Death in Print by G.M. Malliet

Author:G.M. Malliet [Malliet, G.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2023-05-09T00:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

The Turf

The Turf, inevitably referred to in guidebooks as ‘one of Oxford’s hidden gems’, was everything a children’s author like Tricia Magnum might hope for in writing about a treasure hunt. Leaving breadcrumbs to find the way back out was almost a necessity.

There was little to alert the casual passer-by to the place’s existence, but an historian’s knowledge that the pub was bounded on one side by the original city wall offered one clue. It had started life as a gamblers’ den, built just outside the city’s jurisdiction, so any illicit activity could continue unregulated. A roster of the famous who had visited included Stephen Hawking and movie stars like Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor and, as with the Randolph, nearly everyone connected with the Inspector Morse shows.

St. Just found the ‘secret opening’ to the maze of St Helen’s Passage and, at about the halfway mark, made a sharp left turn towards the pub. He looked for Portia in the several courtyards surrounding the building, each shielded with outdoor umbrellas and provided with heaters to chase away any autumn or spring chill. She wasn’t outside, so he headed into the interior, which consisted of two rather cramped rooms – especially cramped for someone of St. Just’s height – joined by a central bar. She was sitting in a far corner, her handbag placed opposite to save him a seat.

‘Did you have any trouble finding the place?’ he asked.

‘I’ve been here before. When I was a speaker at the St Hilda’s conference, several of us met here for dinner one night.’

‘Right, I remember. A book critic and some authors were with you.’

‘It was a fun night. They were swamped by autograph seekers.’

‘I’m sure you were as well,’ St. Just said loyally. Indeed, he’d been with Portia on more than one occasion when a fan approached to thank her for writing her books. Portia was always gracious and genuinely flattered, but he could also tell she was flustered. ‘If I wanted attention I’d go on the stage,’ she always said. ‘Or become a TikTok influencer.’

‘I’m nowhere near as recognizable as some crime fiction authors and I don’t care to be,’ she said now. ‘Truly. It would be like the Princess of Wales trying to shop for tomatoes in Waitrose. I couldn’t stand to be hounded all the time, with flash cameras going off in my face and people going through my rubbish bin. I want to be able to go to the shops and eat my restaurant meals in peace, ta very much.’

‘When would you find time to write?’

‘Precisely. Plus, I’d be too busy trying to get my videocam to work so I could post selfies to Instagram. Anyway, this place is wonderfully spooky and atmospheric at night, with an old-timey medieval vibe. Ghosts in every corner, headless women, men dragging chains. And that jagged lane you must take to get here – at night it gives you the shivers, even in a group, especially in the part that dog-legs around, where anyone could be lying in wait.

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