Now, inside the cool glory of the cathedral, Sam looked round and caught sight of Edith, scuttling along in the wake of Rory’s long strides.
‘You got stuck with her, I see?’ His eyes twinkled as he noted Rory’s glance of dismay when he spotted Dr Sutherland. ‘Me too,’ he nodded, then turned to introduce them all.
‘So,’ the old man said, after shaking hands. ‘Are you poking your noses into this business too?’ He wagged a finger at them both. ‘I’ve just warned our friend here that he ought to leave it to the authorities, and – something you ought to know, young Sam,’ he frowned at his friend, ‘I think you’re being followed. I’m sure I spotted someone keeping a close eye on you just now.’
‘What?’ Sam smothered his incredulous exclamation. ‘For heaven’s sake, Oliver, you saw no such thing!’ He stared at the other man and shook his head. ‘This isn’t some back alley in gangland, and we’re not playing cops and robbers. Now, we’re going up to look at the cathedral library. What about you?’
‘I’ll stay on guard.’ The old man sounded undaunted by Sam’s scolding. ‘Here, by the Wilberforce tomb.’ He waved a fond hand at the exuberant Victorian gothic angels. ‘I’ll hoot like an owl to warn you if I see the same bloke again; tall fellow, dark hair, sunglasses. Noticed him particularly, definitely keeping an eye on you.’
‘You silly old fool.’ Sam clapped an affectionate hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘God help anyone who does get into your clutches; you’d talk them to death.’
Oliver Sutherland grinned cheerfully at Rory and Edith who were watching in amusement. ‘Might pop into the chapel next door for a sit-down in a minute, actually. Check on things through the iron grilles,’ he whispered, his face alight with mischief. ‘Here, Sam, you’d better give me that wretched hat of yours. It’ll only get in the way.’
Sam, who was attempting to stuff the panama into his jacket pocket, gave in and meekly passed it over to the old man who immediately began to fan himself with it. ‘All right, you old fraud,’ he laughed. ‘You can come out to lunch with us when we’re done here, but only on condition you buy me a drink to compensate for all the aggro you cause me.’
The Triforium Gallery was crowded but Edith and Rory were happy to squeeze in and look at the various treasures.
‘I haven’t been up here for ages,’ Edith said, pointing out a silhouette of Jane Austen, “done by herself”, according to the inscription on the back. ‘Don’t let me forget to show you her memorial on our way out.’
Sam looked on benignly as they admired a green bowl made of fluted glass. ‘That’s said to have contained the heart of King Canute,’ he told them. ‘The bowl was found at Shaftesbury, where he died, but he was buried here in Winchester. It’s said to be the only complete piece of Late Saxon glass in England. It’s a crying shame you can’t finance a dig in your Burial Field, you might come up with some treasures of your own. Maybe you’ll get a grant some day. Now come along, time to take a look in the library. You mustn’t miss the Winchester Bible.’
As Rory followed Sam, Edith leaned over the balcony and gazed down at the pinnacles of the Wilberforce tomb. A large party of tourists was milling around and as she watched, Dr Sutherland glanced up and waved to her, pointing to the Venerable Chapel at the side. She smiled and nodded as he turned to make his way through the throng and into the chapel, then she followed the others down to the library. A last glance downward showed her the old man parked comfortably on a chair, with Sam’s panama on his chest and Sam’s blue silk handkerchief being used as a fan. Edith felt faintly disconcerted, dismissing as ridiculous an indefinable sense of dismay, something out of tune, something she had just seen.
The library was fascinating and Rory, in particular, spent ages admiring the famous Winchester Bible, the masterpiece commissioned by King Stephen’s brother, the Prince Bishop of Winchester.
Rory quoted from the leaflet he’d bought: ‘It was written on the finest parchment, each sheet a complete hide, requiring the slaughter in all of some two hundred and fifty calves.’ He looked at the other two, his eyes gleaming. ‘I’ve a good mind to try my hand at some illuminated capitals,’ he said. ‘I had some fun with icons a year or so back, and this wouldn’t be too dissimilar.’
Sam’s phone beeped and he looked eagerly at the incoming text. ‘Oh great, we’ve completed. The cottage is mine.’ He acknowledged their congratulations then looked at his watch again. ‘Seen enough? Right, let’s go down and winkle old Oliver out of wherever he’s dozing. I promised him lunch and he’ll be ready for it by now. We’ll make it a celebration.’