As the Crow Flies - Page 157

“No, he seemed to have one of his own.”

“Did he now?” said Becky as she rechecked the catalogue photo.

“And I wasn’t around when you came back from the board meeting because when he left the gallery I decided to follow him.”

“Quick thinking,” said Becky, smiling. “And where did our mystery man disappear to?”

“Ended up in Chester Square,” said Cathy. “A large house halfway down on the right-hand side. He dropped a package through the letter box but didn’t go in.”

“Number 19?”

“That’s right,” said Cathy, looking surprised. “Do you know the house?”

“Only from the outside,” said Becky without explanation.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Yes, there is. To start with, can you remember anything about the customer who brought that particular lot in for sale?”

“Certainly can,” replied Cathy, “because I was called to the front desk to deal with the lady.” She paused for a moment before adding, “Can’t remember her name but she was elderly and rather—genteel is the way I think you would describe her.” Cathy hesitated then continued. “As I remember, she had taken a day trip down from Nottingham. She told me that she’d been left the tea set by her mother. She didn’t want to sell a family heirloom but ‘needs must.’ I remember that expression, because I’d never heard it before.”

“And what was Mr. Fellowes’ opinion when you showed him the set?”

“As fine an example of the period as he’d seen come under the hammer—each piece is still in almost mint condition. Peter’s convinced the lot will fetch a good price, as you can see from his estimate.”

“Then we’d better call in the police straight away,” said Becky. “We don’t need our mystery man standing up again announcing that this particular item has been stolen too.”

She picked up the telephone on her desk and asked to be put through to Scotland Yard. A few moments later an Inspector Deakins of the CID came on the line and, having listened to the details of what had taken place that morning, agreed to come round to the gallery during the afternoon.

The inspector arrived a little after three, accompanied by a sergeant. Becky took them both straight through to meet the head of the department. Peter Fellowes pointed to a minute scratch he had come across on a silver salver. Becky frowned. He stopped what he was doing and walked over to the center table where the four-piece tea set was already out on display.

“Beautiful,” said the inspector as he bent over and checked the hallmark. “Birmingham around 1820 would be my guess.”

Becky raised an eyebrow.

“It’s my hobby,” the inspector explained. “That’s probably why I always end up getting these jobs.” He removed a file from the briefcase he was carrying and checked through several photographs along with detailed written descriptions of recently missing pieces of silverware from the London area. An hour later he had to agree with Fellowes: none of them fitted the description of the Georgian tea set.

“Well, we’ve had nothing else reported as stolen that matches up with this particular lot,” he admitted. “And you’ve polished them so superbly,” he said, turning to Cathy, “that there’s no hope of our identifying any prints.”

“Sorry,” said Cathy, blushing slightly.

“No, miss, it’s not your fault, you’ve done a fine job. I only wish my little pieces looked so good. Still, I’d better check with the Nottingham police in case they have something on their files. If they haven’t, I’ll issue a description to all forces throughout the United Kingdom, just in case. And I’ll also ask them to check on Mrs…?”

“Dawson,” said Cathy.

 

; “Yes, Mrs. Dawson. That may take a little time, of course, but I’ll come back to you the moment I hear anything.”

“Meanwhile our sale takes place three weeks next Tuesday,” Becky reminded the inspector.

“Right, I’ll try and give you the all-clear by then,” he promised.

“Should we leave that page in the catalogue, or would you prefer the pieces to be withdrawn?” asked Cathy.

“Oh, no, don’t withdraw anything. Please leave the catalogue exactly as it is. You see, someone might recognize the set and then get in touch with us.”

Someone has already recognized the set, thought Becky.

Tags: Jeffrey Archer Thriller
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