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First published: 29th October 2020
Status: COMPLETE & PUBLISHED.
Revisions: 2 [last revised June 2020]
Version: Final.
Published Episode No. 32
Previous episode: "Alexandra and the Balkan bad boys."
Next episode: “Alexandra survives after the last sunset...and some!”
Angel-in-charge: Margret
Team Assigned: Team 74
Mission: 9 -300167 - 10 - 1377
OTHER INFORMATION:
Currently none apparent.
SMOKING - ALCOHOL USE - VIOLENCE [INCLUDING SEXUAL VIOLENCE & BDSM] - STRONG LANGUAGE - GRAPHIC HARD SEX REFERENCES INCLUDING PROSTITUTION AND DIVERSE SEXUAL PRACTISES - DRUG REFERENCES - ANTI-RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS AND OPINIONS - HUMAN TRAFFICKING - COMMENTS AND BEHAVIOUR THAT MAY OFFEND SOME PEOPLE BUT WERE CONSIDERED 'NORMAL' IN THE TIME PERIOD. |
IF YOU ARE BELIEVE YOU MAY BE OFFENDED BY ANYTHING CONTAINED IN THIS WRITTEN WORK, THEN DON'T READ IT AND CLOSE THE PAGE! THANK YOU. |
This episode has an average reading time of approximately 60 minutes.
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1. THE FORGOTTON WOMAN AND HER DAMN BOOKS.
“What a damn bloody time to uncover something like this. We have the bloody Queen's visit to cope with [as part of her silver Jubilee celebrations] and now the press is all over us because of that damn woman and her damn books!" Lord David Price was not a happy man; he was responsible for overseeing the cathedral's part in the forthcoming National celebrations of her majesty's Queen Elizabeth II's twenty-five years on the throne. Now he had this to deal with. His assistant and Press Officer walked slowly by his side and retrained from smiling. Miss Jenifer Sallies had little time for her 'Boss' and the way he treated women; even one's that had been dead for almost six hundred years. No, that wasn't quite right; she had clearly been murdered almost six hindered years ago.
The pathologist's private & confidential report was quite specific; the woman had starved to death; bricked up behind that wall, left to die horribly in a small room surrounded by her writings and books that condemned her to death some 600 hundred years ago. But why had they done such a dreadful deed in such a holy place; a house of Jesus? To young Jenifer that was the real question to answer. She tried to placate her boss, before he has a nervous breakdown, and she gets lumbered with even more work and problems.
"The archbishop has arranged for a team of experts to look at her [the bricked-up woman] and try and find out what happened and hopefully; why." She spoke quietly to Lord David, who just grunted; "I thought we had enough of them crawling over the bloody woman already."
Jenifer sighed, but managed to smile; "Apparently, they are real experts in medieval times and have a doctor on the team, with an American expert on 'cold case' crime scenes - from New York - and the Professor is an acknowledged expert in medieval crime and justice. He'll be accompanied by his young assistant."
Lord David stopped and folded his arms, staring down the corridor towards the archbishop’s small office in the Cathedral that had been set up for the Queen's Visit. "Well, if it takes some of the bloody heat off me; then I'm fine with that. He [the archbishop] does run the place - well in name - and what he says, goes." He said and almost smiled; but didn't. The pair walked on, and Jenifer knocked on the door and did smile to herself; this could be really interesting. They entered when told to do so.
Jenifer sat in her car and stared at the cleaning team, sprucing up the ancient stonework of the grand doorway. She fumbled in her big bag and pulled out the brown file. She really didn't like viewing the pictures - especially of the long dead woman - but made herself. It was apparent that the 'experts’, who had been called initially to the scene, weren't too concerned about the woman's horrific death. They were in a frenzy over her manuscripts and papers; especially the two 'forbidden' books [forbidden by the medieval Catholic Church; the cathedral had been a Catholic place of worship then]. Everyone had long believed that no copies existed anymore; burnt in bonfires by the Holy Inquisition at the time.
In those turbulent times, any book that went against the Bible's explanation of existence was considered heresy and like human heretics; was burnt. She stared at the pictures and flicked through the various reports from the 'experts'. The woman had - apparently - worked out that the planets revolved around the sun; including the Earth. That was heresy back then; the Church taught that the Earth was the centre of the universe, and everything revolved around it and God's supreme creation; man. "Supreme creation my bum." She muttered to herself. That probably went up the Church's nose - at the time - especially that such incredible discoveries had been made by a woman, using mathematics', rational thinking, and logic. Little wonder the ignorant bastards murdered her.
She slowly closed the file and placed it back in her bag. The Church had issued no official statement about what her papers had contained and certainly didn't mention the forbidden books. Jenifer sighed and stared back at the workman, now packing up for the day. The major papers had all concentrated on the sensational finding of the woman's body in the ancient cathedral; few mentioned her books or why she was murdered. The Church still had very powerful friends; even in 1977.
Jenifer had one thing to smile about; she had a quiet drink with John Kennedy last night - he was a reporter for a local paper - about the mysterious woman and the lack of coverage about why she was apparently murdered. He loved the thought of a story about the Church - any story - and agreed to start digging around; about why the Church Authorities were so reticent about the woman. He was a good, dedicated reporter and knew immediately that there was another story behind the bizarre finding. He promised to keep her up to date with his findings and - of course - he would keep her name out of it. He always protected his 'sources'.
She slapped on her seatbelt and started her little Ford Escort car and drove from the private staff car park and headed for home; hoping that the new team of experts had more balls than the others who had looked at the scene. She was really interested in meeting the team's doctor; apparently a hardnosed, sassy, no nonsense woman. She actually grinned; that will get right up Lord Price's nose. She turned into her normally quiet street and found it packed with police and fire engines. She pulled over and jumped from her car.
A young constable was stopping traffic and turning vehicles back, his little 'Panda' car parked across the roadway. She walked straight up and asked what was going on. He sighed and pushed his cap back; "Big fire at a house down there. Went up like a bonfire; it could be arson, so this is now a crime scene Miss. You'll have to move on."
Jenifer stared down the road and could see a huge plume of dark smoke. "Which house was it?" She asked, adding; "I live down there at number 23." The constable stared at her and reached for his radio. "Delta 71 to Incident Control, come in please. Urgent message, over." A voice replied to go ahead. He said; "Incident Control from delta 71. I have the owner of the property with me now. She says she's lives at number 23. Over."
Jenifer just couldn't believe it; her bloody house was ablaze!
He held the radio close to his ear and didn't
smile; "I'm sorry Miss, but can you stay with me. Some CID officers are on
their way to speak to you." Jenifer, still in a state of shock just
nodded. The young constable lowered his radio and asked if anyone lived with
her. She shook her head and said that she lived alone. The constable sighed and
stared back down the road. He turned back to her and didn't smile; "So, whose
body was found in the upstairs bedroom?"
Jenifer staggered back; someone had been found dead in her bloody bedroom! Two men approached her and flashed Warrant Cards; they identified themselves as Detective Inspector Gary Meadows and Detective Sergeant William Turner. The Inspector asked Jenifer to confirm her name and address, which she did.
The Inspector didn't smile and took hold of her arm; "Miss Jenifer Sallies, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder and arson. You don't have to say anything, but whatever you say will be taken down in writing and may be used in evidence. Do you understand that, and do you have anything to say?"
Jenifer just stared at him and whispered; "Fucking murder and arson. You must be fucking Joking!" The two detectives weren't joking and took an arm each and walked her to their large blue Rover car. With Jenifer secured in the back with the Inspector, the sergeant pulled away heading for the police station.
They stopped at the next turning, which had a police car parked up with two uniform officers sitting in it. The young woman constable walked over and swapped places with the Inspector, who jumped in the front passenger seat. The sergeant set off again. The Inspector picked up the handset of the 'Westminster' radio and called the station; "We're coming in with the suspect now." Was all he said. Jenifer couldn't believe her ears; she was the bloody suspect in an arson and murder inquiry!
2. THE SUSPECT FOR THE NEW MURDER.
Jenifer sat in front of the big, uniformed sergeant and was shaking a little. She had actually never been in a police station; never mind the Charge Room. The sergeant laid out a large sheet and picked up his pen. He started to fill out the large form without comment. The Inspector told her to tell the sergeant her full name, date of birth, place of birth and current address. She whispered and was told to speak up which she did. She was taken to a cell by the young policewoman and searched. The woman officer called out to her Inspector; "House and car keys Guv. She has a car somewhere." She held up the keys and the Inspector - standing in the doorway - asked Jenifer where her vehicle was. Jenifer told him quietly. He took the keys and walked away.
The woman officer packed all she had taken from Jenifer into a large plastic bag and walked to the door. She slowly closed the cell door and locked it. Leaving a little 'wicket gate' open. Her face appeared at it; "I'll fetch you a cup of tea. How do you take it?" Jenifer stared about the dismal little room; bare apart from a wooden bed and toilet. She told the officer how she took her tea and slowly eased herself down on the hard bed. The unsmiling face disappeared. Jenifer sat - head in hands - and cried.
Jericho and Team 74 waited patiently at the
small reception area of the Cathedral and watched the middle-aged lady
nervously make several phone calls. Finally, she replaced the receiver and
almost smiled; "There appears to be a real problem locating Miss Sallies,
but Lord Price, her immediate Boss is on his way down." She eased herself
down into her seat and almost smiled again. The team gathered together some
distance away and waited. Owen discretely checked his mirror behind Wilson's
broad back. The other's heard him curse and he placed the mirror back into his
coat pocket. He whispered to the others; "It appears that Miss Jenifer
Sallies murdered her boyfriend and burnt the body in her own house. Apparently,
she even tortured the poor bastard before setting him alight. I've asked the
Collector who attended to call us, see what he [the dead man] said about his
homicidal girlfriend."
Jericho just nodded; "That's bit of a bloody co-incidence, isn't it? They find the woman bricked up here and suddenly one of the main witnesses to it all gets arrested for murder and arson. You know I don't believe too much in co-incidences. Something is not right here."
Wilson nodded; "I smell a big rat. The papers found around that woman will cause a huge outcry - even 600 years later - and yet, nothing has appeared in any of the papers, or TV stations. They just all cover the current Queen's Silver Jubilee celebrations. Now that is fucking strange."
"The Church in these times still has powerful connections with the 'Dark Side' and what the woman discovered all those years ago couldn't have been revealed then or now. As Wilson said, I smell a big rat. A dark big rat." Jericho spoke softly to the others, and they waited; for some time they waited. Finally, Lord Price arrived, looking grim. He gave Jericho and team no help whatsoever - in fact - he gave them the 'bum's rush' and said their assistance in the matter was no longer required. He didn't even apologise or say 'goodbye', he simply walked away.
They headed back to the van and sat in the car park, watching the preparations for the Queen's visit. They agreed on one thing; they all smelt a 'cover-up.
Owens’s mirror buzzed and he answered it quickly; it was Helena, the Collector who had collected the murdered man's soul.
Owen listened with some interest and thanked
her. He wiped his face and sat back in his seat, clutching his mirror. He
sighed; "We were right. The dead man was a journalist who had been
contacted by Miss Jenifer Sallies over the lack of coverage about the dead woman.
He had made some enquires with his 'contacts' and suddenly, he's bundled off
the street by three big men. They beat and tortured him in a
derelict garage; even pulling out his toe and fingernails. They 'water
boarded' the poor bastard until he told them who had passed the story onto him.
They then injected him with something and that was all he remembered until his
soul was collected from the blazing house by Helena. He did say that the three
men clearly knew what they were doing. Professional hit men."
Jericho nodded; "They're covering everything up again. They obviously mean business. They killed one poor bastard and have 'fitted up' his contact with his murder and as a bonus - for them - burnt her house down to destroy anything she may have hidden there. They are definitely professionals. Probably work for the Government of this time. There are plenty of 'Dark Side' devotee's in both the church and Government here and now."
Wilson turned to Owen; "What happened to Miss Sallies?" Owen checked Human Records on his mirror; he didn't smile. "Poor bloody cow was found guilty of murder and arson at the Old Bailey in January 1978. She served 22 years in prison and was released - on license - in 2000. She seems to have disappeared, but her soul was collected and processed in 2009." He lowered his mirror and shook his head; "Fucking bastards."
There was silence in the van and finally Alex said quietly; "Is that it? Are we going to do fuck all about this?" Jericho ran a hand over his face and stared out the windscreen at the magnificent old building. "You know we're not authorized to interfere with Human miscarriages of justice. She wouldn't be the first person to rot in prison for something she never did." Alex flopped back in her seat; "So that's fucking it. We do sod all!"
Jericho patted her arm; "I said we're not authorized. I didn't say we couldn't interfere a little bit with certain parts of this shitty story." He smiled. The team chuckled and Wilson started the van and they pulled away. He noticed immediately that they were being followed. Owen peered in the drivers wing mirror and grunted; "Three men in a black Rover car and I bet we know who those bastards are."
"They are going to have some fun, checking the plates on our van." Jericho chuckled. Owen looked puzzled; "I always wanted to know who Supplies register the vans to in different time periods?" Jericho turned and smiled; "They have just found out that his Holiness Pope Paul VI owns this particular van." Now that did make everyone laugh. Jericho sighed; "People, we now work for the 'Prayer of Liberty' Department of the Holy Roman Church, and I know just the man, who we can call on for semi-official assistance; Father Paradise Adams."
They booked into a very nice hotel; constantly watched by the men in the black Rover car. The first thing they did was to book dinner and find out if the bar served decent brandy; it did. The team sat by a window table and enjoyed their drinks. The waiter would call them when their table was ready. Owen was really interested in the night's menu - no surprise there - and was impressed. "I'm having the roast lamb, new potatoes and fresh mixed vegetables. Then the chocolate pudding and cream to follow." He looked up from his menu and smiled; "Those three murdering bastards have just sat at the table by the door."
Wilson couldn't help but laugh quietly; he had just noticed that Jericho had suddenly acquired a 'dog' collar. He was now Father Jericho Tibb's of the Vatican's 'Prayer of Liberty' Department.
"Let's see how intelligent and subtle our
murdering friends are." Jericho said quietly and called the waiter over;
he whispered in his ear and the young man disappeared behind the bar.
Alex sipped her most welcome brandy and smiled at Jericho; "What are you up to?" She watched as the young waiter approached the men's table with a tray. He carefully placed three glasses upon the table and lit them with a match. "Fucking Sambuca's! Now that is one fucking subtle message Jericho!" The three men downed their drinks and raised their glasses at Jericho. They slammed them down and walked out.
"We stay together tonight and take turns on watch. I don't think they're very happy that we damn well know who they are and what they did." Jericho muttered and everyone agreed. Alex immediately said; "I'm the only lady here. I should have the bed - if you really are gentlemen - so there!" Owen groaned and smiled; "What bloody lady?" The team laughed and then was called for dinner. The meal was excellent and after a few more drinks retired to their rooms.
3. ROOM SERVICE.
Alex went to the ice-machine in the corridor outside her room and inserted a five pence coin and filled her glass with ice-cubes. She was only wearing her dressing gown as she normally slept in the ‘buff’ and had decided to have a ‘night-cap’ of vodka, calmed down with some ice. She walked back to her room and tried the door: it had locked behind her. She fumbled in her dressing gown pockets and realised that the room keys were on the bedside cabinet. She knocked at Owen’s door and received no answer. That’s when the night porter emerged from the storeroom at the end of the corridor, carrying a bucket and mop and she waved him over, explaining she was locked out.
“No problem, madam, I’ll use my master keys and have you back in bed in no time.” He then ran a hand over his face, adding, “I do apologise madam, that sounded quite naughty, didn’t it?” They both laughed and Alex liked this middle-aged, well-groomed man. He was still very handsome and must have been quite a looker in his day. She gestured to the mop and bucket as they walked down the corridor, “Doing some cleaning to pass the night shift?” He shook his head, “No, they’re for the morning cleaners. Somehow one of the ladies managed to lose hers.” They reached the room and pulled a large bunch of keys from his belt and quickly opened the door, stepping back and gesturing Alex in, “There we go madam, have a good night. Is there any other service you need, just ring zero on your phone and I’ll be along.”
Alex smiled, then gestured him in, “Oh, let me give you a tip for this. I insist. You were very helpful to a lady in distress.” She now stepped back, and the Night Porter stepped in. She walked to her handbag, carefully loosening the cord on her dressing gown and fetched a fifty pence from her bag. She walked back holding it out as her dressing gown opened, the cord falling away, exposing her nude body to the Night Porter who couldn’t help but smile. “Oops, sorry about that.” Alex said, making no attempt to close the dressing gown and pushed the coin into his hand. He smiled again and shook his head; “No problem, madam, accidents do happen. Can I be of further service?” Now it was Alex’s turn to smile. “Yes, there is something you can assist me with.” She pulled the dressing gown off and dropped it to the floor. Now, the Night Porter was formally a soldier and had served Queen and country. He was no fool and realised that Alex wanted him to fuck her! He pushed the coin into his pocket and quietly closed the door, dropping the mop and bucket on the floor. “I think I understand what madam wants.” He said quietly, pulling off his jacket.
The pair of naked lovers introduced their bodies to each other with some surprising passion, considering they had just met. Alex was laying at his side, his adequate cock in her hungry mouth, whilst he ran a hand between her legs and found that the lady was already wet enough for the fucking to start immediately. But he was enjoying the superb, skilled blowjob he was receiving. The last time a woman had sucked his cock this good, he had paid a small fortune for her services and now he was getting it free and had an extra fifty pence in his pocket: he was happy about that!
What really made him groan was when she pulled back his foreskin and ran her moist tongue about it, that caused him to shudder a little with sheer pleasure. “I think your ready to do me a big service.” She whispered and smiled. That’s when he discovered that he loved her smile and especially those dark eyes. He nodded and Alex lay with her back to the pillows and slowly opened her legs. To her surprise [she thought he would mount her] his head went between her legs, and he set to work. Alex gripped the blankets and tossed her hair about: the night porter was an expert fanny feaster! His tongue and fingers were setting her vagina alight with some skill and she moaned in appreciation of his efforts. Alex knew that an orgasm was already building and that surprised her too. After just about ten minutes of his expert working of her willing [and apparently happy] vagina, she had a little orgasm and whispered; “I want you now! And I mean now!” He grinned and pushed on top of her, his cock disappearing into her cunt with some ease. The fucking proper now started and Alex discovered it was just as good as his foreplay.
He pounded with her with hidden strength, thrusting hard and fast, with his hands placed either side of her. She grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs back, so he could go as deep as he wanted, and she desired. They changed position, she was now sitting on his lap with their tongues eagerly exploring each other’s mouths and their hands caressing bodies locked in a passionate union. Alex had another orgasm quickly, moaning loudly with sheer pleasure at his gentle, but firm caresses. He pushed her back on the pillows and fucked her hard again. She now gripped his shoulders and groaned, throwing her head about as he pounded her relentlessly and to her surprise [the third one tonight!] she felt the big one coming and she gasped, breathing heavily, as it built quickly and rolled down her body, exploding with sexual intensity that made her entire body quiver. Her legs shook and kicked in the air, her mouth opened to scream with satisfaction, but nothing came out, she was breathing too deeply. It was simply one of the best orgasm’s she ever had [and boy, that’s saying something!]
She lay under him, groaning and panting, then grabbed his head, guiding his mouth back to hers. They kissed with unbridled passion now and finally he couldn’t hold back anymore and groaned loudly, filling Alex with his cum. That triggered another orgasm and Alex held him tight and now sobbed with sheer ecstasy. The pair lay together in silence, just breathing heavily from their exertions and Alex managed to tap his arm and whisper in a hoarse voice, “I think this hotel gives bloody good service!” And the pair now laughed together and kissed some more. She ran a hand over his happy face, and he kissed it. “I’m glad I could be of service madam.” He replied quietly.
Alex glanced at the small bedside clock and had to look twice; it was two thirty in the morning and they had fucked solid for almost an hour before he finally finished. She stroked her lover’s face and the pair whispered together, laying in each other’s arms. He sat up, “I best get back to the desk. The night kitchen clears are due to finish about now and I have to sign them out and check their work.” He slid from the bed and dressed quickly. He leaned over Alex and kissed her again. “Goodnight, madam and sleep well.” She nodded and watched him leave, collecting the mop and bucket.
Alex switched off the bedside lamp and curled up, embracing her pillows, then realised she didn’t even know his name! She sighed thinking it really didn’t matter, but it would have been nice to have known it! She slept soundly until her mirror buzzed and it was Owen, saying that the team would have a breakfast meeting in the restaurant in thirty minutes. She slipped from the bed and headed for the small bathroom and simply couldn’t get the Night Porter from her thoughts and now that did surprise her. [Number four I believe!] She showered and dressed and just made the breakfast in time. But thoughts about her night visitor wouldn’t dispel and that troubled her a little. That’s when the waiter discretely leaned over and whispered in her ear and passed her a note. She slipped it into her handbag and smiled.
4. THE CORPSE.
Dr. Frank Gardener peered through the small window of the morgue and stared at the little group sitting in the waiting room. The pathologist turned to his young assistant and sighed; "The bloody Pope still carries weight around here despite old King Henry." The assistant just smiled. Frank walked back to the tray and nodded to the door; "Well, show them in." Peter walked to the door and pushed it open; he stuck both hands in his white coat and said - without smiling - "This way please; the pathologist is ready for you." Everyone rose and walked in, assembling around the tray. Frank jerked the clean white cloth off to reveal a neat set of old bones.
"Exactly how old are these remains?" Father Adam's asked, pushing a hand through his thick grey hair; the other clutched his notebook and pencil. Frank gestured to them; "Give or take ten or fifteen years, the remains are about six hundred years old; approximately and from the state of the bones, I would say that she probably starved to death."
Owen peered closer and pointed out that the left leg appeared a little smaller than the right. Frank nodded - a little impressed - and said, "She appears to have suffered Polio as a child and would have had a pronounced limp as an adult. It was a common aliment six hundred years ago."
Jericho rubbed his chin; "How old was she when she died?" Frank folded his arms and shrugged his shoulders; "Maybe mid-twenties. But we do know that at some point, she had given birth." Alex looked sadly at the remains; "So she was someone's mother." Frank nodded; "Yes, but I found something that does made her special and probably a little unique." He smiled with a little satisfaction. Father Adam's placed his thin glasses on and took a close look. He nodded, pointing to the larger leg. "You can see where the damn limb healed."
Frank was impressed again; "That's right father; at some point she broke her leg and it healed. Quite incredible for the time she lived in."
Father Adam's turned to the others; "Six hundred years ago, if you broke your leg, it was normally, well always, amputated."
Frank shrugged his shoulders; "Medical care wasn't much in those days. If you splintered a bone, it had to come off. Otherwise, you surely died of Sepsis - blood poisoning - they had no antibiotics." He actually chuckled; "They had sod all really; just plants and some magic." He pointed to the skull; "The teeth are in good condition; just two missing. No sugar in the diet." He asked if there were any more questions and Owen held up a hand; "I take it she was white European Sir?" Frank did smile; "You’re on the ball young man. I am impressed. She was actually from the Middle East in origin. A chemical analysis of her teeth revealed she had a Middle Eastern diet - since childhood - and this is only speculation, but I would say Egypt or possibly Syria. Around there somewhere."
Alex pushed her mirror back into her coat pocket and smiled at the young assistant who gave her a strange look; he may have seen her mirror. Frank threw the sheet over the remains and that was the end of the session, and everyone gathered outside; talking quietly. Jericho said softly to Alex; "Who was she?" Alex looked about; they were the only people in the waiting room.
"According to Human Records those bones belonged to Ester Clemencies; a woman who was a mix of Jewish and Arab blood. She was born in Jerusalem in 1352 and there is no time of death; she is a Missing Soul. Now that's incredible because she died in her own time period and should have been collected."
"Unless she had sold her soul to the 'Dark Side' and they collected her." Wilson grunted, adding; "There are only two explanations for a missing soul; the 'Dark Side' owned it, or you died out of your natural time period." Jericho nodded at that; "So, she died within her scheduled time, which means she was a follower of the 'Dark Prince', That makes this very interesting, especially with the rumours about her manuscripts and books. I smell something wrong here."
Father Adams finished scribbling in his notebook and replaced the thick elastic band that held it together. He removed his glasses and placed them back in his jacket. "I have to agree with Jericho. Something is wrong here. According to the pathologist she died in her mid-twenties, which means being born in 1352, she could have died around 1377 or thereabouts. Now that's some co-incidence; she died on the year that would have been an anniversary of the cathedral's consecration. Then exactly six hundred years later her remains are supposedly found in the Cathedral." He sighed; "Found with her books that call into question the Church's behaviour in those times to science and women. This could be a wonderful little incident for the followers of the Dark Prince to exploit."
Everyone agreed with that assessment; there were too many 'convenient' co-incidences to really be co-incidences. "It was planned to ask serious questions about the Church; back then and possibly now." Jericho muttered and the team headed for their van in the car park. Sure enough; the black Rover was there. Cheekily, Owen and Alex gave the men sitting in it, a cheery wave. Father Adam's admitted that he had been contacted by the Cardinal as soon as his plane landed at London Airport [now Heathrow Airport] demanding updates and assessments of the 'incident'.
"Whatever the reason for this; it has already stirred up a hornet's nest, cost a journalist his life and thrown an innocent woman in prison, so it is serious." Jericho reminded everyone; especially Owen and Alex, who ruefully smiled.
Jericho sat in the front seat and stared at the big black car and turned to Owen; "There must be more to this woman; find out about her family. The pathologist said she had given birth, so find out if there are any descendants and how many are on the Dark Side." Owen nodded and pulled out his mirror; "This may take some time." He said, tapping away. Wilson chuckled; "We're Temporal Detectives, we have all the time in existence!" Now that did make everyone laugh.
Father Adam's turned to Jericho; "What languages were her books in?" Jericho shrugged his shoulders; he didn't know. Owen looked up from his mirror and mumbled something. Father Adam's smiled and asked him to repeat what he said. Owen sighed, lowering his mirror; "They were all written in Latin except one; which was written in Hieratic script."
Father Adam's just stared at him, then wiped his face with his hankie; "Are you sure Owen that it was Hieratic Script?" Owen nodded. Father Adam's sat back in his seat and wiped his face again. "That doesn't sound right. Hieratic Script was a simplified version of Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. It was dead and forgotten by the First century AD. It was originally used to write letters keep records and accounts. Then suddenly in the 1300's, a woman starts writing a manuscript in it - about scientific and technical subjects apparently - That doesn't make sense. No sense or logic at all."
Jericho rubbed his chin; "It's not the right language a well-educated woman of the Middle Ages would use?" Father Adam's nodded; "Not by a long way. In the thirteen hundreds, she would have written in her native language, old English or Latin. That's it. Writing a single book in Hieratic Script would seem so strange and probably impossible at the time."
Alex leaned forward; "So those books could have been written hundreds of years before the woman was even born?" Father Adam's nodded and whispered; "I wonder if she even knew what those so-called books of hers; actually said. Especially the one in the old Egyptian script." Jericho gestured for Wilson to start the van and head back to the hotel. "I think we may have to pay a visit to Ms Ester Clemencies and take a look at her library."
Owen coughed and lowered his mirror; "According to Human Records she had a son called Adam. His descendants are around today; scattered around Great Britain, America, Australia, Canada, and New Zealand. No one is particularly important to the timeline. But in this time & place, there is just one descendant of any note. A Professor Allan Fordham, he claimed to have discovered the vaccine that would cure both types of Diabetes. He was found hanging in his garage; no suicide note. The interesting thing is that his family claimed he wasn't suicidal but overjoyed at his discovery. But the Coroner at his inquest ruled - death by suicide - and said that all his missing research papers and reports had been destroyed by Fordham, to cover a massive fraud that he was preparing. Well, that's the official story; anyway."
"Wait a minute, his family says he wasn't suicidal, and all his research just disappeared. That sounds a bit strange to me." Wilson shouted back as he turned into the hotel car park.
Alex grunted with some contempt; "Come on people, switch your brains on. Some brilliant scientist says he found a cure for diabetes and is found hanging; all his research gone. He was bloody murdered by the big Pharmacy companies. They make billions every year keeping people alive; but not curing them. It doesn't make economic sense to lose that sort of income by offering a cure. For Christ sake, it's like having the bloody poacher's looking after the rivers and everyone wonders where the bloody fish went!" No one could argue with her.
Owen rubbed his face; he liked the logic and rationale of Alex’s deductions and would take a further look at the case when he had time.
5. PILGRIMS TO CANTERBURY; ENGLAND 1377.
The Supplies truck was waiting in the car park for the team. Old Joe smiled at everyone and gestured towards the big black Rover car; "Friends of your Inspector?" He asked a bemused Jericho, who enquired about what he had brought. They followed him into the truck. Like the lighthouse, it was enormous inside with fitting rooms, props and equipment; including Owens’s favourite donkey; 'Freddie.' Jericho smiled at Owen - who was fussing over the donkey - and told Anna [the teams regular Costume Designer] to kit Owen out as Alex's 'Lady Maid'. "No lady of quality would travel without one in the period we're heading for. We can't call on young Ruth; she's on her Collectors Course." He explained to Wilson, who just grunted; "Well, on your head be it. If he goes strange, it’s partially your fault." But did smile.
When everyone was dressed, Jericho operated his mirror and they disappeared to England in 1377, some miles from Canterbury cathedral. They gathered in the dark woods - despite the morning being sunny and clear - and Jericho briefed the team. "I'm Lord Tibb's, [no surprises there....] a powerful merchant who is on a pilgrimage to Canterbury, accompanied by his widowed sister and her maid. Wilson is Omar; a Christian Moor from Spain, also on a pilgrimage. Father Adam's is, well, he's Father Adam's! Our spiritual adviser and guide."
Everyone really admired the old man, jumping back in time with the team. As a living human, Jericho had to get special permission from Angel Margret. She didn't hesitate; the priest's qualities were well known to her; she admired the man greatly - as did most people - and told Jericho to look after him.
She was quite specific; "If anything happens to him and his soul is about to be lost to the Darkness; you call for a Knight - immediately - you have my permission to do that." Now that did really impress Jericho; few humans could boast having a Knight of God on standby! But it was very necessary; if the old priest died outside of his ordained time period, then his soul would be lost the darkness of real death. Only A Knight could recall his soul from there and restore him to life. Jericho had explained this very serious danger to Father Adam's and he still volunteered to go. "You and your team take that risk on nearly every mission you carry out for God. So, I think I can just this once." The old priest smiled and that was that.
Their wagon set off for the cathedral; Wilson was driving, with Lady Alexandra Cappanni and her maid bundled in the back. The damn thing had no springs, and they felt every rut and hole on the supposed road. Jericho rode a fine mare and Father Adam's walked with the donkey; feeding him carrots - purple carrots - and 'Freddie' really did like the old priest. They made their way through the forest and were surprised to find another wagon on the edge of the forest. Jericho halted his little convoy and rode over to the others; they were gathered around their wagon; talking quietly amongst themselves.
All their possessions were piled on the grass, chest's blankets, clothes and pottery. There was even a very old suit of armour; but beautifully maintained propped up against a small tree. It was clear that their wagon was stuck in a very deep hole. Jericho introduced himself and asked if he could be of assistance. The old Knight rose from the chest that he was sitting on and wiped his face; "Good Sir, we have emptied the damn thing, but still, it won't budge. I'm afraid we don't have the strength between us to lift it from the damn hole." He cussed the wagon and his old age, in equal measures. Jericho noted that the old Knight's party considered of the knight, a small boy called Simon accompanied by his 'nurse' Alice [a middle-aged woman with a very pock marked face] and the knights young Squire; a thin young man who smiled at everyone and was called Leofric.
Jericho waved his team over, and Wilson jumped down and joined him. Sir Robert De Morse really stared at Wilson and crossed himself. Alice grabbed the boy to her and backed away. The young squire just smiled. Jericho smiled broadly and introduced Omar; the Christian Moor from the Spanish Kingdom of Castile. With the young squire's help; Wilson and Jericho heaved the wagon out as Sir Robert encouraged the horse to pull. They all stood around smiling and were joined by Father Adam's, Lady Alex and her 'maid'. The young squire really did smile at the girls, especially the young maid.
Sir Robert thanked Jericho and insisted that dinner and drinks were on him, when they reached the next tavern. Jericho smiled and whispered to Wilson; "Bloody perfect. Now we are real pilgrims on a Canterbury pilgrimage with a real Knight to accompany us; it’s perfect cover." Wilson had to agree with that.
Young Leofric was really impressed with Jacqueline [Alex's maid] - and a little surprised - as she helped lift the heavy chest back into the wagon, with little effort. She smiled at him; "I'm stronger that I look. A farm girl originally, so I'm use to hard work." He just nodded - and smiled of course - he was in love; again. He seemed to fall in love with most pretty young girls he met in the good Knight's service. He wanted to write poetry for her but couldn't afford parchment or a quill. So he would have to recite it; which he promptly did until told to shut up by Sir Robert.
"Bloody young twerp loses his heart every bloody ten minutes." He sighed, but did smile a little, as he spoke to Jericho. Sir Robert confided to Jericho that Simon [his grandson] was all the family he had left after three wives and five children and three grandchildren. They were all dead except the boy. "That's why I'm on this bloody pilgrimage at my age. My last wife: Gwen had insisted - on her death bed - that I take the boy and together; pray for her soul at the great cathedral. She was most devoted to her devotions to God and Jesus." He just shrugged his shoulders and shouted at Leofric to be careful replacing his armour in the wagon. "I feel sorry for 'Thunder' my old war horse; pulling a bloody wagon at his age and after all the good service given to me on the battlefields of the King." He clearly loved his horse as much as Owen adored 'Freddie' the donkey.
Wilson just grunted at Jericho; "What is it with you English and their bloody animals?" Jericho didn't answer and the convoy headed up the 'Canterbury Road' - slowly - they would have to stop overnight at the Pilgrim Tavern called the 'King's Horn'.
Sir Robert told Jericho that the Innkeeper was an old soldier called Richard Catchpocket and they knew each other well from the Kings wars.
"He's a good man. He was a man to stand with when the fighting was fierce. Really good with an axe; could cleave open a Frenchman's chest with one swing, even if the bastard was wearing armour!" Jericho just smiled; somewhat disturbed by that thought but knew that Medieval battlefields were no playgrounds.
They reached the tavern at dusk; everyone was more than happy to see the tavern appear. Especially Alex and Jackie who moaned constantly about their backsides! Medieval journeys were hard on the arse - by horse or wagon - and the girls were really glad to jump from the wagon and stretch. Young Leofric stood staring at the pair and really needed to write more poetry; well, recite it anyway. He had delicious daydreams of jousting for their honour in the old Knights armour astride 'Thunder'. He grimaced at the thought of trying to mount 'Thunder'; the damn horse didn't like him and always tried to take a bite, even when he fed and groomed him.
Richard the Innkeeper greeted the old knight like a long-lost brother, and they embraced warmly. Sir Robert introduced his new friends and Richard welcomed them too, shouting for his serving girl - Mary - to bring ale. They stood and drank from leather jugs; the 'ladies' were given much smaller cups and both Alex and Jackie weren't too happy about that! But they kept those thoughts to themselves. They trooped into the tavern and were immediately served pies, cheese, bread and apples. The old knight and the Innkeeper sat talking about the old days. Mary - the young serving girl - showed Alex and her maid to their bedroom; it had one bed. Both giggled at that. "The bloody big chair for me then." muttered Jackie as Alex bounced upon the bed; well, she didn’t bounce – the bed was like a stone. “I think you’ve the best bed Jackie, should we toss for it?” Jackie just grinned and shook her head and patted the chair.
The evening meal was roast chickens, leeks, carrots, bread and plenty of beer followed by cheese and apples. Everyone ate with their knives and fingers. The entertainment was a scruffy looking 'minstrel' who sang ballads about battles and the gruesome killing of Frenchmen.
"Bloody charming. Does he actually know any happy songs?" Alex asked, sipping her rough beer. Jackie whispered; "There are romantic ballads about in these times, but clearly hadn't reached here yet." She quite enjoyed the beer; but it did remind her of the dark days in the monastery.
A big Welshman sang with a stunning voice and received much applause and some pennies for his efforts. He was on the ‘Pilgrimage’ too with his family and liked the look of Alex; he was a widower and asked Jericho several times about the status of his ‘sister’. At one point he slapped a bag of gold coins upon the table and whispered with Jericho. Alex was not impressed to learn later that he had offered serious money for her hand in marriage.
“I could have bought a decent house and a couple of horses with the coin offered in this time. He appears to own a large chunk of what will become Cardiff. “Jericho told her with a small smile. The big man made sure that Alex knew he had donated his ‘earnings’ [and a small amount from himself] to the local priest for the orphans of the city. She still wasn’t impressed and – politely – told him that she was a wealthy widow in her own right and would decide for herself who her next husband would be.
The fact that she would make her own decision shocked the Welshman deeply; he had never heard of such nonsense! He wandered off a very disappointed man.
The evening finished with a toast to the new king, and everyone headed for their rooms. Jericho and Wilson sat chatting with Richard. Jericho asked if anything important was happening at the Cathedral. The Innkeeper nodded and didn't look happy. He lowered his voice despite the place being empty apart from them three, sitting by the dying fire. He pulled them close and sipped his beer, there was a trial underway of a high born foreign woman; charged with heresy, blasphemy and denying the teachings of the church. Now that really did interest Jericho and Wilson and they encouraged Richard to explain further.
6. THE BOOKS OF ESTER CLEMENCIES.
"Apparently she told the local priest - an ill-educated man for a damn priest - that parts of the bible were wrong. Now that takes real balls; especially for a woman." Richard sipped his ale and wiped his rough face. "She told him that she could prove - with mathematics - that the earth and all the other planets revolved around the Sun and that the earth was just one of many such balls in the darkness; special only by having life on it."
He poured more ale from a huge clay jug and chuckled; "The dumb priest ran to the bishop and told him everything the woman had said. She was arrested by the bishops men the following afternoon. They took all her books and locked her up in a small room in the cathedral." He leaned back and sighed; "The Bishop ordained a trial was necessary and so, two other senior churchman were called. Some justice: having your case heard by three men who apparently believe every word of the bible is absolute truth."
Jericho nodded; "What has happened to her?" Richard poured more ale and folded his arms. "She could find no man willing to defend her or speak for her. So, she wanted to defend herself, but the three apes wouldn't allow a mere woman to address the court.”
The entire prosecution evidence of her guilt was the priest producing his bible and reading from it! She kept interrupting him and so the bishop ordered her gagged in court. They wouldn't let her produce any of her papers - they had confiscated them, calling them works of the Devil - and so the farce proceeded.
But they did produce some papers, found in her house that contained writing no one could decipher or understand. The bishop declared that the writing was in the devil's own hand and so unreadable to humans!
“Utter bollocks!" He finished his ale and stood; "The final day of trial is tomorrow; unless she can find some learned man to represent her; she'll burn at the stake."
Richard grunted; “They want to rush the trial through before the celebrations of the new King’s Coronation [Richard II]. They don’t want any evil lingering about the place. Now that has made me laugh. There is a real stench of evil about the place; the archbishop has stood well back from the trial.”
He left Jericho and Wilson finishing their ale and went to bed.
Wilson rubbed his chin; "Well, we know
that she was never burnt at the stake for her supposed crimes. So, I wonder
what happened at the trial." Jericho emptied his leather tankard and
wiped his mouth. "Maybe she found someone to take on the bishop and his
cronies?" He really did smile, and Wilson just sighed. He knew that look
on Jericho's face well. "I keep forgetting that you were a bloody lawyer."
He muttered and the pair retired to their room for the night.
The group of pilgrims arrived in the city the following afternoon. The major topic of conversation was the coming coronation and subsequent celebrations for the new King. Sir Robert managed to secure lodgings in a big tavern by the North Gate. The tavern owner: Percival Parish was also an ex-soldier. He was a big man with no hair, few teeth and one good eye. A jagged scar down his face bore testament to fighting on the old King’s battlefields. But there was something about the man that local women liked; it was rumoured that he had several ‘bastard’ children about the city.
Apparently killing Frenchmen wasn’t his only talent!
He welcomed the old knight like another long-lost brother. Percy took an immediate liking to Alex and especially to Jackie. His one eye ran over her, and he smiled broadly. He asked the knight about her on several occasions. His interest caused quite a giggle amongst the team – except Jackie – and the old inn keeper made sure he hung around Jackie. Whatever the young girl wanted she could have; he instructed his servants.
Wilson asked Alex if she was a ‘little miffed’ by ‘Jackie’ stealing her thunder; men usually fell about her feet. But Alex just grinned; “No, I’m fine. Jackie can certainly have old Percival. I’m more than happy about that.” And she meant it!
Jericho with Wilson in tow made discrete inquiries about Mistress Ester Clemencies and wasn’t too happy about what he discovered. Apparently, she had arrived in the city just last year; a widow woman of some means, she had purchased a fine house in the city and employed no less than nine savants. It was rumoured that it had taken a full day to unload her passions from several wagons. The number of books she owned drew real comment. Books were very, very expensive items in medieval times and she appeared to own a King’s ransom worth of them. That fact alone would make the church authorities notice. A woman with books wasn’t considered a good thing!
Jericho rubbed his chin as the team sat for their evening meal; “Maybe I’m a cynical old git; but I get the feeling that Mistress Ester wanted to come to the notice of the Church authorities. Now that’s not good since we know she’s a follower of the Dark One.” He spoke quietly to the others and Father Adam’s pushed his chicken stew about with a spoon and sighed.
“I still don’t understand why they bricked her up in the Cathedral as punishment; normally they would just burn her and her books at the stake, why such a different punishment?” He threw the question out to the group. Wilson broke the crusty bread with his big hands and nodded; “If they had burnt her, then we wouldn’t have a mission.” Jericho leaned back on his rough chair and smiled; “I think our big friend has hit the nail on the head there.”
Jackie dabbed her mouth with a hankie and leaned forward; she spoke quietly. “I think we should really take a look – a close look – at those books of hers. Find out what they really contain and perhaps who actually wrote them.” Jericho agreed with that. Alex tapped the table with a slender finger and smiled; “Our Jackie discovered from old Percival that the books are under lock and guard in a small antechamber; near where the trial is taking place. The guard is a bored young fellow who believes he’s bit of ladies’ man. I think Jackie and I could get a look at them.”
Wilson chuckled; “You two together could get the guard on Fort Knox to unlock.” Jericho leaned forward and smiled; “Let’s have a look at that those forbidden books; over to you ladies.”
The boys lay about the big bedroom and Wilson checked his mirror whilst Jericho and Father Adam’s played chess with a couple of flickering candles for light. There was a soft knock and Wilson jumped up, pushing his mirror into a pocket. It was a giggling Alex and Jackie. They crept in and Jackie held up her mirror and managed to stop herself smiling.
“It took exactly three minutes to persuade the boy to let us take a look. He actually thinks he’s bloody Casanova of the dark ages.” She said and tapped her mirror. Alex flopped on the bed and chuckled; “We’re supposed to meet him at a wonderfully named tavern; The ‘Horse’s Rump’ tomorrow night for drinks and other things!” Jericho just nodded and gestured to Jackie’s mirror; “What have we got?”
Jackie eased herself down on a rough chair and didn’t smile; “The covers are wonderful fakes, and the contents are bloody photocopies!” She consulted her mirror; “Copies of 16th and 17th century books about nearly everything; astronomy, witchcraft, medicine, even one about resurrecting the dead and curing plague with boiled dog testicles! But we know that Ester has not time travelled; so, who gave her the damn books?”
Father Adam’s tapped Jericho’s arm: “That doesn’t make sense. The books discovered with her, were the genuine articles, experts took a good look at them, and they would certainly have spotted bloody photocopies!” Jericho nodded; “I’m beginning to think that the little bricked up room didn’t originally contain a dead woman. Just books that someone desperately tried to save and preserve.”
Father Adam’s lowered himself on the bed next to Alex and wiped his face and neck; “I think we need to discover why those books – the original and genuine books – are so important and who hid them away.” Wilson looked up from his mirror and said simply; “Someone switched the fake ones for the real things just before the room was discovered. Since the only way into the room had been bricked up for hundreds of years, it was done at the time of the discovery or….” He smiled and added; “Or we have a time traveler who had the ability to jump into that room after the woman died and replace the fakes with the genuine articles. But again; why?”
Alex sat bolt upright; “Now that does make sense. All those original books are rare but known about. Copies have survived down the centuries, so which one was unique and the only copy – apparently – in existence. If there is such a book, then that’s the key to all this.”
Jackie agreed; “All we have to do is compare the
books that were found – all originals – and the fakes we’ve just seen.” She
started to tap her mirror with some determination.
“That young man…woman is going to be a fine temporal detective.” Father Adam’s spoke quietly to Jericho who smiled and replied; “I would have thought you would have disapproved of men dressing and acting as women.” Father Adam’s grinned and shrugged his shoulders; “We’re all God’s creatures Jericho.” Jericho patted the old priests arm and smiled broadly; now he knew why he really did like and admire this true man of God.
Jackie held up her mirror; “Singulari vitae interdum Anebos Thebarum sacerdos et propheta by the great Josephus, apparently written about 71AD. It’s genuine and we all know who bloody Anebos was.” [See episode; ‘Tomb ES-42’ ] Father Adam’s sighed; “And we all know who Titus Flavius Josephus was. He was actually writing just after the death of Jesus Christ. He’s works are accepted as some of the best about the first century AD.”
Jericho groaned; “Bloody Anebos again. I thought we had laid that bugger to rest. This spells trouble if that book is translated and exposed to the world of 1977.” Alex folded her arms; “So it’s genuine – the book I mean – about the Christ like prophet from ancient Thebes; a forerunner of Jesus by about a thousand years.”
Jackie lowered her mirror; “Probably got the damn story from some old Egyptian priests; there were still some around in the early first century. I wonder why the early Christians didn’t comment on it, coming from such a respected writer.”
Jericho sat on the bed and didn’t smile; “Josephus book was slung out, along with several others at the Conference in 325AD which formed the basis of the modern bible. The strange story of Anebos wasn’t wanted; they had Christ. The emperor was a [Constantine I] bloody pagan and yet he had direct input into the books of the Christian faith. Gospels by Judas and Mary Magdalene were also thrown out.”
“Owen, sorry Jackie, find out who are the three judges sitting on this case. There’s someone of real power operating in the background here and we need to find out who they are.” Jackie nodded and returned to her mirror. There was a loud and frantic knocking at the door and Wilson opened it slowly, hand on his sword hilt.
Young Leofric spilled through the door distressed and shouting. Jericho calmed him down and he blurted out his story. Jericho just groaned loudly; this was a turn up for the books. Apparently, the old knight Sir Robert had attended the ongoing trial and had suddenly interrupted proceedings by taking a bloody oath in front of everyone to defend the woman; with trial by combat!
Jericho just shook his head; “The daft old bugger will have to fight another knight – chosen by the church – to the death and if he wins, the church will have to free her. They consider the outcome of such a fight a decision by God.” He asked Leofric when all this will happen.
“Tomorrow at noon in the city’s main marketplace; my master will face Sir John Gavell, the churches most fanatical knight, who likes to hunt down witches in his spare time.” The young man accepted some beer from Alex and sat on a rough chair; he knew that his old master stood no chance against the dark knight.
Jericho folded his arms and said simply; “Oh fuck!”
7. TRIAL BY COMBAT? [PART 1]
The big tavern was packed that night. Jericho got nowhere trying to convince the old knight to drop his insane idea. Sir Robert steadfastly refused and drank his beer and sang songs from his youth. It was Alex talking quietly with Mistress Alice who uncovered the truth about the knight’s sudden desire to defend a woman he had never even met.
The team gathered in Jericho’s big room just after midnight - once young Jackie had managed to escape the amorous attentions of the tavern owner – and Alex told the whole sorry tale that Alice had confided in her. After several flagons of ale; all purchased by Alex of course.
Alice confided that her master was suffering from a ‘blood disorder’ and had been told by various ‘surgeons’ that it would end in death; a very unpleasant death. So the old knight had decided to go out on his own terms; sword in hand fighting for a good cause. From the details that Alice gave of the actual illness,
Alex believed the old man was suffering from bowel cancer; totally
untreatable and incurable in the time period. He would die a terrible death
with a great deal of pain and suffering.
The team listened in silence until Wilson muttered; “Brave old bugger. I admire a man who intends to go in the way he wants.”
No-one could disagree with that sentiment. It was a very subdued team
that went to their beds that night. But Alex slipped away with Jackie right
behind: the girls had decided to plead with Sir Robert not to fight and they
knew how to persuade men!
They gently knocked at his door and announced themselves. Sir Robert told them to enter, and they did after checking the dark corridor. Sir Robert was sitting up in his rough bed staring at a ladies silver necklace. He grunted and placed it down, next to his sword. “My late wife’s.” Was all he said. Alex was quite blunt and told the knight that he was too ill to fight and what would his dear wife say about throwing his life away on a lost cause. The old man smiled; “You, sweet lady, are much a likeness to her. Especially your fine breasts that gown cannot hide. Pardon me, but I’m a blunt man and speak as I feel. But I will fight on the morrow, and I will die as I wish: sword in hand, not whimpering or crying in a damn bed!”
The girls exchanged a glance, and both smiled. Alex walked over and said quietly, “I think we can persuade you that life is precious and should be clung too for as long as possible.” She heaved the rough blanket back and knelt at his side as he just stared at her, quite speechless. Jackie knelt the other side and pushed a finger against his lips as Alex pulled up his night shirt. Now they did smile at each other. “Your dear wife was a very lucky woman Sir Robert!” She exclaimed, taking hold of his large, but flaccid cock. Jackie also took hold and Alex lowered her head, pushing it into her mouth and began to caress the tip with her lips and tongue. Sir Robert groaned a little but made no effort to stop them. Alex went to work and used all her experience and skill to make it stiffen and swell. Jackie then joined in and now Sir Robert really did groan.
The girls gave his cock an incredible blowjob, taking turns and then both running their tongues up and down the quivering member. Alex left Jackie to suck while she pulled up her skirt and petticoats revealing her fanny and thighs. Sir Robert moaned quietly, and Jackie held his cock while Alex mounted him. All the old knight could say [to Jackie] was “Girl, open her shirt and let those wonders loose!” Which Jackie did and Sir Robert quickly took hold of Alex’s magnificent swinging tits, as she now rode him with real skill. Jackie helped keep up Alex’s skirt and petticoats as she quickly moved back and forth, then leaned over so that Sir Robert could taste and enjoy her big breasts and he especially appreciated her large hard nipples. He soon had them in his mouth and was suckling like a hungry infant.
Jackie gave Alex’s bum a little slap, saying “Harder girl! He loves you riding him!” and Alex did as she was told, giggling a little. Alex gasped a couple of times, “Your next, if he likes special ladies!” Jackie shook her head, “I somehow don’t think he does. Not in this time and place, best that remains our little secret.” Alex groaned and nodded, now placing her hands flat against the wall to gain more thrust. She had a small orgasm and threw her head back, so Jackie grabbed her face and the pair kissed with tongues and some real passion: as usual!
That sight was enough for Sir Robert, he dropped Alex’s big tits and groaned with delight as his cock spurted deep inside of her. That caused Alex to have a little orgasm of her own. She leaned forward, panting, and kissed the old knights head. “We’ll soon have you back up, if you wish for more.” Sir Robert lay back and wiped his sweating brow, “Is that a fools question? Is the bloody Pope a man of God?” he then chuckled and took hold of her tits again, smiling broadly.
Alex lifted off him, squatting and leaning over so that he could continue enjoying her big breasts while Jackie went to work on his flaccid cock. She had to get Alex’s help, it stubbornly refused to harden and so both girls worked on it with no result. Finally Sir Robert, cussing a great deal, admitted he couldn’t raise another. That made him angry and in sheer frustration told the girls to leave. Sensing he wasn’t happy now, they wisely departed. They stood in the corridor and discussed the old knight and concluded that he would probably keep his date with death on the morrow. They returned to their room quite sad, with Alex aroused and unsatisfied. Oh, how she wished the tavern had a ‘Night Porter’ like the one she had encountered before the team jumped to this miserable year!
Jackie came to her rescue by suggesting they share the bed and Alex quickly agreed. But that was no surprise to Jackie.
8. TRIAL BY COMBAT. [PART 2]
It appeared most of the town had gathered in the small field that warm morning; they stood in little groups and spoke quietly amongst themselves. The trial judges sat on a hastily constructed podium on decorated chairs. They were surrounded by several guards and the three men sat in silence until the prisoner was brought from her cell and held between two burly soldiers with chains about her feet and hands.
She was still gagged to prevent her calling for the Devil’s assistance or disrupting the proceedings. Jericho noted that she didn’t appear so happy about the mad old knight leaping to her defense. He wondered what the significance of that was. Jackie whispered to him about what the amorous pub owner had told her; he had it on good authority from one of the Church guards that Ester had demanded the court ignore the obviously crazy old man and continue her trial.
Jericho wondered why she had done that. Jackie almost smiled; “Apparently, if the good knight dies in her defense, then the court will know she’s guilty and they have to pass the correct sentence required by law; burning at the stake with her cursed books thrown onto the flames to join her in hell.” She looked about to make sure she wasn’t overheard; “If old Sir Robert hadn’t interfered, they would have been merciful – she chuckled at that – and just bricked her up to die. I wonder if Sir Robert has – unwillingly – messed up the Dark Side’s plans.”
The pair was joined by the rest of the team and Father Adam’s told Jericho that the old knight refused to change his mind despite the last-minute plea’s by his staff [Alice and Leofric] and himself. “He’s set his mind to die with dignity and honour this day.” Father Adam’s said softly and wiped his face. He had managed to see the book about ‘Anebos’ and confirmed to Jericho that it was e copy – fake – but a very good fake.
Jericho sighed; “Well that confirms that someone swaps the fakes over after Ester is bricked up; to be found centuries later by experts and scholars who will declare them authentic and that will change history, expose the church to more scandal and judgment. A very clever plan indeed by the Dark Side.”
A couple of shabby trumpeters sounded their horns and Sir John Gavell appeared in full armour; his helmet held in one hand and his sword in the other. He knelt before the three judges and held up his sword, swearing to defend Christ, the Church and Justice. He received little support or applause from the crowd. They knew this evil man by reputation and deeds. When he wasn’t defending ‘mother church’ his was seeking out young girls to rape and burn as witches. He also liked to collect the taxes owed to the church authorities by torture and murder. He was growing wealthier each year and now owed houses and estates in both Kent and Essex.
Most people said his heart was as black as his armour.
The crowd cheered and applauded enthusiastically as Sir Robert appeared. They were ordered to be silent by the leading judge who blessed Sir John. There was no such blessing for a quiet Sir Robert who pulled on his helmet. Alex noted the smile as his face disappeared beneath the iron helmet.
Jackie gripped Jericho by the arm; “The head judge is Bishop William of Winchester and a known supporter of the Dark prince. The two other judges [a rich merchant and a local Baron] are both clean. It’s also known that the bishop is a collector of ancient manuscripts. Apparently, it’s rumoured that his collection contains several works that the church has outlawed. That’s our man, I think.”
Jericho nodded and had a pretty good idea where Ester had received her copies from. “Check if there are any breeches of the timeline around him.” He said quietly, But Jackie stopped and gestured to the two knights; the fight was on.
Leofric helped his master mount ‘Thunder’ and handed up his lance. The old knight patted the boy and said something, then slammed down the visor on his helmet. Sir John’s squire had done the same for his master. The two knights stood at the edges of the field and waited for the ‘Herald’ to call for the fighting to start. The Herald rode into the centre of the field carrying a lance with a single black flag attached. He held it up and shouted if both men were ready. Both Sir John and Sir Robert lifted their lances to signal that they were.
The Herald waved his lance up and down, shouting; “By God’s grace, let justice be done!” He lowered his lance until the tip touched the grass. Both knights spurred their mounts and thundered towards each other, lances at the ready.
They came together almost exactly in the middle of the field. The crowd
screamed and shouted as the lances crashed against the opposite knights small
shield. The two passed each other – both apparently unharmed – and the pair
turned to face each other again. The pair came together again and there were
more screams and shouts as Sir Robert fell from his mount and lay still on the
grass. Sir John threw down his broken lance and slipped carefully from his
horse; pulling his sword from the saddle.
The crowd almost held its breath but broke into cheers as Sir Robert staggered up and called for his faithful horse to come. Thunder – limping badly – pulled up next to his master and Sir Robert grabbed his sword. Just in time because Sir John was almost upon him. The two swords met in midair and caused little sparks to fly. Sir Robert was forced down on one knee and only just stopped Sir John’s sword from crashing down on his exposed shoulder.
He pulled himself up and the two men circled each other; swords at the ready. They came together with real brutality and violence. But young Sir John was the stronger and he managed to catch Sir Robert across the left knee, and everyone could see blood running freely down his leg. But the old knight struck back with strength found from somewhere and caught Sir John a telling blow across the shoulder. They both staggered away from each other and then Sir John came again. He wouldn’t be stopped this time and with his sword gripped in both hands drove the blade down and caught Sir Roberts injured leg.
Sir Robert fell awkwardly on his back and Sir John seized his chance and standing above the prostrate knight brought his sword down on his left shoulder. Everyone could hear the screams across the field as Sir John repeatedly drove the sword through the old knights shoulder and finally just below the neck of the helmet, causing a big spurt of blood to cover the old knight. Sir John stepped away and held his sword aloft shouting his victory.
Few of the crowd applauded his bloody victory. Sir John walked over to Thunder and drove his sword through the horse’s neck, the huge blood spurt covered his helmet and chest armour. The horse collapsed next to his dead master. Normally, the vanquished knight’s horse would be kept as a prize by the victor.
but Sir John had decided that the old - and now lame – horse was of no value to him. Now that did turn the crowd against him. They were booing and screaming with anger. Church soldiers had to confront them with swords draw and spears at the ready. The head judge jumped from his chair and ordered the field cleared.
Jericho wiped his face and stared at his mirror discretely; the fight had taken less than six minutes. Only the Temporal detectives could see Kate the Collector and Sir Robert’s soul disappear into the light.
There was now sporadic fighting amongst the town’s people and the church soldiers. Percival Parish told the team to follow him – especially young Jackie! – And take cover in his tavern. Everyone pushed into the quiet pub and Percival bolted the doors and covered them with two big wooden seats; aided by Wilson.
Percival asked for silence, and everyone could hear the shouting; “A bloody night curfew until dawn, anyone found outside will be arrested. They’re shouting that the witch and her books will burn tomorrow at noon.”
Jericho slumped onto a rough seat by the shuttered window and didn’t smile; “If Ester and her books burn tomorrow, then that’s the end of this mission. If she dies in the flames, then she won’t be found bricked up. End of story.” Alex sat down slowly next to him and nodded; “That brave old man [Sir Robert] has saved us a lot of trouble.”
Jackie had managed to escape old Percival [who went to fetch bread, cheese and beer] and joined them at the table. “Not quite over, I think. All they will burn is fakes; who has the originals and where are they now? Don’t we need to find them? Especially that bloody book about Anebos.”
Jericho nodded at that and rubbed his chin, smiling as Father Adam’s joined them. Wilson was by the door, keeping watch through the gap’s in the wood. He shouted over; “The church soldiers have cleared the streets; it appears all quiet now.”
Percival had appeared with a tray laden with beer flagons, bread and cheese. He served Jackie first – with a big smile – and told Jericho that it was on him. He smiled again at Jackie, who just sighed and sipped her beer while Alex managed to restrain some giggles which desperately wanted to escape.
Jericho asked Percival if there were any strangers hanging around the trial who seemed odd or strange. Percival laughed at that and nodded; “Yeah, that’s easy; you lot!” he laughed to himself and swilled his beer with some enthusiasm. He then stood slowly and raised his flagon. His was quite solemn. “Here’s to gallant Sir Robert, a true Knight.” Everyone rose and lifted their tankards in memory of the old man.
They sat in silence for a few minutes and then Percival tapped the rough table with his empty tankard; “You say odd or strange Sir?” Jericho nodded and leaned forward as Percival did the same. “Well, there is one that comes to mind. He turned up the day they dragged Mistress Ester before the magistrate. A big, tall fellow with a scarred face; well dressed, like a merchant but carrying a good quality sword and dagger; he looks like he knows how to use both. Paid for his board and lodging in silver coin, asked old Tom the Blacksmith to re-shoe his big dark horse. Asked lots of questions about Mistress Ester did he.”
He rose from the table and went to fetch more ale. Jericho called after him; “Did he give anyone his name and why he was in the town?” Percival stopped in the doorway and nodded; “Said he was called Ralph Coldhands and he trades in books.” He disappeared into bar to fetch another tray of beer. Everyone looked at each other and Jericho smiled, saying quietly; “Well, I think we’ll have a little chat with this Mister Ralph Coldhands.”
9. THE BOOK TRADER AND THE BISHOP.
Just after dawn, the team made its way towards the cathedral [lost amongst the crowds of pilgrims] and they noted the church soldiers out in force, guarding certain points around the town. They stopped in the market square and watched several men driving a big wooden stake into the ground and placing plenty of wood around it. That made Alex shudder a little; Ester may belong to the Dark Side, but no woman should suffer such a horrific fate. The team hurried pass into the cathedral.
There was an early morning mass under way and the team sat right at the back. Father Adam’s had disappeared from the cloisters and into the inner sanctum of the cathedral, where only church people went. It was old Percival slipping onto the pew next to Jericho that delivered the news they had been waiting for. In the tavern, ‘The Horse’s Rump’, the bishop and a certain mister Ralph Coldhands were having a full breakfast and clearly enjoying each other’s company.
He then whispered to Jericho certain news that he wanted to keep from the ladies; it appears that several of the church soldiers guarding Ester had got drunk and raped her, only stopping when their relief turned up, who were all sober and didn’t approve of what was going on. Apparently, the Bishop had forgiven the men and just fined them a few pence for being drunk on duty!
“She was badly injured and will be carried to the flames on a litter. Her books have been bundled into a bag which has been painted with tar to help it burn. When the flames are high enough, the bishop himself will throw the bag of books into the flames.” Percival crossed himself – which he didn’t do often – and smiled broadly at Jackie.
Jericho whispered his thanks and the team gathered outside. He bought them up to date with Percival’s news. “I have a strong suspicion that the bishop and the book trader are discussing who pays what for the books which will never been tossed on the bloody flames. They certainly won’t be in that bag he [the bishop] throws into the fire.”
They were joined by Father Adam’s, wiping his face and neck. “I’ve found the little antechamber that was bricked up. Take a guess what it’s used for at the moment.” He muttered with a little smile. No one knew. He smiled broadly; “It’s the bloody Arch-Bishop’s privy!” That caused a little ripple of laughter amongst the group. The old priest continued; “They’re building him a lovely new one in his private apartments here and I expect they will simply brick it up, if they can’t think of a new use for such a small room.”
Wilson rubbed his face; “Perfect opportunity for someone to place the books in there, so they’re found in 1977 when the restoration works are carried out.” Jericho nodded; “I suspect it will be our book trader or the bishop that does that. Alex and Jackie; get over to that bloody tavern and find out who the book trader really is.” Both girls nodded and were surprised to be joined by Father Adam’s. “You two ladies will be much safer if accompanied by a man of God.” He waved his wooden crucifix about his neck and added; “This does actually carry real authority in this time and place!” The three set off for the tavern – arm in arm – whilst Jericho and Wilson set off to find Leofric and the others of the old knight’s retinue. They found Leofric and the boy Simon heading towards the south gate. It appears that Mistress Alice had disappeared during the night, abandoning the boy to his fate. Leofric told them that several tradesmen and merchants of the town had gathered together and would pay for the old knight to have decent burial in a local parish church.
Jericho asked Leofric about the boy. He sighed and patted the boy on the head; “I’ll take him back to my father’s farm. He can live with my family until he’s grown, then he can decide for himself what he does.” Jericho slipped Leofric a small bag of silver coins and thanked him for his kindness and loyalty to his old master. Leofric didn’t smile but took the coins slowly. “I know he [the old knight] didn’t think much of me as his squire, but I adored the old sod. I’ll look after the boy until he’s grown, that’s my duty now.”
Wilson and Jericho watched the pair disappear through the busy south gate onto the London Road. “Now he probably would have made a real knight.” Wilson said softly and Jericho could only agree. They headed back to the cathedral, where they had agreed to meet up with Father Adam’s and the girls.
They passed a couple of ragged beggars rolling in the mud; apparently fighting over some bones thrown out of nearby kitchen. A couple of equally scruffy dogs joined in; they won.
They turned from the strange – and a little humorous sight – and were now
facing Mister Ralph Coldhands, standing right in front of them, clutching three
or four books. By his shoulders were two burly church guards. Jericho and
Wilson bowed a little and stood to one side. Ralph stared long and hard at the
pair; especially Wilson and walked away hurriedly, looking behind him several
times.
Wilson rubbed his chin and didn’t smile; “That bugger looks familiar, but I don’t why.” Jericho shrugged his shoulders; he had only recognized him by his scar, clothes and books. There couldn’t possibly be two men of that odd description in Canterbury at the same time. But Jericho knew one thing for certain; ‘Ralph’ had certainly recognized Wilson from somewhere and that could mean he was the time–traveller they were after.
They joined the girls at the strangely named tavern and asked where the good father was. “He was joined by two local priests who insisted he join them for breakfast and mass. He couldn’t resist taking part in a bloody medieval mass for some reason.” Alex explained and Jackie couldn’t wait to inform them about what her mirror had discovered about ‘Ralph Coldhands’. Jericho sighed; “What’s the real identity of our time travelling friend?” He asked a surprised Jackie.
“I won’t even ask how you always know these bloody things, but your right. He’s real name is Giovanni Romano, and he was born in 1884, in Naples. My mirror picked up a time portal somewhere on him. He’s a missing soul; he missed his dispatch date in 1933.”
Wilson sighed; “I remember him now. I was the Detective Constable on Stella Longstreet’s team and we dealt with a bunch of Satan worshippers in 1910 that was run by a woman from 2028. He [Giovanni] was a seller of rare books at the time, mostly on the occult and witchcraft. But we got her and most of the Coven, but I know that Giovanni was one of a pair that escaped. He must have jumped, but I’m sure we located the time portal the woman was using and closed it.”
Jericho just sighed and folded his arms; “That bloody complicates matters now. We need to close his portal and return him to his own time to meet his departure on time.” He stared across the square and saw that little groups of people were gathering to watch the witch burn. “I take it nobody wants to watch the show. Let’s go people.”
Everyone agreed with that, and Jericho slipped the taverns serving girl some pennies to inform the old priest that his friends had returned to their lodgings. That’s when Father Adam’s appeared - walking quickly – from the cathedral. He gestured from them to follow him and bloody quickly. They did so without questions.
They followed the panting old priest to the huge stable complex at the rear of the cathedral and gathered around him. “You’ve been exposed by that fellow Coldhands. He’s informed the bishop that he recognized Wilson from a previous witch trial and you’re here to try and the save the witch. It appears that the bishop is only involved in this to sell Ester’s books. He just wants the money. He’s ordered your arrest; that’s you and Wilson, with the girls of course.”
“Fuck!” was all Jericho said and that’s when they saw smoke billowing up from the square. Father Adam’s crossed himself and gestured to the stable that contained their carriage, horses and of course; Owens’s favourite donkey; Freddie. “I think we best get off the streets. There will be church soldiers all over the place once they finish the burning.” Everyone disappeared into the stable complex. The place was empty; everyone was at the witch burning.
Jericho pulled open their carriage door and stood on the step; “Right, everyone but me and Jackie will jump back to the lighthouse. Wilson will get Father Adam’s home. Now me and Owen will change and tackle that bastard Giovanni and close his time portal. No one will recognize Owen dressed as a young man now. They certainly won’t recongnise me; I’m a master of disguise when the time calls for it.”
Everyone said their goodbyes and vanished. Owen had to chuckle at the disguise that Jericho wore. He was now a travelling minstrel complete with lute and funny hat. Owen was dressed like any young man of the period and carried a small drum and flute. They made their way from the stable and passed several church soldiers: stopping groups of men who had ladies with them. They weren’t having much success and fights almost broke out. Jericho actually went up to a couple of soldiers standing by the Baker’s and asked directions to Percival’s tavern. The solders told him to ‘piss off’ and went back to talking about the witch and her gang of accomplices. “The big black man will be easy to find; unless he paints himself white!” The older one laughed loudly at his own words. The younger one just grinned and scratched his lice ridden crotch with some vigour.
Jericho and Owen reached Percival’s tavern without being stopped by a single church soldier or officer. They passed a couple of town crier’s ringing their bells and shouting about a reward of several silver pieces for the gang of warlocks and witches. They sat in the tavern and drank some beer. Little Helen, the serving girl told them that the landlord [Percival] was always looking for entertainment in his tavern and food was included with the lodging. Jericho strummed his lute and leapt to feet. Owen could only watch in amazement as the normally restrained Jericho sung and danced on the table top!
Owen had to restrain himself from laughing out loud; Jericho was singing the ‘Good Ship Venus’ – the very naughty version! - The crowd loved it, shouting and applauding. Owen shrugged his shoulders and jumped on the table, joining in with his drum. Percival stood in the doorway grinning; this pair of minstrels were certainly worth their lodging and beer. They would get their hat filled with a few coins tonight.
They lay in front of the small kitchen stove and warmed their feet. Owen held up his hat and giggled a little; ”We made four and a half penny tonight. That is really good money for this time and place; maybe the equivalent of sixty or seventy pounds.” He dropped the hat down and wriggled his toes, enjoying the heat. Jericho was consulting his mirror; “The timeline has reverted to its original course. Ester’s body was never discovered, but her bloody books were. Our job’s still not done yet.”
He pushed the mirror into his shabby but colourful jacket and sighed; “Now, how the hell do we get into the cathedral inner sanctum and empty that bloody room of those damn books?”
Owen shrugged his shoulders; he didn’t know. That’s when the door to the kitchen swung open and both stared at the church officer standing in the doorway. Jericho’s finger hovered above the emergency travel icon on his mirror. The big man grinned; “Do you two buggers want to earn a silver thrupence?” Jericho pulled himself up and nodded. The captain of the church guard smiled; “The Bishop is giving a little private party tomorrow night in his chambers at the cathedral. You two seem to know the songs he likes. Be at the kitchens after Evensong. There will be plenty of beer and food.” He gave the surprised pair a little wave and was gone. Walking down the small corridor, deep in thought about the failed apprehension of the witches and their accomplices; he never heard the pair of minstrels laughing.
10. SHOWTIME.
They stood by the doors of the huge kitchens, packed with cooks and assistants. There was an entire pig roasting on a spit, with several big chickens cooking alongside it. The captain dropped a silver coin into Jericho’s outstretched hand and smiled; “You can be rude as you like, sing about anything naughty; this is a stag evening, the only women here are harlots and whores. You’re on after the bloody Jester.” He slapped Jericho on the shoulder and pointed into the big dining room. “Just behind the statue of St. Peter, you can doss there, watch the show and perform when the Jester has finished.” He wandered off, swigging a flagon of beer.
Owen stood with his mouth open as a big girl approached the pair with a tankard in each hand, “Here you are boys. Helen [the girl from Percival’s tavern] said you’re bloody rude and funny. I can’t wait, if you want any more beer or grub just shout.” Jericho nodded and his took his tankard. Owen accepted his very slowly and the pair watched the girl walk away. She was completely naked apart from a small black leather apron that covered very little.
Jericho sipped his beer; “Do you know that I always thought senior clergy spent their evenings in quiet contemplation of God and praying a lot. How wrong can you get?” Owen just smiled as another naked serving girl walked pass, carrying four tankards in her hands. “Now that’s real skill.” Jericho pointed out with a small smile.
Owen just groaned and followed Jericho; they sat on the floor behind the statue of St. Peter and watched the party get underway. A fire-eater received some applause, but only after he had set his beard and shoulders alight; he ran from the room screaming and plunged his head into a bucket of water. He wasn’t happy; the bucket was used by kitchen staff to relieve themselves.
The jester was on next, a big fat man with a high squeaky voice. He waved his colourful sticks about and jingled his bells. He told jokes about the King, the Queen, Welsh people, the French and mostly about the Scots. He was as funny as having your penis cut off with a rusty blunt axe. The crowd threw anything they could grab at him. He fled the hall as couple of daggers thudded into the stone floor.
He passed by the two minstrels shouting for God and his mother.
Jericho and Owen leapt to their feet and Jericho strummed his lute while Owen banged his drum. They marched out with Jericho singing ‘The Good Ship Venus’ again. The crowd loved it. Again. He followed up with several well-known ‘Rugby Songs’ [well known in another century of course!] and the appreciative audience screamed for more. He finished with ‘Lydia the tattooed lady’ and there were shouts for more. The pair did two encores before the audience let them go and settled back to watch two young girls rolling about the floor on a rug; having hard lesbian sex with each other and several wooden toys.
The captain staggered past them, and they followed him into the corridor. They watched as he pissed through an open window and then rejoined the party. Jericho was following his mirror’s directions and they found the archbishops little privy. The door was already bricked up half of its length. Jericho shone his torch in; there was nothing but the privy seat and a disgusting looking bundle of cloth.
“Nothing to read?” muttered Owen, then saw the remains of several pages on the floor; he peered closely and grunted; “The Gospel of St. Mark. Charming.”
That’s when they heard the footsteps in the dark corridor and could see a small light appearing. Jericho operated his mirror, and the pair was cloaked from living humans. They watched as Giovanni, holding a small lamp with a bundle of books under his arm appeared. He looked about and threw the books into the privy, chuckling a little to himself. They watched him carefully as he placed the lamp on the floor and looking about again, pulled a small watch from a pocket.
Jericho checked his mirror and found that it was indicating a free flowing time portal. He raised his mirror and operated the defence app, stunning Giovanni, who collapsed on the floor.
“Get those bloody books!” Jericho shouted and Owen climbed over the bricks and pushed the books into his bag. Jericho pulled the watch from Giovanni and stuffed it into his pocket. When Owen re-joined him, they lifted Giovanni up and Jericho operated his mirror. They disappeared just as the captain staggered into the corridor. All he saw was Giovanni apparently floating in mid air then vanish completely. The captain sighed and shook his head; fucking roast pig did it to him every time. He had sworn to give it up, but he loved it dearly. He groaned and stumbled away. The bishop’s party drew him back with the star turn about to perform, Big Kate and her donkey Malcolm.
Jericho and Alex watched from the crowded street as the royal cars passed them, heading for the main doors of the cathedral.
They watched as Lord price welcomed the Queen, next to the archbishop of
course. Just behind the pair stood a smiling Jenifer Sailles. “I love the idea
that she’ll never know how different her fate would have been, had the dark Side
succeeded with their little scheme.” Alex grinned and waved a small plastic
‘union jack’ flag.
Jericho just grunted and stood with his arms folded. “Demon Ingress reports that Ester has become a minion of the Dark Prince; he loved her scheme, and we all know that he can spot real dark talent when he finds it.” Alex chuckled; “I understand from Owen that you’re quite some talent yourself with a lute!”
Jericho almost smiled; “Come on, let’s get back to the lighthouse. Mrs. Harris has knocked up a hot beef curry; one of my favourites.” The pair found a quiet shop doorway and simply vanished.
CHARACTERS
Miss Jenifer Sallies fate was changed by the actions of the temporal detectives and never was imprisoned. She left her job with the Church of England and wrote children’s books for a living. She married in 1983 and had three children. She lived to be 97 and died surrounded by her large family in a Kent Hospice. Her soul was collected and processed.
John Kennedy never died in the house fire in 1977 and continued his career as an investigative journalist. He wrote several books about organized crime. He was shot dead on his doorstep as he returned home from the pub. No one was ever arrested or charged with his murder and it remains unsolved to this day. But what humans never discovered that it was no 'gangland' contract killing: John had been having an affair with his sister-in-law and his angry and violent brother had discovered it and murdered him. The dumb human detectives still didn't catch on when the sister-in-law went missing just days afterwards and was never seen or heard of again! John's soul was collected and processed, telling 'little Rosie' the Collector all about it.
Detective Inspector Gary Meadows accidently drowned whilst on a family holiday in Greece during the summer of 1984. He left a widow and two children. His son [David] was to follow in his father’s footsteps and join Kent Police in the 1990's. Gary’s soul was collected and processed.
Detective Sergeant William Turner was involved in an incident with two young women who made serious allegations against him in 1981. Whilst nothing was proved, he left the police and was last heard of driving Lorries around Europe. He died in 2021 and his soul was collected and processed. It was quarantined for 250 human years for abduction, murder and rape of several young women and girls. He may have escaped human justice; but he couldn’t escape Divine justice!
Dr. Frank Gardener worked as a Pathologist until his retirement in 1991. He took up gardening and his flowers won several prizes in local shows. He died in 2002 from lung cancer – he was a heavy smoker – and his soul was collected and processed.
Professor Allan Fordham’s fate interested Owen. Whilst not connected with this particular mission Owen looked up the Collector who had dealt with the dead man’s soul. Owen was shocked to find that Alex had probably been right. The professor claimed he had been strung up by three rough men after they destroyed his papers on his breakthrough vaccine. Diabetes remains uncured to this day and currently costs just the NHS a staggering £10 BILLION each year! It appears Alex was more right than she would ever know………
Sir Robert De Morse lived up to his title as ‘knight’ defending a supposed innocent woman against charges of ‘Devilry and witchcraft’. His family was disgraced, and his lands confiscated by the Church. He had been killed in very unequal combat and his soul was collected and processed. He now works as a Collector.
Simon De Morse, the old Knight’s young grandson lost all his grandfathers lands and titles. He had no other living relatives and had the boy not been taken in by Leofric, he would probably have starved to death in the hedgerows. He grew into a big strong man and worked his new family’s farm. He married and had six children by two wives. He died in 1444 and his soul was collected and processed.
Mistress Alice Field abandoned the boy [young Simon] immediately after his grandfather’s death. She worked as a house maid for a local merchant and died of the ‘pox’ in 1386. Her soul was collected and processed.
Leofric Sailmaker remained loyal to the De Morse family after the knight’s death and took the boy Simon into his home. He worked as a farmer and raised the boy like his own son. He died in 1398 and his soul was collected and processed.
Richard Catchpocket [Tavern Owner] died in his sleep after suffering an unspecified fever in 1381. His funeral was attended by several of his old comrades from the former King’s wars. He has no less than five hundred descendants living today! His soul was collected and processed. It was quarantined for a full human Century for some serious acts of murder and rape committed whilst a young solder of the old King.
Mistress Ester Clemencies was burnt at the stake and her books were snatched by Jericho. Thus, history never recorded or noted her ‘remarkable finds or discoveries’. The current human timeline had been restored by the temporal detectives. She went to her master – the Dark Prince – a failure. But the prince knows dark talent when he sees it. She is currently a Tier Two Demon and is heading for the top. Team 74 will encounter her again.
William Courtenay [Archbishop of Canterbury – 1377] distanced himself from the trial and ensured he wasn’t involved. He was a pious man and perhaps didn’t have the stomach for a ‘show trial’. He died in 1396 and his soul was collected and processed.
Percival Parish died in 1392. He was found face down in a local pond. The magistrate decided he had died – by drowning – after a drinking session. Percival had, in fact, been murdered by his mistress Gwen and her brother Henry. The pair disappeared with his life savings of several pounds and fled to York where they opened a tavern together. Having no family, the tavern was sold to a wealthy merchant from Kent in 1393. It survived until 1658, when it was destroyed by fire. In the modern era, where it stood is now just part of a parade of shops. Percival’s soul was collected and processed.
Sir John Gavell was made a Baron in 1380 and married three times – all young girls – and had nine children. He died in 1409 a very rich old man surrounded by his large family. His direct descendants still have power to this day, and most are followers of the Dark Side. Unsurprisingly, no soul was collected. He is now a Senior Minion of the Dark Prince and Demon Ingress believes he could soon be a Tier Two Demon. He’s also headed for the top in that organization, he’s great friends with the demon Ester; they make a wonderful dark couple!
Ralph Coldhands; aka Giovanni Romano was returned to his own time period by Jericho and Owen. The time portal he used had been closed by Jericho and he died in 1933 and his soul was collected and processed. He received no sanction for his time travelling escapades from Angel Margret which surprised Team 74.
The Captain of the Church Guard; Edward Bellman died in 1380 of a strange fever and his soul was collected and processed. He left a wife and seven children [two by the wife of his neighbour!] Some of his descendants still live in the area today.
