Page 64 of The Sunken Truth
“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 aroundhere. 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 thatdoring 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.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lily slept fitfully– her mind determined to chew over the dive with Ryan, as though she might have overlooked something vital. After a phone call with Flynn the previous evening, she’d spent some time on the internet, hoping to find someone trying to sell the artefact from the wreck, but came up blank. Flynn’s message late in the evening told her he’d had no luck either.
Finding the artefact would be the key to figuring out who cut Ryan’s hose, she was sure of it.
