Flesh and Blood

by Bill Kitson

  ‘Actually, your theory might be wrong. The quest for the Holy Grail might just show Arthur’s real wisdom. Think of it this way, if Arthur and Cerdic had been told the secret by Merlin of where the Grail was hidden, Arthur might have been concerned as to how secure that hiding place was. Those were uncertain times, the Saxon menace was growing, and he would be desperately keen that the Grail should stay safe until the time was right for it to be revealed. In order to test the security of the hiding place, Arthur might well have ordered the Knights of the Round Table to search for the Grail, reasoning that if they failed to discover it, the secret was safe.’

  ‘That’s an exceptionally good, well-reasoned argument, Adam,’ Victoria said. ‘You would have made a good historian.’

  ‘That’s because he’s lived through more of it than most people,’ Eve said, sarcastically.

  ‘What puzzles me,’ Tammy interjected hastily, ‘is why Arthur and Cerdic weren’t persecuted for their beliefs. If they were Christians amongst tribes of pagans, how did they end up becoming such powerful leaders?’

  It was Victoria who provided the answer. ‘If they were as wise as we are led to believe, and by that I mean worldly-wise, I think they might well have chosen to hide their true beliefs, knowing that if they owned up to being Christians they would speedily end up as martyrs. They might even have gone so far as to renounce their Christianity. As a religion, Christianity was in its infancy, remember, and no one at that time could possibly have foreseen what a massive worldwide effect, be it for good or evil, it would have in the coming centuries. It would have been far more pragmatic of them to merge with the local tribes and by their superior skills and weaponry become leaders. Once they had attained that, then few would dare to challenge their authority, or question their beliefs, their roots, or anything about them. As proof that they could well have adopted such attitudes, you have to look no further than the way Cerdic founded a Saxon dynasty.’

  The delay in DS Holmes returning my call of the previous day, gave us chance to discuss matters with Robert, Alison, and the others. Between us we decided it would be best to refrain from telling the police about our latest discoveries.

  ‘You mentioned earlier that we’d probably get locked away if we repeated what Victoria told us about Professor Gladstone’s story,’ Robert said. ‘If we were to go to them now with this tale, I doubt whether we’d ever be let out again.’

  ‘Robbie’s right, Adam,’ Alison agreed. ‘This would be far too much for them to take in.’

  ‘I have to agree,’ Victoria added. ‘The police mind does not readily cope with anything as surreal as this. To be fair,’ she conceded, ‘I doubt whether many people would give such a fantastical yarn much credence. It is far too close to the supernatural for comfort.’

  I bowed to the majority view, and when eventually I was summoned to the phone, confined my discussion with Holmes to what we’d learned about Annie Flood and her family. In a strange way, even this relatively straightforward story underlined Victoria’s comments about the way the police mind works.

  ‘It’s all a bit circumstantial and with little but local gossip and hearsay,’ Holmes commented. ‘Newark is a fair way from here. I would rather concentrate our energy on trying to find a killer who doesn’t have to travel over a hundred miles every time he wants to commit a murder.’

  Had I been of a more sensitive nature I might have taken offence at Holmes’ dismissive attitude, but my years in journalism had thickened my skin. I also made allowances for the pressure he must have been under to get results. Eve was rather less forgiving when I reported the conversation to her. ‘The stupid, arrogant whippersnapper,’ she snarled. Eve does a very good snarl when she’s roused. ‘Doesn’t he realise this is the best lead he’s got? In fact it’s probably the only lead he’s got.’

  ‘I think his problem is that although the Flood connection might establish a good motive for Stephen’s murder, there’s no way he can see how it links to the other two deaths. To be fair, apart from the information we decided against telling him, we couldn’t see a motive for all three crimes. We can now, because we know the immense value of what they were searching for. But as we opted not to reveal that, we can’t really complain if Holmes is unconvinced.’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Eve agreed, somewhat reluctantly. I think her feisty nature was goading her to make an issue of it, but better judgement overcame that desire. ‘What do you suggest we do now?’

  ‘If Holmes isn’t prepared to take the Newark connection seriously, then I guess our only option must be to travel there ourselves and try to find some trace of Annie Flood or her relatives. It might not be easy. We can’t simply walk into the local nick and enlist police help.’

  ‘No, I guess not. The first thing they’d do probably would be to phone the cops here and that would shoot us down in flames.’

  ‘The other problem we have is that if Annie’s maternal family are the ones who remained in Newark, we have no idea what their surname is. It could be Wharton, but we’ve no guarantee that’s a fact.’

  ‘The more I think of it, the more annoyed I am that DS Holmes wouldn’t simply pick the phone up and ask the local force to cooperate. Instead of which we’ll have to trail all the way down there and knock on doors.’

  ‘On the other hand, it might be fun. It will give us chance to be alone together in a hotel where no one knows us. A couple of nights together, it will be a good chance to rehearse.’

  ‘Rehearse? For what?’

  ‘For our honeymoon.’

  ‘Honestly, Adam, don’t you think of anything else except sex?’

  ‘Not when you’re near me, Evie.’

  At one time I’d have got my hand slapped for that remark, but it seemed she took it as a compliment. She had a point, though; it was irritating that Holmes wouldn’t take up our suggestion regarding the Flood family. However, had we not travelled to Newark, and had we not followed up our only lead, the mystery surrounding those deaths might never have been solved. More to the point, had we not taken that course of action, the greater mystery would never have been revealed. Such, as the old saying goes, are the strange paths down which fate leads us.

  Getting away to Newark wasn’t as easy as simply loading the car and driving off. First, we had to ensure that everyone at the manor was fully aware of the need for continued vigilance. I placed the automatic pistol in the care of Frank Jolly. ‘Tony Bishop won’t always be available. He has his job to do, but you’ll be in and around the house more or less full time.’

  ‘Aye, don’t fret, I’ll make sure nobody gets past me.’

  Our next task was to find suitable accommodation. After perusing the AA Book, and following several phone calls, we managed to get a room in a hotel close to the town centre that sounded ideal for our short stay.

  ‘We have to go home and collect more suitable clothes,’ Eve told me. ‘It’s one thing having something that will pass in a private house, but I for one am not going to be seen in public wearing a sweater and jeans. Besides which we need to check to ensure our own house is in order.’

  I remembered that on the last occasion we’d been away from Eden House for a few days there had been a burglary and a nasty attack of vandalism. That had been only a few months previously, but the memory still rankled. ‘I don’t think we’ll have been burgled again,’ I reassured her. ‘That alarm we had fitted will deter anyone who isn’t stone-deaf.’

  ‘I wasn’t just thinking of that. We need to ensure the heating oil was delivered and that the central heating is running OK. If we keep getting cold nights it would be just our luck to get a burst pipe. Added to which there will be mail to see to.’

  In the end we agreed to spend one night at Eden House before travelling to Newark-on-Trent. ‘I’ll have to get used to driving the Range Rover again,’ I told Robert, who had come outside to see us off.

  ‘Is there a lot of difference between your car and Stephen’s?’ he asked, ‘I wouldn’t know, not being a driver.’


  ‘There certainly is. The Mercedes is much more luxurious, but the Range Rover is ideal for the sort of road conditions we get around here in winter.’

  Eve listened to the conversation, but when I stopped by the main gates to allow a tractor to pass, she pointed out that I’d failed to mention the most important thing about the Range Rover. ‘What’s that?’ I asked.

  ‘Have you forgotten that the Range Rover was how we met?’

  ‘How could I? At the time, you were furious, and mistook me for your sister’s chauffeur. I think it was when you were tearing a strip off me that I began to fall in love with you, despite your ferocious glare.’ I risked a quick sideways glance. Eve didn’t look angry now. On the contrary, she looked content, serene almost.

  When we reached home, everything was in order. The oil had been delivered; the house was warm and comfortable. ‘I have to admit, I wouldn’t swap for a manor house or a castle,’ Eve told me.

  ‘Nor would I. To be honest, I don’t care where I live as long as you’re with me.’

  Eve eyed me suspiciously. ‘That’s twice today you’ve made sentimental remarks. Are you feeling poorly, or are you after something?’

  I hastened to assure her that neither of those was the case, which was almost the truth. I mean, I certainly felt well.

  There had been quite an accumulation of mail during our short absence, but most of it was destined straight for the waste bin. About the only item addressed to me that was worth commenting on was a note from my publisher which made me laugh. ‘What’s funny?’ Eve asked.

  ‘I have been asked to speak at a prestigious event, but my publisher, in her wisdom, has turned it down on my behalf.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound very funny. Why did she do that?’

  ‘When I first read it, I thought the event was in South Wales. Then, when I read it a second time, I realised it was in New South Wales. I’m prepared to bet they wouldn’t pay the travelling expenses.’

  Eve chuckled, but resumed her study of the letter she had just opened. I’d noticed the foreign stamp when I passed her it. ‘That looks interesting,’ I commented.

  ‘It’s from Harry; she and Tony are away on a skiing holiday, taking advantage of the kids being at school. She’s worried about them.’

  Eve’s sister, Lady Harriet Rowe, was a born worrier. ‘Which of them is she fretting about?’

  ‘All three, by the sound of it. She’s worried about the twins going to university next year. Reading between the lines, she thinks that Sammy has developed a craving for anything that wears trousers and shaves daily, while Becky seems totally unprepared for life away from home, but her main concern is with Charlie.’

  ‘Why? What’s wrong with Charlie? He isn’t poorly again, I hope.’

  ‘No, it isn’t his health she’s worried about. Harry’s getting her knickers in a twist because Charlie and Trudi are still writing to each other regularly. Added to which, when he’s home from school and Trudi isn’t on tour they talk on the phone for hours at a time.’

  ‘What on earth is there to worry about in that? Trudi’s a very nice, well-brought-up young girl. It’s hardly her fault that she’s a pop megastar. At least Harry doesn’t have to worry that she might be a gold-digger, after Charlie because he’s heir to a fortune.’

  ‘I know that and so do you, but try telling Harry. It sounds as if she thinks Charlie will be getting involved in sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll.’

  ‘Has she met Trudi or her parents yet?’ The family were friends of ours, and it was through us that Charlie had met Trudi.

  ‘No, they were supposed to visit the castle a month ago, but Trudi had to jet off to the States for a TV appearance, and they went with her. Now they’re due to meet sometime over Christmas and Harry is worried that they’ll turn out to be hippies or beatniks, smoking illegal substances and indulging in free love all over the place.’

  ‘Does this rant of Harry’s warrant a reply?’

  ‘I ought to, if only to refute her senseless slurs.’ Eve glanced at the date on the letter. ‘Actually, I could ring her tonight. This letter was posted ten days ago. She’ll be back home by now.’

  ‘Do that, and tell her to wake up to reality for goodness sake. Charlie is a very intelligent young man. He must get that from his father, because his mother is an idiot. Put her mind at ease. Tell her Sammy isn’t going to become a nymphomaniac, Becky isn’t training to be a nun, and Charlie isn’t saving up to buy heroin.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. Shall I tell her you think she’s an idiot?’

  ‘Why not, I’ve already told her once.’

  ‘Really? When was that?’

  ‘When she accused you of climbing into bed with me a few hours after we met.’

  ‘Oh yes, I remember now.’

  ‘Whereas I had to wait much longer before I got the chance. Still, I’m not complaining; the best things in life don’t come easily.’

  ‘Sometimes you say the nicest things, Adam Bailey. It doesn’t happen very often, admittedly, which makes it all the more worthwhile when it does happen. Unless of course you’re doing it simply to get your evil way with me.’

  ‘I wasn’t even thinking of it,’ I protested, hotly.

  Eve turned away as she muttered a reply. If I’d been able to hear it better, I might even have thought she’d said, ‘That’s a shame.’ I dismissed that idea as wishful thinking.

  Being conscious of the social mores surrounding our stay at the manor, we had discontinued our regular practice of having a lie-in when the mood took us. Free from the constraint of politeness, we took advantage of our freedom to be lazy. After a leisurely breakfast, we were on the road by mid-morning. Once we were clear of the narrow, twisting country lanes, Eve asked if I had made any plans for when we got to Newark.

  ‘I went to the trouble of stipulating a double bed, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘Your trouble is that you have a one-track mind. That wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t a dirt track.’ Despite her censure, I could see that Eve was smiling. ‘I meant have you any plans regarding the reason for our visit to Newark.’

  ‘Yes, I thought it might be worthwhile visiting the local newspaper office. There might be someone there who remembers the road accident and they might even recall the family’s details. They’re bound to have covered it, because that’s the sort of human interest story a regional newspaper thrives on. Even if there is no one who remembers the event, they might extend a former journalist the courtesy of allowing me to trawl the graveyard.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘Sorry, that’s journalists’ slang for the archives.’

  ‘Oh, that’s OK, I had a momentary vision of us tramping around from church to church examining tombstones.’

  Eve glanced out of the car window. A few flakes of snow were beginning to fall. ‘It’s not exactly the weather for that sort of thing. One question, though. Is there a newspaper in Newark, or would we have to go to somewhere like Nottingham.’

  ‘There is indeed, an old-established and excellent paper it is too. It’s called The Newark Advertiser.’

  ‘I think that’s a great plan. You do have some good ideas when you can get your mind out of the bedroom.’

  Eve has this knack of making praise sound like a thinly disguised insult. I have enough masochism in me to find it endearing. The snow had all but petered out, and was in places replaced by wet, sleety rain. To distract herself from the drab scene outside the car, Eve turned her attention to the guidebook we had brought from Eden House. She found the relevant section and began to recount the attractions of Newark-on-Trent.

  ‘It sounds like a really nice town,’ Eve reported. ‘There’s a twelfth-century castle, which from the photo looks really imposing.’

  ‘It’s sobering to think that the castle had been built before Domenico and his companions travelled to England.’

  ‘I wonder if he learned much about England during his stay.’

  ‘At a guess, I’d say he
learned quite a lot. Obviously the language would have been a barrier to begin with, but I seem to recall that monks and other members of the clergy, would travel from place to place far more than we might assume. They even took religious relics from place to place in order to encourage local people to worship.’

  ‘I always thought attendance in church was compulsory.’

  ‘No, I don’t think it was. Regular absence would have been frowned on, certainly, and there is no doubt the Church wielded enormous power and influence in those days, but I think commanding attendance at church was beyond even them.’

  ‘So the things Domenico was told would be from other members of the clergy.’

  ‘Not necessarily, there would have been lots of other visitors to the abbey. Travelling merchants would be an almost daily occurrence. In those days shops were virtually non-existent, and even the clergy and those associated with the Church would need provisions of one sort or another.’

  ‘Speaking of churches, Newark has one of the largest churches in England,’ Eve reported. ‘It is the church of St Mary Magdalene, and has an impressive spire that can be seen for many miles. It’s quite close to where we’re staying, near the market place, so I wouldn’t mind looking inside, if it’s open.’ She read a little more of the guide book and told me, ‘There is also a Georgian Town Hall, and Belvoir Castle is only twelve miles away. That’s the ancestral home of the Manners family, the Dukes of Rutland.’

  She paused and then chuckled. ‘Apparently the Normans named it Belvoir, but the locals couldn’t pronounce that so they called it Beaver Castle, and it’s still called that to this day. Newark is also on the Fosse Way, the Roman road that linked Exeter with Lincoln.’ She paused and thought for a moment. ‘I suppose that bears out what you said about people travelling large distances.’

  I smiled. ‘Yes, but in the Romans’ case it was most likely to have been used for troop movements.’