Free The Grave Tattoo by Val McDermid Page B

Museum and one of them contains the entry: “Adventures of Christian, the mutineer”. The same notebook he was using during the period when he composed The Ancient Mariner. And when you read the poem in that light, it’s not hard to spot links to the Bounty’s voyage.’
‘Such as?’
‘The terrible storms they endured going round the Cape. The way they were driven south towards the ice before making it through into the South Seas. And the albatross. It’s a matter of record that the Bounty’s crew shot and ate albatross during their voyage. As far as I know, there was no superstition attached to killing those particular birds at that time. But for his poem to work, Coleridge had to invent a metaphor for sin. And killing a beautiful wandering bird suited his romantic soul right down to the ground.’ Jane’s hands wove a sensuous pattern in the air as she described the bird. ‘However, what we also know from contemporaneous accounts is that it was Wordsworth who came up with the idea of the albatross on one of their walks together. I don’t think it’s reaching to suggest that the notion had already been planted in his mind by what he knew of the Bounty.’
Professor Elliott shook her head. ‘Your timing’s wrong, surely. Coleridge was working on The Ancient Mariner when he and Wordsworth were in Dorset. It’s much too early for Fletcher Christian to have been back in England. And certainly there’s no reason to suppose he was in Dorset.’
Jane nodded. ‘I’m not suggesting Wordsworth knew the story at first hand from Fletcher at that point. But I think it’s indicative of an existing interest in the mutiny. And in Edward Christian he had the perfect source to satisfy his curiosity. Edward would almost certainly have heard about the killing of the albatross from the mutineers who were brought back or from Bligh’s accounts. It’s exactly the sort of detail that would have struck Wordsworth. And if William had already shown an interest in the mutiny, all the more reason why Edward would send Fletcher to him when he finally came home.’
Professor Elliott gave a smile that was hard not to take as condescension. ‘That is even more tenuous a theory than this putative concatenation of body and letter. What leads you to the belief that there is some urgency attached to the exegesis of the letter?’
In the three hours since she had left Dan, Jane had taken the opportunity to marshal her arguments. ‘It’s not just the body that makes the matter more urgent. The Jerwood Centre is about to open at the Wordsworth Trust. Sooner rather than later, every scrap of paper in that archive is going to be scrutinised, and it’s likely that whoever comes across that letter from Mary will know enough about what they’re looking at to realise it needs to be followed up. I found that letter. I want to be the one who gets on the trail of whatever it means.’
Professor Elliott sighed. ‘This can scarcely be news to you, Jane. You say you encountered this letter a year ago. Why did you not pursue it earlier? During the long vacation, say? Why wait till term has begun and you have a teaching load?’
Jane could feel anger rising and tried to keep her voice level. ‘Maggie, it may have escaped your notice, but I don’t earn enough from my teaching here to support myself. I spent a large part of the summer working behind a bar and the rest of it trying to turn my thesis into a book for which I have miraculously got a publishing contract. But even supposing I had had the time to follow this up, much of the Wordsworth archive has been inaccessible because of the renovations and building work. I couldn’t have done anything about it even if I had wanted to. Yes, the body does add urgency in my mind, but it’s far from the only consideration.’
Her department head smiled, this time without any air of patronage. ‘I do appreciate that, Jane. Believe me, if I could find a way to pay you and your fellow teaching assistants