Page 60 of The Salted Sceptre
So much for my alone time. I yielded to the inevitable. ‘Sure,’ I said, doing my best to smile. ‘Let’s go.’
We wandered down the street in the direction of the building where the meeting was due to take place. The rain had paused and there were chinks of sunlight appearing through the grey clouds. King’s Lynn was much brighter with the change in the weather, and the pedestrianised high street, with its busy shops and pretty plants, was lovely to walk through.
Otis and Hester garnered several wide-eyed stares from the passers-by, which prompted Amy to stare pointedly in return and force them to look away.
Eventually we turned left between a bank and an outdoor clothing store. I checked my phone. ‘It’s only another five minutes’ walk,’ I said. ‘Up that way then around the corner.’
‘Cool,’ Amy said. ‘I’ll walk with you there and then I’ll—’ She broke off in mid-sentence and grinned. ‘Look! That’s got to be him, right? Old King Johnny himself?’
I blinked, flummoxed for a beat until I saw what Amy was referring to. Less than twenty metres ahead of us was a large statue. The other pedestrians were ignoring it, veering around it without a second glance, but I couldn’t prevent myself from stopping and staring at it.
Hester flew straight for it and flicked its nose. ‘Take that, you fucker!’ she yelled.
A passing woman scowled as if she thought Hester’s gibe was directed at her. I hastily jogged over and mumbled an apology. As soon as the woman had continued on her way, I turned to gaze at the bronze figure again.
The statue was perched on a low-lying plinth rather than a tall pedestal so that it was possible to look Bad King John in the eyes. I had no way of knowing whether it was a true likeness of the long-dead monarch but I liked to think so. There was a crown on his head and he sported a neatly trimmed beard. Thesculptor had included a sword and chain mail, alluding to King John’s military background, but it was difficult to think of him as a heroic figure even when he was a life-size statue and within touching distance.
Amy joined me and reached out to touch his outstretched hand and then his chest. Three lions were carved onto his bronzed cassock. As she traced the outline of each kingly animal, my heart rose into my mouth. She said something but her words didn’t register.
I took a step back, blood thumping in my ears. Hester frowned and waved at me in confusion as I took another step back. This was not the first time in recent days I’d seen three lions carved like that: there was a corpse inside Culcreuch Castle wearing a gold signet ring with exactly the same motif. A corpse that we suspected was a metal detectorist from this very area.
Otis tugged my earlobe. ‘Daisy?’ he asked anxiously. ‘Are you alright?’
I swallowed hard and nodded. ‘Yes,’ I managed. ‘Yes. I’m good.’
‘We should go. You’ll be late for your support meeting if we don’t hustle.’
I gave a half-hearted nod. ‘The meeting will have to wait.’
Alarmed, he started to flap his wings vigorously. ‘It can’t wait! You can’t ignore your recovery, Daisy! I know there’s a lot going on and you’re distracted right now, but this is important.’
He was right about my recovery; however I was in control and attending a meeting could keep for later. Besides, I didn’t need spider’s silk – I didn’t want any when my blood was buzzing with the start of a real plan that relied on more than luck and tide times.
I dug out my phone and jabbed in a number, impatience making my fingers fat and clumsy. Mark didn’t answer on the first ring or the second or the third. In fact, the phone rang forso long that I was already striding in the direction of the hotel, determined to thump on his door to wake him. Fortunately, he finally picked up and mumbled blearily, ‘Hullo?’
‘Mark, it’s me.’
‘Daisy?’
‘Uh-huh. Listen, what happened with William Hausman? Did you get any further identifying him as the dead body in Culcreuch Castle?’
There was a rustle of fabric as, presumably, Mark sat up in bed. ‘You might have noticed that we’ve been rather distracted lately.’
I didn’t take offence at his short tone; we were all under pressure. ‘Anything you found would be useful,’ I said.
He sighed. ‘Hang on. We don’t have much. We put him on the back burner when everything else kicked off.’
I waited. Hester, Otis and Amy were watching me with identical expressions of puzzlement.
‘Alright,’ Mark said, after a beat or two, ‘I’ve found the right piece of paper. There’s no guarantee that this is the same man, though. We don’t have much evidence to go on.’
‘I understand.’
‘In that case, William Hausman resided at 62 Glynn Close here in King’s Lynn. It was a rented property, which was cleared out around six months after he went missing. His parents are deceased and he has one sister. She moved to Australia more than a decade ago.’
Cumbubbling bollocks. There wasn’t a lot there so it wouldn’t be easy tracking down people who knew him. ‘When did he vanish?’ I asked.
‘February 2012.’
