The Paper Grail Read Online Free PDF

of Arimathea, the first of the so-called Fisher Kings, according to some of the Grail legends. The bundle included the two radii, recovered from beneath a church in Lithuania.
    Mrs. Lamey looked the document over. It was signed by four different people, the signatures unreadable and full of flourishes as if the document were intended to be framed and hung on thewall alongside spurious doctoral diplomas. “This is certainly worthless,” she said. “But then what isn’t? I have moderately sure methods of proving their authenticity. And I’m entirely certain that you wouldn’t defraud me, Reverend. You wouldn’t sell me a couple of old monkey arms, not at a hundred thousand dollars.” She paused and looked hard at him, waiting for his response.
    “No,” he said, as if surprised that she’d suggest such a thing. “Of course not. You have my word on it as well as this affidavit of authenticity.”
    She smiled at him and stood up, moving toward the door. “Keep the affidavit of authenticity,” she said. “Line the birdcage with it. Leave the bones in the safe for now. We’ll settle my account after my recovery. Any news of the Ruskin skeleton? I want him, too. All of him.”
    “No news at all. I’ve got feelers out, though. If it’s available, we’ll get it. You’ve got my solemn oath on that. My man in England has confirmed that the bones aren’t in Coniston.”
    “I don’t give a tinker’s damn what your man in England confirms. If the bones aren’t in Coniston, then they’ve got to be somewhere else. John Ruskin, for heaven’s sake. It’s not like the man was unknown. Don’t they keep track of the corpses of great thinkers and writers? I can’t believe they’d be so careless as to misplace such a thing.”
    The Reverend White shrugged. “It appears as if the bones were taken ages ago. Maybe he was never interred at all. My man can recover his flowered shroud, though, if that will be of any use to you. There was a claim made once that vines grew out of the shroud when it was sprinkled with holy water. If my man can recover it …”
    “Tell your man to recover his wits.”
    “I’ve got him pursuing the matter. As I said, you’ve got my solemn oath …”
    She interrupted him. “Your solemn oath. That’s very good. There’s no chance, is there, that the gentleman we spoke of has the skeleton? He might have had access to it, you know.”
    “In fact, I do know. I make it my business to know. Someone would have heard of such a thing. This gentleman you refer to is a noted lunatic, isn’t he?”
    “He’s very subtle. A deceptive man. It’s hard to say what he is.”
    “Well, he isn’t the owner of the Ruskin skeleton. I’ll make further inquiries, though, if you’re serious about this.”
    “I’ve never been more serious, I assure you. And I would be very disappointed if you had dealt with him instead of with me. Don’t play games with me.”
    “I’m impervious to games, I assure you.”
    “Then let’s get on with the afternoon’s business, shall we?”
    “Happily,” he said. “That’ll require a different coat, though.” He put the bones back into the wall safe, rehung the painting, and led the way back up the stairs to where, in the surgery, a gowned nurse was already laying out instruments.
    H OWARD turned down the gravel drive, which dipped steeply into the darkness of the woods. It must have been nearly impossible to navigate right after a heavy rain. As it was, the truck wheels spun a little in the gravel and the pickup wallowed from side to side, in and out of deep ruts. He crept along, taking it slow through the ghostly, overgrown cypress trees, which ended abruptly on the meadow’s edge, fifty yards or so from the cliff.
    There was the house itself, half cloaked in fog, the whole thing a beautiful driftwood gray, the color of the ocean, with moss growing between the stones and with the meadow wild around it. Howard was amazed at how clearly he remembered it—how