‘You also said you were going to tell them about the Watchers,’ Robert reminded Jake.
‘Yes.’ Jake nodded.
Michelle frowned.
‘The Watchers?’ she asked.
‘The Watchers are the guardians of the books,’ said Jake. ‘Originally, they were ordinary people who were trusted by the monks who hid the books. You know, cooks, servants, carpenters, stonemasons, tradespeople. The sort no one notices. Their job was to keep watch over the hidden books and make sure no one discovered them by accident, or on purpose. No one except the monks who’d hidden them, that is.’
‘Sort of security?’ asked Andy.
Jake nodded.
‘Apparently, the idea was that the Watchers would keep the books safe until the time was right for them to be revealed. But that time never came. So the Watchers continued keeping watch over the books, making sure they remained undisturbed. The books are still hidden, and the Watchers still guard them. The job was handed down from generation to generation. Parents to their children. Uncles and aunts to nieces and nephews. They’re still ordinary people doing ordinary jobs — only now they’re nurses, teachers, railway workers, taxi drivers, carpenters, journalists . . .’
Andy frowned.
‘Are you expecting trouble from these Watchers if we find anything?’ he said, concerned.
‘Not trouble as in physical violence,’ said Jake. ‘At least, the Watcher I met before told me they don’t go in for that sort of thing.’
‘What sort of things do they go in for?’ asked Michelle.
‘Interrupting any digging,’ said Jake. ‘Court orders. But all non-violent.’
‘Well, at least that’s something positive,’ said Michelle.
Jake hesitated, wondering whether to tell them about Carl Parsons, the Watcher that Lauren had killed, and how he’d attacked her with a knife to try and force her to give him the book she and Jake had got hold of. But that had been because he was getting paid to get hold of the book, not because he was a Watcher.
‘Mind,’ he added, ‘that’s how most Watchers go about it. If there was a renegade among them . . .’
‘He or she might get violent?’ asked Andy.
Jake shrugged.
‘It’s unlikely,’ he said. ‘But I just thought I’d mention it.’
And let’s hope that’s true, he said silently to himself. The last thing they wanted was to come up against another Carl Parsons, armed and murderous.
Chapter 13
They drove out to the first site, Jake and Michelle with Robert in the hired car, and Andy with Woody in Andy’s car. As Robert drove, Jake kept his attention on the other traffic around them, slotting into his memory any vehicles that looked as if they might be following them. The first site was a field down a narrow country lane, with barely room to park one car, let alone two.
‘If anyone’s following us, they’re going to have to wait for us back at the road,’ Jake commented.
‘The only car that looked like it was coming after us was that blue Renault,’ said Michelle, taking a trowel from the boot of the car. ‘But it sailed straight past when we turned off down the lane.’
‘It’s still worth remembering,’ put in Robert. ‘If we see it again when we try the second site, we’ll know they’re definitely following us. Did anyone get the number?’
‘I did,’ Michelle said, and she read out the registration plate.
‘Impressive,’ said Jake approvingly.
Michelle shrugged.
‘It’s all part of being an investigative reporter,’ she said, ‘keeping my eyes open and my memory sharp.’
Andy joined them with Woody on the lead, obviously keen to get into action.
‘All ready?’ he asked.
Jake produced the envelope with the old book cover and passed it to Andy, who held the cover under the dog’s nose for it to get a good scent, before returning it to Jake.
‘OK,’ said Andy. ‘Let’s go.’
They crossed a stile into the field Lauren had targeted, Woody and Andy leading the way, Michelle following with the trowel, then Jake and Robert bringing up the rear, each carrying a spade.
They walked along the side of the field, along a narrow earth-trodden path partly covered by nettles and long grass, with brambles snaking through that caught at their ankles as they walked. Jake’s concentration was on Woody as the dog ambled along, nose sniffing at the ground. He was waiting for the dog to stop and show some interest, or excitement, but Woody’s mood didn’t change. He just sniffed all the way along the path to the end, and then along the path to the right that cut across the end of the field. At one point he stopped, and Jake’s heart gave a little leap of hope, but the dog had only stopped to take a pee, and then they continued on again.