There was a fuzzy noise before Mark’s familiar voice filled the line. ‘We’ve got a long list of locations in Lincolnshire that might be of interest,’ he said. ‘There are plenty of vanished items andmysterious places that haven’t been fully explored. For example, there are the remains of an old Templar church at a place called Bruer. Some stories suggest that the Templars kept an idol there that was of great importance – there’s a chance that idol was John the Baptist’s decapitated head.’
I recoiled. Eugh.
‘Then there’s something called the Brass Wellie from Boston,’ he told us. ‘There’s a lot of debate about what it actually is, but it’s a lost object of some significance and definitely has some magical power, although it appears to be agricultural in nature.’
He paused for breath. ‘And in more rural Lincolnshire there’s a decorative grave marker. Four hundred skeletons were recently uncovered nearby. I’m waiting to hear back from one of the archaeologists on that particular project, so I can’t tell you much more at the moment. However, I should also mention the items that have already been discovered but whose existence remains unexplained, such as the Corieltauvi Bull Rider. That’s a small figurine, two thousand years old, that was dug up by a metal detectorist. Or the Witham Shield from the Iron Age, which possesses mystic elements. And if it’s not objects we’re searching for but actual creatures, there is the supposed river god, Old Muddyface.’
I heard Rizwan in the background. ‘Not a god, obviously. Probably another damned troll.’
Duchess’s voice boomed, ‘Anotherwhat?’
‘Another wonderful troll, Duchess. What did you think I said?’ He was lucky she was often hard of hearing.
Mark continued. ‘There’s a selkie called Jenny Hearn, who’s been hanging around the Trent for decades.’ He sighed with exasperation. ‘We’ve tried to contact her but she’s not known for either her enthusiasm or friendliness. To be honest, so far we probably have more than a hundred places, people and objectsof interest in Lincolnshire. I don’t see how we can narrow them down without further information. And there are probably hundreds of other things out there that we don’t know about.’
Rizwan’s muffled voice spoke again. ‘Tell them about the dead guy.’
Mark sighed. ‘There is a chance that we’ve identified the corpse you found in Culcreuch Castle. A metal detectorist called William Hausman vanished several years ago. The timing of his disappearance matches the decomposition.’
‘Where did Hausman disappear from?’ Hugo asked.
‘King’s Lynn,’ Mark replied. ‘It’s in Norfolk, but it’s only a stone’s throw from the border with Lincolnshire.’
My fingers twisted together. The geographical coincidence couldn’t be ignored: perhaps poor Mr Hausman had gotten too close to whatever the spider had alluded to – and whatever Athair was trying to hide.
Hugo raised his eyebrows at me in question. I knew what he was asking and I nodded. What other choice was there? We had to add the spider’s information into the mix. ‘It’s possible that we have something else which might help. Or,’ he demurred, ‘it might not.’
‘Why do I suspect it will be the latter?’ Mark asked drily.
Hugo smiled slightly. ‘There are some woods to the north of Hammerwich,’ he said. ‘Find out what date coppicing started there and narrow your search to items and people from between that date and the outbreak of the Black Death.’
For a long moment there was silence on the other end of the phone until eventually Miriam responded. ‘Hugo, dear,’ she said with infinite patience. ‘Hammerwich is in Staffordshire. It’s nowhere near Lincolnshire.’
‘I’m aware of that, Miriam.’ Hugo hesitated. ‘We met a very old creature who’d heard a rumour about someone who livedduring that period of time and who possessed the means to expel all fiends in one go.’
Hester leaned into my ear. ‘You know, when he says it like that, it sounds completely ridiculous,’ she muttered.
I grimaced. Yeah. It did.
‘Exactly how many wild goose chases do you want us to go on?’ Mark asked.
Hugo winced so I answered for him. ‘Just these two.’ I tried to sound cheerful. ‘They might be linked.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Call it gut instinct,’ I said.
This time it was Duchess whose voice I heard in the background. ‘My gut instinct is telling me very loudly that it’s time for lunch,’ she declared. There was a chorus of groans. I suspected this was not the first time today that Duchess had mentioned her stomach.
Becky spoke up. ‘Are you both sure about this?’
‘We’re not sure about anything, Becky,’ I told her, trying to be honest. ‘But it’s got to be worth a shot.’
‘Then we’ll do our best,’ she said, but even she sounded doubtful.
‘Thanks.’
Hugo picked up the phone. ‘Email the list of places and things you’ve already found,’ he said. ‘It’ll be helpful to look over it.’
