“The woman who discovered the cave, Dr. Tanner, found a large copper and silver buckle. It was trapped beneath the boulder outside the entrance to the cave. He’s also dated this to the same sort of period and believes it to be local or possibly Aragonese. There’s a photograph of it in the envelope.”
Marie-Cecile waved her hand. “I’m not interested in a buckle, Paul,” she said. She breathed a spiral of smoke into the air. “I do, however, want to know why you haven’t found the book.”
She saw his long fingers wind round the arms of his chair.
“We have no evidence the book was actually there,” he said calmly. “Although the leather pouch is certainly big enough to have contained a book of the size you seek.”
“And what about the ring? Do you doubt that was there also?”
Again, he did not let her provoke him. “On the contrary, I am certain:he ring was there.”
“Well?”
“It was there, but some time between the cave being discovered and my arrival with the police, it was taken.”
“But you have no evidence of that either,” she said, her voice sharp now. Unless I am mistaken, you do not have the ring either.“
Marie-Cecile watched as Authie produced a piece of paper from his pocket. “Dr. Tanner was most insistent, so much so that she drew this,” he said, handing it over. “It’s crude, I admit, but it’s a pretty good match for the description you gave me. Don’t you think?”
She took the sketch from his hand. The size, shape and proportion were not identical, but close enough to the diagram of the labyrinth ring Marie-Cecile had locked in her safe in Chartres. No one outside the de l’Oradore family had seen it for eight hundred years. It had to be genuine.
“Quite the artist,” she murmured. “Was this the only drawing she did?”
His gray eyes looked clear into hers without faltering. “There are others, but this was the only one worth bothering about.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” she said quietly.
“I’m afraid, Madame de l’Oradore, I took only this. The others seemed irrelevant.” Authie shrugged apologetically. “Besides, Inspector Noubel, the investigation officer, was already suspicious of my interest.”
“Next time…” she started to say, then stopped. She extinguished her cigarette, grinding it so hard that tobacco spilled out in a fan. “You searched Dr. Tanner’s belongings, I presume?”
He nodded. “The ring wasn’t there.”
“It’s small. She could easily have hidden it somewhere.”
“Technically,” he agreed, “although I don’t think she did. If she stole it, why would she mention it in the first place? Also”-he leaned over and tapped the paper-“if she had got the original in her possession, why bother to make a record of it?”
Marie-Cecile looked at the drawing. “It’s surprisingly accurate for something done from memory.” I agree.
“Where is she now?”
“Here. In Carcassonne. It appears she has a meeting with a solicitor tomorrow.”
“Concerning?”
He shrugged. “A legacy, something of that sort. She’s due to fly home on Sunday.”
The doubts Marie-Cecile had from the moment she’d heard about the find yesterday were intensifying the more he told her. Something didn’t add up.
“How did Dr. Tanner get her place on the team?” she said. “Was she recommended?”
Authie looked surprised. “Dr. Tanner wasn’t actually a member of the team,” he said lightly. “I’m sure I mentioned this.”
Her lips tightened. “You did not.”
“I’m sorry,” he said smoothly. “I was sure I had. Dr. Tanner’s a volunteer. Since most excavations rely on unpaid help, when a request was put in for her to join the team for this week, there seemed no reason to turn it down.”
“Who requested it?”
“Shelagh O’Donnell, I believe,” he said blandly, “the number two on the site.”
“She’s a friend of Dr. O’Donnell?” she said, struggling to conceal her surprise.
“Obviously, it crossed my mind therefore that Dr. Tanner might have passed the ring to her. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a chance to interview her on Monday and now she appears to have disappeared.”
“She’s what?” she said sharply. “When? Who knows about this?”
“O’Donnell was at the site house last night. She took a phone call, then went out shortly afterwards. No one’s seen her since.”
Marie-Cecile lit another cigarette to steady her nerves. “Why was I not told about this before?”
“I didn’t realize you would be interested in something so peripheral to your main concerns. I apologize.”
“Have the police been informed?”
“Not yet. Dr. Brayling, the site director, has given everyone a few days’ leave. He thinks it’s possible-probable-that O’Donnell has simply taken off without bothering to let anyone know.”
“I do not want the police involved,” she said forcefully. “It would be extremely regrettable.”
“I quite agree, Madame de l’Oradore. Dr. Brayling is not a fool. If he believes O’Donnell has taken something from the site, then it’s hardly in his best interests to involve the authorities.”
“Do you think O’Donnell stole the ring?”
Authie evaded the question. “I think we should find her.”
“That’s not what I asked. And the book? Do you think she might have taken that too?”
Authie met her gaze straight on. “As I said, I remain open-minded about whether or not the book was ever there.” He paused. “If it was, I’m not convinced she could have got it away from the site without being seen. The ring’s a different matter.”
“Well, someone did,” she snapped in frustration.
“As I said, if it was there at all.”
Marie-Cecile sprang to her feet, taking him by surprise, and walked round the table until she was standing in front of him. For the first time, she saw a flash of alarm in his gray eyes. She bent down and pressed her hand flat against his chest.
“I can feel your heart beating,” she said softly. “Beating very hard. Now why might that be, Paul?” Holding his gaze, she pressed him back against the chair. “I don’t tolerate mistakes. And I don’t like not being kept informed.” Their eyes locked. “You understand me?”
Authie did not answer. She had not intended him to.
“All you had to do was deliver to me the objects you promised. That’s what I’m paying you for. So, find the English girl, deal with Noubel if necessary, the rest is your business. I don’t want to hear about it.”
“If I’ve done anything to give you the impression that-”
She put her fingers to his lips and felt him flinch at the physical contact.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
She released the pressure and stepped away from him, back out onto the balcony. The evening had stripped the color from everything, leaving the buildings and bridges silhouetted against the darkening sky.
A moment later, Authie came and stood next to her.
“I don’t doubt you are doing your best, Paul,” she said quietly. He put his hands next to hers on the railings and, for a second, their fingers touched. “There are other members of the Noublesso Veritables in Carcassonne, of course, who would serve just as well. However, given the extent of your involvement so far…”
She left the sentence hanging. From the stiffening of his shoulders and back, she knew the warning shot had hit home. She raised her hand to attract her driver, who was waiting below.
“I would like to visit the Pic de Soularac myself.”
“You’re staying in Carcassonne?”
She hid her smile. “For a few days, yes.”
“I was under the impression you didn’t wish to enter the chamber until the night of the ceremony-”
“I’ve changed my mind,” she said, turning to face him. “Now I’m here.” She smiled. “I have things to attend to, so if you could pick me up at one o’clock, that will give me time to read your report. I’m at the Hotel de la Cite.”