Page 48 of A Little Bit Dangerous
Jumping to her defence, Christian lied and said, “We suspect the treasures sold to the museum aren’t genuine. We’re concerned those sold to private collectors may be forgeries, too.”
The man shook his head in disbelief. “But they come with provenance. Clarke and Woodrow are experts in their field. There must be some mistake.”
“There’s no mistake,” Daventry said bluntly.
A tense silence ensued.
Oldman began pacing. “But I presented the gold mask to the King.”
“We need a detailed list of all items brought ashore, sir.” Isabella paused. “We need to know what you sold and to whom. It’s clear you funded the expedition to profit from the sale of the treasures.”
Oldman’s head shot up. “You make me sound like a criminal.”
Daventry raised a hand to bring an element of calm to the situation. “Miss Lawton is merely keen to protect your reputation. This is a murder enquiry. A woman found dead in the Thames warned the curator about the forged pieces. Which is why we need to confirm exactly what was in the eight crates.”
“Eight? Woodrow said there were four.”
So, Woodrow had spoken the truth.
What had Snell done with the other four crates?
“Snell brought eight ashore,” Daventry said.
Oldman pushed papers aside and perched on the edge of his desk. He scrubbed his face with his hands, his shoulders sagging. “Snell strikes me as the sort who’d smuggle the odd bit of contraband, but he hasn’t the intelligence or knowledge needed to fool the experts.”
Christian had to agree. “How many times have you hired Snell?”
“This is the fourth trip I’ve funded, but the first time I’ve agreed to let Woodrow and Clarke come along. I have archaeologists working permanently along the Nile. They catalogue their findings, and Snell ships the items home.”
Being astute, Miss Lawton asked the question burning in Christian’s mind. “Have you ever had reason to question the authenticity of the archaeological finds?”
“Never!”
“Lawton rarely travels abroad,” Christian said, his disdain for the man evident in his tone. But Lawton had gone missing for months on end. No one could confirm his whereabouts. “How did he come to work as the cartographer on this particular trip?”
Oldman gave a half-shrug. “I can’t recall if he approached me or I approached him. I believe he wanted to escape London for a time. You’ll need to speak to Woodrow.” He gestured to Isabella. “Or surely Miss Lawton can ask him.”
A light tap on the door brought the maid, a young slip of a girl with a pale face. After a clumsy curtsey, she asked if his lordship required refreshments.
“We’ll have tea,” the lord snapped. “Be quick about it, girl.”
Anger flashed in Isabella’s eyes as she watched the terrified maid scurry from the room. She turned to Lord Oldman and might have chastised him for his brusque manner had Daventry not intervened.
“We’re trying to find Mr Quigley. He acts as a broker. Does he work for you, the shipping office, or Captain Snell?”
“Quigley? Quigley works for himself. I met him in a tavern years ago. He heard me discussing my desire for Egyptian artefacts and knew of a captain willing to sail to the Orient. I pay him to deal with Snell.”
“Then you can tell us where to find him.”
Lord Oldman was quick to disappoint them. “My secretary Mr Myers deals with all financial matters. He’s in Bristol on business. I’ve not spoken to Quigley since that night in the tavern.”
“Can you give us a description?” Isabella asked.
Perhaps it was Christian’s imagination, but he sensed some hesitance before the lord said, “He was of average height and build. Perhaps thirty. But it was dark, and I’d consumed half a bottle of port.”
Christian suppressed a sigh of frustration.
This pompous oaf cared about nothing other than accumulating treasures. Like Lawton, he was obsessed with power and wealth and wanted to own things other men couldn’t. But his passion might be the bargaining chip they needed.
