The Buried Circle. Jenni Mills
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Название: The Buried Circle
Автор: Jenni Mills
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
isbn: 9780007335695
isbn:
‘But not one we should waste time answering this morning,’ said Mrs Sorel-Taylour, briskly. ‘It’s nearly Miss Robinson’s lunch break, and there are at least half a dozen finds in that crate you haven’t begun to look at.’
At twelve thirty exactly Mrs Sorel-Taylour would send me off for lunch, and usually I’d wander across the cobbles to the barn in the hope of finding Davey polishing one of the cars. He wasn’t often there. He’d be on the road, maybe driving Mr Keiller to some dinner in Mayfair, or fetching more boxes of stuff from Charles Street where Mr K had his London house.
Today I wasn’t sure if I was glad or not there was no sign of him. I kept thinking of the great big chalk thing Mr Keiller had been carrying the night Davey and I watched the ceremony in the garden. Whatever had he done with it when they disappeared between the box hedges?
I wanted to ask Mrs Sorel-Taylour what she’d seen. If she was there, it couldn’t have been anything too dreadful, could it? Surely Mr Keiller wouldn’t…
There was a step behind me on the cobbles. I whipped round to see Mr Cromley crossing the stable yard towards the Manor. He’d been there too that night, I remembered, the moonlight silvering his light brown hair. ‘Mr Cromley!’ I called.
He turned and came towards me. ‘What can I do for you, Miss Robinson?’
He was delicate-looking, but strong too. I’d seen him lift them crates effortlessly from the floor.
‘I was interested in what you were saying in there,’ I said. ‘But what I was wondering was…how you know what they did?’
His face lit up in a smile. ‘Always pleased to enlighten the genuinely curious,’ he said, eyes raking me like I was a seed patch. ‘It’s all conjecture, of course, but I’ve made a study of primitive magic, in various parts of the world.’ I’d thought of him as cynical and knowing, but now he seemed surprisingly young and earnest. ‘The urge for ritual is always close to the surface, even in modern life. There must be superstitions in the village connected to the stones.’
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