'I can't spin,' Linda said in horror.
'You can hold a spindle. But most of the time Simon wants us to wander round amongst the crowd, for you to try to spot Pete or the others.'
'And I hope they're here!' Linda said feelingly.
***
Chapter 4
'The programme's the same as yesterday's,' Eleanor said as she and Linda, with David Evans on Linda's other side, wandered through the crowds already staking their claims to good viewing and picnic spots. 'I wish you had a photo of Pete, then I could be looking for him too. The police didn't find anything at his flat.'
'That's been searched?' Linda asked. Her lingering hope that Pete would not know the police were aware of his involvement died. He'd be even more determined to find her.
'It was searched last night, but there wasn't even a passport, and almost no personal papers,' David told her.
'So he'll know the police have been there.'
'Yes. We don't know if he knew that before or after he left that note for you, but my guess is before, or he'd have worded it differently. I imagine he'd have been occupied for several hours hiding what he took from here. And if he went home while we were there, he might have come back and kept watch on you, seen you with Simon. He might even have been intending to do something then.'
'Take revenge, you mean?' Linda shivered. 'He never came out well in photos,' she went on thoughtfully. 'Not that I took many, just a couple when we were out with some other people. He always moved or turned away at the wrong moment.'
'Or the right one,' Eleanor commented.
'You mean, it was deliberate?'
'Probably. They've checked him out. C.I.D., I mean,' David said. 'He's got a real job, but he had a record of petty theft when he was a juvenile, in Bristol. Nothing in the past ten years, and the last probation report from Bristol was optimistic he'd turned over a new leaf, was studying hard, and applying to colleges. After that no one seems to have known anything.'
'When he was planning bigger thefts,' Linda said angrily. 'It's a wonder he didn't concentrate on computer fraud.'
'Well, according to his previous boss, he's not actually all that good with computers. He's really just a salesman, knows enough to convince the buyers they're getting what suits them, but none of the really clever stuff.'
They walked on for a while, unspeaking, scanning the faces of spectators, and then Linda sighed.
'It's impossible! There must be two or three thousand people here already, and there's half an hour to go before the parade. And I can't really believe he'd be fool enough to come back here. In his shoes I'd get as far away as I could.'
David laughed. 'But you're not a macho crook, and some of them can be amazingly stupid. That's why they get caught.'
'And not because the police are so much cleverer?' Linda asked, grinning.
'We hope we are! I think we'd better go back and get into position for the parade,' Eleanor said, turning round.
'Parade? Me? But I'm nothing to do with this!'
'Linda, for today you are a member of a re-enactment society, and if we stayed out of the parade, dressed as we are, we'd cause comment. All we have to do is walk along with the rest of them. Later we can mix in the crowds, watching again.'
Behind the house several hundred re-enactors were milling about, forming into groups, being marshalled by stewards into the right order for the procession. At the front were eight boldly caparisoned horses, dressed for the tournament, and Simon was mounted on one with the same green and scarlet surcoat he'd worn the previous day. As Linda lifted her hand to wave Eleanor caught it and shook her.
'Don't show you know Simon, it might give you away,' she hissed. 'Pete or the others could be watching round here and they probably know Simon by sight.'
'Sorry.' Linda bowed her head, trying to pull her wimple further over her face.
The participants sorted themselves out, and at last the procession moved off. Linda's group was one of the first, and she and Eleanor, with David still close by, placed themselves in the middle of a group, some carrying pikes, others bows, and many clubs or baskets, and moved off to walk through the arena.
Linda began to enjoy herself. Ahead she could see Simon with the other horsemen, and for the first time she gave a thought to what would happen when all this was over. Pete would be caught, she had to believe that, but would Simon then vanish from her life? How could he, an academic who also bred horses and lived in a minor stately home, have anything in common with her? But she could recall every small thing about him, and knew she would never forget him. She'd imagined she liked Pete, he was good company, but she hadn't even begun to fall in love with him, and she'd never contemplated spending the rest of her life with him. With Simon, however, she'd felt at home.
*
Telling herself not to be silly, Linda tried to distract her thoughts by imagining what life would have been like in the twelfth or thirteenth centuries. The clothes were of wool, and hot. She supposed that this warmth would be necessary in huts or houses with only a small cooking fire, but surely they'd have been difficult to wash, and soon become smelly from sweat, smoke and the odours of cooking. On the whole she thought she was glad she lived when she did.
They had walked right round the house and once out of sight of the crowds the groups were dispersing. Linda stepped aside to watch, admiring the discipline with which the next group, a troop of soldiers, marched along. Several groups, peasants and soldiers and courtiers, passed by, and then came a laughing band of Tudor ladies and gentlemen.
Behind them was the last group, more soldiers carrying long pikes, and as she glanced at them Linda froze.
'That's Pete!' she gasped, clutching Eleanor's hand. 'There, the tall dark one in the last row, towards the far side. And I'm sure that's one of the other men, next to him. How on earth did he get involved?'
'I'll follow him. This lot won't be on till almost the end, the Battle of Flodden, and he could go anywhere,' David said, and moved away from them, seemingly aimlessly.
'We'll go and alert the boss,' Eleanor said, and Linda, speculation racing through her mind, automatically followed.
The police were still using the old dining room in the house. Simon had not wanted extra police cars or an official caravan incident room, for that would publicise the theft, and if the public knew about it the police would have found it impossible to keep gawpers away from the back of the house. There were several plainclothes men and women mingling with the crowds, all equipped with mobile phones, and after Eleanor's report several of these were sent to the living history areas in case Pete had gone there.
'We'll go and see. I know some of them, I'll try to find out how he got involved,' Eleanor said.
'We must tell Simon!' Linda insisted. 'Pete may be after him too.'
'Simon's in the jousting right now, but he'll be told as soon as that's finished.'
Eleanor and Linda walked through the crowds, and despite Linda's urging Eleanor refused to hurry.
'You might give him warning,' she said, holding Linda's arm and forcing her to halt. 'We must behave naturally, and you must watch Simon. He's brilliant at this.'
In the arena they had set up a low fence, and Simon was circling round at one end, a long lance in one hand, shield in the other. Opposite, garbed in brilliant blue and yellow, was another mounted knight.
At a signal the two horses wheeled and raced towards one another, one either side of the fence, lances raised.
'They will try to hit one another,' Eleanor was explaining rapidly, just as the horses came level, the fence between them. 'They have a points system of scoring. Oh, well done!'
Simon was galloping on, lance held aloft, while his opponent carried a much shortened lance.
'He broke it?'
'Yes, and that's a high score. Come on, time to move a bit further.'
Linda would have liked to stay. It had been such a thrill watching Simon triumph, but there were more serious matters to deal with. She followed Eleanor
through the crowds towards the tent areas. Many of these were brightly coloured, flags flying on top, and she recalled seeing pictures in history books of such pavilions.
Eleanor stopped in the shelter of one of them and pulled a mobile phone out of the basket she still carried. Turning away so that this incongruous sight would not be seen, she spoke softly into it, then listened.
'Pete is wandering round the stalls, very interested in the replica weapons,' she reported. 'David's waiting for reinforcements and then they'll arrest him. I'll try and find the people I know while he's safely out of the way, maybe discover who knows him, and whether his pals are here too.'
Linda, worried about Pete's intentions, would have preferred to go to him and make sure the police captured him, but Eleanor pointed out she might frighten him away if he recognised her.
'You have to be discreet, ready to turn away if we see him. Or worse, he might attack you.'
'Not in a crowd. He'd never get away with it.'
'Lots of attacks take place in crowds. They conceal people. He's being watched.'
Linda had to accept Eleanor's advice, but they spent the next half hour fruitlessly asking questions. No one amongst the Tudor soldiers knew Pete, or recognised him from Linda's description.
'We're two groups today,' one of Eleanor's friends explained, 'so there are plenty of people we don't know. We needed to make up the numbers for the battle, see.'
'What now?' Linda asked.
'Back to base, I think, see whether they've caught him.'
The archery display was taking place as they went back to the house, and they paused for a few moments, but both were eager to know what was happening. As they rounded the Great Hall into the Courtyard Simon was coming the other way, and Linda ran across to meet him.
'He's here, in Tudor costume,' she said hurriedly, and Simon put his arm round her shoulders, briefly.
'This armour!' he complained. 'A metal hug isn't exactly pleasant, but I have to keep it on for the battles. Have they arrested him?'
'We're about to see,' Eleanor said, leading the way into the house.
A furious Inspector Stone was shouting into the telephone when they entered the dining room. He flung it down an the table and swung round to them.
'The fools, they let him go!'
'How?' Eleanor asked. 'David was with him, just waiting for some back-up.'
'He went into one of the tents which sold costume, and as Evans reports it, must have slid out between the flaps at the back. They weren't tied down or fixed together. He probably took one of the cloaks, because when Evans realised what had happened they couldn't see any Tudor costumes, only two or three people almost completely hidden by ankle-length cloaks!'
*
'That settles it. You'll stay inside the house for the rest of the afternoon, Linda,' Simon said.
'But I'm the only one who can identify him!'
'And he, as well as the fellow with him, can identify you. They can only have come here in order to find you, prevent you from giving evidence. I want you out of harm's way.'
Before she could argue the Inspector chimed in. 'He's right, Miss, We'd rather get him for theft than murder.'
'You're not likely to get him at all unless I help you.'
'You have helped, you've narrowed the field, and we can concentrate on Tudor soldiers.'
'Maggie will be in the kitchen, and she'll see you have everything you want,' Simon told her. 'I suggest you watch from the bedroom. You can lock that door, and you'll be perfectly safe.'
She protested, but they were all against her. Simon brusquely informed her that he had to get ready for the next event, where he was taking part. Reluctant, plotting how she would escape, Linda permitted him to escort her upstairs.
'Ring for Maggie if you want anything,' he said as he almost pushed her into the room, and before she could reply he had gone.
Linda was thinking furiously. Since various pieces of armour had been stored up in the attic room where she had been imprisoned, it was possible there was other clothing too, which she could use. Simon said he helped various of the societies who used the Grange for events by storing their surplus gear. That was probably where Eleanor had found the clothes she now wore. Impatient, she waited by the window until the footsoldiers and horsemen who were taking part in the Battle of Lewes appeared on the arena. She ought to be able to move around the house unseen now.
Cautiously she opened the door and peered out. Silence greeted her. Sliding out she wondered whether she had to go down and across the Great Hall, or whether there was another way of getting into the oldest part of the house. She recalled the gallery, a Minstrel's gallery, she assumed, across the front of the Great Hall, and hoped there were doors connecting that to the other wings. She'd seen no stairs to it from the Great Hall itself.
It took a frustrating fifteen minutes of opening doors and exploring various passages before she succeeded. A door she'd suspected might be just another cupboard led through into the gallery, and at the far side she saw a matching door. Breathing a sigh of relief she went on, and soon found her way up to the attics. First she tried the one where she had been held, shuddering at the memory, but there was only the armour she'd seen and the weapons.
In the next room, however, she found what she wanted. There were several dress rails, and hanging on them a variety of historical costumes, each, she was thankful to see, with a ticket attached which gave the date. She paused. It was imperative her head was covered, her blonde curls were far too recognisable, so her first plan to dress as a man was difficult. She was considering a monk's habit when her eye was caught by a short, hooded cape. The hood had a long point, but would cover her hair, and there was a knee-length tunic and green hose with it. Late thirteenth century, the ticket said.
Linda stripped off her long gown and the wimple, and struggled into the new garments. The tunic was too big for her, but she was able to pull it tight with the belt. In a cupboard she found boxes of shoes, and chose a comfortable pair of soft leather, ankle height. Now she had to get out of the house unseen.
She decided it would be safer to go through the old wing, as the police were constantly coming and going to their headquarters in the old dining room. With luck, anyone who saw her would imagine she was a witness come to give them some information.
The Battle of Lewes, she'd discovered when talking to Simon the previous night, was well before Tudor times, so Pete was not likely to be involved. But he could be planning to join in the later battle, Flodden. Simon and the other horsemen were in all of them as well as the jousting, changing their armour and other costumes to the appropriate ones of the time, and she was beginning to worry that part of Pete's plan was to injure Simon. He'd probably been watching her flat, and would have seen them together.
Thankful that this older building had very small windows, and dark passages, she went carefully down the stairs, and paused when she heard the Inspector's voice raised. He was haranguing David, she realised, calling him all sorts of a fool to let Jackson slip away from him.
Poor David, she thought, but at least it was occupying their attention. She walked as nonchalantly as she could through into the courtyard, and tried to look preoccupied as she strolled across. Once out of sight she quickened her steps, and made for the living history tents. Pete was most likely to be there, she'd decided, waiting his moment.
The Battle of Lewes was coming to an end, according to the tannoy commentary. She hurried past, glancing across to the arena to see the supposedly wounded and killed soldiers picking themselves up and walking after their comrades. The horsemen had left, and she wondered whether Simon would check on her during the falconry display. Well, it was too late. He shouldn't have treated her like a child.
The Tudor tents were at the far side of the living history area, right up against the field boundary hedge, and as she drew nearer Linda could see modern caravans in the adjacent field. So the participants didn't sleep on the ground as their forebears had, she thought with a
slight smile.
She slowed, looking about her for signs of Pete or his companions. There were several people demonstrating crafts, a young girl at a spinning wheel, a smith at an anvil, a woman dipping rushes into fat to make candles, a man making shoes, two women explaining what was in the dishes laid out as if for a banquet. She stopped to ask if they knew where Pete was, describing him briefly.
She'd seen several women dressed as soldiers, presumably to make up the numbers, so there was no need to disguise her voice. There was no information, though. Linda was standing at the end of the row of tents, wondering what to do next, when she heard cries of alarm and indignant shouts behind her. She glanced up to see a horseman galloping along the path between the tents, and her eyes widened in dismay. She moved hastily out of his path, but he reined the horse to a halt, leapt from the saddle, and tossed the reins to a man standing by.
'Hold him for a moment, if you will,' he said, and Linda recognised Simon, a very angry Simon, bearing down on her. He'd dispensed with his armour, and wore jeans and a tee-shirt.
'You little idiot!' he snapped, seizing her arm in a punishing grip. 'I told you to stay put!'
'And just who are you to give me orders?' Linda gasped, breathless both from his sudden appearance, and the speed with which he was dragging her into the nearest pavilion.
'The police gave you orders too,' he snapped, both hands now on her shoulders. 'But they slipped up letting you escape.'
'How did you know me?' she demanded, her teeth chattering as he shook her.
'The house has security cameras,' he explained, his tone full of exasperation.
'Oh. Then you mean they watched me all the time?' Linda demanded indignantly.
'Yes, while you were in the corridors. They were a bit confused at first, to see someone in a different costume, and I gather all attention was on the Inspector bawling out poor Evans, but they soon realised what had happened, and that was when I arrived there. I guessed where you'd be. Thank goodness you didn't find him. Or is it all a ploy? Are you being planted in the house in case there's an opportunity to get what they had to leave behind yesterday? Are you part of the gang, Linda?'
Theft of Love Page 4
