Death at King Arthur's Court Read Free

the Winnebago. ‘Well, I hope so, because I can’t get inside it. I think we had better find out if we have a crime scene here. I checked all the rooms and didn’t find a thing. Was anyone else here overnight?’
    â€˜No. There were a few people over for drinks and barbecue but everyone left except Morgan. He locked himself in his RV fairly early on. Bea’s away at a conference for women legislators in Washington and will be back sometime later today.’
    â€˜I know. She’s concerned about the threats to Morgan and called me at home this morning. She said she’d been trying to get in touch with you for hours, but the phones are out of order.’ Rocco pounded on the side of the RV. ‘Morgan! I kid you not, open the door.’
    Rocco appraised the modified RV again. ‘I estimate that doing what he did to this vehicle would have set me back about two years’ salary.’
    â€˜I know the amount of your salary, since it’s in the town’s annual report, so make that about three years’ worth.’
    Rocco began to impatiently pound on the side of the Winnebago. ‘Damn it, Morgan! Open this can of tuna fish or you’re getting a citation. You hear me? It’s going to cost you a fine.’
    â€˜Morgan is contrary. He opens up when and if he chooses to,’ Lyon said.
    â€˜Oh, yeah,’ Rocco said with a twinge of anger. ‘Well, I think something’s happened out here. Look at that.’ He pointed to a thin trail of blood across the drive that the sword had left as Lyon dragged it to the house. ‘Something’s damn sure coming down unless you were hunting rodents with that crusader impaler.’
    Lyon shook his head. ‘You’re an alarmist. I’m still convinced that’s animal blood meant for a warning. Morgan’s OK unless someone put a lot of pounds of plastic explosives underneath the RV, which they obviously haven’t. He modified the thing for protection and I think he succeeded.’
    Rocco stalked around the vehicle as he examined it for damage or means of entry. ‘Hell, I don’t know. Maybe they gassed him through the air vents or something.’
    â€˜He anticipated that possibility and installed an air-filtration system. It’s built into that air-conditioning unit on the roof.’
    â€˜Isn’t there a way to get into this damn thing?’
    â€˜It’s a combination lock and only Morgan and I have the combination,’ Lyon said.
    Rocco stopped to glare at his friend. ‘This is all a set-up to get me, right? Crusader swords and impregnable vehicles are Morgan’s idea of funning me, right? Listen, you two wise-guys, I have a meeting with the first selectman in half an hour and she is trying to cut my budget. No more fun and games this morning or I will get really grumpy.’
    â€˜No games, Rocco,’ Lyon said.
    â€˜If you have the combination, open the damn thing. Under the circumstances, I can hardly leave the premises until I am satisfied that Morgan is alive and well.’
    Lyon punched two numbers into the combination panel next to the door, cleared them and inserted another set of three. He cleared those and hesitated. ‘I forgot it.’
    Rocco pointed to the long sword on the floor just inside the vestibule. ‘You see that thing. Forget your hooded apparitions; I am going to cut your head off with it. You forgot it! Wake up, Lyon!’
    â€˜Come to think of it, I do believe I made a note of the numbers in my study.’
    Lyon hurried through the house and into his study down the hall from the kitchen. Sitting at his desk in front of the computer console, he pulled out the secretary drawer. Years ago he had taped a piece of yellow typewriter paper on the pull-out and had made a practice of jotting down serial numbers there that he never seemed able to remember. These included their car and truck marker plate numbers, his social security number,