The Shining Skull Read Online Free PDF Page B

brother, Mr Fallbrook. Where’s he been since
     1976? I presume you asked him.’
    ‘Yes. Of course I did.’
    ‘And what was the answer?’
    ‘He said he doesn’t remember much about the abduction. It’s all a haze. He vaguely remembers being with some sort of commune
     then he thinks he was taken away from them . . . ’
    ‘Officially? By social services?’
    ‘I don’t know. It was all very vague.’
    Heffernan and Wesley looked at each other. For an impostor vagueness was good . . . the vaguer the better.
    ‘He told me he had an accident fairly recently – he was knocked down by a car and he had concussion for a while. That’s when
     it started to come back to him. He started to remember Devon. Tradmouth. And the name Marcus Fallbrook. He came down here
     to try and put the pieces together. And he said that when he came to Tradmouth and took a boat on the river everything started
     to flood back. Just the bit before his abduction . . . what happened afterwards is still a blur at the moment.’
    ‘How old was he when he was abducted?’
    Adrian frowned. ‘About seven, I think.’
    ‘And is he calling himself Fallbrook?’
    ‘No, Jones. Mark Jones. My half-brother’s name was Marcus but it seems that he became known as Mark.’
    ‘You’re convinced he’s who he says he is, aren’t you?’ said Wesley gently.
    Gerry Heffernan sniffed. It all sounded suspicious to him. But then so did a lot of things. His years in the police force
     haddestroyed much of his faith in human nature. ‘So why has he waited so long before trying to find his family?’
    Adrian looked a little confused. ‘As I said, he didn’t remember. People block out traumatic events, don’t they? I suppose
     it took the accident to bring it all back. We didn’t talk for that long. I’m supposed to be getting in touch with him again
     and . . . ’
    ‘And you thought you’d just put us in the picture?’ Heffernan said, watching the man’s face.
    Adrian Fallbrook nodded. ‘To be honest I didn’t really know what to do. But as it’s connected with a crime – albeit an old
     one – I thought I’d better have a word with someone. He’ll be a witness to an unsolved crime, won’t he? Or . . . ’
    ‘Or if he’s an impostor, he’s committing one.’ In Gerry Heffernan’s opinion the man sitting there in front of him didn’t know
     what he believed.
    It was Wesley who spoke, the voice of reason. ‘Perhaps we’d better have a chat with this Mark Jones. If he was the victim
     of a kidnapping we’ll need to talk to him anyway. Kidnapping’s a serious offence. And if he won’t talk to us . . . ’
    ‘Then he’s probably an impostor.’ Adrian finished the sentence for him. ‘But how did he know about the house? The pianola?
     How did he . . .?’
    ‘There could be any number of explanations. Maybe he had a relative who worked for the family or . . . ’
    Adrian nodded. ‘Yes. We always had cleaners, nannies, gardeners and what have you. I suppose . . . ’
    ‘Just tell him we want a word. That should settle the matter once and for all,’ said Heffernan confidently. In his experience
     most villains never spoke to the police voluntarily.
    Adrian Fallbrook looked as though a weight had been taken from his shoulders. ‘Yes. I’ll do that. Thank you.’
    ‘And of course there’s one way to find out if he’s who he claims to be. Is he willing to take a DNA test?’
    Adrian considered the question for a moment. ‘I’ll ask him,’ he said before turning to go.
    ‘Nice to have a satisfied customer for a change,’ Heffernan whispered as Fallbrook disappeared down the corridor.
    Moving the dead is a delicate matter. And Neil Watson didn’t like it. He didn’t like the sight of the soil-covered coffins
     emerging fromthe ground. And he was in constant fear that the wood, having been under the damp Devon earth for so long, would disintegrate
     before his eyes, revealing the corpse within. The previous night he had