Roberts stepped forwards. ‘You should blame me, sir.
‘I do blame you, Mr Roberts. I blame all of you.’
‘It was my fault. It was my idea. I made them do it.’
‘I recognise your attempt to save your colleagues, Mr Roberts, but it should be said that St Mary’s can well do without senior officers who allow themselves to be so easily persuaded to show such poor judgement.’
‘It wasn’t poor judgement,’ he said hotly. ‘It was the right thing to do.’
‘You stole a priceless artefact and …’
‘It wasn’t stealing. It didn’t belong to Thirsk.’
‘No, it belonged to the owners of the cave, who happily loaned it to Thirsk for investigation and verification. Has it not crossed your mind that you have caused the university considerable embarrassment? What can they tell the owners who entrusted it to them?’
‘They’re not the owners. The sword belongs to the people to whom it was given.’
‘Who are long dead.’
‘Then it belongs to their descendants. Just because a person’s dead doesn’t mean their possessions automatically go to Thirsk for them to pick over like vultures over a carcass. I’m surprised at you, sir. You’ve always said that whatever we discover remains the property of the country in which it was discovered. You’ve always insisted upon it. What’s so different about this? Is it the money? How much did Thirsk pay you to …?’
At this point, both Peterson and Sands said, ‘Shut up.’
He wasn’t listening. The tears were rolling down his face, which was red with emotion. He looked even younger than ever. ‘You’re so caught up in its value and prestige that you’ve forgotten what it means. And the purpose for which it was given. You had no right to take it. You have no right to keep it. You’re no better than looters.’
The silence in the room congealed into something unpleasant.
‘Mr Roberts – you are dismissed.’
To this day, I’m not sure what Dr Bairstow meant by that phrase. Did he keep it deliberately ambiguous? It didn’t matter because Roberts said, ‘No I’m not. I resign,’ spun on his heel and slammed the door shut behind him. Two seconds later, I heard Mrs Partridge’s door slam as well.
Sands spoke into the silence. ‘I resign as well. My notice will be on your desk in thirty minutes.’
He turned to us. ‘Max, Peterson, it’s been an honour and a privilege,’ and then he too left the room.
The pain in my chest told me I’d forgotten to breathe again. My instinct was to fly after them, but neither of them would have thanked me. Roberts, I think, was too emotionally involved to think clearly, but Sands knew exactly what he was doing. Dr Bairstow could now legitimately say that two members of staff had been dismissed over this incident and that those remaining had been appropriately disciplined. It now remained for us to discover what form that discipline would take.
He started with Peterson.
‘I see very little point in continuing to prepare you for the position of Deputy Director. I suppose I should be grateful that your unsuitability for the position has become apparent before either of us has wasted too much time on what has turned out to be a pointless exercise.’
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I turned my head to stare at Peterson. He’d never said anything about this and he must have known what would happen. Wisely, he did not attempt to reply, just staring over Dr Bairstow’s shoulder at the curtains behind him.
On to Markham. He sighed heavily. ‘My fault, I suppose. I was aware of your criminal record when I employed you. I may as well tell you now that Major Guthrie is deeply disappointed by your behaviour. As am I. At his request, I have cancelled his recommendation that I regard you as his imminent successor as Head of Security.’
I’d thought as much. Guthrie had been planning to leave. To be with Grey. And now he couldn’t. Someone else’s future ruined.
Dr Bairstow paused. Because it was my turn now. I lifted my chin and thought furiously about not crying.
‘How could you do this, Max? After everything I said to you last year – how could you do this to St Mary’s?’
I hoped to God that the question was rhetorical because I didn’t have an answer and, even if I did, my voice had fled. I fixed my eyes on him, felt a hot tear run down my face, and somehow croaked, ‘I apologise, sir. I’m truly sorry.’
His face was cold. ‘I wish this repentance had occurred before you actually perpetrated the crime. Before you dragged the professional reputation of St Mary’s through the dirt. Before you jeopardised the future of an organisation to which I have devoted my life. Before you let down your colleagues and disappointed me.’