Free The Messiah Secret by James Becker

thing we need to find out is how this burglar – or whatever he is – is getting inside. God,’ she lowered her voice, ‘you don’t suppose he’s in the house now , do you?’
    Richard Mayhew shook his head. ‘No. But we have been leaving the front door open while we’ve been in here, so I suppose it is just possible somebody could have snuck in. We’d better keep it locked from now on.’
    Angela nodded decisively. ‘I also want a complete sweep of the entire house, right now, just in case there is anyone lurking in the cellar or attic or somewhere.’ She was aware of how fast her heart was beating and took some deep breaths. She had narrowly escaped death the last time she’d been away and didn’t want to take any chances here.
    ‘OK, OK,’ Mayhew agreed, with a heavy sigh. ‘As soon as we’ve finished lunch we’ll search the place from top to bottom. Will that do?’
    Ninety minutes later, hot and dusty from poking around at the top and bottom of the old house and everywhere in between, the team re-assembled somewhat grumpily in the kitchen. They’d found absolutely nothing to suggest that anybody else had been in the house recently, apart from anunfastened ground-floor window at the back of the house, which they’d now closed and locked, and which Angela had then jammed with a screw to ensure it couldn’t be opened from the outside.
    ‘Happy now?’ Richard Mayhew snapped.
    Angela sighed. She still felt very uneasy. ‘I’d rather be back in London, thank you. But at least now I’m sure that there isn’t someone watching us.’
    ‘OK, now that we’ve finally got that cleared up, let’s get some useful work done, shall we?’ Mayhew hurried out of the kitchen.
    Angela picked up another piece of china from the table to assess and catalogue. She had just opened up her laptop when she heard a startled gasp from David Hughes.
    ‘What is it?’ She spun round to look behind her.
    ‘I thought I saw something outside, some movement.’
    He strode across the kitchen to the window and stared through the somewhat grubby panes of glass at the unkempt grassland outside.
    Angela put down the china plate she’d been examining and stood up, joining him at the window moments later. The land in front of them sloped gently downwards, away from the house, dotted with clumps of shrubs and bushes, many of them easily big enough to conceal a person. And there was something else Angela noticed as well.
    ‘You might be right,’ she said slowly. ‘Every time I’ve looked out of this window since we got here, I’ve seen at least two or three rabbits hopping about out there. Rightnow, I don’t see any. Rabbits are extremely nervous animals. Because they’ve vanished, it could mean there is somebody out there.’ She shivered slightly. ‘God, I’ll be pleased when we’re finished and back in London. This place gives me the creeps.’

13
    Jonathan Carfax stared through a pair of compact binoculars as the last of the cars drove away from the front of Carfax Hall. He knew he was invisible to the museum people, because he was standing in the shelter of a group of trees just outside the boundary of the property, but with a clear view of the house.
    Earlier that afternoon, he’d crept closer to the house, approaching it from the rear and making use of the cover provided by various small groups of bushes, but he’d obviously been seen by somebody. As he’d moved towards the building, two faces had appeared at the kitchen window and looked out, but by that time he’d already run down the slope away from the house, and ducked down into a hollow behind a large rhododendron bush, where he’d lain and fumed. Jonathan was one of Oliver’s cousins, and like the rest of his family had only recently discovered that he’d been disinherited. Well, he’d told himself, as hebecame gradually colder and damper, he was going to do something about that.
    Fifteen minutes later, he’d finally eased up into a crouch and then