The man nodded, opening his case and taking out a brown envelope carefully. Matthew thought he saw something metallic and black; a gun?
It was a fleeting glance, as Dimitri shut the case and opened the envelope. He tipped the photographs onto the desk in front of Matthew. Matthew did not notice that at no time did the man touch the photographs.
Matthew picked up the first photograph.
The sword looked very similar to his in length and general shape. A double-edged sword with plain hilt and leather handgrip with a small pommel to prevent the hand from sliding off in combat, except the handgrip seemed in better condition than his sword, but only marginally.
It was the inscription that he found most exciting, for it was almost exactly the same as on his.
“Where was yours found?” he asked.
“I am not certain. I was informed they were found in what was the German Democratic Republic; you would know as East Germany. I was posted there for a while. I never saw the site, but they tell me that it was from a burying site.”
“That’s a burial site,” Matthew said, correcting him.
The Russian gave him a meaningful glance, so Matthew tightened his lips.
“I see your sword now?” he asked.
Matthew nodded and opened the display case, as he had done for Gwen and Tamsyn. He brought the sword to the desk and laid it gently down.
The Russian stared at it without touching it.
“Da, it is almost the same,” he said.
At that moment, the telephone rang. It was Mrs Stewartby informing him that a young motorcycle courier had arrived with a small package,e and he was under instructions to get only Matthew’s signature. It was from the woman from Cornwall – Gwen Trounce. Apparently, it was a full transcription of the sword’s markings.
“Oh, can he not wait?”
“No sir; apparently not.”
“Damn and blast!” said Matthew. “Very well, I’ll be down forthwith.”
Turning to the Russian, he said, “I have to go down to deal with this. I shall place this in the safety of the case until I return. I hope you understand?”
The Russian nodded, seemingly unconcerned, which allayed Matthew’s fears somewhat.
The man made no attempt to hinder him returning the sword, nor did he attempt to view the key pad.
“I will wait here, da?”
“Da, I mean, yes. I will not be long.”
Matthew smiled uncertainly and left the Russian alone.
The big man moved very swiftly to the wall panel. Taking latex gloves from his pocket, he slipped them onto his hands. Then, using the small black device that Matthew believed was a gun, he attached two wires to the keypad and within a couple of seconds, both the wood front and glass panel slid down, exposing the sword.
Removing a duplicate sword from down his back, Alun simply exchanged the swords, replacing the genuine down his back. The steel was cold and made him shiver. Then, he glanced at the replica and decided that it was an almost perfect match. It was… perfect, until anyone picked it up and felt the weight. It was amazing that the details of the sword were so perfectly recorded in Tamsyn’s subconscious.
Meanwhile, Matthew took the package from a very good-looking young man in motorcycle gear. The bike was sitting on the drive and the boy took his signature and thanked him before leaving. Pity, Matthew would have liked to find out more about him.
When Matthew returned holding the small packet, the Russian was staring out of the window. Matthew had opened the packet while the young rider waited, just to make sure it was what he expected. Matthew was excited, as the transcription was exactly what he wanted. He even tipped the motorcyclist with a £20 note.
“You are interested in buying my swords?” the Russian asked Matthew.
“I’d have to see them first.”
“Da, that is reasonable, as I have seen your sword.”
“Do you wish to handle it?”
“Nyet, there is no point. A sword is a sword. I sell you my swords and the axe for one million US dollars.”
“That’s too much. Without seeing them, I’ll have to reserve judgement and make an offer I believe to be more appropriate. Why don’t you use one of the big auction houses like Sotherby’s or Christie’s?”
The man nodded, narrowing his eyes.
“In my position, it is better I am not seen to be selling them,” he said.
Matthew smiled, understanding full well. The goods might well be either stolen or acquired illegally.
“I understand. As I said, I’d have to see them first.”
“Da, that is acceptable. You come to Russia to see swords?”
“That might raise import/export difficulties for both of us. Can we not have them brought to the UK, say in a consignment of machine parts? Then, I could view them. If I do not want to buy them, I could, of course, arrange to act as your agent and use one of the big London auction houses to sell them on your behalf. I’d only ask a small fee for keeping your details from the public arena.”
The Russian said nothing, staring at Matthew who now felt intimidated and somewhat fearful.
“Da; that might be acceptable, too.”
Matthew then turned and opened the sword safe, just to check. Something niggled at him all the time he left the enigmatic Russian alone in the room, so he felt enormous relief when he saw the familiar sword exactly where he left it.
He closed the safe again.
“I’m sorry, but one can’t be too careful,” he said by apology.
“I would do the same in the circumstances.”
Matthew smiled.
The two men shook hands and Matthew asked if he could drop the big Russian somewhere.
“Da, the airport, please.”
“I’ll have my driver drop you,” he said, and took him downstairs, calling for Mr Stewartby to get the car out again.
He watched the Russian leave and relaxed. What a man, he thought. He wondered whether he was a gangster or an ex-KGB enforcer. He certainly had the presence and the look. He then, wondered whether he had ever killed anyone. He almost felt jealous.
He returned to his study and opened the cabinet again, staring at his beloved sword. Then, without taking it out, he closed the cabinet again and logged into his computer to see how his investments were doing. At no time did he realise that the Russian had not touched anything inside his home, or even any surface inside his car. If he discovered the theft, there would be absolutely no fingerprints of the mysterious Russian.
All he felt was excitement at the prospect at owning three swords.
On arrival in the airport terminal, Allun went directly to the left luggage office and retrieved the cases. He was within the two hours, so it cost him nothing extra.
Carrying the bags, he then made for the disabled toilet in the departures concourse. He had already checked and he noticed that there was no CCTV camera trained on this section. Ten minutes later, Tamsyn emerged wearing a summer dress and a huge smile. She was carrying her instrument case and the pilot’s case. She stuffed the holdall and men’s clothing into the rubbish bin in an area devoid of CCTV coverage.
She hopped onto the bus for the rail station outside the terminal and could not help smiling all the way down the hill. Her torque was back where it belonged, and she decided never to remove it ever again.
As she stepped off the bus, she saw Lee’s motorcycle pull up at the kerb. Lee was fiddling with his smart phone, but looked up as the bus doors closed with a hiss. He took his helmet off and waved. She walked over to him.
“Well?” he said.
She smiled and lifted up the oboe case.
“Success.”
“No?” he said, shocked and surprised. “Okay, how the fuck did you do it?”
She shook her head.
“If you don’t know, then you can’t be forced to tell. Thanks for your timely diversion, as I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Really?”
“Really. It gave me the precious few minutes in which I made the exchange.”