Gonner have another bit of a walk round. Come back for the thing.’
Teddy nodded. They watched the man making his way up the path. He couldn’t be more than mid-thirties, thick brown hair.
‘MS,’ Teddy murmured. ‘What kind of luck is that for a farmer?’ He opened the church door, stood aside for Merrily. ‘You been in here before?’
‘Never.’
No sooner were they inside than he’d closed the door, blew out a breath.
‘Didn’t want to introduce you, Merrily. Difficult. That’s Paul Gray – he and his wife …’ Teddy lowered his voice ‘… sold the Master House to the Duchy.’
‘Oh.’
‘Long story. Bad feeling. Not for me to … Still a bit of a newcomer. As, of course, is Paul, which is one of the problems.’ He laughed. ‘You can be here for three generations and they’ll still call you a newcomer. Couple of families go back to the Norman Conquest. So …’ Extending an arm. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s … unusual.’
‘More than you know.’
Merrily nodded, taking it in. It was quite small but lofty and airy and filled with rosy light. The chancel was framed by a classic zigzagged andserrated Norman arch, wide and theatrical. Red velvet curtains were drawn across it, as if what lay beyond them was not for the unprepared. Something rare and sacred, Grail-like.
Or perhaps a body in a coffin?
Merrily shook herself. Too much M. R. James.
Teddy Murray nodded towards a banner with a crusader kind of cross, red and gold on white, hanging from the pulpit.
‘Still a major presence, then?’ Merrily said.
‘The Templars? Yes, I suppose they are. Do you know much about them, Merrily?’
‘Erm …’ She looked up at the dark brown wooden ceiling, curved like the bottom of a boat and decorated with a small and regular galaxy of white stars. In a pocket of her jeans, the mobile phone began to vibrate against her left thigh. ‘Maybe not as much as I ought to.’
Merrily placed a hand over the phone, and Teddy Murray leaned back against a pew end, looking down at her with what you could only describe as a beneficent smile, evidently all too ready to do what he was better at than dispensing spiritual succour.
‘It’s sometimes difficult to separate the truth from the lurid speculation,’ she told him. ‘Never a problem for my daughter.’
‘I suppose,’ he said, ‘that few of us like to countenance the idea that the Templars guarded the secret of the bloodline of Christ through his supposed marriage to Mary Magdalene.’
‘Oh, she’s happy enough with that idea. I suppose what bothers
me
most is the idea of the Templars – or someone – guarding the secret resting place of his bones.’
‘Let’s not talk of heresy.’
‘Let’s not.’
‘None of it, however, makes the Knights Templar less interesting,’ Teddy Murray said. ‘Follow me, Mrs Watkins.’
9
Funnies
W HEN MERRILY CLIMBED back into the car, the weather had changed; the sky had the deep grey lustre of tinfoil and a single slow raindrop rolled down the windscreen like a cartoon tear, and she just wanted to be home and lighting a fire.
She pulled out her phone. Lol would be on the way to his gig in Newtown, Powys, so it was more likely to be Jane.
It was neither, just a short text.
CALL ME.
MOB PLEASE
FB
A text from Frannie Bliss? If it
was
him, this was a first. Mobile would mean he didn’t want to take the call in the CID room. She found his number in the index, but the signal was on the blink, so she reversed out of the church entrance and drove away from the village, uphill, pulling into a passing place, winding up the window against a rising wind.
‘Nicely timed, Reverend,’ Bliss said. ‘You’ve caught up with me in the gents.’
‘I totally refuse to picture the scene.’
‘Not good enough, anyway. Too much of an echo. I’ll call you back. Just give me a couple of minutes to … finish up in here.’
Echo?
Merrily sat watching the sloping landscape losing its colours in
Teddy nodded. They watched the man making his way up the path. He couldn’t be more than mid-thirties, thick brown hair.
‘MS,’ Teddy murmured. ‘What kind of luck is that for a farmer?’ He opened the church door, stood aside for Merrily. ‘You been in here before?’
‘Never.’
No sooner were they inside than he’d closed the door, blew out a breath.
‘Didn’t want to introduce you, Merrily. Difficult. That’s Paul Gray – he and his wife …’ Teddy lowered his voice ‘… sold the Master House to the Duchy.’
‘Oh.’
‘Long story. Bad feeling. Not for me to … Still a bit of a newcomer. As, of course, is Paul, which is one of the problems.’ He laughed. ‘You can be here for three generations and they’ll still call you a newcomer. Couple of families go back to the Norman Conquest. So …’ Extending an arm. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s … unusual.’
‘More than you know.’
Merrily nodded, taking it in. It was quite small but lofty and airy and filled with rosy light. The chancel was framed by a classic zigzagged andserrated Norman arch, wide and theatrical. Red velvet curtains were drawn across it, as if what lay beyond them was not for the unprepared. Something rare and sacred, Grail-like.
Or perhaps a body in a coffin?
Merrily shook herself. Too much M. R. James.
Teddy Murray nodded towards a banner with a crusader kind of cross, red and gold on white, hanging from the pulpit.
‘Still a major presence, then?’ Merrily said.
‘The Templars? Yes, I suppose they are. Do you know much about them, Merrily?’
‘Erm …’ She looked up at the dark brown wooden ceiling, curved like the bottom of a boat and decorated with a small and regular galaxy of white stars. In a pocket of her jeans, the mobile phone began to vibrate against her left thigh. ‘Maybe not as much as I ought to.’
Merrily placed a hand over the phone, and Teddy Murray leaned back against a pew end, looking down at her with what you could only describe as a beneficent smile, evidently all too ready to do what he was better at than dispensing spiritual succour.
‘It’s sometimes difficult to separate the truth from the lurid speculation,’ she told him. ‘Never a problem for my daughter.’
‘I suppose,’ he said, ‘that few of us like to countenance the idea that the Templars guarded the secret of the bloodline of Christ through his supposed marriage to Mary Magdalene.’
‘Oh, she’s happy enough with that idea. I suppose what bothers
me
most is the idea of the Templars – or someone – guarding the secret resting place of his bones.’
‘Let’s not talk of heresy.’
‘Let’s not.’
‘None of it, however, makes the Knights Templar less interesting,’ Teddy Murray said. ‘Follow me, Mrs Watkins.’
9
Funnies
W HEN MERRILY CLIMBED back into the car, the weather had changed; the sky had the deep grey lustre of tinfoil and a single slow raindrop rolled down the windscreen like a cartoon tear, and she just wanted to be home and lighting a fire.
She pulled out her phone. Lol would be on the way to his gig in Newtown, Powys, so it was more likely to be Jane.
It was neither, just a short text.
CALL ME.
MOB PLEASE
FB
A text from Frannie Bliss? If it
was
him, this was a first. Mobile would mean he didn’t want to take the call in the CID room. She found his number in the index, but the signal was on the blink, so she reversed out of the church entrance and drove away from the village, uphill, pulling into a passing place, winding up the window against a rising wind.
‘Nicely timed, Reverend,’ Bliss said. ‘You’ve caught up with me in the gents.’
‘I totally refuse to picture the scene.’
‘Not good enough, anyway. Too much of an echo. I’ll call you back. Just give me a couple of minutes to … finish up in here.’
Echo?
Merrily sat watching the sloping landscape losing its colours in
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