The Eighth Commandment by Lawrence Sanders Read Free Book Online

have some vodka,” I offered.
    “I’ll pass,” he said. “But I could stand another coffee—if it’s not too much trouble.”
    “All I’ve got is instant. Black.”
    “My favorite vintage,” he said.
    When Hobart Juliana had left my apartment early that morning, I had folded his sheet and blanket and stacked them atop his pillow on the couch. They were still there, and I knew Detective Al Georgio noticed them. But he didn’t say anything.
    I made him a cup of instant decaffeinated. He blew on it to cool it. My father used to do that.
    “Tell me about the coin,” he said. “Please.”
    I described the Demaretion, and then showed him an exact-size photograph in one of my catalogues.
    “Doesn’t look like much,” he said.
    “It is much,” I said indignantly. “A beautiful example of classic Greek minting.”
    “How come it’s worth so much?”
    “Rarity. It’s a real museum piece. And the quality of the minting. Also, there’s a story connected with it. It was made in Sicily when the Greeks occupied the island. Gelon, the Greek commander, defeated attacking Carthaginians at the battle of Himera in Four-eighty B.C. I guess Gelon was going to cut off all their heads, or something—he was supposed to be a genuine bastard—but his wife, Demarete, interceded on behalf of the Carthaginians, and Gelon softened the surrender terms. In gratitude, the Carthaginians gave Demarete a gold wreath in the value of a hundred talents. From this, she had minted a series of big coins, dekadrachms, that were named for her. How do you like that romantic tale?”
    He looked at me thoughtfully. “I thought this coin was silver.”
    “It is. Not pure silver, of course. That would be too soft for a coin. But an alloy with a high silver content.”
    “Well, if this Demarete got a gift of gold, how come she had silver coins made? Why didn’t she have the wreath melted down and have gold coins minted?”
    I laughed. “You really are a detective, aren’t you? A lot of numismatists have asked the same question. Some of them think the story is pure hogwash. Some keep looking for a gold Demaretion. But no such animal has ever turned up. Just the silver variety.”
    “How many are there?”
    “In the world? Maybe a dozen. Possibly fifteen. Those are the known ones. There may be others in private collections no one knows about.”
    He shook his head. “Crazy business. What’s a talent of gold worth?”
    “About six thousand drachms. Ask what an ancient Greek drachm is worth in today’s money—or an ancient Syrian shekel—and you’ll get a million guesses. But no one really knows exactly.”
    He sighed. “I suppose all I’ve got to know is that the missing Demaretion was insured for one-fifty big ones and valued by Grandby’s at three-fifty. That’s grand larceny no matter how you slice it.”
    I stared at him. “You don’t think I stole it, do you?”
    He stared back at me. “I’m just starting on this thing,” he said quietly. “I’d like to be able to tell you, No, I don’t think you did it. But I can’t say that. Right now everyone in the Havistock family and everyone connected with the transfer of the coins is a possible perpetrator. Including you. You can understand that, can’t you?”
    “I guess,” I said miserably. “But for what it’s worth, I didn’t do it. I could never do anything like that. I love coins too much.”
    He threw his head back and roared with delight. “That’s one hell of an alibi,” he said.
    Then I laughed, too, realizing what I had said.
    “Where do you go from here?” I asked him. “What’s the next step?”
    He sobered. Frowned. “I think I better meet with Havistock and the secretary, Vanwinkle, and get their story on how the transfer was made.”
    “They’ll verify everything I’ve told you.”
    “Will they?” Then, suddenly: “I’d like you to be there. If they say something that doesn’t check with your recollection of what went on, I want you to speak