Chapter 9
Ever since Wesley had told him about the stone wall and the carvings in the garden at Sycamore House, Neil had been impatient to get over there and have a look for himself.
He was currently supervising an excavation on the site of an eighteenth-century woollen mill outside Exeter before a housing developer moved in.
The digging was more or less over, with only the paperwork left to complete, so he reckoned it would do no harm to leave Dave, his second in command, in charge.
Which meant he was free to drive over to Neston and satisfy his curiosity.
When he arrived at Sycamore House, he found a police presence still in place.
He approached the bored-looking constable who was strolling up and down by the front door and asked him whether the owner was at home.
When the officer replied in the affirmative, Neil rang the doorbell.
Fifteen minutes later, the lady of the house was leading him through the extensive garden to the place where the tree surgeons had been working the previous day.
The householder, Helen Jones, seemed delighted by his visit. ‘I’ve always been interested in archaeology,’ she said breathlessly as they walked. ‘I loved Time Team. Never missed an episode.’
Neil made approving noises, suspecting he’d found a supportive ally. ‘Does that mean you’d have no objection to an excavation in your garden if it does turn out to be something interesting?’
Helen almost clapped her hands with glee. ‘Oh, that would be wonderful. To tell you the truth, Dr Watson . . .’
‘Neil, please.’
‘And I’m Helen. To tell you the truth, Neil, I’d be thrilled. After finding that . . . thing in the house, it’s good to have a distraction.’
‘I heard about the discovery.’
‘I’m just glad it’s been taken away, that’s all. But when you’re dead, you’re dead, and you can’t let that sort of thing interfere with your plans, can you?’
Neil nodded, impatient to see the reason for his visit.
When they reached the spot where the offending trees had been ripped up by the roots to reveal the stones underneath, his heart began to pound. He’d almost convinced himself that he’d find a Victorian garden feature, but now all his instincts told him that this was something far more exciting.
He squatted down to examine the stones. It had always been a joke in archaeological circles that one stone was a stone, two stones were a feature, three stones were a wall, four stones a building and five a palace.
There were more than five stones here, all in a line, but Neil doubted if a palace on the outskirts of the small Devon town of Neston, just eight miles from the ancient port of Tradmouth, would have gone unnoticed by local historians.
However, it certainly looked as though there’d been a substantial building of some sort on the site, and he straightened himself up and turned to Helen. ‘I think you might have something interesting here. I’ve been told the tree surgeons found something else. Some stone carvings?’
Helen nodded. ‘Darren said he’d hidden them somewhere safe, but he didn’t say exactly where. Just somewhere among the trees. We could look for them, I suppose,’ she suggested with a gleam in her eyes.
‘My thoughts exactly.’ Neil looked at the area of woodland that formed part of Sycamore House’s garden.
The tree surgeons had got rid of the pestilent leylandii, and the rest of the trees were deciduous, well-established and still in full leaf, although some of the leaves were starting to turn brown.
Helen barged on ahead with the enthusiasm of Howard Carter entering the tomb of Tutankhamen.
Neil trailed behind, barely able to keep up.
Then he heard an excited shriek. ‘They’re here. I think I’ve found them.’
He ran over to her. Three moss-covered shapes, each around three feet long, were lying on the ground.
He was wearing his digging clothes, so he knelt and began to examine them, taking his trowel from his pocket to gently scrape away the moss.
At first he couldn’t quite make out what they represented, but after a while, he realised that one was a griffin, a mythical beast, half lion, half eagle; the second resembled a bull; while the third was a leering ape.
‘What do you think?’ Helen asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.
‘I’m not quite sure yet,’ said Neil. ‘I’m just wondering what else we’re going to find.’