Page 21 of The Sunken Truth (Lily Larkin Mysteries #5)

Chapter Twenty-One

It had been a long-standing joke that it was Lily who set a faster pace for their morning runs. At any hint of tiredness from Flynn, she’d tease him mercilessly about his inability to keep up.

This morning it was Lily who struggled to keep pace, and she wondered whether he’d been holding back on her for all these months. She prided herself on her fitness, but maybe he’d been humouring her the entire time. Now, after only a mile, her lungs burned and her muscles complained.

When she slowed and then stopped, it took Flynn a while to notice.

Finally, he looked back for her and she walked to catch up while he waited further along the path.

“You okay?” he called out.

“You were sprinting,” she told him, irritation rife in her voice.

“Was I?” The exaggerated rise and fall of his chest told her he was at least working hard to go so fast. Also, the way he glanced at his surroundings indicated his mind had been somewhere else entirely .

Lily had run like that a lot after her uncle had died – barely even noticing she was running until her body put up resistance and forced her to stop.

“Sorry,” Flynn said.

She walked beside him on the path, taking in the glorious white beach to their right and the vibrant turquoise water.

“What were you thinking about?” she asked. “Is it the diving incident still?”

“I felt completely incompetent yesterday when the superintendent asked what I’d found and what I’d done all day.”

“Why? You did your job.”

“But I didn’t find anything. And he thought it was ridiculous that I couldn’t track Kurt down.”

“You tracked him down,” Lily insisted. “It’s not your fault that he was ill in bed and not answering his phone or the door.”

“The superintendent seemed to think it was entirely my fault.”

“So it’s the issue with the superintendent that’s really bothering you?”

Flynn puffed his cheeks out. “It’s not fair,” he said, a bite to his words.

“How the heck am I supposed to impress him in a place where there isn’t any proper policing to do?

I spent a while loitering outside the pub last night, hoping someone might get drunk and create a scene. A bar fight is what I need.”

“You’ll figure out who cut Ryan’s hose, and that will impress him.”

Shaking his head, he walked faster. “Detective work isn’t even something I usually do.

I’m not good at it and it’s not what excites me.

I like being called to actual emergencies which require immediate action.

But you’re right that I need to figure it out if I stand any chance of getting him on my side.

I just don’t know how I’m supposed to get to the bottom of it. ”

“It was weird that Kurt suddenly came down with a headache yesterday,” Lily mused, choosing to ignore Flynn’s bad mood and try to help him with the case instead.

“Do you think it was a lie?”

“Yes. I suspect he’s hiding something.”

“How do I find out what?”

“Track him down and question him. I find most of my investigative work is just asking questions until you ask the right person the right question.”

Flynn’s phone buzzed and he eased it from the pouch on his bicep. He sighed before he answered it, muttering about not being on duty.

“Hi, Sarge,” he said into the phone.

Lily leaned close to hear Sergeant Proctor’s words.

“I thought you’d want to know that Eustace Tremayne is at the harbour, attempting to bribe officials to bring him any gold they find.”

Flynn groaned in response.

“I was about to go down there, but given that you already dealt with him yesterday, I thought you might want to be the one to speak to him.”

“Yes,” Flynn said. “Thanks. I’ll get down there ASAP.”

“Good.” The sergeant hesitated. “Flynn…”

“Yeah, I know,” Flynn snapped. “I’ll make sure he gets the message this time.”

His eyes blazed with anger as he ended the call. “Lovely. Now the superintendent will think I’m not even capable of delivering a message to an old man. I have to hurry.” He was already running again when he shouted over his shoulder that he’d speak to her later .

Lily felt a pang of sympathy. The superintendent had really got into his head.

Towering stacks of grey clouds were gathering at the horizon when Flynn marched down to the harbour.

Powerful gusts whipped sea spray into his face as he squinted along the quiet harbour wall.

The marine experts must already have left for the wreck site.

It took a few minutes for him to spot the elderly man sitting on a bench.

He released a relieved breath that he didn’t have to go all the way to Bryher to find him.

“Hello!” Eustace said as Flynn strode up to him. He pointed to the horizon with an indecipherable smile on his face. “Storm clouds.”

Ignoring the statement, Flynn sat beside him. “I told you yesterday that you can’t offer people money for anything found at the shipwreck.”

“I remember. I’m old, not senile.”

“So what made you come down here this morning and make the same offer to the experts heading out there?”

Eustace exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry. I need to get my hands on that gold. It’s very important to me.”

“I’m not sure I was clear yesterday, but failing to hand over artefacts from a shipwreck is a criminal offence. As is selling them.”

“I never intended to keep anything.”

“Maybe not, but it would be an offence for someone to sell it to you.”

“I don’t see it as buying artefacts. I’m merely giving a reward for it.”

“Legally, I think you’d struggle to prove that distinction.”

“I just don’t see the harm in it,” Eustace said .

“For a start, there was an incident yesterday. A diver found something and then had his air hose cut. It could have been very serious. And all because you’ve given people the idea they can make some quick money.”

“The air hose was cut?” Eustace’s eyes narrowed, the already wrinkled skin around them, crinkling even more. “By who?”

“Nobody saw.”

“Goodness,” Eustace said, his low voice filled with wonder. “He was right.”

“Who was right? About what?”

“Grandfather. I always believed him, of course, but…” His eyes snapped to Flynn. “What was found at the wreck? Gold?”

“Some sort of metal box. We’re not sure.”

“It wasn’t recovered?”

“Not yet.” He paused, wondering what had become of it. “At least not that we know of.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“No. Thankfully it was an experienced diver, and they knew what to do. But it could have ended badly. So you can see the problems it causes – you offering rewards.”

“It’s the curse,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“The gold is cursed.” Eustace shook his head. “That’s why I wanted it. Grandfather told me I needed to make sure it always stayed where it is.”

With great effort, Flynn refrained from rolling his eyes. “I don’t quite follow.”

“I was never going to hand the gold in. If it was found, I was going to throw it back into the sea, where it belongs.”

“And yet you were offering an incentive for people to find it?” Flynn said, trying to take the conversation seriously .

“Someone’s going to find it. When they do, I need them to bring it to me.”

Flynn briefly closed his eyes, trying to keep his composure. He supposed he could take a few minutes to humour an old man. “What makes you think the gold is cursed?”

“Grandfather told me.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, his gaze fixed out in the bay. “He really was an honourable man. The only reason he took on the smuggling job was because he was in a financial tight spot. He was desperate and thinking of his family…”

Flynn made a noise of acknowledgement.

“He didn’t get far with it,” Eustace went on, studying the back of his wrinkled hands, dappled with sun spots. “They were in the Mozambique Channel when they were set upon. I suppose it’s a blessing the pirates spared their lives when they took the gold.”

Glancing towards the town, Flynn wondered if Kurt would be easier to track down today. He wanted to deal with that, not listen to Eustace’s fairy tales.

“I thought you said the gold went down with the ship,” he murmured, pointing out the flaw in today’s version of the story.

He shook his head. “There was no gold on the Fortune when it went down in the storm.”

“Not a lot of point in you offering reward money then, is there?”

“The pirates took all they could find,” Eustace went on. “Which didn’t include the small stash Grandpa had hidden.”

Flynn’s ears pricked up.

“He had nothing but bad luck from the moment they took the gold on board. First some bad weather, then the pirates, then a crew member fell from the rigging and died. Then the storm that sank the ship. But that was only the start of it… ”

“Oh?” Flynn said, intrigued, despite himself.

“My father was one of six children,” Eustace said.

“But after that voyage, the family was hit with one tragedy after another. Illnesses and freak accidents. My father died of an infection from a wound inflicted by his dog, who’d always been a gentle creature until that one nip that ended up turning septic.

That was a few months before I was born. My mother died in childbirth.”

“That’s awful,” Flynn muttered.

“Grandfather had never been a superstitious man, but that was the last straw. He took a boat out to Bishop Rock Lighthouse and threw the gold in the sea where the ship had wrecked.”

Somehow Flynn had got entirely swept away with Eustace’s story. “Was it known that he had the gold?”

“No. At first he couldn’t say anything because of the insurance. If there was any whiff of smuggling, the insurance claim would’ve been void. The wreck’s disappearance actually benefited Grandfather. The lack of goods would have raised questions.”

“Did he have the logbook?” Flynn asked, remembering what the man from the British Museum had said about it.

“No. In the chaos of the storm, he couldn’t get to it. He only had the gold because it was in his pocket.”

“What happened after he threw it in the sea?”

“His bad luck went away. No more tragedies. He and my grandmother both lived into their eighties.”

“Why didn’t you mention this yesterday?”

“Because as soon as I mention cursed gold everyone thinks I’m bonkers.

And because I didn’t want anyone to know of my plan to return the gold to the sea.

But I’m desperate.” He turned on the bench, angling himself towards Flynn.

“I have a son and a daughter-in-law in Penzance. Grandchildren too. I’d hate for anything to happen to them. ”

“Because of the curse?” Flynn said, his scepticism kicking back in.

“Yes. Could you help me?”

“How?”

“Let me know if the gold is found, and help me get my hands on it…”

“Steal it?”

“For a good cause. You’ve already seen for yourself the havoc it can wreak.”

“How do you mean?”

“The trouble the diver got into.”

“You think that was down to this supposed curse?”

“I could spend all morning telling you the tragedies that befell my relatives – then you probably wouldn’t have such a difficult time believing that something on the seabed is jinxed.”

Flynn took a calming breath. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to listen to any more stories. And I think you know I can’t steal any archaeological finds for you. Or help you steal it.”

“No, I don’t suppose you can. It was worth a try, though.”

“I really need you to stop offering people money for the gold,” Flynn said, standing.

“Yes, yes. Okay.”

“Promise?” Flynn said, not sure there was actually much he could say to convince him.

“I promise,” he said, extending his hand.

Flynn shook it, hoping that would be the end of it.