Pandora(97)

‘He sounds like Gough,’ Edward says.

Hamilton inclines his head. ‘There are many who share their views. It does no good to dwell on such things when facts stare us in the face. We, as human beings, can invariably be split into two types: those who believe in magic, and those who do not. Can an object really have power over man? Or is it only coincidence that bad things happen around such an object?’

‘I personally feel that the line between coincidence and fate is very thin,’ Edward says stubbornly, and Sir William sits back in his chair.

‘Please, Mr Lawrence, do not make me think less of you.’

‘Did you not just say that you found myth and mystery enticing?’

‘Yes, but the idea of it, nothing more. Reality is often rooted in myth. Helen, Dora’s mother, did not believe in the myth of Pandora’s Box but that did not mean the box itself didn’t exist in some form or other, which is what she set out to prove.’ Hamilton seems to see the frustration building in Edward, and the diplomat gives him a kindly smile. ‘Coombe believed the pithos to be cursed. I do not. The pithos did not cause the shipwreck. Bad weather did. Nor did the pithos cause the dig site to collapse all those years before. Hezekiah did. And Hezekiah was ruled not by an ancient piece of pottery but by greed, pure and simple.’

Edward is silent a moment. ‘At Lady Latimer’s you said you always knew Hezekiah to be a deceitful man. Just now you said he was wily. What did you mean?’

Sir William twists his near-empty glass. ‘Do you remember what Dora said last night? She said her parents and Hezekiah argued in the days leading up to their deaths. All the time, she said, and she was right. I overheard them in their tent.’ Hamilton fills his glass, offers more to Edward who declines.

‘Hezekiah was among the party when I met Elijah and Helen in Naples. I disliked him on sight, but I tolerated him for their sake. I understand Hezekiah sold some of the larger and more valuable pieces they found on their behalf, and they let him run the shop in Elijah’s name on the occasions he and Helen went off on their own. I don’t know the full details. Pride, I suspect, made Elijah reticent in his account of the situation but Helen was a little more forthcoming. She’d suspected for a while that Hezekiah had been selling some of their pieces unlawfully.

‘The arguments Dora referred to were in reference to the pithos. Hezekiah knew they would get more money from it in underhand circles than they ever would if they sold it above board. You see, for centuries smuggled goods have provided a cheap alternative to expensive imports. Taxes on imported goods make many of them costly. But illegal, smuggled goods provide a solution to the problem. Brandy –’ Sir William raises his glass – ‘tobacco and tea prove to be popular commodities on an increasingly popular black-market. And, as we have ascertained, antiquities. Both the Government and the East India Company are hugely worried about the loss of money caused by smuggling. They’ve calculated that three million pounds of tea a year has been smuggled over the last forty years or so, three times the amount of legal sales. If they were caught …’ Hamilton shakes his head. ‘The Blake name was at risk. To be connected with such a thing, even if Elijah and Helen were not directly responsible, could mean their execution. There was no way around that. So, you can understand why Elijah was furious. The night before they died, Elijah and Helen ordered Hezekiah home.’ The diplomat looks at Edward gravely across the desk. ‘As I intimated last night, Mr Lawrence, I think Hezekiah Blake killed Dora’s parents. And I am pretty sure he meant to kill Dora as well.’

Edward swallows the last of his brandy, places the glass down carefully on the desk in front of him.

‘Here, then, is something I don’t understand.’ Edward meets Sir William’s grave look. ‘If you know Hezekiah killed them, why didn’t you report him at the time?’

A pained expression crosses Hamilton’s features. He puts his own glass down before him and sighs.

‘I was afraid you would ask me that. But please, I beg you not to judge me too harshly. I judge myself badly enough. I am thoroughly ashamed.’

‘Sir?’

The diplomat sits back heavily in his chair. ‘When I said last night that I had no proof, that is indeed true. It would have been Hezekiah’s word against mine. But Hezekiah Blake is no fool and certainly did not take me for one, more’s the pity. He and Dora stayed in a hotel I procured for them after the dig was closed. I visited her every day, tried to offer her consolation, returned the cameo brooch Helen had been wearing. Christ, the child was changed almost overnight. A joyful little thing she was, but understandably her grief was acute. She became so quiet, so withdrawn. Dora clung to that brooch as though it were a lifeline.’

Sir William shakes his head at the memory. Edward’s chest constricts. He has seen Dora wear the cameo often, but it never occurred to him what the brooch might mean.

‘How awful for her.’

‘Yes.’ Hamilton hesitates. ‘I noticed some hostility between you and Dora last night,’ he says, and Edward winces, his guilt rising once more.

‘During the soirée she discovered I had been writing about the shop, her uncle’s underhand trading. I tried to tell her that I’d mentioned no names but she would not hear my explanation. I wrote to her yesterday morning but she did not acknowledge my letter. So, when next we saw each other …’