The commander waited until the door had been closed before he spoke again.
‘William, I know you’re bright, your colleagues also know you’re bright, so you don’t have to continually remind them you turned what they had thought was a triumph into a disaster. If you want to end up in this chair one day, don’t spend any more time pissing off the people you’ll be working with. I suggest you occasionally seek advice, and don’t just dispense it. Perhaps you should spend a little more time in the snooker room, as it didn’t seem to do you any harm in Lambeth.’
William recalled his father’s words. Not a man to be underestimated.
Quietly he left the room, his head bowed. He thought about the commander’s words as he walked slowly down the corridor. He hadn’t yet visited the snooker room at Scotland Yard. When he returned to the office he shared with his colleagues, he found two case files had been dumped on his desk. He was halfway through one labeled CHURCHILL, when DS Roycroft appeared by his side.
‘Which one do you think I should start on, sarge?’ he asked her.
‘Remind me,’ said Jackie.
‘Winston Churchill, or moon dust?’
‘Moon dust should be pretty easy to deal with. The professor is clearly not a criminal, and frankly, Mr. Underwood, the undersecretary at the American Embassy, is overreacting. But we don’t want a diplomatic incident, so make sure you tread carefully.’
‘And Churchill?’
‘Churchill will be more of a challenge, but as the Hawk reminded us, nowadays it’s all about numbers, so make sure you apprehend the culprit and charge him, even though I suspect he’ll only get a six-month suspended sentence. At least it will be one more for the record. More importantly, I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that you’re single-handedly going to find the Rembrandt forger in the hope he’ll lead us to Faulkner. One piece of advice, Bill,’ she said pointedly. ‘Don’t even think about going home before the light under the Hawk’s door has been switched off.’
‘Thanks for the advice,’ said William, as he reopened the moon dust file. After reading all the details of the case, he had to agree with Jackie that the professor may have been naive, even culpable, but he certainly wasn’t a criminal.
When Big Ben struck six times, William decided it was too late to phone the undersecretary at the American Embassy, as Mr. Underwood wouldn’t have to wait until the light in the Hawk’s office had been switched off before he could go home.
7
‘Can you put me through to Mr. Chuck Underwood?’
‘Who’s calling?’
‘Detective Constable William Warwick, from Scotland Yard.’
‘I’ll see if the undersecretary is available.’
William had to wait so long, he wondered if the line had gone dead. Finally a voice came on the line.
‘Warwick?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘What’s happened to DS Roycroft?’
‘I’ve taken over the case, sir.’
‘Is there anything lower than a detective constable?’
‘Only a probationer, sir, and I was one of those not so long ago.’
‘And you will be again if I don’t get my moon dust back.’
‘I’m working on it, sir, but I need to ask you a few questions.’
‘Not again!’
‘Did the American government originally give the phial of moon dust to Professor Francis Denning of Manchester University as a gift?’
‘Yes, we did. But there were conditions attached. We made it clear it was never to be passed on to anyone else, and that under no circumstances was it to be sold to a third party.’
‘And was that put in writing at the time?’
‘It most certainly was, and we have the documentation to prove it. And now, as I’m sure you are aware, a Dr. Keith Talbot has put the phial up for sale at Sotheby’s.’
‘Yes, I did know, sir. I have the catalog in front of me.’
‘Then you will see on page thirty-one, lot nineteen, a phial of moon dust, rare, brought back from the Apollo 11 mission by Mr. Neil Armstrong.’
‘However,’ said William, ‘the late Professor Denning left the phial to Dr. Talbot in his will.’
‘It wasn’t his to leave, Detective Constable Warwick, as I made clear to DS Roycroft.’
‘You did indeed, sir. But I am sure you understand that we must follow the letter of the law.’
‘At a snail’s pace, it would seem, despite the fact that our legal team is at your disposal.’
‘That’s good to know, sir, because we wouldn’t want to do anything to harm the special relationship between our two countries, would we?’
‘Cut out the sarcasm, Warwick, and just get my moon dust back.’
The phone went dead. William swiveled around in his chair to see Jackie grinning at him.
‘He grows on you,’ she said, ‘but Underwood’s one of those Americans who considers Britain to be one of their smaller states. It won’t be long before he reminds you that Texas is almost three times the size of the United Kingdom. So if you want to avoid a major diplomatic incident, I suggest you get his moon dust back.’
‘I hear you,’ said William. ‘But equally important, how do I get a train ticket to Manchester?’
‘You report to Mavis in Travel on the ground floor. But I warn you, if you think Mr. Underwood is tough, compared to Mavis, he’s a softie. If it was up to her, the Queen would travel second class, and the likes of us would be shoveling coal into the engine’s furnace.’
‘Thanks for the warning.’
‘Mavis—’
‘Mrs. Walters to you, young man. You can’t call me Mavis until you’re at least a chief inspector. Start again.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said William. ‘Mrs. Walters, I need—’
‘Name, rank, and department?’
‘Warwick, DC, Art and Antiques.’
‘So what were you hoping for?’
‘To be the commissioner.’
‘Try again,’ said Mrs. Walters, but she did at least manage a smile.
‘A return train ticket to Manchester.’
‘What is the purpose of your trip, and how long will you be in Manchester?’
‘I’ll be visiting the university, and hope to go there and back on the same day.’
‘Then you’ll have to catch the seven forty-two from Euston, and the last train back on a weekday is the ten forty-three. If you miss it, you’ll be spending the night on a bench on platform twelve. You are entitled to one meal, at a cost of no more than two pounds eighty, which you can claim on your duty sheet 232, but I’ll require a receipt.’ Mrs. Walters began to write out a train warrant for Manchester Piccadilly. ‘If you’re going to the university, you’ll have to catch the 147 bus. You’ll also need an umbrella.’
‘An umbrella?’
‘You’ve obviously never been to Manchester before.’
‘Good morning, Mr. Warwick,’ said the young woman who met him at the front desk. ‘I’m Melanie Clore. How can I help you?’
‘You have a sale coming up on July the seventeenth—’
‘Which lot number do you want us to withdraw?’
‘How could you possibly know—’
‘The police don’t visit Sotheby’s to put something up for sale.’
William smiled. ‘Lot number nineteen. A phial of moon dust brought back on the Apollo 11 mission by Neil Armstrong.’
Miss Clore checked the catalog. ‘Offered to us by a Dr. Keith Talbot, who produced a will to confirm that the moon dust had been left to him.’
‘The American Embassy is claiming ownership and say they will sue everybody in sight if you go ahead with the sale.’
‘And we wouldn’t want that, would we, Mr. Warwick?’