Page 18 of The Furies

“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Reuben.

“Of course you would. It would also be hypocritical of me. I’ve never stolen from another man, and I’ve never bought anything that I believed had been purloined from another collector. But I have acquired items that I knew to have been found on digs and not reported, including the Two Emperor. It came from the Leominster hoard.”

“I thought as much,” said Reuben.

The Leominster hoard, also from the ninth century, had been uncovered by two British metal detectorists in 2015, at a place called King’s Hall Hill near Leominster in England’s West Midlands. It included jewelry and hundreds of coins, all of which had probably been concealed by a Viking raider who hadn’t lived long enough to retrieve his treasure. Instead of reporting the hoard, which was valued at up to $15 million, the finders had elected to sell it, and were jailed for their efforts. By then most of the contents had vanished, most likely on the black market, although this had never been established conclusively, and the culprits were loath to elaborate on their fate.

Carefully, reverently, Reuben picked up the Two Emperor coin.

“I never thought I’d see one of these,” he said. “Had I been the one to find it, I would never have sold it.”

“I was offered three, and there were more, I’m sure,” said Kepler. “I bought one, because I needed only one. There were others who might have appreciated owning the rest.”

He extended a hand, and Reuben reluctantly surrendered the coin to him.

“What is the most valuable piece in your inventory,” said Kepler, “your life apart?”

Reuben didn’t even have to think about the question.

“An 1875 Coronet Head gold five-dollar half eagle,” he said. “Excellent condition.”

“That’s a two-hundred-thousand-dollar coin,” said Kepler.

“I’ve had offers, but none above one-fifty.”

“I’ll buy it from you.”

“What?”

“I said I’ll buy it.”

Reuben gaped.

“How much?” he said.

Kepler reached into his pocket and withdrew a single dollar bill.

“One dollar.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m really not. You will complete a proof of purchase, I will give you the dollar, and our business here will be concluded.”

“I won’t do it,” said Reuben.

“Then I’ll shoot you. You’ll still have the coin, but you won’t have your life.”

“You’d cheat me, even though I’ve returned what was taken from you?”

“No one is cheating you. Money will change hands. The proof of purchase will be signed. And let me remind you, you have given me only some of what was stolen.”

“I’m not responsible for the rest,” said Reuben. “And two hundred thousand is a high price to pay for an error of judgment.”

“I’m not penalizing you for your flawed judgment, but for lying to me. I think you knew those coins were mine from the moment Egon Towle came to you with them, and you had already been primed by him to acquire them. Towle wouldn’t have risked larceny on this scale unless he had a scheme in place for the disposal of the goods. Admit it, Mr. Hapgood. I’m tired, and my patience is growing thin.”

Reuben had been in business long enough to recognize the difference between a buyer’s market and a seller’s, and right now he was mired in a seller’s nightmare.

“I told Egon I didn’t want to know the source,” he said, “but once he began providing a partial inventory, I knew it was you. After all, I sold you that 1856 Flying Eagle penny.” He gestured at the table. “I remember the nick below the year.”

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