‘Oh, right,’ Morton mumbled, feeling stupid at being foiled by the old battle-axe once again.
‘Sorry,’ Oliver said, making his way towards them. ‘I didn’t catch the whole conversation and I expect my colleague here has already advised this,’ he said, with a deferential nod towards Miss Latimer, ‘but have you tried the Sussex Weekly Advertiser? It might just be mentioned in there. Other than that, there isn’t much, I’m afraid.’
Morton went to answer and to thank Oliver for his time when his mobile’s shrill ringtone began shredding the silence of the room like a tornado. As if he needed any further attention drawing to him. Morton mumbled his apologies as he grappled in his pocket for the phone, fully aware of the admonishing stares that he was receiving from all around the room. He finally released his phone and muted the awful sound. The caller’s ID continued to flash onscreen: Jenny Greenwood. He deliberated momentarily over whether or not to answer the call and he decided that it was worth the inevitable telling off.
‘Hello?’ he said quietly.
‘Hi, Morton! It’s Jenny Greenwood here—so lovely to hear from you. How are things with you?’
‘Okay, although I can’t talk at the moment; I’m at The Keep and you’re getting me into trouble with Deidre,’ he said with a pointed laugh at Miss Latimer. He knew that she hated it when he used her Christian name.
Miss Latimer scowled and shook her head. ‘You’re not allowed mobiles in here,’ she called loudly. ‘Switch it off.’
‘Oh, put the silly old devil on to me,’ Jenny said with a giggle.
Morton took the phone away from his ear and offered it to Miss Latimer. ‘Jenny Greenwood. She wants to speak to you.’
He had definitely just scored a goal against Miss Latimer; he watched as she pressed the phone tightly to her ear and tucked her head down like a timid mouse. ‘No, not any trouble,’ were the only words Morton managed to catch before she turned away and lowered her voice to such inaudibility that he could only catch scraps of the conversation.
Moments later, Miss Latimer thrust his phone back then stormed off behind the counter.
‘Hello?’ Morton said, checking that Jenny was still there.
‘Hi, Morton. I’ve told Deidre to be nice to you—is she being?’
‘Oh yes,’ Morton answered. The nicest thing that Deidre Latimer could be was out of his presence.
‘Jolly good. Now, you’ve got something you’d like to show Jon, have you?’ Jenny asked.
‘Yes, if that’s okay,’ Morton replied tentatively.
‘Absolutely, he’d be delighted. What say you drop in on your way home this afternoon? We’re just at home pottering.’
‘If you’re sure, then that would be great.’
‘Lovely—see you in a while.’
When Morton ended the call there was thankfully still no sign of Miss Latimer. He returned to his seat and packed up his things.
‘Thank you for all your help today,’ Morton said to Oliver, as he prepared to leave the Reference Room.
‘You’re welcome—hope to see you again here sometime,’ Oliver responded with a smile, as he pressed the release button for Morton to exit.
From his position in the back corner of the Reference Room, Kevin Addison had watched with a smirk as an altercation had taken place between Morton Farrier and the woman behind the desk. When Morton had turned to leave, Kevin raised the book that he had randomly selected from the nearby shelves and hid his face. He had already confirmed that Morton was carrying the indentures with him that he had been sent to procure. Liz Seymour had been unequivocal in her instruction that the documents be seized at all costs. It was rare that she issued him instructions these days and even rarer for her to use the words at all costs. He knew, though, from past dealings that those words were his carte blanche to do anything in order to achieve his aim.
Entering the Reading Room, Morton headed directly to one of the digital microfilm readers and set down his belongings. Knowing that most of the microfilmed newspapers for East Sussex were located in the metal cabinets behind him, he wasted no time looking through the indexes and instead began to quickly check the drawer labels. The last one held the early editions of the Sussex Weekly Advertiser and Morton pulled it open and located the relevant box. Hurrying back to his desk, he loaded the film onto the reader and began scooting through to the edition for 4th May and began to carefully scrutinise it. On page three, a headline in capital letters drew his attention and he knew that he had found the story:
HORRID MURDER OUTSIDE HASTINGS
Hastings—On land just outside of Hastings, Sussex, has recently been the scene of a horrible murder. On Friday last, about 4 o’clock, a publican’s widow of the name of Eliza Lovekin, forty-one years of age was found to have been gruesomely murdered. The deceased, who had continued to run a gin palace called the Black Horse following her husband’s death, had been repeatedly stabbed in the back whilst she slept. Deceased was found by Christopher Elphick, who raised the alarm and went to fetch William Selby Lowndes, Esq., a Magistrate. Information was also sent to the parish constables, W. Lorraine Blythe Esq. and Major Mansel, who with great promptitude arrived at the scene. They proceeded to Eliza Lovekin’s house, where Elphick had found the body and saw the corpse of a woman lying on a bed on its side. Intelligence of the shocking circumstance was sent to the Coroner. The parish constables have yet to find the perpetrator of this bloody crime.
Kevin stood with the book open in front
