Page 39 of The Lovers
“How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been hit over the head with an ebony statue,” Quinn replied in a feeble attempt at humor. “I want to go home, Gabe.”
“You can’t go just yet, but I can get you a cup of tea if you like.”
“Yes, please.”
Gabe left and returned a few minutes later with a Styrofoam cup of sweet, milky tea. It wasn’t strong enough, and the Styrofoam gave it a strange aftertaste, but Quinn drank it gratefully. Her mouth was dry, and her tongue felt unusually fuzzy.A sudden unwelcome thought occurred to her as she handed the empty cup to Gabe.
“They haven’t called my parents, have they?” she asked urgently. “I don’t want them to worry.”
“No, they haven’t,” Gabe replied, his tone soothing. “And they’ve secured your house.”
“What?” Quinn asked as she gave Gabe the gimlet eye. “You are keeping something from me.” He had that guilty look that she knew so well.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“If it was nothing, you wouldn’t try to avoid making eye contact with me, like you’re doing this very minute.”
Gabe held up his hands and smiled, caught out. “All right, but you won’t be happy about this. There was a shooting in the village. Completely unrelated to your break-in, by all accounts, but there was a reporter here when you were brought in. He managed to snap a few photos and get the scoop. There might be something in the papers or online.”
Quinn shrugged. This wasn’t nearly as bad as what she expected. “Who in the world would care that my house was broken into? That’s hardly newsworthy. I’m sure there are more important things to report. Who was shot?” she asked, concerned. She often went into the village and knew almost everyone, if only to sayhelloto.
“Some young punk. There was a dispute about a stolen car. He’s in critical condition but is expected to make a full recovery. I don’t think he’s actually from the village. The lads were on their way from London to wherever they were going. The rest were arrested by DI Keane. He came to you straight after they were taken into custody. Busy night for the local constabulary.”
Quinn nodded. Nothing ever happened in their little village. That’s what she loved about it. This was practically a crime wave. Quinn sat up as DI Keane poked his head around the door.
“May I come in?” he asked and entered without waiting for an answer. He sank heavily into the other vacant chair. DI Keane looked exhausted, and no wonder: It had been a long night for him. Quinn felt comforted by his presence. He wasn’t a particularly good-looking man. He was of average height but built like a prizefighter, his broad shoulders and well-muscled arms straining the fabric of his shirt. His hairline was receding, and he didn’t look like the type of man who smiled easily, but there was something solid and warm about him, and Quinn knew that if push came to shove, she’d want DI Keane in her corner.
“How are you feeling, Dr. Allenby? I thought you looked familiar,” he said, shaking his head in wonder. “Didn’t make the connection until someone mentioned that you’d been on the telly. I quite enjoyed your documentary about that Roman soldier. Fascinating stuff. My son is obsessed with anything from that period, so we watched it together. He was very impressed with you, my Robbie.”
“Thank you,” Quinn said, smiling. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
DI Keane nodded, his mind having already moved on to something else. “I’m told you will be discharged come morning. I just wanted to update you on the situation. We caught your intruders. Their mate was waiting for them down the lane in the getaway car, and they were speeding out of the village when they were stopped. All three are minors. We’ve recovered some jewelry and a few hundred quid. Your property will be returned to you after the hearing, but for the time being, it’s state’s evidence. One lad, Jimmy Barnes, sang like a canary when interviewed. He wasmore scared of facing his mother than of going to a juvenile detention facility.”
“Was there any reason they targeted me?” Quinn asked. Her house was somewhat isolated, but she’d never had reason to be scared before.
“As it happens—yes,” the policeman replied. “The lad’s mother kept going on and on about that find down in Mayfair. Thought it was romantic. She mentioned that some items of jewelry were found with the skeletons. Seen it on the telly, I suppose. Seems our Jimmy is quite fond of history, particularly the Saxons, and got the idea in his head that the two skeletons were buried with grave goods which were now in your possession. He thought that if he and his mates got their hands on these items, they could sell them to a fence for a pretty penny. Jimmy didn’t find what he came for, so he grabbed some of your jewelry instead, so as not to leave empty-handed.” DI Keane shook his head in disgust. “He’s the same age as my own boy. They were friends a few years back but grew apart. I know the family.”
“You’re only doing your job, Detective,” Gabe said.
DI Keane nodded and rose to his feet. “Feel free to call me if you find that anything else is missing. I suspect you’ll have to appear at the hearing, Dr. Allenby. Feel better,” he added as he left.
“Grave goods. Fancy that,” Gabe remarked. “I’m almost surprised that a kid like that knows what grave goods are.”
“Ah, the dangers of education,” Quinn quipped.
“Do you still have the brooch and the buckle?” Gabe asked, suddenly worried.
“Yes. They’re in my bag. I couldn’t bear to be parted from them.”
“You’re getting too involved,” Gabe observed.
Quinn smiled guiltily. “I can’t help it. I’ve grown quite fond of Elise.”
“I wish I could see what you see,” Gabe said wistfully. “Will you tell me what happened to her?”
“Once I know the whole story.”
