never seen a sign of skinheads or other rumbustious gangs. However, something young Priscilla said, just as the gin, plus a poem she insisted on reciting to us, caused her to wash out the party atmosphere with some very embarrassing sobs and tears, has made me think a bit. She said that she is certain Tynant and Saltergate have had a worse row than the one Saltergate had with Veryan, and we know how that one ended up, although it would be libellous for me to make any obvious connection.’
‘He’s made one all right, though,’ commented Laura, ‘but we gave up suspecting Saltergate ages ago, and I thought Bonamy had too. Still, there’s the hint, for what it’s worth. As for the row, I’ve no doubt that Priscilla, the wan little half-portion, is right. There’s so little of her, and what there is is so quiet and unnoticeable, that perhaps she gets to hear things which would not be said in front of other people.’
‘I think you may be right about Priscilla, but I certainly refuse to believe that Mr Saltergate, however bitter his feelings, would stoop to the kind of revenge at which Bonamy hints. We may be able to come to firmer conclusions when we have seen for ourselves how much and what kind of damage has been done. Ring up Holdy Bay and find out whether our hotel can lodge us tonight and tomorrow night. I want to get to Castle Holdy before too much clearing up is done.’
‘Right. I love not to let the grass grow.’ Laura skipped to the end of the letter, folded it and handed it back. She returned from the telephone to report that rooms were available at the Seagull. ‘I suppose business has fallen off since they axed the local railway,’ she said. ‘Are we proposing to look at the castle before we clock in at the hotel?’
‘Certainly. We can lunch on the way down.’
‘Do you think I underestimate young Yateley?’
‘She may not have a head for gin and she may be affected deeply by poetry, especially when she is reciting it, but there is nothing wrong with her brains. So far as I know, she has made only one slip. According to the Chief Constable, she stated to Detective-Superintendent Mowbray that, during the fateful weekend when Professor Veryan died, she joined in some kind of political demonstration. Investigation proved that there were no London marches, political or otherwise, at that time. I wonder why she made a statement which could be disproved by the county police in contact with the Metropolitan branch? I suppose W. S. Gilbert has the answer.’
‘To lend verisimilitude, et cetera?’
‘Exactly.’
Bonamy’s reference to the damage was, as Laura put it, the understatement of the century. Tynant’s outer trench was a gaping, soil-scattered ruin. The pegs he had put in to mark the inner trench had been dragged out and thrown away and a pick and shovel had eliminated all traces of his carefully measured inner circle.
‘Looks as though the Gadarene swine have been out on a bender,’ said Laura. There was more to come, but of a very different nature. Mowbray’s posse, sent to search Goole’s shed and the woods, had found a motorcycle combination in a little clearing. Goole, although hard-pressed by Mowbray, strenuously denied all knowledge of how it had come to be there.
‘And I believe him up to a point, sir,’ said Harrow. ‘I don’t think he would have left it in the open. He’d have hidden it in that shed of his.’
‘But then he couldn’t have denied knowledge of it,’ said Mowbray.
14
Interim Reports
« ^ »
The moon is up, the stars are bright, the wind is fresh and free”,’ said Tom.
‘Meaning what?’
‘Meaning, as Alfred Noyes went on to say, “we’re out to seek for gold tonight”, although not across the silver sea, but in the devastated area which used to be the outer bailey of Holdy Castle. Now that there is no star-gazer on top of the keep and no caravan at the gatehouse, the coast is most beautifully clear and we ought to take advantage of the fact.’
‘I thought you had given up all thought of the treasure. It seems impossible for us to clear the wells.’
‘I’m beginning to wonder whether other people besides ourselves have got wind that there may be something worthwhile among those ruins. I’ve been thinking about the mess somebody has made of Tynant’s trenches and trying to work out who was responsible for it.’
‘Village louts.’
‘There don’t seem to be any. Most of the residents are retired people with sufficient means to buy up the old cottages, convert them and pass a blameless old age adding various amenities to their dwellings, messing about with gardening and, when they want a bit of excitement, walking the dog and cleaning the car or having cream teas at the restaurant.’
‘Then who did vandalise Tynant’s trenches?’
‘Either Stickle and Stour or the two chaps who lost the chance of a job on the site when you and I volunteered to help out. You mark my words. A rumour has gone around. Chaps like Stickle and Stour would never believe that Tynant is doing all that digging just to find an old grave with a few mouldy bones and some bits of broken pottery or whatever. I bet there are plenty of folk-tales about buried treasure at the castle. There must be, or somebody wouldn’t have written that piece in the county magazine. What’s more, they think the stuff is buried in the outer bailey, otherwise Tynant, in their opinion, would be excavating wells, not methodically digging trenches. The point is, you know, they could be right.’
‘Then why hasn’t somebody had a go before this?’
‘Be yourself, man! The castle is on private property. Nobody would have dared to organise a dig for gold without permission, but now our lot have come along and begun the work, so the whole situation, so far as the natives are concerned, has changed.’
‘They’ve still no right to come and ruin Tynant’s work.’
