you’ll have murder on your conscience! You had no reason to push him into that damned pool!’
‘It was necessary. He was beginning to be dangerous. I’d have thought even you would understand that. He no longer trusts you, and if he talks to the authorities about what you asked him to do, you could be in a great deal of trouble.’
‘Me! What about you? You’re the one behind this whole crazy plan! You’re cracked, that’s what you are!’
‘You will not refer to me in that way!’
I thought her voice was going to shatter my eardrum.
‘I am the Priestess of Truth! I have powers you cannot conceive of! You will leave me, peasant!’
‘I will not leave without my money!’ He was shouting, too, but his voice, a couple of octaves lower, wasn’t so painful.
A very quiet male voice sounded in my ear, cutting out the other voices. ‘Go in now, Rob?’
‘Not quite yet. But be ready.’
The others came back, louder and shriller than before. ‘You will be punished! You will be punished by the spirits of the earth!’
‘And so will you, by the Bill! For hurting Sammy, and trying to kill that driver and that idiot woman!’
Then no words could be distinguished, only screams and shouts and the sound of something breaking. ‘Now!’ said Rob, as he left the car and raced toward the corner.
He got there at exactly the same moment as a tall woman in billowing white robes. She
was screaming at the top of her very powerful lungs, and looking back as she ran. She cannoned into Rob, knocking him flat.
All three of us were out of the car, against orders, almost before Rob hit the ground. Alan spoke into the radio on Rob’s shoulder: ‘Officer down! Need back-up immediately!’ Meanwhile he was trying to restrain the woman, who was fighting him with the strength of the mad. I tried to help him, while Sylvie knelt by Rob and tried to assess the damage. A phalanx of policemen approached at a run from around the corner, but before they could get there the Priestess of Truth landed a kick on my head and I quietly left the scene.
Things were very quiet when I opened my eyes. Quiet and dark. My head seemed to be a balloon, trying to float loose. I turned it to try to see, and regretted it instantly.
‘Better not try to move for a bit,’ said a voice I felt I ought to recognize. A pleasant voice. ‘Talk some more,’ I said, but I didn’t seem to make any sound.
An interval. Something cool and soothing on my head. The voice again. ‘Are you with us, darling?’
‘Alan?’
‘The very same. They don’t want you to talk, so I’ll explain. You got the hell of a kick in the head from that she-devil. The paramedics did triage, decided you weren’t as bad as Rob, and gave you a shot for the pain. How is it, by the way?’
‘Bloody.’
‘My dear! I’m shocked. It will probably get worse, but they think there’s no concussion.’
‘Where?’
‘In the police car. Things were a bit lively there for a bit, and the ambulances were needed for Rob and the priestess.’
‘Hurt?’
‘Not really, but raving mad. They had to use a straitjacket, and it took three men to get her into it.’
I swallowed and licked my lips. ‘Drink.’
I think he gave me some water, or ice, or something, and that’s the last I remember before waking up to bright sunlight in a comfortable bed.
The Bath Conspiracy Page 24
