Page 24 of The Cursed Writer
Harry nodded and shifted her attention to the winding blue strip that represented the River Cam. ‘See how the Cam joins up with this larger river – the Great Ouse, which goes all the way up to King’s Lynn. I suppose the international barges come in there, through The Wash, and then travel down the river network, picking up and dropping off as required.’
Oliver studied the map. ‘And look, these little strands must be the lodes she mentioned. There are quite a few of them.’
Harry squinted at the tiny print. ‘A lot of them are still in use. But not the one here.’ She looked up, wondering where the lode ran in relation to the houses, and saw a dark-haired young woman walking purposefully towards them from the direction of the shop. As she got nearer, Harry saw she carried two glasses of water.
‘Hello,’ she said, smiling. ‘You look lost.’
‘We are,’ Harry said agreeably, seizing on the ready-made excuse. ‘It’s his fault for not following my directions.’
Oliver blinked, then caught on. ‘Oh, rubbish. You just can’t read a map.’
‘I thought that must be it. We don’t get many cars stopping here otherwise.’ She held out the glasses of water. ‘Here. Why don’t you have these while I try to point you in the right direction?’
Both Oliver and Harry took a glass each. ‘We’re heading for Ely,’ Harry lied. ‘I hear the cathedral is wonderful.’
The young woman nodded. ‘It certainly is.’ She pointed at the map. ‘You’re not too far off course. Just follow this road for around a mile, then turn right at this fork here. You should be able to follow the signposts after that.’
Harry took a long sip of water. ‘Thank you. Actually, you might be able to help with something else. We’re planning a walking holiday along the River Cam once the weather warms up and I can see there are lots of little stream things to explore.’ She traced a vague circle on the map. ‘Are they worth looking at? There seems to be one in this very village.’
The woman’s smile dimmed a little. ‘You mean the lodes. They’re used for goods transportation. Not what you’d call scenic – you’d be better off sticking to the river.’
‘Oh, that’s such a shame,’ Harry twittered, ignoring the covert look Oliver was firing her way. ‘I was hoping they might take us into the fens. We’re keen birdwatchers, you see.’
‘Really, I wouldn’t bother,’ the other woman said. ‘Like I said, the lodes are mostly industrial and the fens themselves can be dangerous if you don’t know them well. There are better places to go for birdwatching.’ She held out a hand for the glasses. ‘I expect you’ll be wanting to get on your way. Just follow the road until you get to the fork. You can’t go wrong.’
Oliver let out a long-suffering sigh and got to his feet. ‘You haven’t seen her map reading.’
Picking up the folded map, Harry used it to tap him on the arm. ‘That’s quite enough of that.’ She smiled at the young woman. ‘Cheerio, then. Thanks for taking the trouble to come over.’
‘It’s no trouble at all,’ she replied. ‘Goodbye. Safe travels.’
Oliver kept one eye on the rear-view mirror as they made their way out of the village. ‘Is she still watching us?’ Harry asked.
‘Absolutely,’ Oliver said. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was making sure we’re actually leaving.’
Harry nodded. ‘I got the impression she didn’t entirely trust us.’
‘Me too.’ Oliver frowned as they rounded a corner and Morden village disappeared from sight. ‘I wonder why.’
It was something Harry wondered about too, but perhaps they were both reading too much into it. People in small villages could often be mistrustful of strangers – it didn’t have to mean anything. They drove in silence for a short while, punctuated only by Harry’s directions. It was only when they reached the long, straight road that led to London that Harry was disagreeably reminded of a problem she had almost forgotten about while at Thrumwell Manor: the uninvited guest who had been in her office. ‘There’s something else I wanted your opinion on,’ she said slowly to Oliver, unsure about the wisdom of telling him. ‘Something worrying happened last week. I think someone broke into my office.’
His hands tightened on the wheel as he glanced over at her in shock. ‘At the bank?’
She dipped her head. ‘Yes.’
‘Who? And to what end?’
‘I don’t know,’ Harry admitted. ‘Nothing was taken. I can only assume they were looking for information, perhaps about the telegrams Holmes has received or my own work.’
Oliver let out a doubtful huff. ‘But who would be interested enough in those to break into your office?’
‘Someone who wanted to know what the telegram was about,’ Harry replied. ‘But I won’t know who that is until I catch them.’
‘Catch them?’ he echoed. ‘That sounds foolhardy, Harry. What are you planning?’
‘A trap. One that will hopefully make them easy to identify.’
‘And then what?’ he asked, with mounting alarm.
