freelance but we often worked together. She was good, always on the lookout for a new angle.’ His voice sounded a
little unsteady now, as if the full horror of Wesley’s news had begun to dawn.
‘Did she tell you the name of the celebrity?’
‘Only that he was down to the last two in this show, whatever it was. Something to do with farming, I think. I don’t watch
things like that myself,’ he added with a hint of distain.
Wesley felt a glow of satisfaction. Maybe this would be easier than he’d imagined.
‘Do you know where we can find her next of kin? We need a proper identification.’
‘No idea. Sorry. But I think she came from Yorkshire, judging by her accent. It wasn’t something we ever discussed.’
‘Was she married?’
‘No. And before you ask, I don’t know if there’s a boyfriend on the scene just now … although she was no nun. Boo was a woman
with a healthy appetite.’ Something in Sericold’s voice suggested that he might once have been on the receiving end of Ms
Flecker’s carnal largesse.
‘Is Boo Flecker her real name?’
‘As far as I know. I asked her once what Boo was short for and she said it was Boudicca. Apparently her father was some kind
of historian.’
‘Can you remember anything else about her or the story she was working on down here?’ he said. ‘Anything at all.’ Through
the glass screen he could see the mortuary assistant wheeling the body away to lie in refrigerated peace until someone came
to claim her.
Sericold didn’t answer for a few moments, as though he was trying to dredge something from the depths of his memory. ‘Actually
she did leave a message on my voicemail a couple of days ago but it was a bit vague. I was to stand by. She might need me
to get down there. She said she thought she could be onto something new.’
‘About the celebrity?’
‘That’s what I assumed. She said she’d let me know when she knew for definite. I’ve been waiting for her toget in touch but she hasn’t. That’s all I can tell you, I’m afraid.’
‘Have you got an address for her?’
He heard a shuffling sound, as if Sericold was looking through a diary or address book. After a while he recited an address
in Southwark and when Wesley asked him whether Boo had lived alone, he said he didn’t know.
‘Have you got a photo of Boo Flecker by any chance?’ he asked, hoping the answer would be yes. The sooner they had a positive
ID, the better.
‘I can arrange to e-mail you the photo she uses for her column. Would that be all right?’
‘That’d be fantastic.’
Once Wesley had recited his e-mail address he ended the call. And a few minutes later the image came through on his iPhone.
There was no doubt about it now. The dead woman was Boo Flecker, daughter of the historian who’d named her after the vengeful
queen of the Iceni. And that meant they had to find out exactly what she was up to in Devon as soon as possible.
It was all too likely that Boo Flecker’s investigation had been about to uncover a secret that somebody was determined to
keep hidden. And men had killed for less.
Chapter 6
Written by Alison Hadness, September 11th 1643
I hear that the army is led by Prince Maurice who is nephew to the King himself. I have heard say that his brother, Prince
Rupert is most handsome but I have heard little of Maurice. I wonder if I shall see him
.
They are camped at Hilton Farm, having claimed the place for their headquarters. It is not far from Mercy Hall and I fear
they may come at night, bent on conquest of our town. William says I am foolish to have such fears as his musket is ever beside
him and he will fight to the death to defend our household
.
The weather is foul, all rain, wind and mist. It is to be hoped the King’s soldiers will yield to this sign of God’s displeasure
.
Yesterday I went into the town with my maidservant, Dorcas. The people there no longer smile, rather their faces are stern
and
little unsteady now, as if the full horror of Wesley’s news had begun to dawn.
‘Did she tell you the name of the celebrity?’
‘Only that he was down to the last two in this show, whatever it was. Something to do with farming, I think. I don’t watch
things like that myself,’ he added with a hint of distain.
Wesley felt a glow of satisfaction. Maybe this would be easier than he’d imagined.
‘Do you know where we can find her next of kin? We need a proper identification.’
‘No idea. Sorry. But I think she came from Yorkshire, judging by her accent. It wasn’t something we ever discussed.’
‘Was she married?’
‘No. And before you ask, I don’t know if there’s a boyfriend on the scene just now … although she was no nun. Boo was a woman
with a healthy appetite.’ Something in Sericold’s voice suggested that he might once have been on the receiving end of Ms
Flecker’s carnal largesse.
‘Is Boo Flecker her real name?’
‘As far as I know. I asked her once what Boo was short for and she said it was Boudicca. Apparently her father was some kind
of historian.’
‘Can you remember anything else about her or the story she was working on down here?’ he said. ‘Anything at all.’ Through
the glass screen he could see the mortuary assistant wheeling the body away to lie in refrigerated peace until someone came
to claim her.
Sericold didn’t answer for a few moments, as though he was trying to dredge something from the depths of his memory. ‘Actually
she did leave a message on my voicemail a couple of days ago but it was a bit vague. I was to stand by. She might need me
to get down there. She said she thought she could be onto something new.’
‘About the celebrity?’
‘That’s what I assumed. She said she’d let me know when she knew for definite. I’ve been waiting for her toget in touch but she hasn’t. That’s all I can tell you, I’m afraid.’
‘Have you got an address for her?’
He heard a shuffling sound, as if Sericold was looking through a diary or address book. After a while he recited an address
in Southwark and when Wesley asked him whether Boo had lived alone, he said he didn’t know.
‘Have you got a photo of Boo Flecker by any chance?’ he asked, hoping the answer would be yes. The sooner they had a positive
ID, the better.
‘I can arrange to e-mail you the photo she uses for her column. Would that be all right?’
‘That’d be fantastic.’
Once Wesley had recited his e-mail address he ended the call. And a few minutes later the image came through on his iPhone.
There was no doubt about it now. The dead woman was Boo Flecker, daughter of the historian who’d named her after the vengeful
queen of the Iceni. And that meant they had to find out exactly what she was up to in Devon as soon as possible.
It was all too likely that Boo Flecker’s investigation had been about to uncover a secret that somebody was determined to
keep hidden. And men had killed for less.
Chapter 6
Written by Alison Hadness, September 11th 1643
I hear that the army is led by Prince Maurice who is nephew to the King himself. I have heard say that his brother, Prince
Rupert is most handsome but I have heard little of Maurice. I wonder if I shall see him
.
They are camped at Hilton Farm, having claimed the place for their headquarters. It is not far from Mercy Hall and I fear
they may come at night, bent on conquest of our town. William says I am foolish to have such fears as his musket is ever beside
him and he will fight to the death to defend our household
.
The weather is foul, all rain, wind and mist. It is to be hoped the King’s soldiers will yield to this sign of God’s displeasure
.
Yesterday I went into the town with my maidservant, Dorcas. The people there no longer smile, rather their faces are stern
and
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