Death of an Elgin Marble by David Dickinson Read Free Book Online

‘It’s always busy, the pavements outside are always crowded, a man could operate happily from there without being noticed. I’m sure the Inspector here will check the guest list most carefully.’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Gentlemen, thank you for your advice. I shall follow it to the letter and I am, as I said, most grateful for your assistance, Inspector. I suggest we meet again at four o’clock this afternoon. I have a meeting with the Sumerians in five minutes. Is there anything else you would like to say about the letter?’
    ‘I hope we shall not keep the Sumerians waiting,’ said Powerscourt, wondering if they were going to arrive in original costumes, ‘but there is one thing that concerns me. It has to do with the publicity and the threat of exposure of the loss of the Caryatid.’
    ‘Exactly so,’ put in the Inspector, ‘I too was going to mention the threat to tell
The Times
.’
    ‘If you are both in agreement, then my guests may have to wait a moment or two. Please continue.’
    Inspector Kingsley gestured to Powerscourt that the older man should pick up the baton.
    ‘Consider the question of publicity, Mr Ragg. I’m sure the thieves thought there would be a great hue and cry once the loss was discovered. Headlines all over the newspapers, questions in Parliament from tame MPs, the usual sort of stuff. And all that, when you think about it, is to the thieves’ advantage. Let’s suppose that they had a buyer for the statue long before they stole it. The buyer will read the newspapers. I’m sure a story like this would find its way into the European and American papers too. For the buyer, the publicity acts as a kind of confirmation. He knows the Caryatid has gone. He believes it will come to him. All he has to do is wait.’
    While Powerscourt paused, Inspector Kingsley picked up his train of thought. ‘But suppose you are the man who has commissioned the thieves. There is no mention of it in the newspapers. As far as the real client knows, the Caryatid may still be in place. He may not believe the thieves when they tell him that she is gone, that she is in their possession.’
    ‘Are you saying that the silence may promote suspicion and anger between the ultimate client and the thieves who actually took the Caryatid?’
    ‘We are,’ said Powerscourt. The Inspector nodded.
    ‘Then surely we should keep quiet for as long as possible,’ said Ragg firmly, closing his notebook with a flourish. ‘By all means let us spread discord and mutual suspicion among our enemies.’
    ‘Exactly,’ said the Inspector.
    ‘Indeed,’ added Powerscourt.
    As they made their way back to the street Inspector Kingsley stopped by the railings and looked back at the museum.
    ‘I was so grateful, you know, my lord, when this investigation came along. I’d just looked after three murder cases in a row.’
    ‘And you are not fond of murder cases, would that be right?’
    ‘I loathe them. I absolutely loathe them,’ Inspector Kingsley spoke quietly but with great force. ‘But now I’m not so sure this Caryatid affair is going to be any better. This case is proving to be difficult and potentially dangerous.’
    ‘But still preferable to murder inquiries?’ asked Powerscourt.
    ‘Oh yes.’
    Neither man knew it at the time but they had not to wait long before the Case of the Missing Caryatid produced its first corpse.

4
    Powerscourt went straight to Linfords in New Bond Street, one of London’s leading firms of art auctioneers. They had been putting paintings, sculpture, tapestries, jewels of every sort under the hammer for nearly two hundred years. Their publicity claimed they could give you a quotation and a sale on everything from a Fragonard painting to a Fabergé egg. They cultivated an air of effortless grandeur, as if they were of a superior race to the people whose possessions they were selling. They were all, Powerscourt had decided long before, pretending to be patricians, patricians fallen on harder