Deadly Treasures. Vivian Conroy
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Название: Deadly Treasures

Автор: Vivian Conroy

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия:

isbn: 9780008205188

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ quickly to make out what they were. In the distance a tall round tower stood outlined against the blue skies. It was much larger and plumper than a church tower. It had to be the remainder of the old Black Castle, after which the village took its name.

      The sun beating down from the cloudless sky above outlined everything in stark bright lines as if drawn by an exquisite artist.

      Alkmene breathed and tasted the freedom she had often wished for in the past. With a smile she sat up straighter and looked to her left where she could just discern an area that had been fenced off. Rough wooden fences were used, also wicker ones, and even string, running from one wooden pole inserted into the earth to another. She assumed that was the excavation site. There also was a simple wooden construction that was probably a tool shed or something.

      The driver slowed down and turned the car left into a dirt track that led straight to the excavation site. It was full of potholes that shook the car and reverberated in Alkmene’s back and neck.

      But she barely noticed, staring intently ahead. The wall of the tool shed that was directly opposite her now had been painted white, but the coat of paint wasn’t even. Some parts lay deeper.

      Like there had been carving in the wall that the paint had been intended to cover up.

      Letters. G-e-t…

      O-u…

      Get out?

      It sounded much like a threat.

      ‘There they are,’ the driver said, and Alkmene followed his nod. A group of people had gathered to their right. Workers in overalls with leather kneecaps, a man in a sharp suit… Had they gathered because some exciting find had been made? She would be lucky to arrive at some high point in the excavation’s proceedings. Duncan would be pleased and not suspicious to see her, and she could immediately join in the group sensation, without being stared at for being both a woman and a non-specialist in this field.

      The driver braked. Alkmene did not wait for him to get out and open her door for her, but opened it herself and climbed out. In preparation of the conditions on site she had put on a tweed skirt under a sturdy jacket and some decent shoes that would do for walking, climbing and the like.

      The wind coming across the hilly land grabbed at her hair as she marched up to the excited group. The well-dressed man in the suit turned to her with a frown as if he was not sure what she was doing there.

      Past him she spotted two uniformed policemen, each holding an arm of…

      ‘Duncan!’ Alkmene cried.

      Duncan Woolsbury had not changed much since she had last seen him. He had always been tall for his age and sturdily built, with broad shoulders. He had a real barrel chest now and his bare arms were covered with muscle cords. His reddish hair shone in the sunshine like fire. He pulled himself free from the policemen’s hold, exclaiming, ‘I will not flee.’

      Apparently his short words made an impression for they did not take hold of him again.

      Duncan stepped forward to Alkmene and said, ‘This is not a very good time for a visit, I’m afraid.’ He scanned her from top to bottom. ‘You’ve come on behalf of my father? To talk some sense into me?’

      Alkmene felt a fiery flush come up. She hadn’t expected Duncan to be quite so forthright. In the presence of others at that! ‘Your father did mention to me you were here now and doing interesting work.’

      ‘My father doesn’t find my work interesting, or worthwhile. He wants me to give it up and come back home. Has he sent you to tell me that?’

      Alkmene pulled back her shoulders. ‘You should know better than to believe I would be sent on such a mission.’

      A smile jerked up the corners of his mouth. ‘Or any mission at all. Alkmene only does what Alkmene wants, right?’ That irked her a little, but it was true.

      Duncan’s smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, and he said, ‘I’m not sure what you want here, Alkmene, but I’m afraid I can’t be your host and show you around. I have to go with these gentlemen to the police station.’

      ‘How come? Has something happened?’

      Duncan sighed. ‘I have to give a statement in an accidental death that happened on my site.’

      One of the policemen, older than the other, with the deep-set eyes of a melancholy basset hound, said, ‘Excuse me, sir, but the death was hardly accidental. The victim’s skull was fractured with a hammer. Your hammer.’

      Alkmene winced.

      Duncan said quickly, ‘In any case I have to explain what happened. I don’t have time to show you around now. Perhaps you had better go back to the village.’ He gestured to Kramer, who was waiting nearby.

      ‘She can stay.’ The good-looking man in the suit nodded at her. ‘I can show you around. Simon Peartree, at your service.’

      Duncan said, ‘That won’t be necessary. I can do it myself.’ His tone was curt, and the look he threw Peartree almost vicious. He added, ‘I hope to be back in time for dinner. We have some catching up to do.’

      The older policeman gestured to the car that was waiting at the back of the shed, mostly out of sight, so Alkmene had not noticed it until now. She watched with a frown as Duncan followed both men and was put in the back. Although they had not cuffed him, this still felt like…an arrest. If Duncan was merely wanted for a statement, why had they not asked him to stop by? Why had they been holding him by the arms?

      Taking him in, publicly, amid all of his workers, was almost like a deliberate humiliation. Had Duncan acted rudely before, refusing to come to the station of his own accord because he was busy with some excavation details?

      Duncan could be obsessed with his own little things, paying no heed to another’s wishes. And if those wishes happened to be those of the local authorities, he might have ticked off a few people who had decided to show him who was in charge in this area.

      Beside her Simon Peartree said, ‘Forgive me for not knowing your name.’

      Alkmene smiled at him. ‘Alkmene Callender. I practically grew up with Duncan. My father was away a lot, and I was shipped off for the summer to the Woolsbury country estate. Alberley. Perhaps you know it?’

      He shook his head. ‘I've never been invited there.’ There was a slight stress on ‘invited’ and a tightness around his mouth.

      Alkmene hurried to say, ‘Well, anyway, I had a fabulous time there. Ever since Duncan became engrossed in the whole archaeology thing, I’ve seen so little of him; so when his father told me he was in Cornwall now, it seemed like the best of chances to catch up. Closer than Egypt, you know.’

      Simon Peartree laughed, erasing the tension in his handsome features. ‘Indeed it is. Well, I could show you around. I know all the ins and outs, have been here for weeks now, helping out. But apparently Duncan wants to do it himself as soon as he is back. So I suggest I put the workers to work first and then offer you some tea.’ He pointed to a picnic basket that was leaning against a half dug out wall. ‘It’s still warm, I hope.’

      He gestured to the men. ‘Spread out and resume working. There is nothing to see here any more.’

      He СКАЧАТЬ