‘Us. Or more specifically us working for Paul Marshall. She’s convinced we’ve sold out to him and we’re only in it for the money.’

David raised an eyebrow.

Clare said, ‘Yes, well, I know we need the money. But that doesn’t mean we’ll go to any lengths to get it, does it? Anyway, what she thinks of our ethics is of no consequence. But what she showed me might be.’

He was beginning to lose patience now. Where exactly was all of this leading? ‘What?’

‘It was a screenshot of an Internet auction site selling what they claim is an Iron Age sword.’

David said, ‘So? I’m as opposed to selling antiquities online as you are, but what exactly has this got to do with us?’

‘It came from Bailsgrove.’

‘You’ve seen plenty of those sites, Clare. Half of them give fake locations and the other half are flogging replicas.’

Clare nodded. ‘I know. But there are a good many dealers selling real metal detector finds advertised on the net too. And not all of the vendors are too fussy about how they’ve come by them.’

She glanced down in the direction of the context sheets. David pulled the sheets towards him again and reread them.

He looked up at her. ‘Are you saying you genuinely think the sword could have come from this site?’

‘It’s got to be a possibility, hasn’t it?’

He looked up at her. ‘But you’ve found more than one of these pits.’

‘And according to Sheila Foggarty there’s more than the sword being advertised on the web as coming from Bailsgrove.’

David sat back in his seat and rubbed his forehead. ‘Jesus Christ, Clare. That’s all we need – nighthawks on the site.’

She nodded. ‘I’m sorry, David, but I thought you needed to know.’

‘Yes, of course,’ he replied. But he was barely listening any more. What on earth was he going to do? How could he leave Clare here on her own to deal with this? Anything could happen.

‘What are we going to do, David? We can’t just let them waltz in here and strip the site.’

‘You have no idea what these people can be like, Clare. The sort of people that take finds from excavations haven’t been given a metal detector by their granny for their birthday.’

‘I know that, David. Neil has been telling me about some trouble he had on another site.’

Great. She hadn’t known Neil Fuller two minutes and now he was suddenly the fount of all bloody wisdom. Sometimes it seemed she’d listen to anyone except for him. ‘Look, Clare, we don’t do anything. You tell the police and then you let them handle it from there.’

Clare sat tight-lipped.

‘Promise me, Clare.’

There was a determined look in those hazel eyes that he recognised only too well from their student days.