A Terrible Beauty (24 page)

“No,” he said. “Well, initially, yes, of course. Anyone would be skeptical. Once my initial shock wore off, and I started to analyze the matter rationally, I had grave doubts.”

“But you came to the conclusion he is Philip,” I said. “You told me as much.”

“That is correct. As he did with you, he shared memories of conversations and events from the past that I had discussed only with him. The scar on his leg helped to convince me. But regardless of anything else, I will never believe Philip Ashton to be a thief, no matter what the circumstances.”

“You did not react so strongly to the idea when, a decade ago, I suspected him of having been involved with stealing from the British Museum,” I said.

“No, and when the theory proved incorrect, I realized how unfairly I had treated his memory. I ought to have been his staunchest defender.”

Margaret watched him closely and then looked at me. “If I may be so bold, I would like to suggest that neither of you is the best judge of any of this. You both knew him and shared private thoughts with him, but you also—forgive me—you both have struggled with feelings of betrayal after the two of you fell in love. Guilt may be clouding your judgment.”

“If guilt were guiding me,” Colin said, “I would be unlikely to question his claims. He has accepted our marriage with a dignity not many could muster and has asked nothing of us.”

“Your last point is precisely why I cannot agree with your change of heart,” I said. “If he is not Philip, why on earth is he here? What could he possibly gain by claiming a false identity?”

“Perhaps the scheme was born out of necessity,” Margaret said. “He may have murdered a man in Constantinople and could only escape justice if he adopted a new name—”

“Do not get carried away,” Colin said, studying the bronze again. “I see no point in further delay. Let us go to him.”

 

Philip

Ephesus, 1895

“You must stay completely still,” Reiner said as he cleaned the gashes on his friend's face. “I do not want to get iodine in your eyes.” Philip had only just managed to make it back to camp, his injuries causing him enormous pain, and he had turned to Reiner for help. Fortunately, although he was battered and bruised, nothing was broken other than his nose, and he felt confident he would be able to resume work after a good night's sleep.

“I should never have been on that road so late,” Philip said. “It was as if I had sent an invitation to every brigand in the region.”

“We have had no problems with local crime,” Reiner said. “I would not have thought your actions unsafe.”

“I caught someone on a bad night.”

“Did he get anything of value from you?”

“A little money, but nothing else.” Philip caught himself before claiming the man had stolen his watch, realizing its chain still hung from his pocket. “Apparently he missed seeing I have a watch.”

“He attacked you so viciously.” Reiner said, frowning. “It makes no sense. It is as if he were more concerned with causing injury than robbing you.”

“I would have much preferred simply being robbed.”

“It reminds me of that day in Troy when you were attacked.”

“That was an entirely different matter,” Philip said. “The object of that attack was clear—the man wanted antiquities to sell.”

Reiner looked away. “You were so adamant you had found that bronze and that he stole it. And now this. It makes me wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Philip asked, unwilling to wait, preparing himself for the worst.

“I ought to have believed you,” he said. “I am sorry to have been so skeptical. Maybe you did find something there—your Achilles bronze—and maybe it was stolen from you. And maybe this man tonight attacked you believing you still have it.”

Philip had only an instant to choose his course of action. How much should he tell his friend? He could never admit to the theft, but had Reiner presented him with an opportunity to tweak his story in a way that might solve his problem with Demir? Thoughts flew through his brain, and he processed them as quickly as he could, realizing what he had to say. “I told the truth about finding the piece and stand by my original story. You are correct regarding what happened tonight. The man told me over and over that he wanted the bronze, and that I could expect more suffering in the future if I did not give it to him—all the while kicking me in the abdomen.” He winced.

“The dead man in front of your tent. Who killed him?”

“I have never been able to puzzle that out,” Philip said. “I suspect he was working for someone else, and that he did not give the bronze to whomever it was intended for.”

“But if that person had him killed, would he not have taken the bronze at the same time?” Reiner asked.

“Not if it had first been sold to another party—”

“For a higher price,” Reiner finished. “But finding no evidence of this left the original buyer with the belief you have had the piece all along. Let us return to Troy and try to find out what happened. No doubt he hid his earnings before he was killed. Someone in the village must know something.”

“I fear far too much time has passed,” Philip said.

“Is there nothing that can be done to convince these people you do not have what they seek?”

“I have tried everything, even going so far as to put the word out to black-market dealers. Nothing will convince them.”

“What if we found the bronze?” Reiner asked. “Once we handed it over to these people, that would be the end of the matter.”

“First, how would we ever find it?” Philip asked. “And second, how could we live with ourselves knowing we had put an object so important into the hands of villains, forever away from scholars?”

“We would of course involve the police, who would intervene at the final moment and retrieve the bronze while arresting these thugs.”

“Thank you for believing me, Reiner.” Philip nearly choked on the words. “It means a great deal to me. I wish there were some way to remove myself from this mess, but I fear there is none. I shall leave Ephesus at the end of this season and hope that wherever I go next, I am more difficult for them to find.”

And so he made his decision. He could have agreed to Reiner's plan, without even having to confess to theft. It would not have been difficult to orchestrate a scheme for retrieving the bronze—a series of fictional late-night meetings in Constantinople, an exchange that involved some egregious (and also fictional) amount of money. Philip knew if the bronze were gone, it would be nearly impossible to find it again, but he doubted Reiner would suspect him. Who would not believe one could lure almost anything out of the hands of unscrupulous men by offering the right price?

Yet Philip did not choose this option, and as he sat in his friend's tent, he discovered an astonishing truth about himself: He cared more about the Achilles bronze than about his own well-being. He would prefer to keep hold of it and live with the anxiety and nerve-destroying worry that came from knowing Demir's men would eventually track him no matter where he ran; he would submit himself to violent treatment again and again rather than give up his prize.

There was only one other thing that mattered to him so much. Kallista.

He had been away from her for far too long.

 

17

The sunset had already started to color the sky as Colin, Margaret, and I climbed up to the roof terrace. I stood at the top of the steps, pausing to take in the beauty of the scene—the sparkling water of the caldera, the bright streaks of red and gold smudging the blue heavens—and considered that Hephaestus rather than Helios would likely govern the fiery conversation about to explode.

“I have been worried sick about the two of you.” Jeremy was on his feet and at my side almost before I saw him move. “How are you holding up? I know, Em, you claim to be made of iron or steel or some sort of ridiculous metal, but—”

“Fear not,” Margaret said. “We are both quite well. Sad, of course, but coming to terms with what happened.”

“An awful thing,” Fritz said, offering her a seat. “Poor Kallas. And his wife. We really must do something for her.”

“Yes, quite,” Colin said. “It is particularly distressing given it might so easily have been prevented.”

“I am consumed with guilt,” Philip said. “The villagers were trying to help me. They did not want the man who shot me to escape. If I had not been—”

“If you had not been so dishonest, they would never have been in danger,” Colin said.

“Hargreaves!” Philip fairly flew to his feet and looked at Colin with disbelief. “What can you possibly mean by saying such a thing?”

“I shall make no attempt to prettify the situation,” my husband said. “Explain this at once.” He held the bronze out for all to see. Philip reached for it, but Colin pulled it away. “I shall not let you get your hands on it again.”

Fritz, his jaw slack, rose to his feet. “Is it the Achilles bronze?”

“Indeed,” Colin said. “Can I trust you, Reiner, to look at it without absconding with it?”

“Of course.” Fritz's words sounded almost mechanical as he gently accepted the slim piece of metal from Colin's hand. “Akhilleus …
Das ist ja unglaublich
 … to hold such a thing … to…” He shook his head slightly, as if trying to free himself from the awe inspired in him by the artifact. “How did you find this, Hargreaves?”

“I found it,” I said. “Your dear friend has had it all this time.”

“That is impossible,” Fritz said.

“Ask Lord Ashton if you don't believe me,” I said, glaring at Philip, who started at hearing me address him by his title.

“Ashton?” All the color drained from Fritz's face.

“It is far more complicated than they would have you believe,” Philip began. “Yes, I am now in possession of the bronze, but—” He stopped, sank back into his chair, and buried his face in his hands. “No, I cannot lie anymore.”

“You told us the truth about finding it at Troy,” Fritz said. “Is the lie that you claimed it had been stolen from you?”

“I have carried this guilt for so long I do not know how I shall live without it,” Philip said. His body seemed to shrink and his eyes looked dead. “What I told you in Troy was mostly true. I found it and the man working with me attacked me in an attempt to steal it. We fought, and to this day I do not know how I managed to thwart him. Perhaps Achilles himself fought with me—”

“I will stand for none of that,” Colin said. “Proceed without embellishment.”

“I defeated my opponent, somehow,” Philip said, “but then succumbed almost at once to my own injuries. When I came to, I realized I still had the bronze, which I had slipped into my pocket for safekeeping.”

“You put it in your pocket before the man attacked you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“So you had already decided to keep it for yourself,” I said.

“No, not entirely, although I do admit to being tempted,” Philip said. “After regaining consciousness and finding it still on my person, I—” He stopped and sighed. “I took it as a sign that I ought to keep it, that it was a talisman of sorts, that—”

“That your passion for Achilles mattered to you more than scholarship,” I said. Margaret touched my arm and gripped my hand.

“I am afraid you are all too correct. A madness consumed me, and I decided never to part with the object. The next morning, when I nearly tripped over my attacker's body in front of my tent, I considered coming forward and saying I had recovered the bronze from his corpse, but could not bring myself to do so. I am ashamed of my weakness.”

Colin made no sound while Philip spoke, his eyes dark and bold as he listened.

“Did you not think you might then be in danger?” Margaret asked. “Someone killed the man, and what better motivation for the act than securing the bronze?”

“You make a keen observation, and I confess I did as well, but it did not daunt me. I suspected the man had failed a cruel employer for whom he was supposed to get anything of value he could from the site.”

“But why would the man have told said employer he ever saw the bloody thing? Do please pardon my language, ladies,” Jeremy said. “Why not keep his mouth shut until something else of value turned up?”

“I can only imagine that my reaction to the find made the truly exceptional nature of the piece clear to him,” Philip said. “And, although I can only speculate, I have spent a great deal of time over the past years considering what happened and have come to the conclusion that he had dangled the idea of the piece to someone else, someone he thought might pay better.”

“Whatever happened then is irrelevant now,” I said. “What we must contend with is a stolen artifact that must be returned to the proper authorities without delay. You, Philip, must do it yourself if you are to retain any shred of dignity.”

“Yes,” Fritz said. “We must correct this at once.”

“And in doing so,” I said, “you will remove the threat of danger you have faced for so long. As soon as your nefarious friends learn the object is safely in the hands of a museum, they will know there is no longer any point in pursuing you.”

“I do not think you understand these people, Kallista,” Philip said. “They will find me and destroy me. Prison would offer me no protection.”

“Right.” Jeremy sat down, crossed his legs, and folded his arms. “I must interject, as the lot of you have no ability to view this situation objectively. I can almost exclude you, Hargreaves, from my judgment, for you are free from the passion for antiquities that consumes the others, but your relationship to the accused, if I may call him that, precludes you from being able to separate your emotions from rationality.”

Colin, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, looked at Jeremy in astonishment before turning away from the group. The fact that he was not pacing, as was his habit when faced with a stressful situation, worried me.