Witch Hunt

Chapter Forty-Two




For a second we sat motionless. Then Anne came over and looked at the screen, reading up and down the family tree. I was staring at Harry with my mouth open. My brain wasn’t steady: a thousand different voices clamoured within.

This changed everything.

Everything.

Time seemed to pause.

I started to feel very hot.

I had no idea what the other two were thinking. But it seemed like the name had made an impact. They were adding things up too.

Finally Harry swallowed. ‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ he said at length.

Anne breathed out a long sigh. ‘The American. The one who came to see the diaries. Think about it. Robert Cutt – he’s American too isn’t he?’

‘We were reading about him in the papers at the weekend,’ Harry added. ‘Political ambitions scuppered by scandal or some such.’

‘Mmm,’ I said, agreeing.

‘Good lord,’ said Anne and perched her rear on the arm of the chair. ‘Do you think he knows?’

I wasn’t sure. ‘The American connection could be a coincidence. Cutt might not have a clue at all. Although when that article was published it must have registered on several radars. It’s pretty easy to monitor the press. There are agencies that do just that. You just have to let them know what to look for and they’ll send you any relevant cuttings. There’s nothing cloak and dagger about it. We use one at Mercurial.’

Anne reached out and put her hand on Harry’s shoulder. ‘Then we had the fire.’

I nodded slowly as an uncomfortable image flashed in my head. The word ‘Desist’ written across the map. It was an order. A couple more occasions drifted up from the recesses of my mind. The man watching me when I had been in the pub with Amelia. The car tailing me from the petrol station. That guy at Dan’s place. ‘Last night,’ I said eventually, ‘I was burgled. Maybe I was being warned off.’

‘You think it’s connected?’ Harry heaved in a deep breath.

‘As far as everyone else knows the evidence went up in smoke.’

‘But how would he know about your research?’ Anne asked.

‘I’ve practically been shouting it out,’ I said. ‘His company are publishing my book.’

‘Good lord,’ Anne spluttered again.

‘But he can’t know about everything that’s going on in every corner of his domain,’ Harry said, more to himself, and tapped the sofa. ‘I suppose the timing is crucial right now. If the press published his lineage it might be another blow to his political aspirations.’

‘Exactly.’ I stood up. ‘We need to get this stuff somewhere safe. I need to write this up and then get it to the magazine. I’m not sure Portillion will want to publish my book any more. But someone else will and I know that Mercurial will go with it. In fact, they’ll love it. The next issue goes to press in ten days. That means within two weeks we can get it into the public domain. That’s how we make the knowledge safe – get it out there and expose it. Sitting on it won’t do any of us any favours. Can you go up to London soon and get the documents over to the British Museum? Or take them to the university? No actually, the museum will be more secure.’

Harry nodded. ‘We’re planning on a trip to town next week.’

‘Thank you. This is fantastic stuff. Okay,’ I said and got to my feet. ‘I’ve got a lot of work to do.’

When I think back to that day I try to remember exactly how I felt right then: if I was scared or worried?

I don’t recall those feelings at all and in retrospect I think that was a good thing. It gave me a break. A little reprieve, some time to be excited and feel alive.

I should have relished it. I wish I had.

Things were about to get a whole lot darker.