The Vivero Letter

If he was disappointed he hid it well. 'That would appear to be wise, but I doubt if you will find anything by a mere inspection.' He looked down at his hands. 'Mr. Wheale, I have made you a most generous offer, yet I would like to go further. May I take an option on the tray? I will give you a thousand pounds now, on condition that you let no one else, particularly Dr. Halstead, inspect it. In the event of your deciding to sell me the tray then the thousand pounds is in addition to my original offer. If you decide not to sell it then you may keep the thousand pounds as long as you keep your side of the bargain.'

I drew a deep breath. 'You're a real dog in the manger, aren't you? If you can't have it, then nobody else must. Nothing doing, Mr. Fallon. I refuse to have my hands tied.' I sat down. 'I wonder what price you'd go to if I really pushed you.'

An intensity came into his voice. 'Mr. Wheale, this is of the utmost importance to me. Why don't you state a price?'

'Importance is relative,' I said. 'If the importance is archeological then I couldn't give a damn. I know a fourteen-year-old girl who thinks the most important people in the world are the Beatles. Not to me they aren't.'

'Equating the Beatles with archeology hardly demonstrates a sensible scale of values.'

I shrugged. 'Why not? They're both concerned with people. It just shows that your scale of values is different from hers. But I just might state my price, Mr. Fallon; and it may not be in money. I'll mink about it and let you know. Can you come back tomorrow?'

'Yes, I can come bade.' He looked me in the eye, 'And about Dr. Halstead? What will you do if he approaches you?'

'I'll listen to him,' I said promptly. 'Just as I've listened to you. I'm prepared to listen to anyone who'll tell me something I don't know. Not that it's happened noticeably yet.'

He did not acknowledge the jibe. Instead, he said, 'I ought to tell you that Dr. Halstead is not regarded as being quite honest in some circles. And that is all I am going to say about him. When shall I come tomorrow?'

'After lunch; would two-thirty suit you?' He nodded, and I went on, 'I'll have to tell the police about you, you know. There's been a murder and you are one coincidence too many.'

'I see your point,' he said wearily. 'Perhaps it would be as well if I went to see them -- if only to clear up a nonsense. I shall go immediately; where shall I find them?'

I told him where the police station was, and said. 'Ask for Detective-Inspector Goosan or Superintendent Smith.'

Inexplicably, he began to laugh. 'Goosan!' he said with a gasp, 'My God, but that's funny!'

I stared at him. I didn't see what was funny. 'It's not an uncommon name in Devon.'

'Of course not,' he said, choking off his chuckles. 'I'll see you tomorrow, then, Mr. Wheale.'

I saw him off the premises, then went back to the study and rang Dave Goosan. 'There's someone else who wants to buy that tray.' I said. 'Another American. Are you interested?' His voice was sharp. 'I think we might be very interested.'

'His name is Fallon and he's staying at the Cott. He's on his way to see you right now -- he should be knocking on your door within the next ten minutes. If he doesn't it might be worth your while to go looking for him.'

'Point taken,' said Dave.

I said, 'How long do you intend holding on to the tray?'

'You can have it now if you like. I'll have to hold on to Bob's shotgun, though; this case isn't finished yet.'

'That's all right. I'll come in and pick up the tray. Can you do me a favour. Dave? Fallon will have to prove to you who and what he is; can you let me know, too? I'd like to know who I'm doing business with.'

'We're the police, not Dun and Bradstreet. All right, I'll let you know what I can, providing it doesn't run against regulations.'

Thanks.' I said, and rang off. I sat motionless at the desk for a few minutes, thinking hard, and then got out the papers concerning the reorganization of the farm in preparation to doing battle with Jack Edgecombe. But my mind wasn't really on it.

II

Late that afternoon I went down to the police station to pick up the tray, and as soon as Dave saw me he growled, 'A fine suspect you picked.'

'He's all right?'

'He's as clean as a whistle. He was nowhere near your farm on Friday night. Four people say so -- three of whom I know and one who is a personal friend of mine. Still, I don't blame you for sending him down here -- you couldn't pass a coincidence like that.' He shook his head. 'But you picked a right one.'

'What do you mean?'