Page 17 of Skullduggery
‘I have a great photo of Hugs with two fat hens perched on his head,’ Becky said.
He looked exasperated but Rizwan was more amused than ever. ‘It certainly made an interesting fashion statement.’
I sat up straighter. ‘I’d like to see that photo.’
‘Perhaps,’ Hugo said drily, ‘we should focus on the hunt?’
Miriam nodded. ‘You’re right, dear. A bird in the hand is better than two on your head.’
There was a ripple of laughter and I felt myself relax. The mood was good humoured, none of the Primes were upset that we were helping Gordon, and even Hugo seemed at ease with the idea. That was progress indeed.
Mark flipped open the folder and scanned the contents. I’d already read through them and I knew they didn’t hold much information. Most of it made little sense to me, but I was confident that the Primes’ combined knowledge and experience would shed light on where we should start to hunt for the skull.
‘Hmm.’ His fingers raked across the stubble on his chin, then he stood up, walked to the whiteboard and wrote down the key points. ‘According to this, the skull is made of gold, is about three-inches high, and was last seen sometime in the seventeenth century when it was uncovered together with a hoard of Roman coins in Lincolnshire.’
‘Who uncovered it?’ Miriam asked.
‘A local farmer. There’s no reference to what happened to the skull after that, but the coins and the chest that contained them are on display in Doncaster Museum.’
‘Do we have any contacts there?’ Slim asked.
Hugo shook his head. ‘No.’ There was a familiar gleam in his eyes; regardless of the motives behind this treasure hunt, the thrill of the chase was affecting him. ‘But we have a place to start.’ He looked at me and smiled. ‘Let’s saddle up.’
Giventhe scanty information that Gordon had provided, half the team remained behind to see what else they could discover while the rest of us packed overnight bags and set off in convoy for the museum in Doncaster.
Hugo, Hester, Otis and I took the first car; Miriam, Slim and Becky took the second. We drove fast, keen to reach ourdestination before it closed for the day. Fortunately the roads were clear, so we pulled into the car park with twenty minutes to spare.
We’d informed Agatha Smiggleswith, the museum director, of our impending arrival and she was there to meet us at the entrance. To my surprise, she was a bogle. I had to bite my tongue to resist the urge to ask her if she knew my drug dealer, Arbuthnot. The bogle community was a small one, and not many of them chose to abandon a rural life for one amongst humans, elves and other such beings, so it was possible that she’d heard of him – though I doubted that mentioning him would be wise. Her job title suggested that she wasn’t like other bogles; in this instance, silence would be golden.
‘Hugo Pemberville.’ She smiled in a business-like fashion and extended her hand. ‘It truly is an honour to have you visit our small establishment.’
‘Thank you for being here to greet us,’ he responded in kind. ‘I hope that our visit won’t cause too much disturbance.’
‘Not at all! We’re thrilled to have you.’ From her expression, she meant every word. Hugo was something of a cause célèbre both within and outside the archaeology and treasure-hunting world. The fact that so many people admired him would probably boost the museum’s visitor numbers; if the wonderful Hugo Pemberville thought Doncaster Museum was worth a visit, many others would follow suit.
No doubt, Ms Smiggleswith would make time to take several photos of Hugo to display around the museum. That’s what I’d have done if I’d been in her shoes.
‘We have many Roman artefacts,’ she said. ‘There are several Roman forts in the area. We’re particularly proud of the Danum shield, which was recovered in 1971 and has been dated to the late first century AD. But I believe it’s the small cache of coins found near Caistor that has piqued your interest?’
‘You believe correctly.’
‘I’m afraid they’re not particularly unusual or valuable. It’s quite common to find hoards such as this one.’ She eyed him. ‘But you’ll know that already.’
‘To be honest,’ Hugo said, ‘every discovery and every hoard is amazing to me.’
Her eyes twinkled. ‘In that case, I’ll take you right to it. Follow me.’
We trailed after her. I let the others take the lead so I had a moment to fumble in my pocket for a surreptitious dose of spider’s silk. My mouth was as dry as sandpaper and I could already feel the familiar heart palpitations; I had to keep my body under control and feed the beast inside.
I swallowed the pill dry and shuddered before wiping the sweat from my brow and blinking rapidly to try and clear my blurred vision. Bright colours flared across my eyes. I gulped until my body righted itself and I could look around the museum like a normal visitor.
I spotted a large display board with pictures of Roman artefacts drawn by local children, a plea for people who could tell interesting stories to join the museum team, and an advertisement for a presentation by a local historian. There was an impressive number of intriguing exhibits but I resisted the temptation to browse and caught up with the others before they reached the glass cabinet we wanted.
Ms Smiggleswith’s attention remained wholly on Hugo, which suited me because it meant I could examine the coins and their original chest without interruption. Smooth-talking suited Hugo but it wasn’t my forte. Miriam, Becky, Slim and Hester also paid little attention to what the museum director was saying. Otis, however, hovered by Hugo’s shoulder and appeared to be listening intently to every word.
I leaned over the glass cabinet and peered at the coins. I could see why Ms Smiggleswith wasn’t particularly excited by them; there were thirteen in total, and they’d all been damaged by the elements, so it was difficult to decipher their marks or their original values. In comparison to other hoards this was small and unremarkable; even so, I felt a delicious thrill when I looked at it. Historical artefacts had that effect on me. There again, so did Hugo.
I switched my attention from the coins to the small wooden chest they’d been found in. It was also in a bad condition, although I could see the ancient, rusted hinges and several marks etched into it.
