Amanda Cadabra and The Hidden Depths by Holly Bell (best love novels of all time txt) 📕

take our tasks out of here and into the daylight.’

Amanda and Jonathan fervently agreed.

Chapter 36

The Latin Connection

Trelawney placed a uniformed constable at the edge of the Situation Room. He didn’t want to risk any more information being overheard, as it must have been by whoever was lurking in the stacks.

Jonathan accessed his emails, looked through the contacts on his phone and was searching on the internet. Unfortunately, Lynford Warder was a self-proclaimed Luddite, who had no presence online whatsoever under his own name.

‘I know I have Warder’s number somewhere,’ Jonathan insisted. ‘It might be at home. Otherwise, someone still at Hertscourt University might have it.’

‘All right, Mr Sheppard,’ said Trelawney patiently. ‘Whatever helps you find his contact details.’

‘I’ll just nip home. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

‘Thank you.’

The inspector came over to where Amanda was sitting, immersed in the journal.

‘Anything?’ he asked.

‘I’ll say. In spades.’

‘Good. Please tell me what you’ve found.’

‘Right, so the writer is on an expedition with a guide. Just the two of them. At least, he doesn’t mention anyone else. They climb a lot. It’s very dangerous. See here,’ Amanda traced the writing with her finger as she did her best to translate:

‘“Today we set off at dawn. Luckily, the light was at just the right angle and illuminated a cave upon a very narrow ledge. I was and still am uneasy but very curious. I wondered, could this be it? It was a difficult and dangerous ascent, but we were more than rewarded. I cannot begin to describe the riches we found! Suddenly we were like brothers —’

‘So, both writer and guide were male then.’

‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’

‘Please go on.’

‘“Suddenly we were like brothers, celebrating, hugging one another, staring in amazement, handling the golden treasures like we could not believe they were real. We’re camping here overnight and made our evening meal. It was late when I began to notice his … falls? — Ah, “lapses” — into silence, like brooding. I have begun to feel uneasy again.

Then here’s the next entry.

“By morning he was bright and windy — breezy — and wanting to talk about what we will do with our find. I thought it must be treasure find — trove, I suppose he means — and we must report it. I wanted to photograph and record it all, but he explained some long-winded story about taking things slowly. It didn’t matter to me about getting money for it, it was the find of the century, it could shine all sorts of light on the past.

“The more I pressed for what I believed was a right course of action, the more strong – adamant — he became.”’

‘Sounds like the lust for gold got a grip on the guide,’ observed Trelawney.

‘Yes. The journal says they stayed there for two more days, discussing what to do … tension growing. The writer says there’s no way he could get back down safely without the guide. Finally, the guide agreed to leave it all in situ, take photos and go back to let the “Kehseydh” authorities at least in the “Lowarth” — which means garden — know what they had found. They planned to leave the next day. Then comes the final entry, where the writer expresses fear, says he can no longer wait and sends some message on the wind.’

‘Are there any clues as to location?’

‘There are no names that I can recognise. The writer only ever calls the man kevarwodher — guide —, and these place-names, they’re not in Cornwall as far as I know. But two names keep coming up. Here: Kehseydh and Bredeg. Oh, and Nans Breha, but I think that’s a spelling mistake. The closest word I know is “bregh”.

‘Are those all Cornish words?’

‘Yes.’

‘What do they mean in English?’

'Er … circumference, beautiful hill and valley arm. Only I’m not sure about that last one.’

‘And would you normally capitalise any of those?’

‘Not unless they were proper nouns.’

‘Is there a place called any of those things in Cornwall?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘Me neither. Hm, let’s assume he was abroad then.’

‘Could these be translations from the language …?’

‘Of the country he was visiting? Indeed. We need a handy linguist.’

‘Lawley. Simon Lawley,’ Amanda said at once. ‘He’s a language teacher … Wait.’ A memory was stirring. There was some other connection with Lawley. If only she could see it. ‘Never mind. Yes, Lawley.’

‘He should still be at The Grange. Could you give them a ring, please Miss Cadabra? I’ll call up Jonathan and see what progress he’s making on finding his friend Warder.’

***

Ten minutes later, the Mondeo had just begun to sweep into the driveway of The Grange when Amanda abruptly spoke.

‘Wait!’

Trelawney brought the car to a halt.

‘Oh, I mean, “wait, please”. But I know what it is. Simon Lawley had a book – he was given a book that was hand-written in Cornish, but he couldn’t read it! So he gave it to a friend. What if that friend was this man, Warder? Who then gave it to Jonathan?’

‘How many Cornish hand-written books can there be around? Indeed Miss Cadabra. Let us proceed!’

On the doorstep, before ringing the bell Amanda took a moment to suppress her excitement, as the inspector requested that she allow him to conduct the interview.

Moffat opened the door and ushered Amanda and Trelawney into the small salon where Lawley was standing, awaiting them nervously.

‘Inspector, Amanda, how can I help?’

‘Let’s sit down, shall we?’ invited Trelawney in a friendly tone. ‘Mr Lawley, in the course of this investigation, we find ourselves in need of a linguist.’

Simon appeared relieved. ‘Whatever I can do.’

‘Good. Is there any language known to you in which the names Circumference, Beautiful Hill or Valley Arm figure in the geography of a country?’

‘Circumference? Hm, well, there must be scores of places called Beautiful Hill or Valley Arm, in a variety of languages, but Circumference …?’

Trelawney turned to Amanda,

‘In Cornish; it’s … Miss Cadabra?’

‘Kehseydh.’

Simon Lawley appeared to be searching his linguistic memory banks. ‘Hm …