Title: Robin Hood's Bow
Setting: Season 12 of Midsomer Murders / Season 1 of Warehouse 13
Rating: K+
Language: English
Summary: DCI Tom Barnaby and DS Ben Jones of Causton CID investigate the disappearance of a family heirloom from the home of a local aristocrat while American Secret Service Agents Pete Lattimer and Myka Bering attempt to recover the artifact for Warehouse 13.
"Sir Robert Geoffrey, Bart., aged 47," Detective Sergeant Ben Jones explained to his boss. "He was found unconscious here in the drawing room by his wife, Lady Abigail. There was no sign of physical injury, but Sir Robert claims to have no memory of even entering the room. Also, the window shows signs of forced entry and, I quote, 'A priceless family heirloom has been pilfered by some sneak-thief.'"
Detective Chief Inspector Tom Barnaby examined the scene of the crime. It could only be called a drawing room by someone like Sir Robert, desperately clinging to ancestral nobility. Titled, Sir Robert may be, but rich he definitely was not. Jones, Barnaby, and the men from forensics all but filled up the room by themselves. "What exactly was taken, Jones?"
His ever-efficient DS held out a photograph. "A longbow, if you can believe it, sir. He claims, and I quote again, 'This was the longbow of Robert, Earl of Huntingdon, himself,'"
Somehow, Barnaby managed not to burst out laughing in disbelief, though it was a true struggle. He looked at the photo, which did indeed depict a now-missing longbow mounted on the wall of the drawing room. "Robin Hood's bow?" he replied. "Hm."
"I know, sir." Jones's lips crooked in amusement. "Whether or not it actually was Robin Hood's bow, it was definitely an antique and valuable as an historical curiosity if nothing else. There aren't that many surviving longbows from any period, let alone one as early as Sir Robert claims for this bow. If it is as old as he says, it could well be as almost priceless, even without its other provenance."
"Yes, but why take just that?" Barnaby frowned in thought. "It might be the most valuable item in this house, but it would be very difficult to sell, I'd imagine. This was no opportunistic thief. They didn't help themselves even to the cash in Sir Robert's wallet. Just the bow on the wall." He furrowed his brow as he examined the empty wall brackets. "Any forensics, Sergeant?"
"No out of place fingerprints, so the thief likely wore gloves. There are some footprints in the soil beneath the window, but they're not distinct enough to get a proper impression. Possibly more than one, but it's difficult to tell for certain. Forensics is getting prints from the gardener for comparison." Jones checked his notebook. "Scuff marks on the sill, as well, so that was definitely the point of entry. Also, I inquired whether anyone had recently expressed any undue interest in the longbow. Lady Abigail informed me that a pair of American tourists had paid them a visit yesterday and took a tour of the house."
Barnaby raised his eyebrows. "Did she say what they looked like?"
"She said that the man was like a child on a sugar rush and the woman was his babysitter," replied Jones with an amused shrug. "The man couldn't help but touch everything in sight and test his keeper's patience. They may have been casing the home for their return trip to steal the bow."
"Yes, but it just doesn't make much sense to draw attention to yourselves in such a way and then steal a valuable historical artifact. And Americans, no less! They stand out like a sore thumb in Midsomer. It just doesn't add up, Jones," Barnaby frowned in frustration. "Track them down anyway. I want to talk to them."
"What do you mean, you don't have the artifact?" Artie Nielson raised a formidable bushy eyebrow at his snag-and-bag team.
"I mean, Artie, that we don't have the artifact!" Pete Lattimer practically yelled at the face of his boss on the small screen of the Farnsworth.
"Pete, keep your voice down!" hissed Pete's partner, Myka Bering. "Artie, someone stole the bow before we could get in and replace it with our replica," she explained succinctly.
"Yeah, and then we show up just in time to get caught by the homeowner!" Pete exclaimed irately, but lowering his voice slightly to appease Myka. "We had to Tesla him to get out! No doubt the cops are crawling all over the place now. And guess who their first suspects are going to be? The American tourists who scoped the place out the day before!"
Artie looked practically thunderous. Fortunately, he was half a world away and, as far as Pete knew, couldn't actually smack them across the head from the Warehouse. "You two have to find that bow and bring it back to the Warehouse. It could do immense economic damage in the wrong hands. It was sheer dumb luck that it's been perched above someone's mantlepiece for as long as it has."
"Yes, Artie, we know," Myka replied in mollification. "Things could just get a little complicated if we become suspects!" Especially since Pete went and touched everything in sight yesterday, but she didn't say that part out loud. It was pretty much a given that Pete could not keep his hands to himself, especially when on tours or in museums.
Artie rubbed his forehead and grimaced. "This was supposed to be a simple snag-and-bag," he muttered. "All right, do your best to track down the artifact. And do not get entangled with the local constabulary. The last thing we need is for them to get their hands on an artifact."
As DCI Barnaby predicted, it didn't take long at all for Sergeant Jones to locate the American tourists. With the weather such as it was, there were few tourists in Midsomer at this time of year, and it wasn't hard to find the two Americans matching the descriptions given by Sir Robert and Lady Abigail. They were registered in a hotel in Causton under the names Pete Lattimer and Myka Bering.
A conservatively-dressed, attractive woman with curly brown hair answered the door. "Hi," she said in surprise. "Can I help you with something?"
Barnaby and Jones displayed their warrant cards. "Hello, I'm Detective Chief Inspector Tom Barnaby, and this is Detective Sergeant Jones. We're with Causton CID," Barnaby said with a disarming smile. "May we come in?"
The woman inspected their cards critically for a moment before stepping back to allow them inside. "Yes, of course! Sorry." As they stepped past her, Barnaby observed a more casually-attired man sitting at the table, eating a breakfast roll. Aside from the affable expression on his face, he wore a T-shirt and denim.
"This is Pete Lattimer, and I'm Myka Bering," the woman explained. "Pete, these are DCI Barnaby and DS Jones from the police."
The man set down his roll and dusted the crumbs from his fingers before offering his hand to them, a boyish grin covering his face. "I've always wanted to meet an English policeman!" he said brightly. "Real English cops! So, how can we help our cousins from across the Pond?"
Barnaby caught a small flash of annoyance from the curly-haired woman, Miss Bering. "We understand that yesterday you visited the home of Sir Robert Geoffrey."
"Yes, that's right," Miss Bering replied, a slight frown crossing her attractive features. "Why? Did something happen?"
"I'm afraid so," Jones confirmed. Barnaby watched their faces closely as his sergeant continued. "Sometime after you left, someone or someones broke in, attacked Sir Robert, and stole an item of historical value from his sitting room."
"It wasn't Robin Hood's bow, was it?" asked Mr. Lattimer anxiously. "That was so cool! It was the best bit of the whole tour!"
"Indeed it was stolen." Barnaby had a very strange feeling about these two. It wasn't anything he could define or put his finger on yet, but something was decidedly odd about them. "Did either of you notice anything unusual or suspicious while you were there? It might seem insignificant, but anything could be useful to our investigation."
"Are you kidding?" Mr. Lattimer exclaimed in delight. "Myka, we're being interviewed as witnesses! By real English cops! It's like 'Sherlock Holmes'!"
"Pete! Focus!" Miss Bering snapped impatiently. She turned apologetically back to the detectives. "Sorry about Pete; he can be just a little bit childish sometimes," she smiled somewhat tightly.
"Well, I didn't see anything weird, unless you count the creepy gardener dude." Mr. Lattimer shivered extravagantly. "Just hanging around, watching people. Let me tell you, I certainly wouldn't hire him as anything except a gargoyle."
Barnaby and Jones shared a meaningful glance. They had already interviewed the man in question, a particularly sour Welshman named David Cooper, and came to much the same conclusion. As a groundskeeper, he left much to be desired, but no doubt scared away many would-be thieves (and other visitors) simply by merit of his glower. Gargoyle or not, Cooper had been employed by Sir Robert for more than ten years, and both man and wife vouched for his good conduct during that time. "Thank you for your observation, Mr. Lattimer," Barnaby said. "Is there anything else you can remember that might be useful?"
"No, sorry," Mr. Lattimer replied with a grimace. "They distracted me with cookies."
Miss Bering rolled her eyes. "It's always cookies with you, isn't it, Pete?" she drawled.
"Hey, just because you don't eat sugar doesn't mean that I can't, either!" her friend griped right back. "And they were good cookies, too! Lady A is a mean baker, you know," he confided to Barnaby as Jones grinned in appreciation. "Did she offer you cookies while you were there?"
"Oh, yes, she did indeed," Barnaby replied. "Thank you for your help. If you remember anything pertinent to our inquiry, please give us a ring." He handed his card to Miss Bering, obviously the more serious-minded of the two.
"Yes, of course," she said as she accepted the card. "We'd like to help any way we can."
"Oh, yeah, glad you two came by!" Mr. Lattimer exclaimed cheerfully. "It was great meeting you guys! Good luck finding the thief!"
After the two detectives left, Myka rounded on Pete in annoyance. "Did you have to behave like such an idiot in front of the cops, Pete?" she glared at her partner.
"What?" he laughed defensively. "I don't think they think we had anything to do with the theft, which can only be a good thing, Myka!"
"'Real English cops', Pete? Seriously?"
"Oh, come on, Myka, stop being a stick in the mud!" Pete complained petulantly. "And it is a bit like Sherlock Holmes! You gotta admit it."
"No! I really don't!" She pulled the Farnsworth out of her bag and called up Artie again.
"Don't tell me you've found it already, because I know you haven't," their boss all but snapped. Once again, they were (silently) glad that he was far, far away in South Dakota.
"No," Pete replied gleefully, "but we did meet the cops in charge of the investigation!"
"You what?"
"Don't worry, Artie," Myka reassured him placatingly. "As far as I can tell, we aren't suspects. Yet." She shot a glare at her partner, who placidly ignored it.
"Did you manage to learn anything new from them?" Artie asked, controlling his temper with a visible effort, focusing on the important matter at hand.
"One of them said that the thief 'broke in' to the house," Pete observed. "We came in through the side door using lockpicks; nothing was broken, and we were careful not to damage anything, either. By the time we realized the bow had been stolen, Sir Bob came in and we had to get out of there in a hurry. We didn't exactly have the chance to check to see where some other thief may have come in."
"It might have been the window," Myka suggested helpfully. "Someone could have forced it from the outside. But I didn't have time to take a closer look." In fact, the window had been their second choice for point of entry; it offered better concealment, but it was a bit high off the ground for ease of access.
"Okay. Let me repeat what I said earlier: find the bow, but stay out of the way of the police investigation. And, Pete," Artie glared dourly at him, "when you do get the bow, do not play with it. Bag it and bring it back to the Warehouse as soon as possible." His image disappeared abruptly as he severed the connection.
Pete rolled his eyes. "Why does everyone think I'm going to play with it?"