Merlin raised his eyebrows at Robinson. “You mean you have it, sir?”
The banker rose and walked a little unsteadily over to a portrait of a smug-looking, Victorian gentleman on the wall to his right. The painting swung back to reveal a small safe. With surprisingly deft fingers he applied the combination, opened the safe door and removed something.
Back at the desk, he carefully laid the object, wrapped in a white cloth, in front of Merlin. “Et voilà.” With a sigh, de Souza pulled back the cloth to reveal the entwined snakes of Montezuma, which glinted in the light from the office window.
Merlin caught his breath. Robinson let out a gasp of admiration.
“Yes, a beautiful item, isn’t it? My contact in Hatton Garden valued it at ten thousand pounds, but to the right collector it might be worth much more.”
“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d better take this into my custody.”
De Souza looked wistfully at the sparkling necklace. “Very well, Chief Inspector. Although Mr Kilinski is no more, I had better have a receipt for form’s sake.”
Merlin removed a page of paper from his own notebook and scribbled on it.
“Thank you.”
Merlin rewrapped the amulet in its cloth and put it in his pocket. “When Kilinski left after his first visit, did you contact Tarkowski?”
De Souza removed a handkerchief from his top pocket and mopped his forehead. “Excuse me, Chief Inspector, I am not used to alcohol at this time of day.”
“Did you contact the Count?”
“I felt duty bound to let him know, as a major customer of the bank, that someone was going round asking questions about him and furthermore flourishing a gold ingot like those we had in our vaults . I sent him a message via his wife.”
“Did you mention the amulet?”
“No. I saw no need.”
Merlin felt a twinge of cramp and stretched a leg underneath de Souza’s desk. “What was the Count’s response?”
“When I last saw him he expressed his thanks for keeping him informed. That was all.”
A siren began wailing in the distance and Merlin looked over at Robinson. “Any questions, Constable?”
“Yes, sir. Just one thing, Mr de Souza. Or rather two. On the second occasion you saw him, did Mr Kilinski look in good shape? I mean did he look like he was sleeping rough?”
“He was perfectly presentable.”
“And was he in uniform or civvies?”
“He was wearing a dark suit, shirt and tie, on his second visit.”
“But you know he was a pilot?”
“Of course. He was wearing his uniform on his first.”
“Thank you, sir. That’s all I had to ask.”
The two officers rose and headed for the door from behind which the faint sound of scurrying footsteps could be heard.
*
Back at the Yard, Merlin listened intently as Bridges explained what he had learned from Lenke and then from Mikhail at the restaurant. When he had finished, he swung a leg onto the desk and looked thoughtfully out of the window.
“Shall I rustle up a drink, sir? Still got the taste of that awful cigarette smoke in my mouth.” Robinson coughed to emphasise her point.
As Robinson disappeared through the door, Merlin rummaged in the bottom drawer of his desk and found the two Fisherman’s Friends lozenges from the packet he’d discovered earlier underneath some old files in his filing cabinet. He didn’t bother offering one to Bridges, who, he knew, detested them and popped them both into his mouth. After sucking hard for a moment, he recounted the details of the de Souza interview to the sergeant.