looks like you’ve had enough of her lies, she throws out something to draw you back in again. Look,’ he said like he’d had a slight change of heart, ‘I know she seems like a really cool chick, and she’s helped us out a few times, but please just be careful, OK?’
I was hardly even listening to Boges because I’d just seen an oddly familiar name at the bottomof a message on my blog. It was the name that old Barty had made me repeat before he died at “Kilkenny”. The name!
‘What are you staring at? What is it?’ Boges demanded, seeing the look on my face.
‘Look! He’s here! That’s him!’
‘What’s there? What’s him? What are you talking about?’
‘The solicitor whose name I couldn’t remember ! That’s him! Sheldrake Rathbone!’
Boges stared at the screen. Then back at me. ‘Excuse me?’
‘It’s him! The solicitor! The solicitor who has the Piers Ormond will!’
Boges and I stared at each other.
‘Dude! What are you waiting for?’
‘But what if he’s a fake? And couldn’t the cops hack into this?’
‘I’ve got it all wrapped up pretty tight,’ my friend assured. ‘Let’s check out the security questions.’
I submitted my answers, then looked at Boges for his response when a message came up requesting a contact number.
‘Don’t do it,’ was his answer. ‘Ask for his.’
In the box I typed, ‘I’d prefer to have yours, thanks.’
25 JULY
160 days to go …
I’d checked my blog, using my phone, about twenty times since Boges had left last night, anxious to see whether Sheldrake Rathbone had left a number for me to call.
When a message with his number finally showed up, I dialled right away.
‘You are a hard young man to track down,’ Rathbone said to me.
‘I intend on it staying that way. I guess you understand I’m not living a normal sort of life right now.’
‘Indeed I do. Please let me assure you of my complete discretion. It is my belief that you are innocent of the charges brought against you. You have been engaged in research concerning the Ormond Singularity?’
I was silent. I didn’t know what I should admit to him, what I should give away.
‘I am in possession of a certain document,’Rathbone continued, ‘which I believe will be very helpful when you combine it with the other things you may have already discovered. I acted as solicitor for some of the older members of your family. Your family has been in our firm’s care for generations.’
‘My Great-uncle Bartholomew told me your name,’ I said. ‘He said you were holding his great-uncle’s will. Piers Ormond—a soldier who died in the First World War. And possibly other documents, too.’
‘That is correct. Our firm holds many thousands of such documents from earlier generations. However there are certain complications that have occurred concerning this particular document .’
‘Like what?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘A client of mine informs me that you have in your possession a valuable piece of jewellery and an old manuscript. Is this correct?’
I hesitated. How did he know that?
‘How come you’re so interested in me and my family?’ I asked.
‘It is my business to know all about the family’s affairs. I have an excellent investigator who keeps me up to date with things I need to know. As well, I have private contacts, people who provide information for me. My client needs tobe sure you’re holding these items. She wants me to confirm it because she potentially has something of great importance for you.’
‘Who is your client?’
‘I’m not at liberty to tell you just yet. All in due course.’
I thought about that for a moment. I’d need to talk to Boges. The Jewel and the Riddle had cost me a lot. I didn’t want to be flashing them around the place, even to a solicitor like Rathbone.
‘When can we meet?’ he asked.
The sound of a car pulling up outside distracted me.
‘I’ll call you back,’ I said, before hanging up.
Car doors were
I was hardly even listening to Boges because I’d just seen an oddly familiar name at the bottomof a message on my blog. It was the name that old Barty had made me repeat before he died at “Kilkenny”. The name!
‘What are you staring at? What is it?’ Boges demanded, seeing the look on my face.
‘Look! He’s here! That’s him!’
‘What’s there? What’s him? What are you talking about?’
‘The solicitor whose name I couldn’t remember ! That’s him! Sheldrake Rathbone!’
Boges stared at the screen. Then back at me. ‘Excuse me?’
‘It’s him! The solicitor! The solicitor who has the Piers Ormond will!’
Boges and I stared at each other.
‘Dude! What are you waiting for?’
‘But what if he’s a fake? And couldn’t the cops hack into this?’
‘I’ve got it all wrapped up pretty tight,’ my friend assured. ‘Let’s check out the security questions.’
I submitted my answers, then looked at Boges for his response when a message came up requesting a contact number.
‘Don’t do it,’ was his answer. ‘Ask for his.’
In the box I typed, ‘I’d prefer to have yours, thanks.’
25 JULY
160 days to go …
I’d checked my blog, using my phone, about twenty times since Boges had left last night, anxious to see whether Sheldrake Rathbone had left a number for me to call.
When a message with his number finally showed up, I dialled right away.
‘You are a hard young man to track down,’ Rathbone said to me.
‘I intend on it staying that way. I guess you understand I’m not living a normal sort of life right now.’
‘Indeed I do. Please let me assure you of my complete discretion. It is my belief that you are innocent of the charges brought against you. You have been engaged in research concerning the Ormond Singularity?’
I was silent. I didn’t know what I should admit to him, what I should give away.
‘I am in possession of a certain document,’Rathbone continued, ‘which I believe will be very helpful when you combine it with the other things you may have already discovered. I acted as solicitor for some of the older members of your family. Your family has been in our firm’s care for generations.’
‘My Great-uncle Bartholomew told me your name,’ I said. ‘He said you were holding his great-uncle’s will. Piers Ormond—a soldier who died in the First World War. And possibly other documents, too.’
‘That is correct. Our firm holds many thousands of such documents from earlier generations. However there are certain complications that have occurred concerning this particular document .’
‘Like what?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘A client of mine informs me that you have in your possession a valuable piece of jewellery and an old manuscript. Is this correct?’
I hesitated. How did he know that?
‘How come you’re so interested in me and my family?’ I asked.
‘It is my business to know all about the family’s affairs. I have an excellent investigator who keeps me up to date with things I need to know. As well, I have private contacts, people who provide information for me. My client needs tobe sure you’re holding these items. She wants me to confirm it because she potentially has something of great importance for you.’
‘Who is your client?’
‘I’m not at liberty to tell you just yet. All in due course.’
I thought about that for a moment. I’d need to talk to Boges. The Jewel and the Riddle had cost me a lot. I didn’t want to be flashing them around the place, even to a solicitor like Rathbone.
‘When can we meet?’ he asked.
The sound of a car pulling up outside distracted me.
‘I’ll call you back,’ I said, before hanging up.
Car doors were
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