‘I hadn’t thought as far as that,’ she said, quivering. ‘It simply seemed a possibility that he was somehow involved.’
‘That isn’t what I asked you.’
Now it was she who was invisibly smiling, oddly encouraged and reassured. ‘No,’ she said, ‘it isn’t what I think. I
‘It isn’t certain yet. We shall get the pathologist’s report tomorrow. But yes, I think he was.’
‘Not drowned, then?’
‘In confidence, though again we haven’t yet got the word officially—no, not drowned. I’m trusting you with some part of the background. I’m afraid you saw the beginning of it. This boy had found something very intriguing and exciting here at Aurae Phiala yesterday afternoon. I rather think he must just have picked it up when Mr Hambro chased him away from the cave-in. He didn’t dare attempt to go back again until the coast was clear, so he hid himself until everyone was gone. Not until dark, since his intention was to search that patch of ground thoroughly. But he may have waited until it began to be dusk. And someone—someone from close by, someone on or near this site—caught him in the act, and took drastic action. Whoever it was didn’t go through his pockets. His find was still there when they stripped him at the mortuary.’
In a whisper she asked: ‘What was it?’
‘A single gold coin. An aureus of Commodus—that’s round about the end of the second century AD.’
‘But you couldn’t,’ she said just audibly. ‘You couldn’t kill somebody for one gold coin. It isn’t possible!’
‘People have been killed for less, even taking it at its face value, though its actual value is very much greater. But no, he wasn’t killed for that, or it wouldn’t have been still on him. No, whoever caught him hunting for more knew that there was more there to be found—knew it because he himself had come out as soon as he dared, to remove whatever was there to a place of greater safety. Don’t forget the landslip had taken place only that morning, Orrie Benyon was just cordoning off the dangerous area and putting up warning notices. If someone had valuables hidden in the hypocaust, he must have been waiting on thorns for the chance to get his hoard away, and baulked all day by staff and visitors wandering around. He came at dusk, as soon as he dared, when everyone was gone. So did the boy. Maybe he’d already unearthed what was left, and it was too late just to warn him off and hope for the best. X preferred a final solution.’
‘Is this a theory?’ she asked in horrified fascination. ‘Or do you know it?’
‘It’s a theory. One that fits. In the last days of Aurae Phiala the coinage was shaky in the extreme, a lot of barbarous, debased pieces were being struck everywhere. But this—I’m well briefed on the subject, this isn’t my own knowledge—is a fine, full-weight aureus from two hundred years previously, enormously enhanced in value. And the Romans were hoarders. Now supposing some family here had a store of such good gold pieces at the end, when the Welsh attack was threatening, they might very well bury it for safety, in the hope of recovering it later. They seem to have shut their eyes and hoped to the very end.’
‘But can one coin prove anything?’ she said hesitantly.
‘A very special coin. It hadn’t lain loose in the soil for centuries, or even for weeks. It’s virtually mint-new. That means it’s been kept carefully and put away securely, and certainly not alone. In a pottery jar, well sealed. During the slip falling bricks inside the flue may have broken the jar, and rolling earth carried one coin down the slope, for Gerry to find. Not a dull bit of corroded bronze, but fire-new gold. No wonder he went back to look for more.’
‘But if someone knew all about it before, this treasure, why hadn’t he removed it earlier?’
‘It was safe enough where it was, until the river took a bite out of the hypocaust. It’s possible the hoard was actually found somewhere else on the site—say the cellar of one of the houses—and put in the flue for safe-keeping, to be drained away gradually. A whole thicket of broom bushes came down in that slip, as you saw. I think there was a way into the flue all along, under cover of those bushes. Possibly the slip, while it exposed it, also partially filled it in. I think, too, that the find was not merely of coins, but also of small pieces of jewellery and other articles. The indications are that this site may have been exploited for at least a year. You can’t dispose of such pieces wholesale. You take one or two, having studied the collectors of the world, and the highly professional fences of the antique market, and place them where they’ll bring you in the best and safest return. You lie low for a while, and you disperse a handful of coins, singly, perhaps not to the best advantage, but still it’s all clear profit. And when you hit a passionate collector who takes care to ask no questions, then you venture the big deal. But it means dedicated study, exact judgement, and above all, time.’
He could sense, even in the darkness, the enormous wonder of her eyes, fixed unwaveringly upon his face though they saw him only as a bulk solid and still between her and the sky. ‘But how do you know all this?’ she said. ‘About a whole year’s robberies from here?’
‘I don’t yet—not to say know. But for about a year certain pieces of late Roman coinage and art have been cropping up in unexpected places in the international market. Obviously genuine pieces, but of very dubious provenance. Only a few, of course. Collectors are queer fish, you know, liable to banditry without any qualms. But four instances have come to light within the year, through dealers or buyers who did have qualms. And four coming to light argues forty or more in the dark, most likely for good.’
‘And there’s something to connect these cases with Aurae Phiala?’
‘Not until now, not specifically. But period and style are right. You’ve seen the ones in the museum here, the curvilinear trumpets and dragons, those un-Roman Roman antiquities? Let’s say, there was plenty to connect our cases with four or five border sites, of which Aurae Phiala is one. And one such gold coin here, and a cold-blooded killing, are fairly eloquent argument.’
She was shivering slightly but perceptibly, not from cold and not from fear, but with the vibration of some personal and secret tension about which he had, as yet, no right to ask. She might, if he waited, confide in him, but not now; there was no time, if she was to retain her immaculate position in this household. He put a hand upon her shoulder, which was firm and slender, and turned her towards the gate.
‘Keep your lips closed and your eyes open, and think about it. And if you want me, I won’t be far away.’
‘But you won’t be here,’ she said, not complaining, merely making the position clear to herself, and well aware that her utterance had its ambiguities. ‘Not all the time.’
‘You won’t be entirely unprotected here,’ he assured her, ‘even when I’m not around. Better get back now, before they come out to look for you.’ She sensed that he was smiling again. It wasn’t an amused smile, but it was one that sent her away at a brisk and confident walk towards the house, and with a gratifying sense of being respected and appreciated.
