The Celtic Dagger

by Jill Paterson

  In his office later that day, James sat back in his chair, unable to concentrate any longer on the pile of essays he was working on. With the dagger found to be the murder weapon, the police would think his involvement in Alex's death even more plausible. He turned his desk lamp off and gathered the essays together. As he did so, he heard a knock on the door. It opened and Catherine appeared.

  ‘I’m sorry to arrive at this hour, James, but I need to speak to you.’

  James got up and walked over to her. ‘Don’t be. I’m glad you’re here.’ He put his hands on the upper part of her arms and looked into her blue eyes. ‘Are you feeling any better?’

  ‘A little. I took a tour group through the museum today. I’m so glad of that job now. It’s a good distraction.’ Catherine took off her scarf and black woollen coat, handed them to him and looked over the room. ‘I don’t know how you work in here, James. It’s no bigger than a cupboard. Why don’t you put in a request to be moved to a larger office?’

  James laughed. ‘There’s not much chance of that with Tristan Harrow at the helm.’

  Catherine wheeled around. ‘You’re not serious.’

  His eyebrows rose and he smiled. ‘I am.’

  ‘Well, all I can say is, he didn’t waste much time. Always did covet whatever Alexander did.’

  Catherine sat down on one of the two chairs in front of James’s desk and put her handbag on the other. ‘The police came to see me again. They said they’d found the weapon that killed Alexander. That dagger you spoke of.’ She paused. ‘Did they speak to you about it?’

  ‘Yes, last night.’

  Catherine nodded. ‘They didn’t tell me where they found it and I didn’t ask.’

  Aware of Catherine’s unease, James wondered whether to tell her, but then decided against it. What purpose would it serve for her to know the police suspected him? ‘I imagine they keep those details confidential during the investigation.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’ Catherine smoothed her skirt. ‘They also wanted to look through the house. I didn’t object. After all, I did find the ring in Alexander’s study. I suppose they were looking for that other artefact you mentioned. What was it?’

  ‘A torque. A type of necklace.’

  Catherine nodded. ‘Well, they didn’t find anything, of course, but I suppose it’s all part of their investigation.’ She shook her head. ‘Where will this all end?’

  James sensed Catherine’s despondence. ‘What did you want to talk to me about, Catherine?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I’d almost forgotten. I can’t seem to think straight lately.’ She reached into her handbag and brought out three envelopes. ‘I’ve started going through the mail that’s been piling up over the past few days, and these letters were amongst them. They’re from a bank and two finance companies. They all claim Alexander took out loans. It’s ridiculous, of course. There must be some mistake. As you know, your grandfather left the house to Alexander in his will. We’ve never needed a mortgage.’

  Catherine handed James the letters. As he read them, his expression became grave. ‘Well, according to this letter from the bank, there is a mortgage on the house now, and these papers from the finance companies look genuine enough. Didn’t Alex mention this to you?’

  ‘No, he took care of all the finances. We never discussed such matters.’

  James frowned. ‘So, you wouldn’t know if he was in financial difficulty?’

  ‘No, but I can’t imagine it can you? He was always so careful with money. You could even say stingy at times.’ Catherine smiled. ‘Come on. Don’t tell me that comes as a surprise. You know as well as I do that Alexander liked to be in control. As far as he was concerned, there was no reason to discuss finances with me.’ She shook her head. ‘I know what you’re going to say. I shouldn’t have let him get away with that sort of behaviour, but there you are. I suppose it was easier for me to let it go. Now, of course, it adds to my problems, but it’s my own fault.’

  James handed the letters back.

  Catherine said, ‘Tomorrow I’ll contact the bank and the finance companies and find out what’s going on.’

  ‘I’ll be happy to come with you.’

  ‘That’s kind, but I must start to do these things for myself.’ Catherine looked at the pile of papers on James’s desk. ‘Look, I’m going to leave you in peace. I can see you’re busy.'

  ‘I’ll walk out with you,' James replied. 'I’ve had enough for one day.’

  CHAPTER 9

  The next morning, James arrived at Vera’s office to find the door closed. He knocked and waited before it opened.

  ‘Oh, James. Thank goodness, it’s you. Come in.’

  ‘Are you all right, Vera? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘I’ve seen the torque,’ Vera whispered.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘The torque. One of the artefacts that’s still missing.’

  James glared at her. ‘But how did you know...’

  Miles told me all about it last night after the police had finished speaking to him.’

  ‘Well, he shouldn’t have passed that information on.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, James, I won’t breathe a word.’

  Vera closed the door as James stepped into her office.

  Doubtful that would be the case, James sat down in the chair beside Vera’s desk. ‘Where did you see it?’

  ‘In Tristan Harrow’s office. It’s similar to this.’ Vera pointed to a photograph in a book open in front of her. ‘I only saw it for a second or two because Tristan came into the room, but I’m certain that’s what it was.’ James looked down at the photograph of a gold torque displayed on a dark background.

  ‘I went to his office to retrieve a book I'd lent to him. It's due back at the library this afternoon. That’s why I looked through his desk. He keeps books in the bottom drawer. Anyway, when I opened it and took the book out, there was the torque at the back.’ Vera paused. ‘Do you think the theft of the artefacts, has anything to do with, Professor Wearing’s, death?’

  James frowned. ‘I don’t believe it’s been established they were stolen, Vera.’

  ‘Oh, I assumed... that is, with the police grilling Miles, I thought they must have been.’

  James got to his feet. ‘I think we’d better contact the police.’

  ‘I did that a few minutes ago. Chief Inspector Fitzjohn’s on his way.’

  ‘I see. Well, I’ll go have a word with Tristan before they arrive.’

  ‘Do you think that’s wise? In case it’s something to do with Professor Wearing’s death, I mean.’

  James did not reply but left the room and made his way along the hall to Tristan Harrow’s office, where there was a muffled response to his knock. When he opened the door, he found the room in near darkness and Tristan wearing the same green jumper and brown corduroy trousers as the day before. He sat in one of the armchairs, his head in his hands.

  ‘Are you all right, Tristan?’ James stood for a moment to let his eyes adjust before he picked his way through the books and papers that littered the floor. He sat down in the armchair opposite Tristan. The remains of what looked like lunch lay on top of the morning paper on the small table between them.

  Tristan looked up, his eyes dull and lifeless. ‘No, I’m not all right.’ He leant back in his chair. ‘What brings you here?’

  ‘I’ve just spoken to Vera.’

  ‘About this damned library book, I suppose.’ Tristan picked up a book that rested on his lap and threw it onto the table, knocking the plate to the floor. ‘She was in here when I came back from my lecture, raving on about the library. I swear that woman’s senile. The sooner she retires the better.’

  ‘It’s not about the book; it’s about the torque she saw in your desk drawer.’

  ‘Torque. What torque?’

  ‘It’s one of the artefacts we borrowed through the museum for the open day.

  ‘Then what would it be doing in my office? The woman
’s talking nonsense.’

  ‘Perhaps, but maybe not.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The artefacts were found missing on the morning of Alex’s death.’

  ‘What?’

  James recounted his conversation with Miles Bennett.

  Tristan frowned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this when we spoke earlier?’

  ‘The police asked me not to,' answered James.

  ‘I don’t give a damn what the police said. Acquiring the artefacts for the open day was my idea. How dare you keep me in the dark? Has Edward Sommersby been informed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right. Well, I’ll have a word with him myself as well. And as far as the torque being in my desk drawer is concerned, that’s preposterous.’

  ‘Even so, Vera says she saw it there not more than half an hour ago.’

  Tristan glared at James. ‘I don’t suppose I need to ask how Vera Trenbath knows about this. That woman minds everyone’s business but her own.’ Tristan stood up and walked to his desk where he started to pull out the drawers. ‘You see, as I expected. There’s nothing here.’

  ‘I believe Vera said it was in the bottom drawer at the back.’ Tristan bent down and peered into the last drawer. ‘Good God! The old bitch is right.’

  James moved over to the desk to look at the torque. Its strands of gold wire intertwined and twisted to form a large loop, the orb-like ends elaborate in their engravings.

  Tristan stood back with his arms folded. ‘Well, I can assure you I didn’t put it there. Take it back where it belongs.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that, Tristan. You see, Vera telephoned the police. Chief Inspector Fitzjohn’s on his way here now.’

  Tristan frowned. ‘What does Fitzjohn have to do with this?’

  ‘The artefacts are part of his investigation.’

  ‘You mean they have something to do with Alex’s death?’

  James shrugged. ‘You’ll have to ask Fitzjohn.’

  ‘I will.’ Tristan slammed the drawer shut, pushed past James and returned to the armchair where he slumped down heavily. James followed.

  ‘So, the torque is in my desk drawer, but the dagger and the ring are still missing.’

  James hesitated. ‘No. They’ve both been found.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Catherine found the ring in Alex’s study at home.’

  ‘Good grief. What was it doing there?’

  ‘I don’t know, Tristan, but I’m sure there’s a legitimate reason.’

  ‘Well, I can’t think of one. There’s absolutely no excuse for that ring to leave the university. None whatsoever. And what about the dagger? Was that there too?’

  ‘No. It was on my desk when I arrived yesterday.’

  ‘And the police know this?’ Tristan smirked. ‘I’d venture to say you’re in as much hot water as me.’

  James nodded, not keen to discuss his own precarious situation.

  ‘Tristan is there anyone you can think of who might have a grudge against you?’

  The smirk left Tristan’s face. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, if you didn’t put the torque in your desk, who did?’

  ‘I can’t imagine. I don’t have any enemies. Except for my estranged wife, that is.’ Tristan paused. ‘Caroline told me to leave last night and, about an hour ago, she asked for a divorce. I had to spend the night in a hotel.’ Silence followed.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tristan. I had no idea.’ James sat down again. ‘Did she give a reason?’

  Tristan drew a breath. ‘Oh, she’s got some silly idea I’ve been seeing someone else. Ridiculous, of course.’

  Aware of Tristan’s reputation as a womaniser, James, felt no surprise. ‘Is there any chance of reconciliation?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’ Tristan put his head in his hands again. After a moment, he looked back up. ‘Puts me in a bit of a bind, really. I can hardly demand a property settlement with our terrace house here in the city and the property at Bowral both having been left to Caroline by her parents.' James could see that Tristan was more disturbed by the threat to his comfortable existence than by the loss of Caroline.

  ‘Well, perhaps when everything’s settled down, you can come to some amicable settlement.’

  Tristan thumped his fist on the arm of the chair. ‘This business with this torque is the last thing I needed. I have nothing to do with it being in my desk, and I refuse to be dragged into a murder investigation.’

  ‘It’s too late, I’m afraid. You’re already involved.

  ‘Well, what about you? Seems to me you have the same problem.’

  ****

  James returned to his office to find Fitzjohn at the door, impeccably dressed in a dark grey suit, Sergeant Betts at his side.

  ‘Ah. There you are Dr Wearing. I wonder if we might have a word.’

  ‘Yes. Come in, Chief Inspector.’ James opened the door and ushered Fitzjohn and his Sergeant into the room ahead of him. He gestured for them to sit down.

  ‘Dr Trenbath tells us she’s seen the torque in Dr Harrow’s office.’

  ‘Yes. I’ve just seen it there.’

  ‘So, it’s not a figment of her imagination.’

  ‘No.’

  Fitzjohn glanced at Sergeant Betts. ‘Very well. We’ll go and speak to Dr Harrow. Perhaps you can accompany us.’

  ****

  James knocked again on Tristan’s door. He found him still in the darkened room. ‘Tristan, Detective Chief Inspector Fitzjohn’s here to see you.’ Fitzjohn and his Sergeant walked in the room. Tristan brushed down his jumper as he got to his feet.

  ‘Dr Harrow, we'd like to speak to you.’

  ‘Yes, Chief Inspector. James said you’d be along.’

  ‘So you know why we’re here.’

  ‘About this torque, Vera Trenbath found in my desk? Yes.’

  ‘You admit, then, that you have this artefact in your possession?’

  ‘Yes, I do, but I didn’t put it there and I have no idea where it came from.’

  ‘Perhaps you can show it to us, Doctor.’

  ‘It’s over here.’ Tristan walked to his desk and opened the drawer again. Fitzjohn and Betts followed.

  ‘Can we have a bit more light, Dr Harrow?’ Tristan turned and opened the curtains, letting a flood of light fall across the desk and into the drawer. Fitzjohn removed his glasses and peered inside. After a moment, he straightened up.

  ‘Get forensics to come in, Betts.’ Fitzjohn turned to Tristan. ‘Dr Harrow I’d like you to come down to the station this afternoon to make an official statement and to have your fingerprints taken.’

  Tristan gaped at Fitzjohn. ‘I beg your pardon? That’s preposterous. I had no idea this torque was in here. I can’t be fingerprinted like a common criminal.’

  ‘Even so, Dr Harrow, it is necessary. We need to be able to eliminate your prints from any others we may find on the torque.’ Fitzjohn started to move toward the door.

  ‘But I haven’t touched the damned thing.’

  Fitzjohn's left eyebrow rose. ‘Dr Harrow, I’m conducting a murder investigation and this object, found in your desk, may well have a connection to that murder. Therefore, these procedures have to be followed.’

  Fitzjohn glanced at James as he continued to the door. ‘Dr Wearing, I’d like a word with you in your office.’ James followed Fitzjohn out of the room.

  ‘Dr Harrow doesn’t look well,’ said Fitzjohn as they walked along the corridor.

  ‘He’s not. His wife asked him for a divorce about an hour ago.’

  A look of shock came over Fitzjohn’s face. ‘I see. I dare say this business hasn’t helped matters, then.’

  ‘No, the thought of being fingerprinted wouldn’t sit well with Tristan in the best of situations, let alone at this time.’

  When they reached his office, James unlocked the door. ‘I do have a concern, Chief Inspector.’ Fitzjohn stepped inside.

  ‘Oh?’

  �
��I appreciate it’s not one of your priorities, but I’m worried about Alex’s reputation and that of the university if the media get word about the apparent theft of these artefacts.’ James perched himself on the front corner of his desk.

  ‘You’re right, it’s not one of my priorities. Finding your brother’s killer is.’ Fitzjohn paused. ‘Unfortunately, there’s always the possibility of such matters being leaked to the press. All I can say is that we do endeavour to keep details of our investigations confidential. It’s in police interest too, of course. I’m afraid that’s all the assurance I can offer.’

  James nodded.

  ‘Now, there is some news I need to convey to you before I go,' Fitzjohn continued. 'The coroner has released your brother’s body for burial, so you’re at liberty to make the necessary arrangements. I did inform Mrs Wearing earlier this morning.’

  CHAPTER 10

  James scanned the arrivals monitor for his parents' flight as he waited at the barrier and pondered what to tell them of the events of the last few days. He saw his mother first as she came through the glass doors, her strength and resilience not obvious beneath a diminutive frame. With his years spent away at boarding school, there had always been a polite decorum between them, but even so, when she reached him, James put his arms around his mother and kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘James, I’m glad we’re here. It’s been a good journey but tiring, hasn’t it, dear?’ His mother glanced down at her husband, who was in a wheelchair being pushed by an airport attendant. She turned back to James, her eyebrows raised. ‘Your father’s cross about the wheelchair. The cabin crew insisted he disembark in one.’

  ‘I didn’t need this contraption, Em.’ Harold Wearing got to his feet and turned to the attendant. ‘You can take this thing away now.’

  Reminded of his father’s brusque manner, James turned to him and felt again the distance that had always existed between them. ‘Dad, I’m glad you’re here.’

  ‘Good to see you, son.’ Harold Wearing took James’s outstretched hand.

  ‘Why not keep the wheelchair for the time being, Dad, until we’ve retrieved your bags? There’ll be a crowd in the baggage claim area and nowhere to sit down.’