Ring of Guilt Read Online Free PDF Page B

own favourite can, a once-lovely Derby one now desperately faded because some idiot had put it in their dishwasher.
    â€˜Sir Douglas alleges you passed him two items that haven’t been recorded on our register of finds, Lina. And he was concerned enough to contact me.’
    â€˜And you were concerned enough to come straight here. So they are precious! Wow! They’re not my period, you see, or I’d have known,’ I added, though whether I was explaining or apologizing I wasn’t sure.
    â€˜Which is why we took them to my old friend Douggie Nelson. Former friend,’ Griff corrected himself bitterly. ‘Why didn’t he ask me?’
    â€˜He said he did, and that you were very vague about the provenance.’
    â€˜It’s hard to be accurate about a load of tat from an auction – the whole lot set me back a pound, Will.’ If he could use my first name, I could use his. ‘The other one came dirt cheap too. I did a fellow dealer a favour and she let me have it for eighteen quid. Cash. Her receipt was pretty vague, though. “Foreign dress ring with beads”, I think it says.’
    â€˜Could I see the receipts?’ He sounded almost eager, as if he no longer wanted us to be criminals. I must say I was quite pleased. Pleased enough to nip upstairs and apply a tiny bit of slap before fetching the paperwork from the office.
    He took first Dilly’s slip of paper, wrinkling his nose but jotting down what she’d written, then the auction one. His face hardened. ‘This just says “Box of sundry kitchen items”. It doesn’t mention a ring.’
    â€˜It wouldn’t. I didn’t know what I’d find when I bought it. Sometimes at house clearances it’s worth taking a punt,’ I explained. ‘What might be absolute tat to you and me could be just what a kitchenalia expert needs. I might cannibalize some old mincer with a few bits missing so a friend can make a killing on a rare item.’
    â€˜Forget mincers. Tell me about the ring.’
    â€˜It was in a screw of newspaper – shoved in to stop the contents of the box rattling.’
    â€˜Did you put it in?’
    â€˜No. But when I found it I examined all the other scraps, believe me! One by one, and then some. They’re all in the recycling bin – from papers going back years before I was born.’
    â€˜So you didn’t think of going back to the auctioneers with it?’
    â€˜I bought a job lot in a box. Let me get it. It’ll be in the recycling bin too. Hell, that sounds like the bin boys now!’
    To my amazement, Will sprinted after me – perhaps he thought he could manage a better turn of speed if anyone needed to chase the lorry. He didn’t even get near me, though, as I grabbed my tatty cardboard from the hands of the lad about to shove the pile of collapsed boxes into the crusher.
    â€˜There!’ I said, unfolding it and pointing to the lot number and label. “Sundry kitchen items, etc.” The receipt left out the “etc”. Does that put me in the clear?’
    Carrying the box and the shreds of yellowing paper I retrieved from our bin, he walked back to the cottage. ‘Legally, yes, I suppose. If you’re telling the truth. But morally – well, what do you think?’
    Despite the cold, I stopped and scratched my head. ‘I don’t know. I think it might depend on how much the ring’s worth. And if I’d known – and as I said, it’s not my period – I wouldn’t have had to go trailing off to Griff’s so-called mate Douggie. Sir Bloody Douglas. Dilly, who knows more about jewellery than I ever will, thought the one I bought from her, which was very similar, was worth twenty. Less, possibly, since she gave me discount. And to be honest with you, I don’t think I’d have gone dashing back to the auctioneer waving a twenty-pound note in my hand. Come on, you know how