Golden Relic (34 page)

"Yes," Gould stated categorically, and then looked up, along with everyone else in the room, as
the door was flung open and Dr Maggie Tremaine barged in as if it was a hotel bar.

"
There
you are Sam. I've been looking everywhere for you," she exclaimed.

"Maggie," Sam snapped, as Rigby leapt to his feet, "you can't come in here."

"Why ever not? Hello Haddon, what are you doing here?"

"I'm being interviewed Maggie. Go away."

"Interviewed? What for?"

"Dr Tremaine, you will have to leave," Rigby insisted.

"I've confessed to murdering Lloyd," Gould said, almost proudly. "I'm just explaining why."

"
Haddon
," moaned his lawyer.

"You're explaining why you confessed?" Maggie asked, as Rigby tried to usher her out the
door.

"This is ridiculous," Sam said. "We'll have to do this later."

"No, Maggie, I'm explaining why I
killed
him," Gould persisted.

Maggie started laughing and shook herself free of Rigby's handhold. "Don't be ridiculous Haddon.
Are you mad?"

"Dr Tremaine! I insist you leave," Rigby demanded.

"Oh hush, young man," Maggie snapped. "I can't believe you're taking Haddon seriously. This is
why you can never find a cop when you need one - you're all sitting around interrogating
lunatics."

"I am not a lunatic, Margaret Tremaine," Gould declared.

"
Yes
you are, Haddon. It's one thing to have hated Lloyd for 21 years because of an affair
he never actually had with your wife, but to confess to his murder is completely absurd."

"Mr Gould, we're stopping the interview now," Sam butted in, turning to glare at Maggie.

"No," Haddon declared. "I won't have that woman call me a lunatic without a comeback. We'll do
this now, with her here too, or I won't say another word."

Sam threw up her hands, Rigby collapsed back in his chair and Gould's lawyer dropped his head in
his hands. Maggie and Gould just stared at each other.

"What would you know about Lloyd and Anna anyway, Maggie. And how could you begin to know how
their affair made me feel?"

"But Haddon, they didn't have an affair. Not only was Lloyd completely asexual, that means dear
that he had no interest in sex, but he actually lacked the necessary equipment to do the deed,"
Maggie said. "Although I suspect the latter was the reason for the former," she added
thoughtfully.

"What are you talking about?" Gould demanded, as if Maggie was the mad person in the room.

"Lloyd lost all his important bits in a motorcycle accident when he was 16, Haddon. He
couldn't
have sex."

Haddon Gould looked like a man going through a crisis of faith. The rug on which two decades
worth of resentment had been resting, had just been pulled right out from under him. But he took a
deep breath into further denial and said, "That doesn't mean he wasn't in love with Anna and wanted
to take her away from me."

Maggie closed her eyes and shook her head sadly.

Sam sat back down in her chair, removed an evidence bag and emptied the contents onto the table.
"Mr Gould, are you confessing that because you suspected Lloyd Marsden of having an affair with your
wife, 21 years ago, that you murdered him by injecting him with strychnine using this poison ring
contraption?"

Gould was sucking in deep angry breaths through his nose as he stared at the ring in front of
him.

"Yes, Detective. That is exactly what I'm saying."

Sam scratched her chin and smiled. "I bought this ring at a toy store an hour ago, Mr Gould."

Haddon Gould looked quite perplexed. "Lloyd wasn't poisoned with this ring?" he asked
vaguely.

"You tell us, Mr Gould. Did you murder Professor Lloyd Marsden?" Sam asked.

Gould just sat there turning the plastic ring over in his fingers. "I wanted to," he finally
said. "I could've killed him," he added, as if he really would have been up to the challenge.

Rigby sat forward. "I think you'd better run along home now, sir. Thanks for your time."

"Do we have your undivided attention now Jack?" Sam asked after Gould and his lawyer had left.
"Because we'll need your assistance this evening and we want you to know what's really going
on."

Sam looked around Maggie's hotel suite at the assembled players for the upcoming
charade. She hoped to hell this plan was going to work, because if it didn't she'd have to resign
and go into hiding. Ben Muldoon, Rigby and Rivers were working out the logistics of how their teams
were going to operate; and Louis Ducruet, who Sam had met only an hour before, was still in a huddle
with Pavel. Louis was a tall finely-built and balding man with a snow white moustache, who had
already impressed Sam with his charm and level-headedness. And Maggie had assured her that Louis
would prevent Pavel from going completely overboard. They were all waiting for the Boss to turn up
for his briefing.

"This is nerve-wracking," Maggie whispered.

"Tell me about it," Sam said. "Are you planning any expeditions I can join if this is a
disaster?"

"I have a well-prepared escape route for both of us," Maggie laughed.

"Sammy, can I have a word?"

"Of course, Ben," Sam said making room for him on the edge of the bed.

"I checked out that stuff you wanted. First up, Adrienne Douglas is as clean as whistle, not even
a speeding fine. Barstoc on the other hand is a piece of work. When he was 14-years-old, he was
adopted by Daniel Bridger, when Bridger married his mother. Young Andrew was always a loose canon
but when his mother died three years later, he went right off the rails. He pulled crazy stunts and
was always being picked up for assault and petty crimes. The stepfather kept taking him back until
Barstoc was busted for dealing. Get this, he was selling cocaine from his father's limo to kids at a
local school. That was it. End of story for one of the heirs to what I gather is quite a sizeable
family fortune."

"I assume 'Barstoc' was his mother's maiden name," Sam said.

"No, it was her previous husband's name. She'd been married to a John Barstoc for about two years
before divorcing him to marry Bridger."

"Who was she before that?" Sam asked, casting a meaningful look at Maggie.

"Don't know. I didn't realise you wanted me to check her too," Ben said.

"You don't suppose?" Maggie asked.

Sam shrugged. "He's the right age, same as Vasquez and Escobar."

"That's not all, Sammy. Bridger, the other…" Ben snapped his mouth shut as there was no
point competing with Dan Bailey's noisy arrival.

The Boss entered a room in much the same way as Rigby did, loudly and as if he was always on a
mission. It would be interesting, Sam thought, to see how the two men worked together.

"Okay folks, fill me in," Bailey demanded. "I want to know every little detail and just how
pissed off this whole thing is going to make Daley Prescott, because I guarantee he'll be on the
phone to the Minister before the night is out."

Sam checked her watch. It was 9.30 pm, only two minutes later than the last time
she'd looked, although it seemed like Maggie had gone to get their drinks about three days ago.

Marcus Bridger had hesitated in passing just long enough to ask how her trip to Egypt had been
and then excused himself to attend to someone much more important who was inspecting the entrance to
his show. Sam realised he was revelling in the happy coincidence that the official ICOM '98
welcoming ceremony was being held in the same space as his exhibition, which meant there were close
to 1500 of his peers in spitting distance of his pièce de résistance.

Sam glanced up at the vaulted ceiling of the Royal Exhibition Building and wondered, fleetingly,
about the acoustics of the place. Actually what she really wondered was where the sound of so many
people actually went because, despite the crowd, no one was shouting to be heard over everyone
else.

"Excuse me, Detective Diamond," Vasquez said, approaching with a tall elegantly-dressed man. "I
would like to introduce you to Miguel Richer, the Peruvian Ambassador here in Australia. He is
prepared to vouch for me and all the things I have been trying to tell you."

Sam raised her eyebrows. "Really? Do you happen to have any credentials on you Señor Richer?"

"No, Detective Diamond," Richer laughed politely. "This is a social function."

"I thought as much," Sam said. "I don't mean to be rude sir, but I don't know you from Adam. So
if you'll excuse me," she smiled. "Nice try, Vasquez," she added, as she walked away.

"The next shout is on you," Maggie declared suddenly appearing at Sam's side. "I'm not going back
for love or money." She handed Sam a glass of mineral water and took a swig of her beer. "Louis just
arrived by the way. The rest of the troupe should be along shortly."

"I'm getting worried we're not going to be able to control this situation," Sam said. "There's
too many people, too many variables."

"Don't worry Sam. A good 80 per cent of the people here won't give a damn about 'you know who'
and his tall tales but almost true."

"How can we be sure that our culprit will make his move tonight?"

"We can't be sure, Sam," Maggie said. "We're taking a gamble that he thinks this is the best or
only chance to get his hands on the hand. The hijacking in Paris happened when the security was good
but less than usual. If our culprit thinks there is no security here, he will take a risk -
hopefully."

"Detective Diamond."

Sam swallowed, rolled her eyes at Maggie and turned to face Daley Prescott who stood as neat as
pin in a perfectly tailored suit that was not complemented by the hysterical expression on his
face.

"Good evening, Mr Prescott. The opening function is going very well, don't you think?"

"I don't know, Detective. You tell me. I just met your colleague Detective Rigby who informed he
has officers posted everywhere, and that I was not to worry because everything was under control. I
wasn't aware that things were out of control, until I found out there were policemen
everywhere."

"And women," Maggie offered.

"What?" Prescott demanded.

"There are quite a few policewomen too," Maggie explained.

"I might have known you'd have a hand in this debacle, Maggie Tremaine," Prescott snarled.

"What debacle would that be, Daley?" Maggie asked.

Prescott glared at her and returned his attention to Sam. "The saboteur is at large in the
building isn't he? What are you expecting? A bomb? A hostage situation?" Prescott was sweating.

"Nothing of the sort, Mr Prescott," Sam assured him, as she fought an urge to find a broom closet
to lock him in until the 'debacle' was over. "There is no saboteur. We are hopeful, however, that we
may be able to find and arrest the person who murdered Professor Marsden."

"Here? Tonight? You have to do it here tonight? This is a disaster."

"It will be if you don't stop carrying on like a complete fool, Daley," Maggie snapped. "For
goodness sake, get a grip man, and be quiet. Why don't you go and get a stiff drink or three."

"Mr Prescott," Sam said soothingly, "I assure you our presence and our work here will go
unnoticed. But I have to ask you, please, not to tell anyone we are here."

Prescott rubbed his forehead and eyed Sam and Maggie suspiciously. "I hold you responsible."

"And I accept the responsibility entirely," Sam said.

"Now, do run along, Daley," Maggie suggested sweetly. "Or I shall be forced to create a scene,
right here, just for the fun of it. And it won't be pretty."

Daley Prescott turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd quite possibly, Sam suspected,
to find his own broom closet in which to hide from the formidable Maggie Tremaine.

Sam stuck her finger in her ear to adjust the tiny listening device she was wearing, so she could
actually hear what Rigby was saying. "He's on his way in," Sam repeated to Maggie.

"Ooh, showtime," Maggie enthused. "I'm going to find a better spot. Are you coming?"

Sam followed Maggie around a group of people who were determined to stand their ground near the
bar, towards an area that had been roped off around a large-topped, waist-high pedestal. They
stopped by the third head of Cerberus, beside the entrance to the Life and Death show and
waited.

"
C'est très amusant
," Louis commented as he ducked under the rope to wait for Pavel.

Sam bent her head slightly to speak into the microphone concealed by a brooch on her lapel. "The
show's about to start, don't lose sight of the targets and report any odd actions or even
reactions."

"Sam dear, I think…" Maggie began, but a cheer then the sound of applause changed the
whole atmosphere in the room. The words 'Pavel Mercier' seemed to be rippling through the crowd and
a wide path was forming down the middle of the room as everyone moved aside to let him pass.

"Oh, good heavens!" Maggie snorted. "He's like Moses parting the bloody Red Sea."

Pavel, grinning like a Chesire Cat, was obviously enjoying his resurrection immensely. He kept
stopping to shake hands with people who were saying they were glad he wasn't really dead or they'd
known all along he was still alive. No one was paying too much attention to Ben Muldoon who was
right behind Pavel and carrying his 'treasure' in a plain wooden box.

Sam put her hand to her ear. "Barstoc has just made a beeline for our end of the room," she
whispered to Maggie. "Ditto, Vasquez and Escobar."

"I can see Enrico, he seems to be annoyed with us," Maggie said, nodding to where Vasquez was
standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at them.

"Would you like to deal with him, Maggie dear?"

"Certainly Sam," Maggie replied, and made her way around to the other side of the barrier.

Sam smiled to herself as Vasquez actually stamped his foot at Maggie in indignation.

"Did Maggie know Pavel was alive?" came a familiar voice beside her.