Dracup shifted in his seat. He read the last letter and threw it on the table. Nothing. He tried to remember what his aunt had been involved in, what contacts she had had within her community. She had been a committed Christian, that much he knew, a regular church attendee. And there was her work for charities. He racked his brains. Which church had she attended? The local one, of course; Forest Avenue Baptist. He glanced at his watch: 5.21. Not too late to call at the manse. He grabbed his coat.
Sara frowned. “Where are you off to?”
“To see the minister. Won’t be long.”
“To see who?”
Farrell reached for his coat.
“No.” Dracup told him. “You stay with Sara. I’m only going up the road, and it’s still daylight.”
Forty minutes later Dracup strode briskly along Forest Avenue, a cream envelope tucked securely in his jacket pocket. His heart was thumping with adrenaline and his face wore a grim smile of triumph. He took the stairs two at a time and found Farrell and Sara at the top, their faces quizzical.
“Listen to this.”
Sara and Farrell froze at the excitement in Dracup’s voice.
Dracup opened with shaking hands the letter the Reverend Anthony McPhee had produced from his filing cabinet. “It’s from the Alexandra Nursing Home, Aberdeen. From the matron.”
“But how did –?” Sara’s mouth was open.
Dracup shushed her into silence. He read the letter aloud:
Mrs Hunter
c/o Forest Avenue Baptist Church,
Aberdeen
Dear Mrs Hunter,
As we haven’t heard from you for a while, I thought I’d drop you a wee line to see how you were. We always appreciate Pastor McPhee’s visits – and all the wonderful things your church does for the home. Things here are busy as usual – we’ve had the builders in for quite a time now and the dust makes a terrible mess. But we are looking forward to the finished results and the new lounge extension should be ready by Christmas. We’re hoping to hold the carol service there as we’ll at last have plenty of room! Now, I must mention that Mr Churchill is asking for you – he won’t listen to us when we tell him you’ll no doubt pop in soon. He keeps on asking! Well, you know that he does so enjoy your visits and is keeping awfully well considering he’ll be 105 in November and is our oldest resident by a long way!
Anyway, I mustn’t keep you any longer but do accept all our best wishes. Hoping to see you soon.
Yours sincerely,
Joan Mayfield
Matron
Sara looked blankly at him, searching for significance. Dracup watched their faces for any glimmer of understanding. His words tripped over themselves as he tried to explain. “My aunt – she was a member of the local church – she did a lot of charity work in the nursing homes in the area. There was one in particular that was a favourite. Now I know why.”
“Churchill?” Sara’s eyes reflected the light Dracup was searching for. He could almost hear the penny drop.
“Yes! Churchill!” Dracup shouted. “Reeves-Churchill. Theodore’s colleague on the expeditions. He’s still alive!”
Chapter 7
The time is now, Ruth told herself. He will listen. She hesitated and then heard herself speak, surprised at how calm she sounded. “Forget this Professor Dracup,” Ruth told Kadesh. “He cannot harm us.”
“He has already harmed us. Harmed me.”
Ruth pressed on, heedless of the risk she was taking. He was grieving, but she had to know. She had chosen the time carefully. They were resting, breaking their long journey in the anonymity of the French countryside. Kadesh was quiet, thoughtful; pondering his next move. In this mood he was approachable. “It was not the Englishman’s doing,” she appealed. “It was his father’s father. He was the one who transgressed.”
Kadesh drew himself up to his full height and Ruth shrank before him. He towered above her, though she herself was tall – like all her kind; her ancestry had fashioned her that way.
Kadesh glowered and then seemed to check himself. “The Englishman has taken a life; my brother’s life. He must reap the consequences. And the law must be fulfilled.”
Ruth changed tack. If she acknowledged his success, then surely he would reconsider. “You have completed your mission. Our treasure will be restored to its rightful place. Surely there is nothing to be gained –”
Kadesh held up his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Gained? There is much to be gained. Justice will be done. And then I will be satisfied.”
“What will you do with the girl?” Ruth asked. “She cannot be any use to you.”