Kate Mosse - Labyrinth

– Age?“

“Adult, neither very young nor old. Somewhere between twenty and sixty. They should be able to narrow it down after further tests. The woman the same bracket. The cranial cavity was depressed on one side, which could have been caused either by a blow to the head or by a fall. She had borne at least one child. There was also evidence of a healed fracture in her right foot and an unhealed break in her left ulna, between elbow and wrist.”

“Cause of death?”

“He’s not prepared to commit himself at this early stage, although his opinion is it will be hard to isolate one clearly identifiable diagnosis. Given the sort of time period we’re talking about, it’s probable that both died as a combination of their injuries, loss of blood and, possibly, starvation.”

“He thinks they were still alive when they were entombed in the cave?”

Authie shrugged, although she registered the flicker of interest in his gray eyes. Marie-Cecile took a cigarette from her case and rolled it between her fingers for a moment, while she thought.

“What about the objects found between the bodies?” she said, leaning forward for him to light her cigarette.

“Again, the same caveat, but his estimate is they date from the late twelfth to mid-thirteenth century. The lamp on the altar might be slightly older and is of Arab design, Spain possibly, more likely farther afield. The knife was an ordinary eating knife, for meat and fruit. There is evidence of blood on the blade. Tests will confirm if it’s animal or human. The bag was leather, locally sourced and typical of the Languedoc in that period. No clues as to what, if anything, it contained, although there were particles of metal in the lining and slight traces of sheepskin in the stitching.”

Marie-Cecile kept her voice as steady as she could. “What else?”

“The woman who discovered the cave, Dr. Tanner, found a large copper and silver buckle. It was trapped beneath the boulder outside the entrance to the cave. He’s also dated this to the same sort of period and believes it to be local or possibly Aragonese. There’s a photograph of it in the envelope.”

Marie-Cecile waved her hand. “I’m not interested in a buckle, Paul,” she said. She breathed a spiral of smoke into the air. “I do, however, want to know why you haven’t found the book.”

She saw his long fingers wind round the arms of his chair.

“We have no evidence the book was actually there,” he said calmly. “Although the leather pouch is certainly big enough to have contained a book of the size you seek.”

“And what about the ring? Do you doubt that was there also?”

Again, he did not let her provoke him. “On the contrary, I am certain:he ring was there.”

“Well?”

“It was there, but some time between the cave being discovered and my arrival with the police, it was taken.”

“But you have no evidence of that either,” she said, her voice sharp now. Unless I am mistaken, you do not have the ring either.“

Marie-Cecile watched as Authie produced a piece of paper from his pocket. “Dr. Tanner was most insistent, so much so that she drew this,” he said, handing it over. “It’s crude, I admit, but it’s a pretty good match for the description you gave me. Don’t you think?”

She took the sketch from his hand. The size, shape and proportion were not identical, but close enough to the diagram of the labyrinth ring Marie-Cecile had locked in her safe in Chartres. No one outside the de l’Oradore family had seen it for eight hundred years. It had to be genuine.

“Quite the artist,” she murmured. “Was this the only drawing she did?”

His gray eyes looked clear into hers without faltering. “There are others, but this was the only one worth bothering about.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” she said quietly.

“I’m afraid, Madame de l’Oradore, I took only this. The others seemed irrelevant.” Authie shrugged apologetically. “Besides, Inspector Noubel, the investigation officer, was already suspicious of my interest.”

“Next time…” she started to say, then stopped. She extinguished her cigarette, grinding it so hard that tobacco spilled out in a fan. “You searched Dr. Tanner’s belongings, I presume?”

He nodded. “The ring wasn’t there.”

“It’s small. She could easily have hidden it somewhere.”

“Technically,” he agreed, “although I don’t think she did. If she stole it, why would she mention it in the first place? Also”-he leaned over and tapped the paper-“if she had got the original in her possession, why bother to make a record of it?”

Marie-Cecile looked at the drawing. “It’s surprisingly accurate for something done from memory.” I agree.

“Where is she now?”

“Here. In Carcassonne. It appears she has a meeting with a solicitor tomorrow.”

“Concerning?”

He shrugged. “A legacy, something of that sort. She’s due to fly home on Sunday.”

The doubts Marie-Cecile had from the moment she’d heard about the find yesterday were intensifying the more he told her. Something didn’t add up.

“How did Dr. Tanner get her place on the team?” she said. “Was she recommended?”

Authie looked surprised. “Dr. Tanner wasn’t actually a member of the team,” he said lightly. “I’m sure I mentioned this.”

Her lips tightened. “You did not.”

“I’m sorry,” he said smoothly. “I was sure I had. Dr. Tanner’s a volunteer. Since most excavations rely on unpaid help, when a request was put in for her to join the team for this week, there seemed no reason to turn it down.”

“Who requested it?”

“Shelagh O’Donnell, I believe,” he said blandly, “the number two on the site.”

“She’s a friend of Dr. O’Donnell?” she said, struggling to conceal her surprise.

“Obviously, it crossed my mind therefore that Dr. Tanner might have passed the ring to her. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a chance to interview her on Monday and now she appears to have disappeared.”

“She’s what?” she said sharply. “When? Who knows about this?”

“O’Donnell was at the site house last night. She took a phone call, then went out shortly afterwards. No one’s seen her since.”

Marie-Cecile lit another cigarette to steady her nerves. “Why was I not told about this before?”

“I didn’t realize you would be interested in something so peripheral to your main concerns. I apologize.”

“Have the police been informed?”

“Not yet. Dr. Brayling, the site director, has given everyone a few days’ leave. He thinks it’s possible-probable-that O’Donnell has simply taken off without bothering to let anyone know.”

“I do not want the police involved,” she said forcefully. “It would be extremely regrettable.”

“I quite agree, Madame de l’Oradore. Dr. Brayling is not a fool. If he believes O’Donnell has taken something from the site, then it’s hardly in his best interests to involve the authorities.”

“Do you think O’Donnell stole the ring?”

Authie evaded the question. “I think we should find her.”

“That’s not what I asked. And the book? Do you think she might have taken that too?”

Authie met her gaze straight on. “As I said, I remain open-minded about whether or not the book was ever there.” He paused. “If it was, I’m not convinced she could have got it away from the site without being seen. The ring’s a different matter.”

“Well, someone did,” she snapped in frustration.

“As I said, if it was there at all.”

Marie-Cecile sprang to her feet, taking him by surprise, and walked round the table until she was standing in front of him. For the first time, she saw a flash of alarm in his gray eyes. She bent down and pressed her hand flat against his chest.