The Deadly Game (9 page)

‘It’s unlikely,’ he said. ‘But I just thought I’d mention it.’

And let’s hope that’s true, he said silently to himself. The last thing they wanted was to come up against another Carl Parsons, armed and murderous.

Chapter 13

They drove out to the first site, Jake and Michelle with Robert in the hired car, and Andy with Woody in Andy’s car. As Robert drove, Jake kept his attention on the other traffic around them, slotting into his memory any vehicles that looked as if they might be following them. The first site was a field down a narrow country lane, with barely room to park one car, let alone two.

‘If anyone’s following us, they’re going to have to wait for us back at the road,’ Jake commented.

‘The only car that looked like it was coming after us was that blue Renault,’ said Michelle, taking a trowel from the boot of the car. ‘But it sailed straight past when we turned off down the lane.’

‘It’s still worth remembering,’ put in Robert. ‘If we see it again when we try the second site, we’ll know they’re definitely following us. Did anyone get the number?’

‘I did,’ Michelle said, and she read out the registration plate.

‘Impressive,’ said Jake approvingly.

Michelle shrugged.

‘It’s all part of being an investigative reporter,’ she said, ‘keeping my eyes open and my memory sharp.’

Andy joined them with Woody on the lead, obviously keen to get into action.

‘All ready?’ he asked.

Jake produced the envelope with the old book cover and passed it to Andy, who held the cover under the dog’s nose for it to get a good scent, before returning it to Jake.

‘OK,’ said Andy. ‘Let’s go.’

They crossed a stile into the field Lauren had targeted, Woody and Andy leading the way, Michelle following with the trowel, then Jake and Robert bringing up the rear, each carrying a spade.

They walked along the side of the field, along a narrow earth-trodden path partly covered by nettles and long grass, with brambles snaking through that caught at their ankles as they walked. Jake’s concentration was on Woody as the dog ambled along, nose sniffing at the ground. He was waiting for the dog to stop and show some interest, or excitement, but Woody’s mood didn’t change. He just sniffed all the way along the path to the end, and then along the path to the right that cut across the end of the field. At one point he stopped, and Jake’s heart gave a little leap of hope, but the dog had only stopped to take a pee, and then they continued on again.

They arrived back at the point where they’d begun, having walked completely around all four sides of the large field, and Woody hadn’t registered any reaction, apart from being interested in some of the different natural smells he came across.

‘There’s nothing here,’ announced Andy.

‘Maybe it’s in the middle of the field?’ suggested Jake hopefully, pointing to where the crops were growing.

‘I promised the farmers we’d stick to the perimeters of the fields,’ said Robert.

‘Well, that’s a bit ridiculous!’ snapped Jake. ‘Say it’s out there in the field itself?’

‘Then it’s likely it would have been dug up years ago by a plough or a digger,’ said Robert. ‘Also, if I hadn’t given them that undertaking, they wouldn’t have let us on to their land. They don’t want people walking across their fields ruining their crops.’

‘Maybe the next field won’t have anything growing in it,’ said Michelle.

‘Maybe,’ agreed Robert. ‘Let’s go and find out.’

As they crossed the stile and headed back to the cars, Jake felt hollow. All right, it was asking a bit much for them to strike lucky the first time, but this
was
Glastonbury. If the books were going to be hidden anywhere, there was more chance of finding one here. And Lauren had listed this field as a likely spot.

They drove out of the country lane and on to the road, Jake keeping his eyes open for any sign of the blue Renault Michelle had spotted, but there was no sign of it. In fact, there was no sign of any cars following them during their trip to the lay-by near a path that led to the second field Lauren had listed.

This site was as empty as the first. This field had no crops growing, so they were able to ramble across the whole of it, but despite Woody covering every square metre of ground with his nose pressed to the short grass, he never gave any indication that there was anything to be found.

‘Maybe they’ve been buried too deep,’ suggested Michelle.

Andy shook his head.

‘Trust me, if it was here, Woody would smell it,’ he said. ‘Either it was never there in the first place . . .’

‘Or someone’s already found it and dug it up,’ finished Robert.

Jake felt gloomy as they returned to their cars again.

‘This isn’t going well,’ he whispered to Robert.

‘Two down, still two to go,’ said Robert confidently.

‘Yes, but say we don’t find a book?’

‘Then we try again another time,’ said Robert.

‘Maybe the dog’s got a cold or a blocked nose?’ Jake whispered, shooting a look at Woody; but he knew he was clutching at straws.

He glanced towards Michelle, who was walking ahead of them, chatting to Andy. Jake suspected she was preparing a story for her magazine about sniffer dogs.

‘If we don’t find one this time, I can’t see Michelle spending any more time on this,’ he said, worried. ‘And we need her to publicise it.’

‘You give up too easily, Jake,’ said Robert. ‘Think positive.’

Jake sighed. It was hard to think positive. He’d been so full of expectations when they’d been planning this. He was sure that Michelle was right, that there would be some of the books buried near to the site of the abbey. And Lauren had been meticulous in her research, locating potential sites for the hidden books.

When they got to the lay-by, Jake looked around at the few cars that were parked there. No blue Renault. And none of the other vehicles looked familiar. Which didn’t mean that they weren’t being followed, just that someone was being very careful about doing it.

When they arrived at the third site, it looked the same as the first two. Another large field, this one had maize growing in it, and hedgerows left wild all the way around the outside: long grasses, flowers, brambles and nettles.

This is a waste of time, thought Jake gloomily. We’ve come all this way and we’re going to find nothing.

Once again, Andy held the piece of old blackened leather to Woody’s nose, and then let the dog amble along the narrow track at the side of the field on the lead, nose to the ground and sniffing, with Jake, Robert and Michelle following. As before, Jake and Robert were carrying spades and a trowel, ready to start digging. They’d gone for only about a hundred metres, when Woody stopped, looked up at Andy and barked excitedly.

‘He’s found something!’ Andy grinned. ‘I told you!’

‘Is it a book?’ asked Michelle eagerly.

‘We won’t know until we dig it up,’ replied Andy.

Woody now ran in small circles excitedly, nose to the ground.

‘He’s definitely found something!’ said Andy proudly. He pulled on the lead, and Woody moved back to sit beside Andy, looking up happily at his master as Andy patted him on the head. Both dog and man almost glowed with pride.

‘Right,’ said Jake, and he pushed a stout twig into the centre of the spot where Woody had been sniffing so energetically. ‘Let’s start digging.’

‘One at a time,’ advised Robert, ‘or we could end up getting in each other’s way.’

‘OK,’ said Jake, ‘I’ll start.’

He pushed the spade’s blade into the soft earth with a mounting feeling of excitement. A book! They were going to find a book! Then a niggle of doubt crept in. Maybe Woody had just found a bone. One thing was for sure, they’d soon find out.

Keep your fingers crossed for us, Lauren
, he prayed silently, and turned out the first spadeful of soil.

‘Stop that!’

It was a man’s voice, commanding and angry.

They turned, and saw a tall man approaching, dressed neatly in a tweed jacket and trousers, and carrying a small briefcase.

He reached them, glared at Jake and demanded, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Digging,’ said Jake.

The man shook his head.

‘I’m afraid you can’t do that.’

‘And who are you?’ demanded Jake.

‘Eric Weems, clerk to the parish council.’

‘We’ve got permission from the landowner,’ said Jake. He turned to Robert, who produced the letter of consent he’d got from the farmer and handed it to the man. Weems scanned it, and then handed it back.

‘This letter is from the tenant farmer,’ he said. ‘This land is owned by a corporation.’

‘The farmer said he’d contacted them, and they’d said it was all right,’ said Robert.

Weems shook his head.

‘He may have told you that, but verbal understandings are not lawful,’ he told them. ‘You need written authorisation from the corporation to dig on their land. And even then, digging is only permitted in the field area where it is already cultivated for agricultural use.’ He gestured to the strip of grass and foliage where they were standing. ‘The borders around these fields are protected by environmental and ancient monument legislation.’

‘Which means . . . what?’ asked Michelle.

‘You will need permissions from the Heritage Commission, and the Ancient Sites Executive before you can do any digging in this section of ground. As well as from the local councils, parish and district. And to get those permissions, will require a full judicial review.’

So he’s a Watcher, thought Jake. And a good one, too. No need for protests or barricades, just bring in the bureaucratic jungle of legislation.

Jake saw that Michelle was about to bluster at the man, and he stepped in swiftly, giving Weems an apologetic smile.

‘Our apologies,’ he said. ‘We weren’t aware. We thought the letter we’d been given was authority enough.’

Weems shook his head.

‘It isn’t,’ he said firmly.

‘No, we see that now,’ said Jake, still keeping a genial friendly expression in his face. ‘No problem, we’ll leave . . .’

Michelle turned to Jake, angry.

‘Leave!’ she echoed.

‘We don’t have an alternative.’ Jake shrugged apologetically. ‘This gentleman has pointed out to us that we can’t dig here until we have the necessary authorisations, so that’s what we’ll do.’ He smiled again at Weems. ‘We’re obviously disappointed, but we do understand. Do you have a card or something, so we can get in touch with you when we’re ready to make the applications to dig?’

Weems seemed slightly taken aback at Jake’s compliant attitude, but he recovered. He took a small card from his wallet and handed it to Jake. On it were his name and phone numbers.

‘There,’ he said. Then his manner softened slightly. ‘Thank you for being cooperative in this matter,’ he said. ‘It can be very difficult with so many people searching for things connected with King Arthur. Unfortunately, on previous occasions, I’ve encountered a more hostile attitude. Sometimes it’s even led to my having to call in the police if people have got particularly difficult.’

I bet you have, thought Jake.

‘That’s no problem, Mr Weems,’ he said. ‘We understand.’ He turned to the others. ‘Right, I suggest we head back to the abbey and see what else they might have about Arthur and the Grail.’

With that, Jake set off towards the gate in the fence. The others hesitated, then hurried after him. Michelle caught up with him first.

‘You’re not just letting him kick us off the site as easily as that!’ she demanded, furious.

‘Of course not,’ Jake whispered back. ‘But the last thing we need is a major row. One thing we now know for sure, him turning up like that means we were in the right place. We’ll simply come back later, this evening.’

‘But we won’t find it again in the dark,’ insisted Michelle.

‘I’m not saying we leave it till dark, just the kind of time that Mr Weems is sitting down to his supper.’

‘But say Weems is suspicious and comes back later?’

‘We make sure he doesn’t,’ said Jake. ‘Robert, you know all about planning and stuff.’

‘Yes,’ Robert nodded.

Jake gave Robert Weems’s card.

‘Could you give him a ring at home this evening and keep him talking about what it entails for us to submit our applications to all these different organisations he mentioned?’

Robert grinned.

‘And keep him talking for just long enough for you to dig up whatever’s at that spot?’

‘Exactly,’ said Jake.

Chapter 14

Jake felt a mixture of relief and excitement when they got back to the Grail and Thorn. They’d found the hiding place, he felt sure of it, so now he should be able to relax. But the anticipation of uncovering what lay buried at that spot, maybe finding out that it was just another empty cover and not a book, made him feel sick with tension. He felt so edgy that he knew he couldn’t just sit in the pub with the others, nor would he be able to relax in the room that he and Robert shared.