A Restless Evil (32 page)

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Authors: Ann Granger

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She pushed open the church door and stepped into St Barnabas's cool dim interior for the last time. She saw at once she wasn't alone. A young man was studying the Sir Rufus Fitzroy monument, a tourist, she supposed. He turned his head and smiled at her.
‘Imposing old fellow, isn't he?'
She felt impelled to carry on Ruth's tradition of welcoming visitors. Meredith walked over to stand beside him and looked up at Sir Rufus. ‘He looks a tough old chap to me, too,' she agreed.
‘They were tough days. Survival of the fittest. Just to stay alive you had to be incredibly strong. Disease, poor sanitation, half the food you ate already on the turn, operations without anaesthetic or disinfectants …' He gave another, slightly deprecating smile. ‘I'm a doctor,' he said. ‘I think about these things.'
‘You're not Guy Morgan, are you?' Meredith asked. ‘Who found the bones?'
He looked astonished. ‘Yes. You are—?'
‘Meredith Mitchell. I was visiting Lower Stovey that day with Alan Markby, Superintendent Markby.'
‘Oh, right. Yes, he was there when the other coppers and I came out of the woods with the bones. I'm glad they were able to put a name to them.'
‘I should have liked to attend the inquest, but I had to be at work that day.'
At the mention of the inquest, Guy frowned. ‘The dead chap's mother was there. I wanted to go and speak to her, condolences and all that, but she wouldn't look at me. She avoided my eye in a very definite way, so I left it. I guessed my finding her son's remains was something she found difficult, a real stopper to any conversation.'
‘Alan told me Mrs Hastings was very – well, not happy, that's not the word – that she was satisfied that her son's remains were found. It was a great consolation to her so I'm sure in a way she was glad you did find him. To lose a child must be terrible, no matter how old he is at the time.'
‘I suppose so.' Guy turned his head away and looked up at Sir Rufus. ‘My mother gave me away, but I dare say she had her reasons.'
‘Gave you away?'
‘Yes, put me up for adoption. I expect I was illegitimate. Looking round this church and seeing all these people belonging to one family is odd to me. I don't have any blood relations and I can't imagine what it's like. I've got my adoptive parents and they are my parents as far as I'm concerned. They've been loving and supportive and understanding. No blood parent could have been better. They'd been unable to have children and so saw me as a wonderful gift. I realised, even when I was very young, that I was very special to them.'
Meredith asked, ‘So you've never tried to trace your birth mother?'
He shook his head. ‘No. What would be the point? What would we say to one another? She's made her life without me
and I've made my life without her. Let sleeping dogs lie. Or, as an elderly patient once said to me, “It's best not to go stirring up the water, there's sometimes nasty things lying in the mud at the bottom of a pond.'” He turned to go. ‘Well, I'll be on my way. I wanted to come and look at this place, what with it being in the news after I found the bones in the woods. Give my regards to the superintendent. Nice to meet you.' He shook her hand briefly. ‘Cheerio.'
She watched him walk out, his stocky figure briefly silhouetted against the sunlight in the open door before it fell shut behind him, leaving her alone with Sir Rufus, Hubert and Agnes, and whatever ghosts inhabited this old church.
‘Well, now, Mr Pearce,' said the dentist. ‘We haven't seen you for a while.'
‘Um, no,' said Pearce. ‘I've been busy.'
‘I read about it in the papers. The murder at Lower Stovey. Nasty affair. And that business of the bones someone found in the woods. It's all go with you, isn't it? Are the teeth giving you trouble?'
Pearce's mind, for an instant, scrambled the question so that he almost replied that the teeth had been a clue to the jawbone's owner. But of course, he was here for his own teeth, or particularly, one tooth.
‘I've been having a few twinges,' he admitted.
‘Then let's have a look. Open wide, please, wide as you can … Ah, yes …'
Map of Lower Stovey
Also by Ann Granger
Mitchell and Markby crime novels
Say It With Poison
A Season For Murder
Cold In The Earth
Murder Among Us
Where Old Bones Lie
A Fine Place For Death
Flowers For His Funeral
Candle For A Corpse
A Touch Of Mortality
A Word After Dying
Call The Dead Again
Beneath These Stones
Shades Of Murder
Fran Varady crime novels
Asking For Trouble
Keeping Bad Company
Running Scared
Risking It All
Ann Granger has lived in cities in many parts of the world, since for many years she worked in British embassies as far apart as Munich and Lusaka. She is married, with two sons, and she and her husband are now permanently based near Oxford.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2002 Ann Granger
The right of Ann Granger to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
First published in 2002
by HEADLINE BOOK PUBLISHING
First published in paperback in 2002
by HEADLINE BOOK PUBLISHING
Typeset in Times by Avon Dataset Ltd, Bidford-on-Avon, Warks
HEADLINE BOOK PUBLISHING
A division of Hodder Headline
338 Euston Road
London NW1 3BH
eISBN 9781429974479
First eBook Edition : March 2011

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