Page 15 of Murder at the Ponte Vecchio

‘And is that what you do now?’

‘No, I don’t cut any more; I trade in gold and precious stones nowadays.’

‘And David Berg has been one of your trading partners? Did you come here often to visit him?’

‘Not often. In fact, I haven’t been to Florence for quite a few years. He used to come to the Netherlands quite frequently, so there was no need.’

‘Were you buying or was he?’

‘In this case, I was.’ He could see that I wanted more so, grudgingly, he elaborated. ‘I live and work in Antwerp. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the city, but it’s the main European hub for the trade in precious stones and gold. I buy and sell gold and jewels. Berg bought from me, I bought from him, and we then sold to traders and retailers all over Europe.’

‘So you’re both wholesalers?’

He nodded.

‘And, in consequence, I imagine you deal in pretty largesums.’ I caught his eye. ‘I can see why you’re so keen to get your property back. Was it gold that you were buying?’

‘Something like that.’ He sounded non-committal.

‘Then surely you should go to the police. If they haven’t already done so, I’m sure they’ll have access to the victim’s accounts and whatever he kept in his safe. They should be able to identify your property and let you have it back.’

The Dutchman’s expression became more guarded. ‘The fact is that I’m quite sure Berg wouldn’t have wanted the police to look into his accounts and the same applies to me. He and I had what you might call a gentleman’s agreement and not everything was written down, if you understand me.’

I certainly did – but to what extent either Berg or Jacobs qualified as gentlemen was another matter. ‘I can see that you might have a problem. Your property may turn out to be in Berg’s safe, but without any paperwork to support your claim, you’ll struggle to prove that you’ve paid for it and it’s yours. Give me a rough idea of value. Are we talking thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of euros?’

His eyes flicked nervously towards the door. Seeing it still firmly closed, he took heart and looked back at me. ‘Roughly three hundred thousand euros.’ His expression hardened again. ‘But that information stays between the two of us, right?’

I mulled this over for a few moments. ‘So what exactly would you like me to do, Mr Jacobs? You asked me if I could investigate a suspicious death. Are you afraid that Berg was murdered by a thief who took your property?’

‘The shop’s closed and there’s police tape across the door. I assume that’s where it happened, so robbery strikes me as a logical assumption.’

I didn’t tell him that this was the conclusion to which Marco and I had already come. There was no need for Jacobs to knowthat I was already closely involved in the investigation. ‘You said Berg was going to give you your property on Friday night. Do you think he was keeping it in his shop? I imagine there’s a safe there.’ I already knew that there was one, but Marco had told me that Forensics had found little of great value inside it. No wonder Berg had kept his more valuable items in the serious safe back home. ‘That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?’ He nodded so I went on. ‘If your property has been stolen, that means you could be three hundred thousand euros worse off. Were you insured?’

He gave me what my gran would have described as an old-fashioned look. ‘This particular consignment wasn’t insured because it never existed, if you see what I mean. And as for being worse off, I stand to lose not only the contents of the cigar box but also the payment I have already made.’

I saw quite clearly. This had been an undercover transaction, no doubt unbeknown to the taxman. Of course, I was no longer in the police so I let the implications of this slide. ‘Have you any idea who might be responsible, either for the robbery, or Berg’s murder, or both? Presumably very few people knew about this business transaction.’

‘Nobodyknew about this transaction.’ He thumped his fist on the desk unexpectedly hard, enough to make Oscar open his eyes and look up with a mildly miffed expression at the disturbance to his beauty sleep. ‘It must have been an opportunist thief.’

‘If that’s the case, I’m afraid it’s going to be hard for me or the police to discover the identity of the perpetrator. Are you sure there wasn’t somebody, anybody, who knew about your transaction?’ Seeing him shake his head, I asked another question. ‘Can you tell me how come you were prepared to leave Mr Berg with your cigar box and your three hundred thousand euros? That seems very trusting of you.’

He smiled back at me – although the smile was closer to agrimace. ‘I don’t trust many people but, like I told you, David Berg and I go way back. I brought him payment on Thursday, took a look at the goods, and then asked him to keep everything in his safe while I spent Friday wandering around Florence. We’ve done it before and there’s never been any bother.’

‘How did you make the payment? Was it a cheque or draft that had to clear, or did you bring cash?’ For what sounded like a dodgy deal, it occurred to me that it had most probably been cash, but I turned out to be wrong.

‘Not exactly.’

‘Not cash? It sounds as though you aren’t talking about money. What did you give him as payment for the contents of the cigar box?’

He sighed. ‘I can’t see that it’s any business of yours but, if you must know, I paid him in gold bullion.’

‘I see.’ I didn’t know what else to say. This meant that Jacobs had travelled to Florence carrying three hundred thousand euros in gold bullion – uninsured gold bullion. He was either a very brave or a very foolhardy man – and he looked far from foolhardy.

‘How long are you planning on staying in Florence?’

‘I was going to leave on Saturday, but now I’ll stay for as long as it takes.’ He gave me a long, appraising look. ‘I’ll make a deal with you, Mr Armstrong: if you can get me my gold or my goods back without the police being involved, I’ll pay you 10 per cent as a finder’s fee; that’s thirty thousand euros. I can’t say fairer than that, can I?’

I had to agree. ‘That seems fair.’ Although 10 percent of the profits of a dodgy deal didn’t really sit well with me after a lifetime of enforcing the law. I told myself that I would have time to wrestle with my conscience if the money ever materialised – andmy feeling was that Jacobs was going to struggle to get his hands on his property again.

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