The Gold of Thrace (2011)
“The dead man had no identification, no packages, empty pockets, only a label in his suit from a tailor in Savile Row in London that raised the possibility that the corpse was British.
She had to wait until the next day, Monday, before she could call the British Museum and ask for Chatham. She was told he hadn’t arrived yet. She asked when he was expected.
“Last week,” the woman from the Department of Near Eastern Antiquities told her. “He seems to be delayed. We’ve had no word from him....” “It’s him,” she told Dimitar. “The corpse in the newspaper. I’m sure it’s Chatham. How can we claim the insurance without him?” It was bad enough that the locker at the airport was empty, with no sign of the suitcase or the gold, and now this.
“We wait,” Dimitar said, and picked up the paper to read the article himself.
Irena was fuming.MoreLess
She had to wait until the next day, Monday, before she could call the British Museum and ask for Chatham. She was told he hadn’t arrived yet. She asked when he was expected.
“Last week,” the woman from the Department of Near Eastern Antiquities told her. “He seems to be delayed. We’ve had no word from him....” “It’s him,” she told Dimitar. “The corpse in the newspaper. I’m sure it’s Chatham. How can we claim the insurance without him?” It was bad enough that the locker at the airport was empty, with no sign of the suitcase or the gold, and now this.
“We wait,” Dimitar said, and picked up the paper to read the article himself.
Irena was fuming.MoreLess
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