Nothing Ventured

William’s hand began shaking so much he spilt some coffee on the carpet. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘How clumsy of me.’

‘Don’t worry, Mr Warwick, it’s not important.’

If you only knew how important it is, thought William, his mind still racing with the implications of what she’d just revealed.

‘Can I tempt you to stay for lunch?’ asked Mrs Faulkner. ‘It would give me a chance to show you the rest of the collection.’

‘That’s kind of you, but my boss will be wondering where I am. So I ought to be getting back.’

‘Another time, perhaps.’

William nodded nervously, as Mrs Faulkner accompanied him back into the hall, to find the butler standing by the front door.

‘It was nice to meet you, Mr Warwick,’ she said as they shook hands.

‘You too, Mrs Faulkner,’ said William, aware that the butler was watching him closely.

William couldn’t wait to get back to the Yard and let the team know that Mrs Faulkner had accidentally let slip that the original of The Syndics was hanging in Faulkner’s villa in Monte Carlo. He could already see Beth jumping up and down with joy when he told her the news. But as the gates closed behind him, he put his head in his hands and shouted, ‘You’re an idiot!’ Why hadn’t he accepted her invitation to lunch? He could have seen the entire collection and possibly identified other paintings that were unaccounted for.

‘Idiot!’ he repeated even louder. Perhaps he wouldn’t mention the missed opportunity to Lamont when he wrote his report.

William reluctantly left Limpton Hall, but not before repeating the word ‘idiot’ several more times before he reached the motorway.

On his arrival back at the Yard, he parked the van, returned the keys and went straight up to the office. He found Lamont and Jackie poring over a map covered in little red flags, as they put the finishing touches to Operation Blue Period, which he knew was planned for the following evening. They both looked up as he entered the room.

‘Did you get past the front gates?’ asked Lamont.

‘I not only got past the front gates, I can tell you where the Rembrandt is.’

The little red flags were abandoned while Lamont and Jackie listened to William’s report. After he had fully briefed them – well, almost fully – all Lamont had to say was, ‘We should inform the commander immediately.’

As William and Jackie assumed he wasn’t using the royal ‘We’, they followed him out of the room and down the corridor to Hawksby’s office.

‘Angela, I need to see

the commander urgently,’ Lamont told Hawksby’s secretary as he entered the room.

‘Chief Inspector Mullins is with him at the moment,’ she said, ‘but I don’t expect them to be too much longer.’

‘Mullins?’ whispered William to Jackie.

‘Drugs. Pray you don’t get transferred to his section. Few survive, and the ones that do are never the same again.’

After a few more minutes the door opened and the chief inspector came out, accompanied by Commander Hawksby.

‘Good morning, Bruce,’ said Mullins, not breaking his stride as he left the room.

‘I hope you have some good news for me,’ said Hawksby. ‘Because so far, it’s been one lousy day.’

‘A possible breakthrough in the missing Rembrandt case, sir.’

‘Then you’d better come in.’

Once they had all settled around the table in Hawksby’s office, William went over his meeting with Mrs Faulkner in great detail. He was surprised by the Hawk’s immediate response.

‘I don’t think that “we have one just like it in our drawing room in Monte Carlo. In fact I can never tell the difference between the two” was a slip of the tongue. I think Mrs Faulkner knew exactly what she was telling the young detective she’d invited to join her for coffee.’

‘I agree,’ said Lamont. ‘And coupled with that, she asked for the name of a private detective who can be trusted. It’s no wonder the gates were opened.’