The Digger's Rest Read Online Free PDF Page A

Could you excuse us
again, please?”
    “ Yes, of course, Dr. Edgeworth,” Simon
replied, visibly deflated by again being excluded from the
mysterious goings on.
    “ But don’t go far, Simon. We may need
you again shortly. Oh, and one last thing. You have completed your
doctoral thesis, haven’t you?” Jack asked the young man.
    “ Yes, Dr. Edgeworth,” Simon replied,
confused about what his academic status had to do with anything
going on in the office that day, but pleased for the attention
nevertheless.
    “ Thank you then, again, my soon-to-be
Dr. Holly,” Jack said, nodding respectfully and smiling at the boy.
Both excited and perplexed by Jack’s acknowledgment, Simon
awkwardly left the room, accidentally banging his leg brace against
the door on his way out, a muffled clanking thud. He turned
back…red faced.
    “ Sorry, Dr. Edgeworth.”
    “ Not at all, my boy. It’s alright,”
Jack said, waving it off fondly.
    As soon as they were alone, Jack turned to
Mitch and motioned with his finger for him to take the helm at the
computer to start the slide show sent from London. The first image
was an aerial shot.
    “ Lord Neville Cotswold, a retired
colleague of mine from my old days at the British Museum, sent
these to me overnight. I’m sure you’ve studied his work,” Jack
said, looking seriously at Mitch who was bent over in his chair
examining the shot intently.
    “ Yes, of course. Lord Neville is a
giant in the field…like you are, but what is it?”
    Jack took the compliment in hand and
continued. “Well, he says it’s the ruins of a medieval castle that,
up until a few months ago, had been part of a private estate held
by an old, aristocratic family for the last five hundred years.
Apparently, when the last of the family line died recently, the
property was divided for easy sale. It seems that a fish cannery or
some such nonsense bought this portion and when they went in to
level the area to build a canning plant, they came across it.
Neville got wind of it from an old friend in the local historical
society and sent some of his men out from the museum to take some
photos. He seems to think, from what he’s seen that the ruins, in
his opinion, date from around the eleventh century and were
probably built as a local stronghold for one of William’s noblemen
to monitor control over the area. Oh, I forgot to say, it’s in the
West Country—Devonshire to be exact—not far outside of Exeter,
which you know is one of the oldest cities in England.” While he
was listening to Jack speak, Mitch got back up out of the chair,
went over to the image and leaned in closer.
    “ Do we have any clearer shots?” he
asked, fascinated.
    “ Hit the button and you tell me. I’m an
old man. I don’t know anything about these machines,” Jack said,
laughing to himself. Mitch tapped the mouse and the image changed
to what was clearly a telephoto lens close up of a portion of the
ruin area, then tapped the mouse again, another view, then another,
and another.
    “ Lord Neville must be slipping,” Mitch
said confidently. “This thing predates William by at least two
hundred years, maybe more. Look at the foundation. It was built
over later, of course, but the foundation is the key; may even have
Roman origins. I can’t really tell without seeing it in person, but
what’s left of the block work and the overall scheme of the
structure is older than William. No doubt in my mind.”
    “ Well, Lord Neville may be slipping,
but I’m not. I agree with you, so I bought it,” Jack said
proudly.
    “ You bought it?” Mitch asked, his
eyebrows rising with the pitch of his voice at the offhandedness of
Jack’s statement.
    “ Actually, I bought it on behalf of the
Museum,” Jack said, smiling to himself.
    “ But why?”
    “ Well, the tuna company was going to
bulldoze it and Neville couldn’t afford to buy it himself. That’s
why he called me; so I could have a shot at it before the National
Trust could get