The Jackal Man Read Free Page B

round with what he feared was an inane grin on his face and saw her standing in
     the doorway holding a large wooden tray. He hurried over to her, almost tripping over a well worn rug, and took the tray,
     hoping to impress her by good manners. He wasn’t sure why he felt so eager to make a good impression: after all, it wasn’t
     really something that would benefit the Unit. But there was something about this woman that made him feel he had to be on
     his best behaviour.
    ‘In fact that’s why I contacted your Unit. I thought it would be the best place to start,’ she said as Neil placed the tray
     carefully onto a side table. ‘My uncle died three months ago and I inherited the house and estate.’
    ‘Wow.’ Neil temporarily forgot to play the cool professional.
    ‘It’s more a burden than a blessing, I’m afraid. I’m negotiating for the National Trust to take the place over. There’s no
     way I can afford the upkeep.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ said Neil.
    ‘Don’t be. It’s an old mausoleum of a place.’
    ‘Did you move in as soon as your uncle died?’
    ‘More or less. I didn’t like to think of leaving the place empty.’
    ‘Do you live here alone?’
    She didn’t answer for a few seconds. ‘I have a flat in London – bought it as soon as my divorce came through – so I’m used
     to fending for myself.’
    Her answer seemed a little evasive and Neil wondered if she was hiding something … or someone.
    ‘What did you do in London?’
    ‘I was PA to a company director.’ She paused. ‘And the director in question was a shit. When I inherited this place Itold him where he could stick his job.’ She smiled at the memory.
    ‘Did you come here much as a child?’
    She looked him in the eye as though she was about to share a confidence. ‘My mother said that when I was very young I used
     to start screaming as soon as the car drove through the gates. The place really used to scare me.’ She paused. ‘Bad things
     happened here and I’ll be glad to get rid of it.’
    ‘What bad things?’ Her words had aroused his curiosity.
    She waved a hand dismissively and picked up her coffee cup, a chunky mug with a colourful design: Neil had expected bone china.
     ‘It’s not important.’
    Caroline straightened her back, suddenly businesslike. Neil had caught a brief glimpse behind the confident mask but now the
     defences were up again. Something in that house made her uncomfortable and he suspected that her decision to give away her
     inheritance hadn’t been influenced solely by financial considerations.
    ‘The thing is,’ she began, ‘my great-grandfather amassed this huge collection of Egyptian artefacts. The castle’s crammed
     with the things and they’re not comfortable to live with, to put it mildly.’
    ‘I can understand that,’ said Neil with sympathy. It seemed that the hall and the library only contained a fraction of the
     collection. Elsewhere there would be more. And as the ancient Egyptians had put a lot of energy into creating and furnishing
     magnificent tombs, most of what was discovered by later generations was connected with death and funerary rites. The walls
     of this forbidding house were filled with the memento mori of an ancient civilisation. And this thought made him feel uncomfortable.
    ‘The main collection’s upstairs but it’s probably best if we start down here and tackle that later. I’d like you to go through
     everything, Dr Watson. I need to know what’s here … and if it has any value. There’s always a chance the National Trust
     will want to keep the collection here intact of course, or it might go to a museum, but I’d like to know what I’m dealing
     with. Just an initial assessment. Nothing too detailed.’
    He saw her looking at him expectantly. He was the first port of call. And he felt reluctant to admit his ignorance and tell
     her she was wasting her time. But he knew it was best to be straight with her. ‘I admit I’m not an expert on