rulers, and also there are written accounts of coronations and in all those drawings and accounts there are references to a sword, said to be the Great Sword of England. It’s a primitive weapon, possibly Roman. The best description would be a warrior’s broad sword of no obvious value.”
He flicked through the sheaf of papers and passed them on to Ryan. “I printed this out but the resolution was very low. It’s a contemporary drawing of the Coronation of King Alfred the Great.”
“871,” Ryan interrupted, determined to look as though he knew something.
“Note the sword,” said Todd.
Ryan looked at the engraving, and noted the sword.
Todd handed him another sheet. “William the Conqueror,” he said.
“1066,”Ryan informed him.
“Note the sword,” Todd repeated.
Ryan noted the sword.
“A description of the coronation of King Ethelred the Unready,” Todd said.
Ryan opened his mouth to speak.
“Don’t bother telling us the dates,” Violet said. “We’re all sufficiently impressed with your knowledge.”
No, you’re not, Ryan thought. Despite her soft and attractive appearance, this woman’s mind was sharp-edged, and she seemed determined to cut him down at every opportunity.
“There is little doubt,” Todd said, “that the Great Sword of England formed part of the Crown Jewels up until the reign of King John in 1199. There is no record of it after that date.”
Mandretti turned to Violet. “So what happened to it?” he asked.
“She doesn’t know,” Ryan said. “No one knows.”
Mandretti looked admiringly at Violet. “She’ll find out,” Mandretti said.
“How?” Ryan asked. He turned to Violet. “What is it,” he asked angrily, “voodoo, or psychic waves, or just plain guesswork?”
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” Violet said. She turned her attention to Mandretti. “Did you bring me something Peacock had touched?”
“Yeah,” said Mandretti. He opened the small duffle bag he had carried from the plane and produced the goblet that had so captured the professor’s attention that he had used his dying breath to identify it.
Ryan thought about once again protesting the fact that Mandretti was flying around the countryside with important items of police evidence, but then thought better of it. Everything he knew about Mandretti told him that he would not be interested in Ryan’s protests. He held the goblet in its plastic evidence bag, and then gave Ryan a calculating glance.
“So you don’t trust her?” he said.
Ryan shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know how much you told her in advance,” he said.
Violet sighed deeply. “I really don’t like having to prove myself,” she said, “but if you and I are going to work together, Dr. Ryan, then I will do something I don’t normally do, and give you a small display of my abilities, although I don’t know why I should bother. Michael trusts me, don’t you, Michael?”
“I do,” said Mandretti.
“You have something in your pocket,” said Violet. “Something the professor gave you. Give it to me.”
She held out a small, imperious hand.
Baffled by her request, Ryan dug deep into his pocket and felt the shape of the little stone that had fallen from the pin. He hesitated. How did she know? Was it a lucky guess? He had told no one that he had it and he wanted to keep things that way. He wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t yet ready to reveal what he held.
“You have something,” she repeated.
Keeping his hand deep in his pocket, he unwrapped the pin and brought out the piece of paper that had been wrapped around it. He smoothed it out. It was a scrap of heavy parchment paper, the corner of
He flicked through the sheaf of papers and passed them on to Ryan. “I printed this out but the resolution was very low. It’s a contemporary drawing of the Coronation of King Alfred the Great.”
“871,” Ryan interrupted, determined to look as though he knew something.
“Note the sword,” said Todd.
Ryan looked at the engraving, and noted the sword.
Todd handed him another sheet. “William the Conqueror,” he said.
“1066,”Ryan informed him.
“Note the sword,” Todd repeated.
Ryan noted the sword.
“A description of the coronation of King Ethelred the Unready,” Todd said.
Ryan opened his mouth to speak.
“Don’t bother telling us the dates,” Violet said. “We’re all sufficiently impressed with your knowledge.”
No, you’re not, Ryan thought. Despite her soft and attractive appearance, this woman’s mind was sharp-edged, and she seemed determined to cut him down at every opportunity.
“There is little doubt,” Todd said, “that the Great Sword of England formed part of the Crown Jewels up until the reign of King John in 1199. There is no record of it after that date.”
Mandretti turned to Violet. “So what happened to it?” he asked.
“She doesn’t know,” Ryan said. “No one knows.”
Mandretti looked admiringly at Violet. “She’ll find out,” Mandretti said.
“How?” Ryan asked. He turned to Violet. “What is it,” he asked angrily, “voodoo, or psychic waves, or just plain guesswork?”
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” Violet said. She turned her attention to Mandretti. “Did you bring me something Peacock had touched?”
“Yeah,” said Mandretti. He opened the small duffle bag he had carried from the plane and produced the goblet that had so captured the professor’s attention that he had used his dying breath to identify it.
Ryan thought about once again protesting the fact that Mandretti was flying around the countryside with important items of police evidence, but then thought better of it. Everything he knew about Mandretti told him that he would not be interested in Ryan’s protests. He held the goblet in its plastic evidence bag, and then gave Ryan a calculating glance.
“So you don’t trust her?” he said.
Ryan shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know how much you told her in advance,” he said.
Violet sighed deeply. “I really don’t like having to prove myself,” she said, “but if you and I are going to work together, Dr. Ryan, then I will do something I don’t normally do, and give you a small display of my abilities, although I don’t know why I should bother. Michael trusts me, don’t you, Michael?”
“I do,” said Mandretti.
“You have something in your pocket,” said Violet. “Something the professor gave you. Give it to me.”
She held out a small, imperious hand.
Baffled by her request, Ryan dug deep into his pocket and felt the shape of the little stone that had fallen from the pin. He hesitated. How did she know? Was it a lucky guess? He had told no one that he had it and he wanted to keep things that way. He wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t yet ready to reveal what he held.
“You have something,” she repeated.
Keeping his hand deep in his pocket, he unwrapped the pin and brought out the piece of paper that had been wrapped around it. He smoothed it out. It was a scrap of heavy parchment paper, the corner of
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