of what they had witnessed to their families and friends, and anyone else who cared to listen.
When they had both signed off, they made their way back to Hawksby’s hotel, where he was waiting for them. This time William was allowed to take a shower, and Monti shaved and brushed his teeth for the first time in days.
Once they’d changed back into their own clothes, they joined Hawksby for lunch. Not that William was hungry. They were just finishing the main course when a waiter approached their table and told Lieutenant Monti there was a call for him, which he could take at the desk.
“Good man, Monti,” said Hawksby, raising a glass after he’d left the table.
“He certainly is,” said William, as he poured himself another glass of wine. “I wonder how Operation Blue Period went?”
Hawksby checked his watch. “It will be over by now, one way or the other,” he said as the lieutenant reappeared and took his seat.
“I can confirm that a wooden casket containing over seven hundred silver cob coins has been handed in to the Italian Naval Office in Rome. A Mr. Carter has produced his authorized stamped license, and is claiming the find as a treasure trove, a Mr. Booth Watson by his side.”
The Hawk and William banged the table with the palms of their hands.
“Mr. Carter was last seen having his photograph taken while chatting to journalists about his remarkable find,” said Monti, as William refilled his glass. “How do you want to take it from here, sir?”
“I’m in no hurry,” replied Hawksby. “The wheels of government always grind slowly, so why not allow the villains to enjoy a few days spending their unearned profits before we let the world know their amazing find is not, after all, worth over seven hundred thousand pounds, but a few thousand at best.”
“And they won’t even get their hands on that,” said Monti, “because we’ll have to confiscate the casket and its contents as evidence in their forthcoming trial, which won’t take place for at least a year.”
13:25 GMT
William and the commander parted company at Heathrow.
“I’ll see you in my office at nine on Monday morning for a debriefing,” said Hawksby. “Have a good weekend.”
For the first time, William felt he was a fully paid-up member of the team.
As he boarded the tube into London, he wondered if Lamont and Jackie had experienced similar success with Operation Blue Period. He considered calling her at home but decided it could wait until the Hawk’s meeting on Monday.
He left South Kensington tube station and headed in the direction of home. But was it home any longer? Would Beth have forgiven him, and already forgotten their first quarrel, or would she have locked him out? And if she had, who could blame her? He was feeling apprehensive as he walked up to the front door, but when he put his key in the lock, it not only opened, but his flowers were in a vase on the hall stand.
Beth came running out of the kitchen and threw her arms around him.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I acted like a fool. Of course I realize you can’t talk about your work, especially if it concerns the Rembrandt. But, please, next time you steal away in the middle of the night, at least phone me and give me a clue when you’ll be coming home. I’ve spent the last three days wondering if you’d left me, and when you didn’t call…”
“I was on a job.”
“I don’t need to know,” said Beth, leading him through to the kitchen. The table was already laid with only the candles waiting to be lit.
“I’ve cooked a special lovers’ tiff meal in an attempt to make up for my appalling behavior. It will be ready in about half an hour, and then I can tell you my news.”
William pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too. In fact I thought I’d lost you.”
He took her by the hand and led her out of the kitchen.
“But we haven’t had dinner yet!” she said as he dragged her up the stairs.
“People have been known to have sex before dinner.”
“Caveman,” Beth said as he began to unbutton her dress.
* * *
William was reading an article in The Guardian—a newspaper he’d never considered taking before he met Beth. He checked the report from their Rome correspondent a second time before handing Beth the paper and waiting for her reaction.
“Wow, over seven hundred thousand pounds,” she said.