Rock and Roll
The tape crackled to an end. Up in the eaves of the barn, Rebecca pressed the stop button and blew out her cheeks. ‘Wow!’
‘Blimey!’ said Drew. ‘My Grandda fought in that war. All he ever says is he hopes Dougie and I never have to experience anything like it. Makes you think twice about wrinklies when you realise what they went through when they were younger. Rupe’s Grandpa couldn’t have been much older back then than my brother is now.’
‘I’d never thought of it like that,’ said Laura. ‘Listening to something that personal felt a bit of an intrusion.’
‘We have to get this to Rupert,’ said Rebecca. ‘And we obviously have to help him … But if there is anything, a trail leading anywhere, why hasn’t anybody else found it in over sixty years?’
Laura shook her head. ‘He says be on your guard but who from?’
Rebecca went over to the window, her hands clasped in front of her. ‘Whom do we have to beware of? What happened to Himmel? To Kraus? Who were the men at the Manor? Who’s the monk? And how do we find the man in the wheelchair?’
‘And your spooky pal in the black habit, don’t forget him,’ said Drew.
Rebecca appeared not to hear. ‘We should pay the vicar a visit and find out about that watermark. But first, we have to find the man in the wheelchair. If my guess is right, he may be the key to this.’
Drew looked at Laura, who shrugged. They both looked back to Rebecca. ‘And are you going to share any of your guesses with the group?’
Rebecca shook her head. ‘Nope! Not yet. I’m not quite certain what I think myself. But first thing in the morning, Laura, you go to see the vicar.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Laura asked.
‘Drew and I are going to see the solicitor, who will hopefully tell us where to find the wheelchair man. The Admiral says he will help us. We have to get to him before the other side does.’
‘What? You think he might be in danger?’ Laura sounded concerned.
‘We may all be in danger, Gilmour.’
‘We need to get this tape and stuff to Rupe.’ Drew held out his hand.
‘Then you’d better get back up that tree, Tarzan’ said Rebecca, tossing him the tape recorder.
* * *
Breakfast next morning was subdued and uncomfortable. John Sky did not appear, for which everyone seemed rather thankful. From the frosty atmosphere, Rebecca suspected words had been exchanged among the adults. Rupert’s mother appeared but said very little and lingered only long enough to make a cup of tea. Nobody mentioned Rupert.
‘Er, Drew and I were hoping to go to Tregenna?’ Rebecca addressed her question to Gaston. He looked up from his newspaper, nodding.
‘I’m going myself. Jump in if you like. What do you want there?’
‘Oh just a bit of shopping, something for my Mum,’ said Rebecca hurriedly. This seemed to satisfy Gaston.
‘See you outside in ten minutes,’ he said from behind his newspaper.
* * *
The Smuggler’s Chapel appeared deserted. Laura stood in the doorway and called out a tentative ‘Hello?’ There was a muffled crash from somewhere at the far end near the altar. After a few seconds, the head of an old man appeared from behind a wooden door, peering down the chapel.
‘Good morning! Can I be of assistance?’
‘Yes! I hope so! Are you the vicar?’ Laura hurried down the aisle towards him, fumbling in her pocket for the note. The old man nodded and beamed at her.
‘James Hendricks at your service … no relation by the way.’ Laura looked at him, bemused. ‘Jimmy Hendrix? Rock and Roll performer of some distinction? Not that I can admit to having heard any of his LP’s but I am told he is something of a legend.’
Laura shook her head, blankly. ‘LP’s? What are they?’
‘I suppose you are quite a young person. I believe he died in the early seventies.’
‘Ancient history. I was born in the nineties.’
‘Good Lord, really? Tempus fugit and all that. Oh well, anyway, how can I help?’
‘My name is Laura Gilmour. I am staying with the Dewhurst- Hobbs. We were wondering if you could help explain something.’
‘A mystery? How exciting!’
‘There is a watermark on this paper. It seems to be a sort of religious symbol, so we wondered if you could help identify it?’ She handed him the paper.
‘Delighted! Oh dear, I need my glasses as I am quite short-sighted. Come this way.’
Laura followed him down a cramped staircase into a gloomy underground chamber, wrinkling her nose against a pervasive musty odour. They went through an ancient iron gate into a smaller room, where there were signs of recent activity. This chamber was well lit and fresh. James Hendricks crossed to a stone plinth, took out a pair of glasses and perched them precariously on his nose. He smoothed the paper under a lamp and studied it.
Laura looked around, curious. ‘Do you mind me asking what are you doing down here?’
The vicar looked up. ‘Oh, it’s all rather intriguing actually and maybe another mystery for you! This is the Dewhurst-Hobb family crypt, where the Admiral will be buried… Ooh! I hope that doesn’t sound too morbid. We are making preparations as you see. It’s actually the first time this has been opened in over fifty years. Closed up after the War because there had been some subsidence and it wasn’t deemed safe. It’s true. Part of the wall over there collapsed when we pushed it. But we made quite an interesting discovery.’
Laura peered through a hole in the wall, just large enough for a person to crawl through. She could make out another, narrow chamber, although it was too dark to see well.
‘Looks like a solid, outside wall, doesn’t it? Yet there is another chamber. You can squeeze through, although I haven’t tried. Bit old for that sort of thing. But … we pulled our friend here out.’ The old man pointed to a long wooden box. Laura took a step forward. Immediately, the old vicar laid a gentle hand on her arm. ‘Are you squeamish, my dear?’
Laura stopped. ‘I don’t think so.’ She peered very slowly into the opened lid. Inside were bones. She recoiled in surprise. ‘Oh!’
‘He’s quite dead,’ said the vicar, gaily. ‘Nothing to worry about. Not a Dewhurst-Hobb though. Or if he is, then not favoured enough to gain admittance to the family crypt for eternity. We don’t know who he is. Quite a tall chap, though, we think… I suppose it is a man. Rather more to the point though, is who is he and how did he get here?’
Gathering herself, Laura looked again. The deep, black eye sockets of a ghoulish skull stared back, making her feel queasy. Gingerly, she reached out to touch it. It felt surprisingly smooth. The rib cage was largely intact. It was a very odd feeling, seeing the remains of what had been a human being, lying there like this. ‘I’m not being cheeky but surely a graveyard is a normal place to find dead people?’
‘Oh quite! Ha! Ha!’ James Hendricks appeared to enjoy this hugely.
‘Whoever he is, he has been here some time. There were some old rags in there too, which we put over there. I haven’t looked at them yet.’ Hendricks pointed to the table and a pile of grubby black cloth. Laura rustled through it until something caught her eye.
A cap. The peak bore a faded gold-braided insignia, U-821.
‘This is German, isn’t it?’ she said, excitedly.
The vicar looked surprised. ‘Is it? How can you tell?’
‘U-821. Surely a German U-boat!’
‘I say, quite the detective aren’t you?! Bravo! A German U-boat? I’d completely missed that. My eyes, you see? Can’t see a thing past the end of my nose.’
‘Do you think I could borrow this and try and find out a bit more?’
‘By all means, my dear! Anything for a friend of the Dewhurst- Hobbs and all that.
How jolly intriguing! Go and see what old Guppy Baverstock makes of it. Jolly clever chap, old Guppy. Do come back and tell me.’ Laura was about to ask who Guppy Baverstock was when she remembered why she had come to the chapel in the first place.
‘I nearly forgot. What about the watermark?’
Hendricks jumped. ‘Oh yes! Golly, your watermark! Let me see, where is it – ah, yes!’
He picked it up. ‘No great mystery there. That’s the mark of St Morwenna’s Monastery.’
‘Are there still monks there?’ asked Laura. She followed the vicar back up into the church.
‘Oh yes although they keep very much to themselves. They have very little to do with the community.’
‘Do they ever come to your church?’
‘Oh no, never! Although if memory serves, they worked on the window many years ago when the chapel was restored after the war. Before even my time, that.’ He pointed up at a beautiful stained glass window, through which the sun was now casting shafts of glorious coloured light throughout the small chapel. ‘The monks would consider us quite low church. This place has quite a colourful history, you see. One of my predecessors, Reverend Ebeneezer Gadd, made a bit of an enemy of the local authorities by allowing the bell to be rung to warn smugglers when the soldiers were coming. The notorious Black Monk was hung from the tower as a warning, they say. That’s a few years before even I or Jimmy Hendrix were born, though.’
The old man grinned boyishly. Laura could not help joining in. ‘Stunning window, isn’t it? I could look at it for hours. The knight in the middle is Sir Lytton Hobbe, who did all sorts of dastardly deeds in the Crusades in the name of the Lord. Not sure what the Lord would really have made of all that.’ Laura smiled politely and said her goodbyes. As she departed, the old vicar was staring up at the window, lost in his thoughts.
So the mystery message had come from somebody at the monastery. And they kept seeing the monk. Two plus two? wondered Laura. Her mind raced with excitement as she hurried back to tell the others her news. And what of the cap? Oh damn! She had forgotten to ask about Guppy whats-his-name.