Cuthbert's Way (DCI Ryan Mysteries, #17)(19)

“Down in Jarrow?” Phillips piped up, glad to be learning something new about his local heritage. “They made that little book?”

“Yep, the current thinking is that they made the gospel book as an offering to Cuthbert, to be placed inside his coffin. That’s why it’s known as St. Cuthbert’s Gospel, even though the text is from St. John.”

“Anna would be impressed with all of this,” Ryan said, thinking of his wife, who was a leading local historian and fountain of knowledge about all manner of things. “Where’s the book now?”

“The British Library bought it from Stonyhurst for a cool twelve million back in 2012,” Lowerson said, and couldn’t help thinking it should have been donated to the library for free, as a public artefact of national importance. “Anyway, the book spends half of its time in Durham and half at the British Library in London, under lock and key.”

Ryan perked up at that. “Where, in Durham? We could take a look—”

But Lowerson shook his head. “At the moment, it’s in London.”

“It doesn’t matter either way, does it?” MacKenzie observed. “If we’re dealing with people who aren’t afraid of large-scale heists, it wouldn’t matter to them whether the book was in Durham or London—if they wanted to steal it, they’d find a way.”

Ryan agreed, and was about to say as much when they were interrupted by the sound of his mobile phone trilling out a rendition of Eye of the Tiger.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and started slapping his pockets to find the offending block of plastic.

He caught it on the last ring.

“Ryan.”

The others watched his face slowly alter, his eyes turning cool and detached as he listened to the caller at the other end.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said eventually, and ended the call looking thoughtful.

“Well?” Phillips asked the question on all their lips. “Howay then—who’s died?”

“A monk,” Ryan said, and the light of battle began to shine once more in his bold blue eyes. “He’s been found dead—tortured, they think, in a similar way to Edward Faber. The SIO wants us to go down there and see if it’s the same.”

“A monk,” MacKenzie murmured. “Seems an unusual choice of victim.”

“One who happens to be a leading authority on Saint Cuthbert,” Ryan added, after a quick online search. “Now, isn’t that—"

“A coincidence?” Yates said, teasingly.

Ryan smiled, and they already knew what he would say.

“There’s no such thing.”





CHAPTER 9


Phillips popped a handful of mixed nuts into his mouth, telling himself they were better than beefy Hula-Hoops, in many ways.

Many, many ways.

He didn’t know what those ways were, yet, but that was beside the point.

Stuffing the offending packet of bird food back in his pocket, he looked over at Ryan and thought he bore the look of a man who needed more than a packet of crisps to see him through the rest of the day.

“If you want a break, I can take over the driving?”

Ryan laughed shortly. “Frank, if we want to get down to Yorkshire and back before midnight, it’s best if I handle the driving.”

“Y’ nah, between you and Denise, I get nowt but cheek over my driving skills,” Phillips muttered, and crossed his arms over his paunch. “I always get us there safely, and in one piece.”

“As do I,” Ryan said. “The only difference is, I don’t drive like I’ve got Miss Daisy in the back seat.”

Phillips let out a rumbling chuckle. “Aye, you’ve got a littlun’ now,” he said. “How’s she doing? Missin’ her Uncle Frank, I s’pose.”

He watched the Ryan’s face soften, and was glad to see it. The man might have been his professional senior, but Ryan was a few years younger than himself in age and, from time to time, it showed. Phillips had never wished to step into any fatherly shoes, especially since Ryan had a perfectly decent father of his own; all the same, he felt something like a father’s pride when he saw his friend smile, for there was a time when that was a rare thing indeed. Maxwell Finley-Ryan, who preferred ‘Ryan’ at all times, was a stoic man with broad shoulders, a compassionate leader in the office, a loyal friend, loving husband and, now, a doting father. It took energy and commitment to become all of those things, and even more to remain so. Over the years, life had thrown a few curve balls that might have derailed the happiness Ryan now enjoyed and, amid the grief following the death of his sister, Natalie, he might have become a bitter cynic, unable to love or be loved in return.

But he’d chosen a different path.

“Frank, I can honestly say, I never thought I could love another being in this world as much as I love Anna,” Ryan said. “I didn’t think I’d have the capacity…but I was wrong about that. It feels as though my heart’s expanded for Emma, and I have the same amount of love to give her, all over again.”

Phillips put a hand briefly on the other man’s shoulder as they watched the road ahead.

“Aye, it takes you by surprise, doesn’t it?” he said softly. “After my Laura passed, I never thought I could feel the same way again—then, along came Denise. Then, just as I’m getting used to a new life, trying my best to keep up with her, along comes Samantha to shake us both up again.”