Page 27 of The Sunken Truth (Lily Larkin Mysteries #5)
Chapter Twenty-Seven
At the station, Flynn went straight to Sergeant Proctor’s office. While filling him in on the situation with Harry and Nat, he leaned against the counter at the side of the room and did his best to ignore Superintendent Brand’s judgemental glare from where he sat across the desk from the sergeant.
“It seems you’ve ruled the Wrights out of the investigation,” Sergeant Proctor said, rocking back in his chair. “That’s a good thing.”
“Yeah,” Flynn agreed vaguely, wishing it felt more like a win.
“What are you thinking?” Sergeant Proctor asked.
“I’m thinking it’s strange that whatever Ryan found at the wreck hasn’t shown up yet. If he’d just dropped it where he found it, another dive team would surely have found it.”
Sergeant Proctor nodded. “So someone really did sabotage his equipment to get their hands on it.”
“It seems that way.”
“Surely that was obvious,” the superintendent said. “You weren’t thinking it was a coincidence that his hose was cut at the exact moment he got his hands on something at the dive site?”
With his jaw uncomfortably tight, Flynn kept his focus on the sergeant. “If I could find the artefact, I’d find the person who cut Ryan’s hose. I assumed they were planning on handing it over to Eustace, but maybe they’ve changed their plan now that they’re under scrutiny.”
“If they don’t sell it to Eustace, I don’t see how we’ll track it down,” the sergeant said.
“Presumably there’s no chance of anyone selling anything to the old fella now,” the superintendent added, every word grating on Flynn’s nerves. “Not if you’ve done your job properly, anyway. You did make it clear to him it’s an offence to buy and sell historical artefacts?”
“I told him,” Flynn said, through gritted teeth.
“Did he get the message this time?”
“Yes,” Flynn replied, avoiding eye contact with the superintendent.
“Why’s he so desperate to get his hands on it, anyway?” the superintendent asked.
Flynn decided to take it as a rhetorical question and kept quiet.
“If he’s so desperate for the gold,” he went on, “do we really believe he’s going to hand it in?”
Again, Flynn chose not to respond.
The sergeant shifted in his seat and Flynn willed him to keep quiet, too.
“Eustace believes the gold is cursed,” the sergeant finally said. “He intends to throw it back into the sea.”
Silence hung for a moment before the superintendent’s laughter rang out.
“You have got to be kidding me?” he scoffed. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any weirder around here. Cursed gold! Bloody hell. Policing really is different over here. Is the latest theory that it was the ghosts of long dead sailors who cut the air hose?”
“No one is actually talking seriously about a curse,” Flynn said, hands digging into the counter at either side of him.
The superintendent’s smile fell away. “I’m not sure anyone is serious about anything around here.”
“I’m taking the case very seriously,” Flynn muttered.
“And yet you’re no closer to figuring out what happened,” the superintendent spat, an anger to his tone that Flynn was entirely too used to.
It hit him that no matter what happened, he’d never win the superintendent’s favour and there was no point in even trying.
“That guy, Ryan, seemed very shady, if you ask me,” the superintendent said, crossing his arms. “When he came in demanding a report for his insurance yesterday, he seemed very agitated.”
“You probably would be too,” Flynn growled. “If someone had tampered with your dive equipment while you were on the seabed.”
The superintendent raised an eyebrow at Flynn’s tone. “Have you considered the possibility that he messed with his own equipment as some kind of insurance scam?”
“I’ve considered it,” Flynn said, then felt suddenly uneasy that he’d dismissed the idea so quickly.
“I can’t see how it would be worth it. If he’s claiming for loss of earnings, he won’t be working in that time, so he genuinely will lose earnings, and I can’t imagine the insurance would pay out enough for him to close for very long.
” He shook his head, telling himself his previous instinct had been right. “It just doesn’t ring true. ”
“Do you have any theories that do ring true?” the superintendent asked disdainfully.
Flynn’s jaw tightened as he tried to concentrate. All he could think was that he needed to track down the missing artefact. But how?
His mind went to his conversation with the Trenearys when they’d first been out to the wreck, hoping to find treasure. They’d only been joking, but…
“Maybe they’ll try to sell it online,” he said. “If they want a quick sale, that’d be the easiest, wouldn’t it?”
The superintendent snorted a derisive laugh. “You think someone found an ancient artefact on a shipwreck, then threw it up on eBay?”
“I don’t see why not,” Flynn said. “It couldn’t hurt to check.”
“Okay,” Sergeant Proctor said. “Have a look into it.”
“I can put in some calls,” the superintendent said. “Get someone better qualified to look into this.”
Sergeant Proctor looked thoughtful. “We’re used to dealing with things ourselves,” he said eventually. “I don’t think the situation warrants any extra help. PC Grainger will continue looking into it.”
Flynn strode from the room, keen to get out before the superintendent had a chance to comment on his incompetence.