Golden Relic. Lindy Cameron

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СКАЧАТЬ so I did some checking – internationally.’

      ‘And?’ Bailey demanded impatiently.

      ‘A sudden, and unexplained, influx of cocaine has coincided with a visit from this Life and Death show in Paris, London, Anchorage, San Francisco and now Melbourne.’

      ‘I knew it!’ Sam exclaimed.

      ‘That doesn’t mean diddly,’ Bailey said.

      ‘We’re not going to ignore this are we?’ Ben argued.

      ‘No. But what we are going to do, is exercise a little discretion. Do you actually have a suspect Sam, or does your hunch involve everyone at the Museum?’

      Sam ignored the patronising tone. ‘The show’s manager, or logistical expert, apparently engages in extra-curricular business in every city they visit. According to the exhibition curator, Enrico Vasquez, Andrew Barstoc is a businessman – and his business is private.’

      ‘Barstoc?’ Ben interjected. ‘He was the one the boss cocky was venting his anger at.’

      ‘Dr Bridger was angry with Andrew Barstoc?’ Sam asked.

      ‘Yeah.’

      ‘Elaborate, Muldoon.’

      ‘The Customs guys moved the crates into a small warehouse so we could go over them. This Dr Bridger was irate but, given the circumstances, he was reasonably cooperative. We told him it was a routine search, by the way. So he asked to oversee the unpacking, and insisted on attending to some items himself. He was afraid we’d break his precious phallic things. Anyway when the job was nearly done, this Barstoc bloke turns up. I honestly thought the good doctor was going to deck him. He shoved him against a wall and got right in his face about something. I couldn’t hear what it was, but he was mighty pissed off.’

      ‘And you think Barstoc killed the Professor,’ Bailey addressed Sam.

      She shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know, Boss. I had a hunch about the drugs – which may still prove correct. Because if there was cocaine in that first shipment of artefacts, and if Professor Marsden found out about it, then it stands to reason that he was murdered because of it. In that case Andrew Barstoc would be my prime suspect. Jack Rigby, on the other hand, thinks it was the workplace equivalent of a domestic argument.’

      ‘Ah, a voice of reason surrounded by conspiracy theories,’ Bailey remarked.

      ‘You may be right,’ Sam agreed. ‘But that wouldn’t explain why Marsden’s house was searched by someone who didn’t care about cleaning up afterwards.’

      ‘What was the cause of death?’

      ‘We’re waiting for the autopsy results, but Ian Baird thinks he was poisoned. He was also bashed but Baird found puncture marks and traces of a sticky blue residue on the face.’

      ‘That’s a bit Agatha Christie isn’t it?’ Bailey shook his head. ‘Do not let the press get hold of that detail, Sam.’

      ‘What do we do now?’ Ben asked.

      ‘Now? You can look into this cocaine coincidence Muldoon. You may have two squad members to keep Barstoc, and only Barstoc, under surveillance. There will be no more raids, in fact no contact of any kind with the alleged suspect unless you observe him red-handed with the goods. You got that?’

      ‘Yes Boss.’

      ‘And you, Sam, stay away from the drugs angle. You get any more wild hunches, you run them by me first. Understood? Your assignment is to continue the joint murder investigation with Rigby; but your priority, as far as Cultural Affairs go, is to contain this incident. Damage control, okay? Keep that Museum boffin happy and off the phone to the Minister. Discourage this delusion about a conspiracy to wreck his conference, or the silly bastard will discover that publicly voicing his own paranoia will have the same effect.’

      Sam returned to her desk, checked the business card Ellington had given her and dialled the number for James T. Hudson, of Hudson & Bolt. She was put through immediately but Mr Hudson, citing client confidentiality, asked if he could ring her back – to ensure that he was, in fact, speaking to someone from the ACB. Her phone rang a few minutes later.

      ‘I apologise for the runaround, Detective Diamond, but please understand you could have been anybody. The press, for instance.’

      ‘The press? Are you expecting them to call in regard to Professor Marsden?’

      ‘Not particularly. But you never know what prompts them to do the things they do.’

      ‘I guess not,’ Sam said. ‘Robert Ellington said the Professor asked him to contact you immediately should anything ever happen to him. Obviously, unless it has a bearing on the case, you’re not required to divulge the details of his will but can you explain the urgency?’

      ‘No,’ Hudson said.

      ‘You are aware this is a murder investigation?’

      ‘Perfectly aware, Detective. I am not being difficult, I simply cannot answer your question. This has nothing to do with Lloyd’s will, it was a separate matter. He came to see me last Thursday and entrusted me with a package that was to be delivered immediately to a certain person should anything ever happen to him. They were his words, and it seems he used the very same with Mr Ellington, but he did not explain the urgency.’

      ‘Do you know what was in the package?’

      ‘No. But I suppose I can tell you that it is currently with a colleague who is waiting to deliver it personally, as per Lloyd’s instructions, to a Dr Maggie Tremaine at Sydney University. Perhaps she will be in a position to help – if it is relevant to your investigation.’

      What’s with this Maggie Tremaine popping up all over the place, Sam wondered as she ended the call and sat back in her chair. Her phone rang again, this time it was Rigby.

      ‘You’re not going to believe this,’ he said.

      ‘Jack, I think I’m ready to believe anything.’

      ‘The cause of death was poison, but get this, Baird thinks the stuff was injected with one of those poison ring gadgets you see in spy films.’

      ‘You’re right, I don’t believe it.’

      ‘It’s fair dinkum. The doc says the tiny punctures are too wide and too shallow to have been caused by a syringe; and there was an oval mark around each of the holes in the cheek, the jaw and the jugular vein.’

      ‘The Boss just said this was very Agatha Christie.’

      ‘That ain’t the half of it. The poison was a mean and bizarre little cocktail of curare and peyote. Weird, huh?’ Rigby had a knack for understatement.

      ‘Peyote?’

      ‘Yeah, you know mescal, peyote. Indians use it for their vision quest things.’

      ‘I know what it is, Jack. It’s an hallucinogen. You can remind me about curare though. What does it do exactly?’

      ‘Used СКАЧАТЬ