“Well, at last we have found out about the Grand Duchy company. An unregistered foreign company, I suppose. Why on earth do you think de Souza was so cagey about the amulet, sir?”
“Greed, Sergeant. He had the amulet, unknown to us, when I told him Kilinski was dead. He probably thought he might be able to get away with pocketing it for himself. Then, when I pursued further, he got cold feet.” Merlin could feel the adrenalin beginning to flow as it always did when things began to move and come together in a case. Robinson returned, he tidied the papers on his desk and cleared his throat.
“I think we can summarise the facts regarding Kilinski as follows –
One – He was in possession of an ancient Aztec gold amulet and a gold ingot stamped with the arms or design of the Stanislawicki family of Poland.
Two – The gold bar is part of, yes, let’s give it the word, a treasure owned or controlled by Count Tarkowski, a member of the Stanislawicki family, some of which is deposited at the Polish Commonwealth Bank and some of which is apparently stashed in his house, having previously been kept in the now ruined offices of his Grand Duchy and Oriental Trading company.
Three – Kilinski, an apparently loyal and well-regarded RAF pilot, having made several visits to London to make enquiries, was provoked to desert the service, for desert he certainly did, in pursuit of a mission to track down the treasure or the owner or owners of that treasure, or someone connected with such owners.
Four – Tarkowski has been unforthcoming to us about his contact with Kilinski and appears to have something to hide.
Five – A wealthy Russian émigré called Voronov somehow features in the mix as Kilinski met up with him recently. The importance of this apparently heated meeting is not clear.
Six – Kilinski’s body was found not far from Tarkowski’s business premises. Whatever Kilinski was seeking may have led someone to murder him at some time in the early part of last week. Perhaps Kilinski wanted some or all of the treasure for himself. Perhaps he had information with which he hoped to blackmail the owner of the gold. Then again perhaps someone known to us or unknown had a grudge against him unrelated to the gold. Perhaps… well, there are several perhapses.
“Did I miss anything?”
“Seven, sir, that, as Robinson pointed out, Kilinski was staying somewhere other than on the streets and that he had a change of clothes.”
“Quite so, Sergeant. Kilinski was missing, pursuing his vendetta or whatever it was for a week or so. He either stayed at a hotel or rented room or with a friend. We should check that out. But the first task for us, as I originally calculated, is to have another word with the Count. He might be able to open everything up for us, if we can get him to talk.”
“What about Voronov, sir?”
“Have a word with Five, Sergeant.”
“Five, sir?”
“That’s MI5, Constable. They might have something on a rich Russian émigré like him.”
“Should I—?”
“If you can dig anything up on your own, Constable, go ahead. Sergeant, make the call to Five and then let’s track down Tarkowski.”
*
Voronov put down the telephone. Wertheim was proving to be a useful addition to his payroll. More useful anyway than that hot-headed young Pole. If the police were closing in on Tarkowski, he had better move quickly if he was going to get his hands on any of the gold. The Countess had told him that all of the gold was at the Commonwealth Bank. He had suspected this was a lie and now, thanks to Wertheim, he knew it. What a fool Tarkowski was to keep what could well be a large portion of it in his house. However solid the cellar or attic or wherever it was that he had stored it, it would not keep Voronov out. He would have to move quickly. Maksim would have to track down Trubetskoi. Perhaps his looting gang could be put to a new use. Tonight might be too soon to organise everything, but he could aim at tomorrow.
“Maksim, where the hell are you?”
*