Mr Campion's Coven by Mike Ripley

Author:Mike Ripley [Ripley, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2021-02-11T00:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

Conjuration

In Tillingham at The Oyster Shack, Mrs Young took the sort of telephone call she lived for.

‘Of course we can fit you in, Mr Wyndham. Just the one night, is it? No, it doesn’t matter what time you arrive; we have no plans for this evening and I’ve got time to nip to the shops to get things in for your breakfast … What’s that? You want to be out on the marshes at dawn? Goodness me, that’s keen … I could leave some sandwiches out for you. It is the most important meal of the day, they say … Well, if you’re sure. The early bird catches the worm; and who knows that better than a birdwatcher?’

In London, Mason Lowell spent the morning organizing his notes and making contact with ‘trusted sources’ recommended by Professor Luger at King’s College and the London Library. He was persuaded to join Lugg for a pub lunch at The Guinea in Bruton Place, where he looked at one of the hostelry’s famed steak pies, despite assurance that it did not contain kidney or other ‘organ meats’, with the same suspicion with which Lugg regarded his glass of fizzy cola, something not improved, in Lugg’s opinion, by the addition of a slice of lemon and an ice cube.

Mistaking Lugg’s beatific expression produced by his appreciation of Young’s Special Bitter for one of interest in his pet subject, Mason, using the notebook he now seemed to carry everywhere, sketched out a plan of Wicken drawn from his visit and information supplied by Mr Campion, each property represented by an annotated rectangle.

From top to bottom it read:

??

??

?

??

Mary Ann Allen

Abigail Cottage: Silence Jones

CHAPEL

Mr & Mrs Worskitt

‘You’ve got a lot of question marks there,’ said Lugg, sipping his pint contemplatively.

‘I need to get a better handle on the location of the Wicken population to fill in the gaps.’

‘Why?’

‘So I know who might be approachable and who to avoid.’

Lugg’s eyes narrowed. ‘There are some there who need avoiding?’

‘I got that impression yesterday,’ said Mason hesitantly.

‘Oh, you did, did yer? And what gave you that idea?’

Reluctantly Mason told of their disconcerting experience with the three Wicken men who had made it clear they were no longer welcome, describing the event as a stand-off rather than a showdown.

‘They don’t sound a friendly bunch, but that’s not unusual for the badlands of Essex. You might have your wild west but we’ve got our wild east.’

Mason cracked a smile. ‘Yeah, it did feel like we were being run out of town.’

‘You’re not going to stand for that, are you? You bein’ a rootin’-tootin’ cowboy, are you?’

‘If you mean am I going back there, you bet I am. But not with Perdita.’

Lugg looked at the young American with something akin to approval. ‘Good lad.’

Mary Ann Allen drove home from work in the dark, having stayed to assist with Dr Fathoms’s evening surgery. She was used to driving the narrow, unlit roads and darker, narrower lanes on the peninsula; even in deepest winter, when the

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