Page 29 of A Translation of Desire
“Have you been approached about your key? Or has anyone tried to break into the London Society of Antiquaries?”
A bark of laughter escaped Hawley. “We have exceptional security. It would be a foolhardy venture if someone were to try.”
Augustus nodded, but as he studied Hawley, he suspected there was something the scholar wasn’t telling him. “What am I missing?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Hawley stated.
“I’m not a fool. My business provides me with a unique perspective on the selling of antiquities and collectibles. Most thieves who steal antiquities are not interested in heavy pieces of stone with ancient text that only two people know how to decipher. What is going on?”
Hawley shrugged. “Perhaps the talk at Seely House increased interest?”
“I think you are being evasive.”
He and Hawley stared at one another silently. Finally, his host stood and poured them a brandy. He handed a glass to Augustus and then sat back in his chair.
“I was approached by officials from the British Secret Service, who mentioned that nefarious actors may be interested in deciphering the ancient text.”
The British Secret Service was an organization everyone seemed to know existed, but no one knew who worked for it or what they did. They existed in the grey world of international politics and intrigue. Augustus blinked at him multiple times, surprised. “Why do they believe that?”
Hawley shrugged. “I’m not at liberty to share the reason. They just told me to be careful. At the time, I wasn’t aware of anyone else who could translate the text, but then Mis Calvert gave her talk.”
“Is she in danger?”
Hawley lifted a brow. “My wife?”
“No, Rose Calvert.”
Hawley took a sip of his drink and said, “Even though the government warned me of a potential threat, they believe the theft at Seely House is not associated.”
“Do you believe that?” Augustus asked.
Hawley frowned. “I’m not sure.”
“You need to tell your wife and her club.”
Leaning forward, Hawley said, “I have been sworn to secrecy. My contacts said it is a matter of national security. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
Augustus gave him a pointed look. “They could be in real danger.”
“I’ve requested that the British Secret Service investigate it further so I can assure the safety of all the Historical Society for Female Curators board members.”
“Again, why not tell your wife’s club that you’ve heard about the missing tablets and want to assist?” Augustus pointed out.
“If I were to step in and try to help Lady Hawley, she would immediately become curious about why I know anything about it at all. I will not disclose that the government is interested in cuneiform text. I’m hoping that by making you aware, while you assist them, it will help me keep an eye on the issue. My connections believe the theft isn’t connected, but they are not as close to the ladies as you are.”
A scowl filled Augustus’s face. “I won’t spy on your wife for you.”
Hawley shook his head. “Of course not. I’m not asking that, but if something else happens, I would be much obliged if you could share that with me. I can then notify my contacts, and they can step in. Again, the crime was likely committed by everyday thieves. Nothing points to anything bigger than that.”
“Is Mr. Abbas associated with the British Secret Service?”
Hawley’s brows drew together. “The solicitor you mentioned?”
Augustus nodded. “He fled his lodging, and I haven’t been able to locate him since.”
The scholar scribbled notes down on a piece of paper and said, “Not that I know of, but I will alert my contacts.”
“I have your word that you will notify me immediately if this is somehow connected to your national security matter.”
