The wording couldn’t have made more impact if it had grabbed Hen by the throat. Embossed lettering on fine, cream-coloured board.
In September, 1987, the skeleton of a mammoth was uncovered on Selsey’s East Beach and excavated by a team from Brighton University, assisted by volunteers. To mark the twentieth anniversary of this notable event you are invited to a reunion barbecue on the section of beach where the dig took place.
Saturday 15 September, 8.30 p.m. Free food, drink, and eighties music.
No reply necessary. To have fun with old friends just turn up.. like the mammoth did.
She now knew why Meredith Sentinel had returned to Selsey for the first time in twenty years.
Heart racing, she snatched up her phone and dialled Sentinel’s number. He answered at once.
‘Hen Mallin, Chichester CID,’ she said. ‘Just read your note. Quite a discovery.’
‘Yes, it answers one question and begs some others,’ he said as if he were talking about an essay topic instead of the invitation that had led to his wife’s death. ‘I thought you should see it for yourself.’
‘You found it among her papers?’
‘A few items I’d overlooked when I went through her belongings last week. She sometimes put letters and such things in a glass cabinet where we keep the silverware. It served as her PENDING tray. After she’d dealt with them she threw them out.’
‘Was the invitation in an envelope?’
‘Not when I found it. She got rid of envelopes.’
‘You’re certain of that?’
‘Didn’t I just explain? I don’t understand why it matters.’
‘Because I need to know who was behind this invitation. It may be crucial to find out. We can get DNA from an envelope. We might get some from the card itself, but the envelope would be better. And the postmark would be useful. There’s no return address or name on the card.’
‘I noticed that. No RSVP. Unusual.’
‘You’re telling me there’s no chance at all of finding the envelope? Not even with a special search?’
‘Sorry to disappoint you. My wife was well organised. She didn’t keep wrappers of any kind. And she made a point of using the shredder.’ The voice sounded smug, as if he enjoyed frustrating the investigation.
Hen let it pass. There was more to prise out from this obnoxious man. ‘How would they have traced her? She’d have been known by her maiden name in 1987.’
‘Through the university, I expect. They have an alumni association. Their magazine publishes news of former students and there are always reunions being organised.’
‘She was in her first year when it took place, you said?’
‘A fresher, yes.’
‘How many other people would have received one of these invites?’
‘How would I know?’
She felt a surge of fury. ‘You were in charge, for God’s sake. You’d know how many were involved in the dig.’
‘Can’t be precise. Anything from twenty to forty.’
‘I’m going to need their names and addresses.’
‘Don’t ask me. I couldn’t even begin to remember. I told you before, they were just willing hands as far as I was concerned.’ His attitude was breathtaking.
‘Where could I find a list?’
‘God knows, all these years later. I don’t suppose one exists.’
She was trying to suppress her annoyance and not succeeding. ‘You told me you published some illustrated articles about the dig. Get them out, please, look at them and see if you recognise anyone in the photos. Where can I get copies for myself?’
‘The university library ought to have them.’
‘Thanks. You must have had one of these invitations yourself.’
‘I don’t recall one.’
‘Come on, Dr Sentinel. You led the dig. It would have been Hamlet without the Prince.’
‘Ha. That’s a point.’ He seemed to enjoy that. ‘But the Prince was missing. I don’t need to remind you I was in St Petersburg at the time.’
‘Or Helsinki.’
‘Er, yes.’ Not quite so bumptious.
Hen played to his vanity. ‘It seems odd for anyone to have organised a reunion without consulting you first about the arrangements.’
‘Going by the wording on the invitation, I’m not surprised. It was my dig, my show, but they don’t mention me by name. I get the impression this was an undergraduates-only event.’
‘They’re not undergraduates any more. They’ll be forty-year-olds with their own careers.’
‘You don’t understand, do you? I was in the senior common room in nineteen-eighty-seven.’
Hen couldn’t see how that made a blind bit of difference. ‘Something else you can do for me immediately after you put down the phone, Dr Sentinel. Look through your own correspondence and see if you can find the invitation to you, preferably still in the envelope. Handle it as little as possible. Get back to me at once and we’ll arrange to pick it up.’
Immediately after the call she announced the breakthrough to the team. Spirits had not been high since the blunder over the body in the pool and it was a huge relief to have a new lead. There was spontaneous applause.
‘The priority now is to get hold of some more of these invitations,’ Hen told them. ‘There could be as many as forty in circulation. Some will have been thrown out by now, but some people keep such things as souvenirs. What I’d dearly like to find is one in its original envelope that we can get forensically tested.’
‘So we discover who was behind it?’ Paddy Murphy said.
‘That would be a start.’
Hen explained about the alumni association and said she would speak to them herself. She asked Gary to check with Brighton University library for articles and references to the mammoth excavation. ‘Don’t get bogged down with the technicalities. It’s the people who interest us.’
Stella said, ‘If I remember, Dr Sentinel said the dig was before the start of term, so he was recruiting anyone he could get hold of, including locals.’
‘Good point. We can go on local radio tonight and ask for help. The listeners are good at responding to that sort of appeal. Would you take care of that?’
‘Absolutely.’
Hen knew it would be done well. ‘One other thing, Stell. When we were searching the beach at Selsey, do you recall seeing signs of a recent barbecue? Blackened stones, ash, bits of tinfoil lying about?’
‘Can’t say I do, guv.’
‘Must have been another section.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘They told us where it was. Paddy, find out the exact place where the mammoth was found.’
The alumni association proved to be the ideal means of contacting ex-students. Once Hen had explained to the secretary who she was and why she needed the information, she was supplied with contact numbers for seventeen archaeologists from the late 1980s.
‘Great. We’ll have some witnesses soon,’ she announced to the team.
In the next hour the incident room resembled a call centre as attempts were made to reach former students. A thumb would be raised in the air each time contact was made.
But the initial response was disappointing. Most remembered the mammoth dig, but hadn’t taken part because it was all over before they arrived for the new term. The third woman Hen managed to contact was more helpful. Like the others she’d missed the dig, but she recalled the name of a friend who took part. Although they hadn’t seen each other in years, she had a phone number.
Hen raised both thumbs.
The woman was home and confirmed that she’d joined in the dig. Her name was Brenda Sutton and she sounded intelligent and keen to help. ‘Yes, I remember the whole thing. It was fascinating. I was so lucky to be part of it because I was reading English, not archaeology. I just happened to be up at the uni early looking for a flat,
