Birthright by Richard Blade

Author:Richard Blade
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9798644073658
Publisher: BladeRocker Books
Published: 2020-08-23T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Thaxted

The trio sat huddled in a first-class compartment of the Stansted Express as it hurtled northwards to meet the connecting bus which would take them on to their final destination. With the reserved cabin to themselves, Alex went over his discoveries with them.

“Vicar Donovan’s parish was St. John The Baptist’s church in Thaxted. It’s ninety minutes by train and bus for us, so it would have taken Mary many hours, even a full day, to get there by carriage.”

“Why would she go so far to a church? My Sunday school was ten minutes away and I used to bitch about that,” wondered Cate.

“I don’t know. None of her friends would have been there, we can be certain of that,” answered Alex.

“Perhaps that’s why. Maybe she didn’t want anyone she knew to see her,” suggested Eddie.

“You could be right,” Alex hadn’t considered that. “But why didn’t she want to be recognized? And what was she doing at a church, of all places, that she needed to keep a secret so badly?”

His friends had no answer, and Alex fell deep into thought as the speeding train left the sprawling metropolis of London behind and the crowded buildings were replaced by green fields and lush countryside.

Colin Brown riffled through the notes piling up on his desk. How could there be no leads on these three, he kept asking himself. If only his agency were in charge of domestic surveillance, things would be different. It was at that moment his cell rang.

He knew the number as he grabbed the phone, “What?”

Simon heard the anger and anxiety in his counterpart’s voice, “Hopefully, good news. The Met picked them up on CCTV at Liverpool Street Station. They’ve changed their look and their clothes, but we have confirmed facial recognition.”

“About time those bloody cameras found something. How long ago?”

“The video is a little more than two hours old. An agent was monitoring the platforms for pickpockets and came across them. They left by train for Thaxted.”

“Thaxted?” This was not a town Colin knew, “Where the hell is Thaxted?”

“It’s in Essex. About ninety minutes from here by train.”

“Shit.” Colin did the math in his head, “That means they’re there by now. Contact the local constabulary. Send pictures and tell them who to look for but if they are located, they are only to follow them. We’ll take two of your teams with us. How big is the Thaxted police department?”

“Four officers. Two part-time.”

“Christ!”

Thaxted Parish Church soared skyward from a hill overlooking the small town. It seemed out of place, its one-hundred-and-eighty-one-foot tower dwarfing the tiny village it served. The building, dating back to the fourteenth century, appeared ageless as it sat surrounded by a sea of gravestones, a cemetery documenting the history of Thaxted.

The three Americans walked inside the classic church, between the arched stone walls and the ancient wooden ceiling forty feet above them, with the current minister, vicar Williams.

The pastor thanked them once again, “Your donation was very generous.”

“As it says in Matthew 22, verse 21, ‘Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s’.

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