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'I bought it for a song, you k
now.'
And she giggled.
'I think this is the most important find since the King Lear fragment,' she went on happily, clasping her hands to her bosom and staring adoringly at the engraving of the Bard above the mantelpiece. 'That fragment was in Will's hand and covers only two lines of dialogue between Lear and Cordelia. It sold at auction for 1.8 million! Just think how much Cardenio would be worth!'
'A genuine Cardenio would be almost priceless, ma'am,' said Bowden politely, emphasising the 'genuine' bit.
I closed the cover. I had read enough.
'I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mrs Hathaway34—'
'Anne. Call me Anne.'
'Anne. I'm afraid to say I believe this to be a forgery.'
She didn't seem very put out.
'Are you sure, my dear? You didn't read very much of it'
'I'm afraid so. The rhyme, metre and grammar don't really match any of Shakespeare's known works.'
'Will was adaptable to the nth degree, Miss Next – I hardly think that any slight deviation from the norm is of any great relevance!'
'You misunderstand me,' I replied, trying to be as tactful as possible. 'It's not even a good forgery.'
'Well!' said Anne, putting on an air aggrieved indignation. 'Such authentication is notoriously difficult. I may have to seek a second opinion!'
'You are more than welcome to do that, ma'am,' I replied slowly, 'but whoever you consult will say the same as I. It's not just the text. You see, Shakespeare never wrote on lined paper with a ballpoint, and even if he did, I doubt he would have had Cardenio seeking Lucinda in a Range Rover.'
'And what of that?' returned Mrs Hathaway34 angrily. 'In Julius Caesar there are plenty of clocks yet they weren't invented until much later. I think Shakespeare introduced the Range Rover in much the same way; a literary anachronism, that's all!'
We walked towards the door.
'I'd like you to come in and file a report. We'll let you look at some mugshots; see if we can find out who pulled this.'
'Nonsense!' said the lady loftily. 'I'm sorry to see that the LiteraTecs here in Swindon are obviously incapable of recognising a genuine masterpiece. I will seek a second opinion, and if necessary, a third and a fourth – or as many as it takes. Good day, Officers!'
And she opened the door, shoved us out and slammed it behind us. This wasn't unusual. The week before I had almost been attacked when I dared to suggest that a crackly recording of William Hazlitt was certainly a forgery as recording devices were unknown in the early nineteenth century. The annoyed owner explained that, yes, he knew it was odd but it was on eight-track, but even so I had to be firm.
'One born every minute,' muttered Bowden as we walked to the car.
'I'd say. Well – that's interesting.'
'What?'
'Don't look now but up the road there is a black Pontiac. It was parked outside the SpecOps building when we left.'
Bowden had a quick glance in its direction as we got into the car.
'See it?' I asked when we were inside.
'Yup. Goliath?'
'Could be. Think they're still pissed off about losing Jack Schitt into that copy of The Raven?'
'Probably,' replied Bowden, pulling into the main road.
