Page 24 of The Trick of the Treasure
“In places. Though I admit I was getting a bit fed up with hiking across the dullest of little islands under the blazing sun, when we finally found what we were looking for.”
“How did you know where to look? Was it mere chance?”
“Lord, no. Papa had an actual map—though it helpfully omitted any names or compass bearings. He got it from some old sea dog—I think he’d sailed with Papa on earlier expeditions until he got too ill. Papa looked after him a bit, and in gratitude the old fellow gave him his treasure map. Anyone else would have said a polite thank you very much and burned it with the rubbish, but not my father. He believed him, and as it turned out, he was right.”
“It must have been very exciting.”
“It was certainly funny,” Sydney said. “I had to eat my own words of doubt, which had become increasingly loud over the preceding week, and for once I was more than glad to.”
“I suppose you were owed a share of the treasure?”
“I was,” Sydney said fervently, “and I don’t mind telling you it would have been damned useful.”
“May I ask what you meant to spend it on?”
“Wine, women, and song, of course. Preferably without the song. Either that or to set up in photography. I believe that will be a valuable business investment. Such a useful science, and artistic in its own right.”
“Really?” Solomon said. The various processes he had come across were clever, but he had never thought the end results either artistic or useful. Stern portraits without character or spontaneity, landscapes without color. “Perhaps I should look further into the matter.”
“Get my father to show you his photographs from the expedition. They were delivered last night.”
“I will,” Solomon said. “Do they show the treasure?”
“They do. Well, just the chest in most, but there are a couple with it open, where you get a pretty good view of the contents.”
“Your little sister seemed very disappointed that she never saw the actual treasure.”
Sydney smiled wryly. “Papa’s little joke. Not that it makes any real difference who saw it.”
So Rachel had told the truth. “I had the impression before today that you had all seen it.”
Sydney’s eyes slid away to the window. “Oh well, we none of us like to spread about Papa’s less successful jokes. Some of them can seem almost cruel to strangers. Papa does not mean them that way, of course. He’s just teasing and thinks everyone is as entertained as he is.”
“Were you?”
“Not really. Mama and the girls would have loved to see it. I do hope you get it back for us.”
“So do I. Do you or your father have any enemies, any ill wishers who might have stooped to robbery?”
Sydney rubbed distractedly at the side of his nose. “Not unless his seamen decided they deserved more pay. Or there’s Terrance, I suppose.”
“Who is Terrance?”
Sydney grimaced. “Mark Terrance. Boring, ill-natured old duffer who fancies himself as a collector of valuable antiquities. He rants against my father’s knowledge whenever anyone will listen—mostly because Papa refused to bid at auction for some vase or other than Terrance paid a fortune for. It turned out to be fake, and Terrance insisted my father knew and kept quiet deliberately.”
Sydney stretched out his legs and yawned. “Which he might have, to be fair, but it’s hardly Papa’s fault Terrance was gammoned. Anyway, I don’t see how either disgruntled seamen or Terrance could have got into the house, let alone opened the strong room.”
“Was Mr. Terrance a frequent visitor to the house?”
“Lord, no, shouldn’t think so. Not after the vase incident, anyway. A couple of years ago, that was. I do remember his popping up here occasionally before that. You should ask my mother.”
“I will,” Solomon assured him. “I believe Benjamin Devine is a friend of yours?”
A hint of amusement crept into Sydney’s eyes, though he kept his face straight. “So far.”
“Meaning your father might banish him for his interest in your sister?”
“Be fair, sir. Jemimah’s only sixteen years old.”
