Murder in the Museum. Simon BrettЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘So do you know Bracketts?’
‘I did the Guided Tour soon after I moved down here. I had a friend staying who’s interested in that period of literary history.’
‘Oh, did I meet her?’
‘Him. No.’ Carole would have liked more information about the friend, but Jude had already moved on. ‘We saw Sheila Cartwright then. She was pointed out to us by the guide, almost as if she was one of the remarkable exhibits. Very much Lady of the Manor, I thought.’
‘Well, she’s no longer in charge of the place . . . though you’d never know it from the way she goes on.’ Jude raised interrogative eyebrows, but Carole shook her head. ‘Complex management politics which I’m not going to go into at the moment. I’ll fill you in soon enough.’
‘Then what are you going to go into at the moment?’
‘Just the discovery of the skull.’
‘You used the word “skeleton” earlier.’
‘Yes, there were other bones around. Certainly part of a spinal column. Only the top bit had been unearthed, but it was lying as if it was still with the rest of the skeleton.’
There was a silence. Jude prompted, ‘There was something you thought odd, though, wasn’t there?’
‘I told you. There was a hole in the skull.’
‘Yes. Must be murder. Did it look like a bullet-hole?’
‘Jude, I’ve no idea.’
‘Hole made by surgery? Or by an ice-pick, as in the case of Trotsky?’
‘I just don’t know.’ Carole looked thoughtful and took a long sip from her Chardonnay. ‘It wasn’t the skull itself so much . . . it was the people’s reaction to it.’
‘Like . . .?’
‘Well, Sheila Cartwright was desperate that no publicity should leak out about the find.’
‘Fair enough. She didn’t want the status quo at Bracketts disrupted.’
‘Her reaction seemed more than that. She said it was dangerous. She actually used the word “dangerous”.’
Jude shrugged. ‘Just meant that bad publicity could be dangerous”.’
‘Possibly.’ But there was something else nagging at Carole. ‘Then there was this man who broke down in tears.’
‘At the sight of the skull?’
‘That’s right. He said that he couldn’t stand seeing dead bodies, but his reaction was very violent.’
‘Some people are spooked by that kind of stuff. It’s a nasty shock for anyone.’
‘Yes.’ Carole sighed and nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘Do you know who this man was?’
‘One of the day-release prisoners from Austen. Do you know Austen, the Open Prison?’
‘I know it,’ replied Jude, with a new seriousness in her manner. ‘Did you get the man’s name?’
‘Sheila Cartwright called him Mervyn. And – this was the strange thing – she implied that this man was used to seeing dead bodies.’
‘Was that explained at all?’
‘No. That’s all I got, before I was summarily whisked off the premises.’
Jude looked thoughtful.
‘Why, do you know an Austen prisoner called Mervyn?’
‘No. I don’t.’ Introspection was swept away with a toss of the blonde hair. ‘Come on, we’re going to have lunch here, aren’t we?’
‘Well, I’ve got a cottage cheese salad in the fridge.’
‘In that case, we are definitely going to have lunch here. Cottage cheese is an abomination in the sight of God and Man. Ted!’ Jude called across to the bar, ‘What do you recommend today?’
Instantly ignoring the queues of the thirsty in front of him, the landlord turned to his favoured customers and replied, ‘Well, putting my good self on one side, I don’t think you’d go far wrong with the Fillet of Fresh Cod. Tell you, this morning that fish was still in the sea at Littlehampton, worrying about paying the mortgage on its special piece of seaweed.’
‘Right, I’ll go for it.’ On a nod from Carole, ‘Make that two.’
‘Two Fillet of Fresh Cod it is, ladies.’ Ted Crisp called the order through to some unknown person in the kitchen. Then he turned back to the two women and emerged from behind the bar.
He was wearing shorts. They might once have been blue and didn’t, it has to be said, do a lot for him. His stomach sat on the ledge of their belt like a jelly on a plate.
‘You two been finding any more dead bodies, have you?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Carole replied primly.
‘Oh well, there you go,’ said Ted Crisp, and returned to serve the holiday hordes.
‘So that’s it,’ said Carole flatly. ‘I was present at the unearthing of a skull. Full stop.’
‘In that case, maybe you’d better go through the boring stuff now.’
‘Boring stuff?’
‘ “Complex management politics” was the phrase you used.’
‘Oh. All right.’
And so Carole Seddon outlined to her friend the conflict between the former and current Directors of Bracketts, thinking – wrongly, as it turned out – she’d never hear any more about the skeleton that had been found there.
Chapter Six
Jude didn’t have strong feelings about lying, when it was necessary. She felt no guilt for having lied to Carole about not knowing anyone locally called Mervyn. Even given the detail that the Mervyn she knew was currently serving time in HMP Austen.
Nor did she feel any guilt for keeping her own connection with the prison a secret from her neighbour.
Jude’s work at Austen was voluntary and semiofficial. The prison had a very imaginative Education Officer called Sandy Fairbarns, who was always doing her best to extend the definition of the word ‘education’ and to introduce new activities to alleviate the boredom of the prisoners. Since her budget was small and getting smaller, this meant that she was constantly listening out for opportunities, homing in on people who might have a skill they could share, and pursuing them with relentless charm until they agreed to do a session or series of sessions at the jail. She had built up a good relationship with the Governor who, recognizing that the more the prisoners had to do, the less trouble they were likely to cause, encouraged Sandy’s alternative programme.
As a result, Austen Prison became the destination for a disparate group of writers, musicians, artists and local historians. Some found the working conditions impossible; prisoners would wander in and out at will; it was difficult to impose any structure on the sessions. For others the experience was very positive, and they pressed Sandy Fairbarns to organize further courses for them.
The continuity of the programme was always under threat. Only one disciplinary problem was required, one whiff of adverse publicity, and the Governor would put a stop to it. But the Education Officer walked her tightrope with skill, and the project prospered.
Jude had met Sandy at a Mind, Body and Spirit Fair in Brighton, and Sandy had immediately responded to Jude’s aura of equanimity. Within minutes she had suggested involving her new acquaintance in the Austen courses and over a drink