Lake of Sorrows

Safe inside, she turned her attention to the envelope. It was only lightly sealed, and Nora opened it carefully, conscious of the value it might have as evidence. Inside was a black leather cord with three figure-eight knots. Was it intended as a warning, or an accusation? She felt the thin roundness of the cord between her fingers, and knew with sudden clarity that the person who’d killed two people had just been outside the house.

She raised her head to peer through the window once again. Only then did she perceive the shadowy presence behind her and hear the soft whistle that split the air. Her head snapped forward, and the solid world beneath her dissolved, swallowed up in black and blinding pain.

5

“Look, I’ve told you already, I have no idea how that rucksack got into my jeep,” Cormac said. His eyes burned and his head ached from lack of sleep. Detective Brennan had been going at him for nearly an hour. He glanced up at Detective Ward, sitting silently by Brennan’s side, arms crossed over his chest.

“Why would I have opened the car if I’d known the girl’s rucksack was in there? It doesn’t make sense. We’re wasting time here, going around in circles.”

“So tell me something new,” Brennan said.

Cormac said, “All right. I think Ursula Downes was murdered over buried treasure.” Silence greeted his pronouncement; not a good sign.

“And why would you think that?” Brennan finally asked.

“I think she suspected—as a lot of people did—that not all the items in the Loughnabrone hoard had been turned over to the National Museum.” Cormac detected a subtle movement in the chair beside her, perhaps no more than a blink, but he knew that the idea had piqued Ward’s interest.

“Go on,” Ward said.

“But I think Ursula found some proof that there were items in the hoard never accounted for. I don’t know that much,” Cormac said, “but I’ll tell you what I do know.” And so he told them everything, about the drawing Ursula had apparently left in one of his books, about the similar one Nora had found in Charlie Brazil’s shed, about the letter Rachel Briscoe had left in Nora’s car, and his theory about her true identity. He carried on, despite the skeptical turn of their lips, the doubt in their eyes.

“You think Ursula Downes thought she’d found proof of a gold collar found at Loughnabrone?” Brennan asked.

“Yes. I don’t know who she thought was in possession of it. And I don’t know who she might have been working with—Charlie Brazil clearly has some connection, since he has a number of similar drawings. I think Ursula may have been carrying on an affair with Owen Cadogan. There’s nothing to say he was involved in the sale of illegal antiquities, but he’d have better connections in the right places than most of the men who work for him.”

Ward said, “Let me ask you, Dr. Maguire—if you believed these drawings to be so significant, why did you not bring them forward earlier?”

“It was a question of provenance,” Cormac said. “People would want to know where I’d got my hands on them. Plus, there was no way of knowing whether the collar really existed or whether someone just made it up. All the same, if it is real, then it would be incentive enough for murder.”

“How much incentive?” Brennan asked.

“You mean how much would something like that be worth?” Cormac shrugged. “Hard to say—whatever the market will bear. And when you’re talking about one-of-a-kind ancient gold objects on the black market, it’ll bear a lot.”

“So why should we believe your version of this story?” Brennan asked. “Why shouldn’t we just flip the whole thing back to front? You found proof of the collar, and Ursula tried to get a share of the selling price, so you killed her. And then killed Rachel Briscoe because she’d seen you that night at Ursula’s house.”

“Even assuming that were the case, why would I tell you about the collar? Why would I not just keep mum? Take me home right now, and I’ll show you the drawings if you don’t believe me.”

Ward and Brennan exchanged a glance; then they both stood up to leave the interview room.

“What’s happening?” Cormac asked. “Where are you going?”

“We’ll be back in a moment, Dr. Maguire,” Ward said. “I just want a quick word with Detective Brennan. Can we get you anything?”

“No, thanks.” When the detectives had left the room, he let his eyes wander around the stark space. If only he and Nora had been able to make more progress on the details surrounding Ursula’s death: her interest in Danny Brazil’s murder, the collar. He hoped Nora wasn’t up to anything rash, trying to get him out of this jam. They wouldn’t be able to hold him forever; they’d eventually have to either charge him or let him go. Surely she would see that. But somehow he didn’t feel overwhelming confidence on that point.