‘Again, not your concern. Don’t waste my time. Will you meet me, or are we done here?’

‘Very well. I’ll agree to your request. Keep talking.’

‘Needless to say, you come alone. You won’t see me when you get to the meeting place, but you can be sure I’ll be watching every move you make. Park your car out front where I can see that nobody else is inside it. Then walk inside, go to the bar and order a pint.’

‘I don’t drink beer.’

‘Then order a glass of wine.’

‘The wine there is paint-stripper.’

‘You don’t have to drink it,’ Ben said. ‘Because you won’t be staying in the pub long. Once I’m satisfied that you haven’t brought along any of your little friends to intrude on our private conversation, I’ll make myself known to you and we’ll go for a spin together in your car.’

‘How nice. Where will we be going?’

‘To the actual meeting place,’ Ben said. ‘We’ll be joined there by my associate.’

‘That would be Miss Kirk.’

‘I’m not the only one who’s been doing his homework,’ Ben said.

‘And then what?’

‘And then we can get down to brass tacks. Or, in this instance, gold ones.’

‘Why should I believe any of what you’re telling me?’

‘You don’t have to. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.’

‘Only your involvement in this matter seems, well, a little perplexing to me. I can’t quite work it out.’

Ben paused a beat. He was venturing even deeper into the realms of fiction here, and couldn’t afford for Stuart to sense the deception. ‘It’s not rocket science, Stuart. Ross Campbell was the one who made the discovery, and told his business partner Ewan McCulloch. Then Ewan’s uncle and I got involved, because of our expertise. Ewan and Ross were a little concerned about security. They had this crazy, weird idea that someone might try to hurt them and snatch the gold for themselves. Imagine that.’

Stuart said nothing, waiting for more.

‘But Ross didn’t trust the McCullochs,’ Ben went on. ‘He thought Ewan was planning on running out on him. So he never told him exactly where the loot was hidden.’

Grace had been listening intently, gleaning as much as she could of the conversation from Ben’s end. Now she frowned, not understanding why he’d said that.

‘Are you saying that you and Ross Campbell dug it up together?’ Stuart asked. ‘Because my sources happen to have informed me that you left your home in France for Inverness just days ago, after Campbell was already dead. Which would then point to a lie. And I don’t truck with liars.’ Charles Stuart, paragon of moral virtue.