“My dear Francis,
A thousand heartfelt apologies for being such a poor friend. You will, I hope, understand that when your unfortunate accident occurred I found it difficult to calculate the appropriate response. No doubt you will be able to advise me that it was not the one I took, but there appeared to be a number of difficulties, which I do not wish to spell out, but which I believe you will be able to divine. Leaving that matter aside, I happened to run into a common acquaintance of ours the other day who advised me of your current circumstances. I am sorry that you are finding it difficult to gain employment suited to your great intellectual ability or indeed as I understand to gain and retain gainful employment of any sort. I was told that financially things are very tight, although this has not held you back from offering your services to the country at this dire time – bravo for joining the AFS and, platitudinous as it is, I cannot refrain from asking you to look after yourself in your dangerous work. In any event, returning to financial matters, I may be in a position to help you earn some more money. A foreign friend of mine requires some artistic advice. I shall not spell this out here, but I have asked him to contact you at your address. If, of course, you do not care to undertake the work, I quite understand, but it would certainly be remunerative. The gentleman or one of his associates will visit you on Tuesday at 5pm. If your other duties call you away at the time, he will leave a note as to where he can be contacted. Good luck. Yours, Anthony.”
Evans had indeed been contacted by a Russian gentleman named Trubetskoi, a stocky fellow of middle height with a shock of dyed red hair. He had explained that he had some paintings and other antique treasures in storage and would appreciate Evans’ opinion on them. Evans had explained that pictures rather than antiques were his speciality, but Trubetskoi had waved his hand imperiously and given him a card with an address in Shepherd’s Bush and a meeting time on it. This was the meeting he had to go to.
He set down the letter. His heart was pounding. Whilst he was excited at the prospect of making some money for easy work, apparently on a regular basis, he felt uncomfortable. There was something worrying about Trubetskoi that he couldn’t put his finger on – and how was he a friend of Blunt? Blunt had often discussed his communist leanings with Evans. Was there some kind of connection there?
Cooper wandered up and threw his newspaper in front of Evans. “Fancy a read? Some interesting stuff. Did you know…?” Evans tuned out as Cooper gave him a summary of all the stories he had read in the paper. Was there a word that meant the opposite of précis? If there was, it was applicable.
*
Merlin was sharing with Bridges his suspicions about Tarkowski, when Robinson came in, a little flustered but smiling. Merlin waved her to a seat as Bridges gave him his opinion. “He gave us the bum’s rush, sir. No doubt about it. Shifty is what I’d call him.”
“Indeed, Sergeant. I think it’s fair to say he wasn’t completely open with us and he certainly overplayed the backache. I wonder why?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, Constable, you seem pleased. What have you to tell us?”
“I found my brother at the barracks. He confirmed our initial thoughts, sir. He’s pretty sure the picture is of an Aztec amulet from the time of Montezuma. He remembers reading a study of artefacts from that period and believes he saw a picture of something similar if not the same piece.”
“Montezuma? How fascinating. I was only reading about him the other night. And is it gold?”
“Almost certainly, with gemstones for the eyes.”
“Well, well. Something from one of the most interesting periods in history or certainly Spanish history.”
“Would that Montezuma be the same one as in Montezuma’s Revenge?”
“Very funny, Sergeant.”