Coincidence? It must be, yet Webb wasn’t sure he believed in coincidence.
‘It’s probably valuable,’ he said. ‘We’d better take it for safekeeping — I’ll let young Soames know in the morning.’ He opened the wardrobe door and shone the torch inside.
‘There’s a box of tissue paper in here. Wrap it all up, Ken. Carefully, now. Those legs and trunks are delicate.’
‘Reckon the little French granddaughter’d like this,’ Jackson commented, as he spread the paper on the bed and began his task. ‘I’m surprised Mr Kershaw didn’t take it for her.’
‘It’s hardly a toy, Ken.’ But Webb, too, was surprised the Ark had been left behind. They’d found no jewellery or other valuables in the house, though circles on dusty surfaces downstairs indicated where ornaments might have stood. Perhaps Kershaw already had as much as he could carry — he’d not had a car, after all. He might have intended to return for the Ark later, but the queries that were exercising Webb would not have troubled him. As far as he was concerned, it would have been simply another of his mother’s belongings.
‘Hurry up, Ken,’ Webb said suddenly, ‘this place is starting to give me the willies.’
*
As soon as he reached his flat, Webb took the large bundle of tissue paper through to the living-room and laid it carefully on the wide surface of his desk. Then he poured himself a drink and lit the gas fire, briefly holding out his hands to the glow. It had been cold in the empty old house and he was still chilled.
Taking his glass with him, he went over to the desk, sat down on the chair in front of it and carefully began to unwrap the tissue paper. By the time the doorbell sounded, the Ark stood in pride of place and some ten sets of animals were laid out in front of it.
Hannah was waiting outside. ‘There’s a pleasant surprise!’ he said, kissing her. ‘Come in — I’ve something to show you.’
‘And I’ve something to tell you.’
She walked ahead of him into the living-room and he heard her exclamation of surprise. ‘What an exquisite thing, David! Where did you find that?’
‘In the house of an old lady who died recently.’
‘You mean you’ve bought it?’
‘No, but it’s too valuable to be left in the empty house.’ She took the drink he handed her. ‘And what were you doing there? Had the old lady met a nasty end?’
‘Not as far as I know.’ He paused. ‘But her son had.’
‘Explain,’ Hannah instructed, sipping her drink.
‘The body at the King’s Head. You might have read about it.’
‘I saw something in the paper.’
‘Well, while I’ve been looking into it — and it’s complicated enough in all conscience — Nina Petrie, as I told you, has been sussing out the Revelationists. Two entirely separate investigations. Then, out of the blue, I come across this.’
‘And you think there’s a connection?’
‘It’s possible, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Any luck with Nina’s sleuthing?’
‘I’ve called a halt to it,’ Webb said shortly.
She looked at him sharply. ‘Why?’
‘Partly at her recommendation and partly because of her change of attitude. She’s done a complete about-turn — can’t speak highly enough of them.’
‘I don’t think I like the sound of that.’
‘Nor did I.’
‘David, it’s because of the cult that I called.’ She opened her handbag and extracted a cassette. ‘At least, I assume this is their work. Play it and see what you think. I confiscated it from two fifth-form girls.’
Thus it was that Webb was able to hear for himself the mesmeric voice of Noah Bellringer which Nina had struggled to describe for him, and the message it imparted was honeyed poison.
This version was aimed at young people, warning them to trust no one, since everyone outside the movement was evil and would try to discredit the Revelationists. Parents and teachers in particular were liable to spread false stories, and must be treated with suspicion.
‘Remember,’ the persuasive voice emphasized, ‘Satan has always tried to harm those who serve the Lord. Didn’t our Lord himself say, He that is not with me is against me? You will meet scorn, ridicule and abuse on all sides but I say to you, Be strong! Trust only in the Lord and his servant Noah Bellringer and together we shall survive.’
The voice faded and after a minute there was a small click as the machine switched itself off.
‘Strong stuff,’ Webb commented. ‘I’d like someone to have a look at that; I’m pretty sure it contains subliminal material, probably in the background music.’ He looked at Hannah’s grave face. ‘Did you speak to the girls about it?’
‘Yes, separately.’
‘And what did they say?’
‘Very little. I felt I wasn’t getting through to them at all. Unfortunately, they’re ideal targets for the Revvies; their respective parents are too caught up in their own affairs — business interests in one case, marital difficulties in the other — to pay them much attention.’
‘So what will you do?’
‘I’ve arranged to see their parents — I’ve no intention of taking sole responsibility for this. Anyway, if the girls did go to that meeting — which so far they haven’t admitted — it was while they were under their parents’ jurisdiction. Of course you can take the cassette, but not till after I’ve played it to them.’
She paused. ‘I wonder if DI Petrie was subjected to something like that.’
‘I hope not. I should never have let her get involved in the first place; she’s just the sort they cotton on to — youngish, divorced, probably lonely. I’ll have an eye kept on them, but at least Nina’s safely out of it.’
*
At the precise moment of Webb’s comforting reflection, Nina herself was seated in the kitchen at Victoria Drive, a feeling of excitement pumping through her. There were ten of them round the table. Sarah and Mattie weren’t there but she’d met Ruth and Annabel, whom she’d seen at the meeting handing round coffee cups. They were all so friendly and welcoming; it was obvious she’d been accepted, as Daniel’s friend and almost certainly as a potential member of the Movement.
‘You join as an Initiate,’ Brad Lübekker was saying in answer to her question, ‘and progress to Seeker, like the young people here.’ His glance took in Liz, Lucy, and the boys who’d been talking to the schoolgirls on her first visit, now identified as Terry and Vince.
‘And then what?’ she asked.
Brad smiled. ‘I can see there’ll be no holding you! Gospeller comes next, but you need to take a four-week course to prepare for it.’
He refilled her glass with apple juice. ‘You see, as a Gospeller you’re required to write your own testament, or gospel, setting out your personal faith and experience of God. At the millennium, a selection of the most inspiring will be bound together to form a third and Final Testament.’
He glanced at her, pleased at her interest. ‘We all have knowledge of God, Nina, but only a fraction is revealed to each one of us. By pooling our spiritual knowledge, we aim to complete the jigsaw of God’s design and purpose for us.
‘As you’ll appreciate, people remain as Gospeller for several years, taking further courses during that time to assist their work. Daniel and Adam here are Gospellers, as are Sarah and Matilda, whom I believe you’ve also met.’
‘And after Gospeller comes Pastor,’ Adam put in, ‘and then, right at the top, the Elders of the Movement, Prelates — like Brad — and High Priests.’
‘And you say the Movement is world-wide?’
‘Virtually, yes, but we’re working against the clock. We must save as many as we can before the waters start to rise.’
Nina shuddered at the suddenly serious note in his voice, which dispelled the warm cosiness of their circle.
‘Let us pray,’ he added, ‘that none of us will be found wanting in the task that lies ahead.’
Unselfconsciously
, they bowed their heads and Nina, listening to the words which poured so passionately from the Prelate, wondered how she could ever have doubted such a sincere and devout group of people.
Then it was time for her to go, and after she’d made her farewells, Daniel walked with her along the corridor to the front door. ‘It’s good to have you with us, Nina,’ he said softly. ‘I knew from the first that you were meant to join us.’
‘Did you?’ She looked up at him, and he suddenly bent and kissed her mouth. Her response was immediate but she held it down, fearful of the consequences of too swift a commitment. He was, after all, the first man to attract her since Ross had left. It was essential to remain in control.
‘Good night, Daniel,’ she said and, without looking back, ran down the steps and through the gate. Her mother, she knew, would be anxiously waiting. What was she going to tell her this time?
*
When Christina had arrived home that evening, there was a message from the school on the answerphone. Miss James would be grateful if Mr and Mrs French would call to see her at three o’clock the following afternoon, to discuss a problem that had arisen.
‘A bit high-handed, isn’t it?’ Christina said over supper. ‘We’re busy people, after all; we can’t drop everything the minute she lifts a finger.’
‘That’s hardly fair, darling. She’s never sent for us before — there must be a good reason.’
Edward had a high opinion of Miss James. In fact, he was more comfortable with her than with Miss Rutherford who, though admittedly the possessor of a double first, nevertheless struck him as woolly-headed, flapping around as she did, spraying hairpins in all directions. Miss James was quite different, sensible and easy to talk to and an attractive woman into the bargain, with that heavy, honey-coloured hair.
‘I don’t see why it couldn’t have waited till Parents’ Evening,’ Christina retorted.
Edward was struck by a disturbing thought. ‘I wonder if Stephie’s been playing up? She was behaving oddly last weekend — I told you — what with that vegetarian nonsense and throwing away all her make-up.’
Christina realized uncomfortably that she hadn’t given a thought either to her daughter or her behaviour since the night Edward mentioned it. She made no further comment, but when the meal was over, went up to Stephanie’s room.
As soon as she entered it she was aware of something different, something which, though she couldn’t at first put her finger on it, disquieted her. Then she saw that the pictures of pop stars which normally decorated the walls had been removed and in their place a solitary piece of crumpled paper was stuck up with Blu-tack. Moving nearer, she made out the smudged outline of a triangle with a semi-circle behind it.
For a moment she stared at it, trying to make sense of it, then, baffled, turned away and her eyes fell on the wastepaper basket. As Edward had said, it was full of the jumbled contents of Stephie’s make-up drawer — expensive and almost new lipsticks, the bottle of scent which had been her birthday present, eyeshadows, blusher and hair ribbons.
Instead of its normal clutter, the dressing-table was bare except for a small, empty jeweller’s box. Christina recognized it as having contained the gold cross and chain which Stephie had been given by her godmother at her confirmation. At the time she’d worn it constantly, though, Christina suspected, more as ornament than emblem, being the only form of jewellery permitted by the school.
But that was years ago and she couldn’t remember when she’d last seen it. So where was the cross now? Had it been lost, given away? Or had Stephie started wearing it again? And if so, did this tie in with the discarded make-up, the rejection of meat?
Sometimes girls went through a religious phase in their teens, Christina thought. That’s probably all it was, though it must have been a sudden and extreme conversion. Was this what Miss James wanted to speak to them about?
Looking round the bare walls, Christina had an irrational desire to see again the grinning face of Jason Donovan. She gave an involuntary little shiver and went hurriedly out of the room, closing the door carefully behind her.
Chapter 9
‘Ken? Bring the car round, will you? I want to see Miss Preston again.’
‘Right, Guv.’ Jackson raised his eyebrows. He couldn’t imagine what more the housekeeper could tell them, but no doubt Spiderman knew what he was doing.
‘Something else come up, has it?’ he asked, as they drove along Carrington Street.
‘It’s about the Ark,’ Webb said briefly.
‘The Noah’s Ark? That we found in the house?’
‘The very same. You said yourself it was an odd thing for an old lady to have. I want to know how long she’s had it and where it came from.’
Light began to dawn. ‘You think she might have been in touch with that lot the DI was looking into?’
‘That, my lad, is what I intend to find out.’
This time it was the owner of the bungalow who opened the door.
‘If you’re looking for my sister she’s in the back garden,’ she told them. ‘You can go round the side of the house.’
Webb thanked her and in single file they made their way through the narrow side-gate. The back garden was ablaze with multi-coloured chrysanthemums and dahlias and edged with bright-berried shrubs. In the centre of a paved area stood an old-fashioned sundial, and at the far end Webb could see a small pond with an artificial heron standing beside it. The effect was of a stately home garden in miniature, charming, but over-fussy for his taste.
Miss Preston, clad in cord trousers, sweater and boots, turned in surprise at their approach. ‘Good morning, Chief Inspector. I wasn’t expecting another visit!’
‘No, ma’am, nor was I, but there are a few more questions, I’m afraid.’
‘Then let’s sit on the bench in the sunshine,’ she suggested, leading the way to an old garden seat under an apple tree. ‘Now,’ as they all settled themselves, ‘fire away!’
‘First, I forgot to ask you what Mrs Kershaw died of?’
‘Oh, it was her heart — she’d been on tablets for years. She didn’t have an attack, as far as we know, just went peacefully in her sleep.’
‘I see.’ It seemed innocuous enough but he’d check with her GP. ‘The other thing I was wondering was whether she had any friends who came to visit her?’
‘Well, if you could call them friends. There were some young people who kept popping round. I thought she’d get tired of them for ever looking in, but she was always glad to see them. I suppose she’d missed the company of young people over the years.’
‘Were they children of friends?’ Webb asked, though he thought he knew the answer.
‘Oh no, nothing like that. The girl called one day collecting for charity, and while I was looking in my purse, she remarked on an old tree that was leaning over the path. She said it looked dangerous, and she had a friend who’d be willing to cut it down for us if we liked.
‘I went to ask Mrs Kershaw, and she told me to take the girl in to see her. Lucy, her name was. So it was all arranged and at the weekend a young man came round, and I must say he made a very good job of it. Didn’t seem to want any money for it, either. In the end he suggested Mrs Kershaw made a donation to the same charity, which she did.
‘And it went on from there. He and another lad started doing all sorts of jobs around the house — putting new washers on taps, changing plugs, clearing out gutters. The girls helped out, too, Lucy and a friend of hers — and gradually they started dropping in for tea or to spend the evening. Mrs Kershaw seemed charmed with them.
‘I was suspicious for a while, wondering if they were planning to burgle the house once they knew the layout. Nor did I like leaving the old lady alone with them, and even though I wasn’t needed, I made excuses for staying in the house. But I soon realized that I’d wronged them. They seemed genuinely fond of her and she of them. And they all came to her funeral, which is more than most people did.’
‘Did you ever join them f
or tea?’
‘No; once I’d left it ready, the afternoon was my own. In fact, I had more free time over the last few months than during all the years I was with her.’
‘What were the others called?’
‘There was Ruth and Vince, and the other young man was Terry, I think. Oh, and Liz, but she only came once or twice. I never heard any surnames.’
‘What did you think of them? Did you like them?’
Miss Preston hesitated, brushing a leaf off her cord trousers. ‘There was nothing about them to dislike.’
‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
She smiled. ‘I realize that, but I can’t really give a straight answer. They were always friendly and charming and yet — this sounds ridiculous — I felt they were too good to be true. And I suppose I resented them coming so often, which, again, was stupid, because it meant I had time to myself.’
‘You felt they were trying to ingratiate themselves?’
‘Yes, that’s it exactly! That’s just what I felt.’
‘Did they ever bring her presents?’
Miss Preston looked surprised. ‘Presents? I don’t think so.’
‘Miss Preston, Sergeant Jackson and I went round to the house last evening and we found an elaborately carved Noah’s Ark complete with animals. Quite a work of art.’
‘Oh — the Ark, yes.’
‘Can you tell us about it? Had Mrs Kershaw had it long?’
‘No, only a few weeks, but it wasn’t from the young people, that was from someone else. I’d forgotten about him.’
‘And who was he?’
‘I don’t know his name — that was the only time I saw him. He came to the house one evening a week or two before she died. He must have brought it, because I saw it for the first time after he’d gone.’
‘Had he any connection with the others?’
‘I shouldn’t think so — he was quite a bit older. But Mrs Kershaw never discussed any of them with me — she was a very private person. She didn’t say who the man was or why he’d called, and it wasn’t my place to ask.’
‘Did she make any comment on the Ark?’
The Gospel Makers Page 11