4th March
Helen had gone to her monthly meeting of the Women’s Group by the time I returned.
I made myself a sandwich and went into the garage to continue working on Sam’s books. It was a tedious activity, but my curiosity about ‘the book’ gave me sufficient motivation to carry on.
I had devised a cataloguing system whereby I digitally photographed the cover or title page of each book. I then entered the title, author and any other identifying features onto a spreadsheet which also contained a link to the image.
I had begun to identify the unknown scripts on the Internet and to group books written in the same script. I reasoned that, even if I did not know what I was looking at, my catalogue might be of use to a relevant expert. This is why it was all taking so much time.
It was just after nine in the evening when the door between the kitchen and the garage opened, and Helen joined me.
‘How’s it going?’ she asked.
‘I’ve got the winning lottery numbers for next Saturday,’ I replied, ‘but the world is going to end on Tuesday afternoon, so we’ll need to spend it fast.’
She laughed. ‘No luck then.’
‘No, but the systematic cataloguing is moving on, and that’s realistically the best way to find a needle in a haystack – if there’s one to be found.’
‘That reminds me,’ said Helen. ‘Reverend Leadbetter called round this afternoon. He said he’d loaned Sam a Victorian copy of a book by St. Anselm, and he was anxious to get it back. He said he’d like to look through Sam’s books and papers to find it.’
‘That’s OK,’ I said. ‘He can help me clean and catalogue this lot.’ I gestured at the remaining piles of documents.
‘There’s one other thing about our vicar, Love,’ Helen said. ‘Mandy Watkins, the police chief inspector who lives in the village, was the speaker at the Women’s Group this evening. She wanted to have a private word with me afterwards, and she asked me to pass on some information to you as you’re responsible for Sam’s possessions.’
‘What did she say?’ I asked.
‘It seems that when Mandy was coming home from work in the small hours of one morning on the week after the meteorite, she caught Reverend Leadbetter in the ruins of Sam’s house.’
‘Perhaps he was looking for that book in case it got more damaged.’
‘That’s what he told her, but she thought it was odd that he would do that at night in an unsafe structure, not make any attempt to get permission and try to run away when she turned up.’
‘Did she arrest him?’
‘As he was the local vicar, she thought an arrest would cause him unnecessary embarrassment when, legally, he’d only committed a minor trespass. She explained the dangers of being on the site, told him to get permission for a safe search and left it at that.’
‘How very curious,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what to make of that.’
As I pondered this, I looked at Helen. She had been introducing the speaker at the Women’s Group and had dressed and made herself up beautifully for such an occasion.
My interest became diverted from the mysteries surrounding Sam.
I stood and picked a book at random from the catalogued collection of Greek texts. ‘Before I can use this book to foretell the future,’ I solemnly stated, ‘the prescribed rituals must be enacted.’
Helen looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face. It took a few moments before she followed my meaning. Her face took on a suitably respectful expression, and she cast her eyes downwards. ‘What do you wish me to do, Master?’ she said.
‘Follow me into the lounge, Disciple,’ I commanded as I began to walk from the garage into the house.
Once in the lounge, I silently pointed to a location in front of the sofa, indicating that I wished her to stand there.
She obeyed.
I sat on the sofa and looked at her. Briefly, our eyes met. We both immediately calculated that if we continued to look at each other for a further fraction of a second, we would dissolve into laughter – and that would rather spoil the scenario. Helen quickly resolved the problem by submissively looking downwards.
‘Before I can use this book to foretell the future,’ I solemnly re-stated, ‘the prescribed rites and rituals must be enacted. Face me,’ I ordered.
Helen turned slightly so that she was facing me.
‘Good girl,’ I said. ‘Now, take off all your clothes.’