Forthcoming Atrocities

7. Clues

'Cool,' she pointed at the sheet of musical notes in the portrait 'More squiggles.'

'Yes, indeed.' I gave her a kiss on her forehead. 'You've just shown me the next clue, Tabs. Pepys wrote his diaries in a kind of shorthand – a code, made up of squiggles. I bet the marks on the gravestone in the picture are written in that code.' I googled my way to the website of Magdalene College Cambridge, which Pepys had attended. It showed an example of their original copy of Pepys's diary.

'Wow,' Tabitha stared, open-mouthed, 'the same sort of squiggles. Can you read them?'

I couldn't. I scrolled down to check the name of the speed-writing system Pepys had used. A Thomas Shelton had invented it, I discovered, and it had also been used by a more famous Cambridge student, Sir Isaac Newton. 'I can't read it, but I know a man who can.'

I took a picture of the gravestone on my phone. I would send it to Rio later.

'Is this book from your work?' asked Tabitha as she started lifting the copied sheets of the chapter headings to look at other images.

'The book was given to me by the woman who wrote it. I think she wanted me to find these clues.'

'Why didn't she just tell you what she knew.'

'Shortly after she gave me the book, she got into trouble and now she's missing.'

'Mum said you were involved with the filth.'

I grinned. 'A very pleasant police lady is looking for her. I've been helping.'

'I bet these clues will help you find her.' She flicked through to fourth chapter heading image alongside the Arabic script that I now knew meant 'Of Flood'. Tabitha pointed to it. 'Let's do this one next.'

Part Two – Black-Bellied Darter

'I'm helping Roman find a woman,' Tabitha's innocence was undone by a suggestion of mischievousness.

Bex stared at me with a forkful of gnocchi on the way to her mouth. The girls knew that Jules and I had agreed to live apart for a bit. Veterans of one divorce, they probably guessed what this would lead to. I think that they would preferred we stayed a family but, like so many modern children, they knew they could survive break-ups.

'That's lovely darling.' Jules turned from Tabitha to me, 'I hope it's not the woman you met yesterday.'

'No, I met this one a few days ago. The one who left me a book.'

'She's missing,' said Tabitha. 'Roman's helping a police woman to try to find her. I'm helping, we've got a stack of clues.'

'What a lot of women you have in your life, Roman,' said Jules later as we filled the dish-washer. Tabitha had roped Bex into the clue hunt and were at the desk in the lounge studying images.

'Except one's a missing author, one's a police inspector, and...' I paused as the absurdity hit me, 'the threatening one's a nun. That must be a pretty unique set.'

'A nun nun?'

'Apparently. She works at a convent in the Essex-Cambs borders. Any idea where or what that might be.'

'Hardly my field,' said Jules, 'although there isn't a long border between Essex and Cambs, so the evil nun should be avoidable. Roman, if you're mixed up in threats, missing people and street shootings, these are the kind of women you can expect to attract – well maybe not nuns. I don't think you should involve the girls in your mystery women though.'

'I hadn't meant to. Tabs just sat down and inserted herself in the process.'

'If you reach a point in anything where you are forced to weaponise stairwell doors, it's time to re-evaluate,' Jules smiled, probably at the image now lodged in her head. 'I thought you were extracting yourself from this affair, leaving it to the police.'