‘Perhaps you should be looking for an unsigned set, so you’ll be one step ahead of your forger.’
‘Good idea,’ said William, deciding not to tell her that was exactly what he’d been doing all day. ‘Perhaps we should meet regularly, as you should have been a detective.’
‘And you should clearly be giving lectures at the Fitzmolean.’
They both laughed.
‘How awkward first dates are,’ said William.
‘Is this a first date?’ asked Beth, giving him a warm smile.
‘I hope so.’
‘Coffee?’ asked Gino.
William didn’t notice the time slip by until Beth whispered, ‘I think the staff want to go home.’
He looked around to see that they were the last two customers in the restaurant, and quickly called for the bill.
‘Do you live nearby?’ he asked.
‘In Fulham. I share a flat with a friend. But don’t worry, I can catch a bus from here.’
‘I can’t afford the bus fare,’ said William after looking at the bill. ‘So can I walk you home?’
‘I hope we’ll see you again soon, signorina,’ said Gino as he opened the door for them.
‘I haven’t decided yet,’ said Beth, returning his grin.
William took her hand as they crossed the road, and they didn’t stop chatting about nothing, about everything, until they reached Beth’s front door, when he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. As she put her key in the lock he asked, ‘Would you like to come to the Fake Gallery with me?’
‘Are you ever off duty, Detective Constable Warwick?’ she asked.
‘Not while there’s an outside chance I’ll find your Rembrandt, Miss Rainsford.’
9
The rule was simple. If the phone rang, you took the call, like the next cab on the rank. You wrote down the details before briefing DCI Lamont, who would decide which one of them would take on the case, assuming there was a case to take on.
Quite often the call came from a member of the public who’d had a family keepsake stolen and wanted to know what the police intended to do about it. You had to explain that most burglaries were a matter for their local constabulary, as the Art and Antiques unit only had four officers, so it couldn’t follow up every inquiry. However, Commander Hawksby never stopped reminding them that to an old lady who’d lost her Victorian brooch it was the Crown Jewels, and for many callers, this was their only direct contact with the police.
‘When you put the phone down,’ he told William, ‘be sure you have a happy, satisfied customer, rather than someone who believes the police aren’t on their side.’
William picked up the phone.
‘Sorry to bother you,’ said a well-spoken voice. ‘I just hope I’m not wasting your time.’
‘You won’t be wasting my time,’ said William, ‘if you believe a crime has been committed.’
‘That’s the problem. I’m not altogether sure a crime’s been committed, but it looks a bit fishy.’
William smiled at the quaint expression. ‘Can I start by taking your name, sir?’ he asked, picking up a pen, aware that half the time the caller put the phone down after that question.
‘Jeremy Webb. I work at the London Silver Vaults in the City. You might not have heard of us.’
‘My father took me there one half-term when he was buying a gift for my mother’s birthday. I’ve never forgotten it. There must have been at least a couple of dozen different stalls, all hugger-mugger—’
‘Thirty-seven shops,’ said Webb. ‘I’m president of the London Silver Vaults Association this year, which is the reason I’m calling. Several of our members have raised a problem with me.’
‘What kind of problem?’ asked William. ‘Take your time, Mr. Webb, and don’t hesitate to mention any detail, however insignificant it may seem.’
‘Thank you,’ said Webb. ‘The LSVA is comprised of a group of associated members whose principal activity is to buy and sell silver. It can be anything from a Victorian teaspoon to a large centerpiece for a dining room table. Now silver, as I’m sure you know, has to be hallmarked and accepted by the assayer’s office before it can be described as sterling. No serious collector would ever consider purchasing an item unless it was properly hallmarked.’
William remained pen poised, aware that Mr. Webb would get there in his own time.
‘Over the past month, the vaults have regularly been visited by a gentleman whose only interest is in buying silver that is at least a hundred years old. He doesn’t seem to care if it’s a George V coronation medal, or a school trophy for the long jump. One of the four hallmarks indicates the year of manufacture, and several of my colleagues have noted that this particular gentleman always checks the age of a piece using a loupe, before taking any interest in the object itself.’
‘A loupe?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Webb. ‘It’s a small magnifying glass, often used by jewelers and watchmakers.’
‘I see,’ said William, although he still wasn’t sure where this was leading.
‘The other thing that made my colleagues suspicious is that he always pays in cash.’
‘Large-denomination notes?’
‘No. We’re always on the lookout for that, following the Treasury’s recent directives on money laundering. Am I making any sense, officer?’
‘You are, Mr. Webb. Do you know the gentleman’s name?’
‘That’s the thing,’ said Webb. ‘We always take the name and address of every customer, but this man has given us several different names, and never the same address.’
William was suddenly more interested. ‘Do any of your stallholders have any idea who he might be?’
‘One of our dealers says he recognizes him, but can’t be sure from where. He claims he doesn’t recall his name.’
‘You say “claims.” That suggests you’re not convinced.’
‘A few years ago, the stallholder in question was sentenced to six months in prison for handling stolen goods. The probation service asked us to give him a second chance, which we did — reluctantly. But we warned him that if he put a foot out of line again, he would be expelled from the society.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Ken Appleyard.’
William wrote down the name. ‘And given your experience in the field, Mr. Webb, do you have a theory as to why our mystery man is buying so much old silver?’
‘To begin with, I assumed it might be money laundering, but he kept coming back. So, unless he’s stupid, that didn’t make any sense. Then I wondered if he was melting the silver down, but that also didn’t add up, because the price of silver has fallen recently. So I confess I’m completely flummoxed. However, my board of trustees felt I should let you know, to be on the safe side.’
‘I’m most grateful, Mr. Webb. I’ll brief my boss about your concerns, and may well get back to you.’
The first thing William did after he’d hung up wasn’t to brief Lamont, but to take the lift down to minus one, where the police national computer was housed. A PC who looked even younger than him tapped in the name Ken Appleyard, and in a matter of moments a record of his previous convictions was printed out. It confirmed that Appleyard had been sentenced to six months for receiving stolen goods. William was pleased to see that he had no other convictions, and since his release hadn’t received so much as a parking ticket.
William returned to his office bearing the charge sheet. Lamont was on the phone, but waved William to the chair by his side. William knew that the boss was assisting an Interpol inquiry into a diamond smuggling ring that worked out of Ghana and Dubai. Once Lamont put the phone down he switched his attention to what William had to say.