Date: Sat, 14 Mar 2009 23:01:24 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's Sequel 5

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
				 A Sequel

				    by

				   Joel

          Seq. 5:

             Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:
Mark Henry Foster           The story-teller:  Pennefather Organ Scholar
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams  His well-proportioned boyfriend.  At College of Law.
Francis Michael Foster     Alias Toad/Gobbo   Mark's younger brother
Jack Goodman                  Frankie's bosom pal
James Bowes-Chesterton  Frankie's pal Bozo
Patrick Montgomery         Frankie's pal Moggo
Anthony Pugsley               Shelley's ardent boyfriend [Puggo/Pugsy]
Gregory Parks                   Bozo's friend [Harpo]
Liam Moore                      A Lodge Boy, Porter-to-be
Sean O'Malley                   Servery Lad and Lodge Boy
Curt Stein                           Servery Lad and cute with it
Logan Henderson               An engineering student
Raphael Pack                     An Aussie blond bombshell
Gabriel Pack                     Raphael's elder brother: At St Mark's


			      Christmas 2003

			  Wednesday 24th December

			     Seven-thirty a.m.

     "Good on ya, mate!"

     What on earth was an Aussie voice doing in my dream.  A dream I
immediately forgot as my eyes opened blearily in a lighted bedroom.  Had we
left the light on the night before?

     "Christ, mate, ya don't half take a time ta wake!"

     I focussed on quite a sight.  A navel, below which was a tailored bush
of brown pubic hair, a lengthy cock and balls dangling and swinging gently
as the body above bent forward.

     "Fuck me!  Don't you want a nice mug a mornin' coffee?"

     Oh God!  I'd forgotten our overnight guest.  I managed a smile.
"Thanks, Raph.  It takes me a time to wake up."  I struggled up the bed,
slightly displacing the gently snoring body next to me.  Tris was still
sound asleep.  Raphael handed me the mug and I took a sip.  It was proper
coffee.  He must have found the cafetiere.

     Raph chuckled.  "Proper bloody pair of babes in the wood.  Wished I
had a camera when I first put the light on."

     "Have you got some?"  I held the mug up.  He nodded.  "Go and get it,"
I said, "I'll shift the lump a bit more."

     I knew from experience that it was simple to get my rightful share of
the bed when Tris was asleep.  I just edged him a bit more using my thigh
against his back and he shifted as he always did.  This time more onto his
side of the bed.  Raph was back.  I held the duvet up.

     "Come and join us.  Don't want you to get cold and shrivel."

     "Bloody hell, the place is nice and warm."

     Notwithstanding that he got in beside me and we sat up side by side
supping our coffee.  There had been something I'd noticed as well as the
nice set of genital equipment.

     "How is it you've still got a tan?"  I asked.  I knew it was almost
allover from the time we'd had that great shared intimacy.  "And no tan
line now?"  His 'budgie smugglers' had left a definite lighter area
earlier.

     He chuckled again.  "Don't tell bloody Gabe, promise?"  I nodded.
"Been to that bloody tanning shop to keep it topped up and the woman there
said I could do an allover if I wanted.  I think she wanted a bit of
allover as well but I wasn't interested."  He poked me in the side. "Told
her I was the other way and she said it was a great loss to womankind!"  I
got another poke in the ribs.  "She kept peeking in that first time to see
if I was OK and I gave her a full sight of me bits but I wasn't even half
hard so she's left me alone since then."

     "Not at all interested?"  I asked, wondering if Raph had made a
conscious step.

     "Don't know," he said, rather pensively, I thought.  There was a pause
as we both drained our mugs.  He took them and put them on the bedside
cabinet. "Seeing all those blokes at the Club.  Can't keep me eyes off 'em.
I don't know if I should give it a proper try.  Trouble is."  He shook his
head.  "I look at you and Tris but could I meet someone I could trust as
well as love.  I've had women and it's just been getting me rocks off.
Quick fuck and good bye.  Blokes same."  He shook his head.  "Not that time
with you.  I thought..."

     "...That time with me was love and trust," I said, "You needed someone
and I was willing and ready."  I nodded.  "But we both knew.  At least I
did..."  I sniffed.  "...Tris is my rock.  Bloody Lady Di used that term
but I mean it!"  I put an arm out and put it around his shoulder.
Automatically he did the same and we hugged.  "You'll find someone I'm
sure.  No one couldn't love you, Raph.  I know Curt adores you."  He nodded
and sniffed as well.  "He's got Logan now.  Is there anyone?"

     A low voice cut in on us.  I hadn't realised but Tris was awake.  His
steady quiet breathing had fooled me.

     "Raph, take it from me.  When you meet the right person you'll know.
What about at Hills Road.  Any of the girls?"

     He shook his head against me.  "Nah.  There're one or two I could
fancy but they're snaffled already.  I may look a bloody jock but it
doesn't mean they fall at my bloody feet.  There is one.  Marcia.  But
she's got this right computer nerd who's about five foot six.  Must be hung
like a bloody donkey!"  He paused.  "No.  He's a bonza bloke.  Helped me
with an assignment.  She's doing Economics like me.  Then there's Terri in
our group and she's got snaffled by this skinny kid who looks about sixteen
but plays the guitar.  She sings in his group."

     "Any blokes?" Tris asked, still from his recumbent position.

     "I could fancy a couple in our gym club there.  One's a big blond like
me.  We spot each other on the weights and he's always sizing me up.  Can't
tell.  And the other one they call Hairy Monkey.  He's Hungarian and has
muscles everywhere.  Great smile.  He's got a handicapped brother.  Pushes
him from class to class in his wheelchair.  Nice kid.  Had an accident.
I've looked after him a time or two.  He's good at maths."

     "Either of them got girlfriends?"  Tris asked.

     "Don't think so.  Haven't seen them with anyone.  I suppose Hary has
to look after his brother."

     "Hary?  As in Hary Janos?" I asked.  Oh God, showing off my knowledge.
But, no!

     "Too true," said Raph, relaxing the hug.  "His Ma's a music teacher
and he said it's better than Taras Bulba!"

     "Different composer," I said.

     "Back to basics," said Tris, interrupting the show of erudition.
"Have you had any other indication of any interest?

     There was slight pause as if Raph was gathering his thoughts.

     "Maybe."

     "Hary?"

     "Yep."

     "Why don't you invite them for a drink.  Both together.  Might get
some reaction," Tris said.  "You might be able to gauge the level of
interest."

     "What about Franz?"

     "That the brother?" I asked.

     "Yep.  Can't you guess?"

     "Oh, yes," I said, "And Tris knows that one as well!  But, how old is
Franz?"

     "He's just over sixteen.  And the other two are both over eighteen.
We're doing the bloody A Levels this year."

     "Do you have our licensing laws sussed?" asked Tris.  "You three can
drink alcohol, but if you take Franz you must have something to eat and
best for him to have non-alcoholic.  Landlords can be fussy."

     "Franz wants to come here," said Raph.  "As I said he's good at maths
and the tutor's told him to apply here."

     "What about Hary?" I asked.

     "He's coming here anyway.  Modern Languages.  Hungarian and French."

     "And you?  Have you heard yet?"

     "Beginning of January.  But I don't know..."  He petered out sounding
a bit anxious.

     "You are a right Muppet!  You know Gabe's here so the chances are very
high," said Tris.  "All sorted.  Big Bonce here will invite you all to have
a look at the spacious accommodation allocated to the bright and beautiful
and Charles will conduct you on a round of the hovels assigned to the
less-favoured and, importantly, make it a weekend when I can get away from
my chores in London and I'll decide if you pounce on Hary or the un-named
blond."

     With that he launched himself upwards, grabbed Raph, hugged him and
gave him a smacker of a kiss.  A startled Raph fell against me as Tris let
go and burrowed down again under the duvet.  "You can go and get my mug of
coffee now, laddie.  All's sorted as I've told you.  Come on!  Chop!
Chop!"

     I grinned at Raph.  He'd better get more used to British humour I
thought.  But, no, he'd got the hang of it.

     As he got out of bed his nose curled just like Toad's.  "I'll fuckin'
piss in it," he said sotto voce.

     "I heard that," said Tris, "And I'll make you taste it first, you
lovely creature!"

     Two fingers and a good sneer were the reply to that.

     While he was out in the kitchen I had a quiet word in Tris's ear.
"He's got the hots for Hary I would say."

     "My sentiments exactly, duckie.  Now get down here and give me a
morning cuddle and kiss!"

     The next thing I knew was a voice from the side of the bed.  "Bloody
hell, can any fucker join in?"

     Luckily Raph had put the mug down on the cabinet as two, now warmed up
and slightly sweaty monsters, grabbed him and bundled him into the bed
between us.  Luckily also there were no neighbours as the shrieks and
shouts which he produced as we tickled him, held him, felt him all over,
kissed him, licked him and gently nibbled various parts of his anatomy
which came into range, were slightly horrendous.  Finally, Tris must have
held onto the rampant erection which had developed very quickly under the
onslaught and Raph sprayed all three of us with a shower of warm boyjuice.
By now he was breathing so heavily he just about managed to gasp out "Oh
fuck! Oh fuck! fuck!  fuck!  I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!..." until
we managed to silence him with our own shower, but of kisses and hugs,
with, "OK, OK, it's alright..." from me and a gentle,"OK, just calm
down..." from Tris.

     He calmed down and was lying flat out with us two looking down on him.
Yep, he was a hunk, a healthy hunk and an adorable hunk.  If Hary was
susceptible, and he was as Raph had described, it would be quite a match.

     Raph screwed his eyes up.  A tiny tear appeared.  Tris bent down and
gently licked it away.  "Come on, Raph," he said, "Don't be sad."

     "I'm not, really," whispered Raph.  He opened his eyes gradually and
looked from one to the other of us.  "But you've got each other... ..and I
haven't got anybody."

     Tris reached out and caressed his cheek.  "You're only eighteen,
you'll find somebody, you've got time."

     We both put our arms round him and gave him a gentle hug.

     "You lie here with Mark.  I'll get up as I've promised to be at the
office by nine.  Don't worry, I'll get some breakfast for you."

     When I heard him leave the bathroom I left off cuddling Raph and said
he could have a shower before me.  He kissed my ear as he got out of bed.
"Thanks for everything.  I've never forgotten that night..."

     He wasn't long in the bathroom and when I appeared in the kitchen the
pair of them were devouring cereals while a delicious smell of bacon and
sausage came from the oven.

     We parted well before nine.  Raph said he'd be back, ready by five.  I
went to the Chapel and practised carefully.  Three hours.  I thought with
all that I should know the pieces well enough and I'd sight-read from the
stack of old copies on the shelves as well.  I turned everything off and
went down into the Chapel.  Curt and Logan were sitting there.  They were
all smiles.

     "We only heard that last bit you played," Curt said, "Cheffie's sent
you over this."

     'This' was a covered tray.  Two plates of very artistically displayed
ham salad.  Just the thing for a cold day!... ..But... It was the thought
that counted.

     "Please thank him," I said as I put the covers back.  "New Year, I
won't be back until just after term starts as I am taking that organ exam
in London, so I'll see you then."  I smiled at the silent Logan.  "Have a
good time, especially tonight, pity we've got to miss it.  Give my love to
Shawn!  And keep him in order!"  This last pointing at the grinning Curt.

     Logan shook his head.  "The wee bugger's no controllable.  I'll try ma
best!"

     The wee bugger stuck his tongue out at him.  "Come on gorgeous,
Cheffie's got a nice hot lunch for us."  He turned and winked at me.
"Gotta keep his strength up, poor old thing."

     Logan cracked a smile and exhaled.  "Just wait!  I owe you a wee
skelping already."

     "Ready and waiting."  He glanced at his watch.  "Come on or Cheffie'll
get there before you!"  He grabbed Logan's arm and hurried him out of the
Chapel but as they reached the door he turned and blew me a kiss.  Logan
shrugged his shoulders and they went off looking so happy.  If only Raph...

     I'd done another maths problem by the time Tris came back just on one
o'clock.  He was happy too.  At least that's how I interpreted the rather
tuneless whistle I heard before I came out of my study.

     "Been busy?" Tris asked.  I nodded.

     "And how was your first client?"

     He was happy.  "Most interesting.  Jacob was so kind and helpful.
He's given Jerzy a letter for the landlord asking him to let Jacob see any
agreement.  He's also done one for the Bursar of Trinity Hall as well to
tell him what's happened.  Trouble is, the College is virtually closed
until New Year.  Jerzy's a very nice bloke and he comes from a very
academic family.  In fact, his father's a Prof at their main university.  I
think he said in Maths."  As we went into the kitchen he continued.
"There's more, too.  Your Uncle's very pleased how things are going and he
wants an office set up by September.  He's planning a big launch over here
for October so there's a lot to do.  He's appointed Jacob and Paul's firm
as the solicitors in charge and Dad's been retained to give Counsel's
opinion on any matters that come up."

     "And you?"

     He smiled.  "I think I'll be involved if I make it."

     "You will!"  I turned and hugged him.

     We cleared up a bit but Sean and Liam were going to do their usual
mammoth tidy and clothes wash for us.  Two twenty pound notes were left for
each.  We surveyed the bags and packages to be taken home and hoped we
could get all on the bus later.  As we left the College to go to King's we
went to the Porter's Lodge where I left a parcel for Jason and the
elaborately wrapped box for Old Albert which Charles had entrusted us to
deliver.  He wasn't in the Porter's Lodge.  The assistant porter on duty
said Mr Tomkins was having a little light refreshment with a couple of
porters from other colleges.  As he raised his arm and tipped his hand we
knew what 'light refreshment' entailed.

     I hadn't experienced the Nine Lessons and Carols at King's as a member
of the congregation before.  I'd heard the broadcast every year but this
was the real thing.  The tickets Safar had given us meant we were shown to
places near the choir.  Reserved places.  I revelled in the glorious sounds
right from the organ pieces as we entered and that ethereal moment when a
single boy's voice starts the opening of 'Once in Royal David's City'
through to the tremendous pealing of the organ, Bach and Messiaen of
course, when the service finished.  What a marvellous beginning to
Christmas!

     As we exited from the side door of King's and went across and out of
the gate we came across a forlorn figure standing on the pavement at the
entrance to Trinity Hall with bags at his feet.  It was Jerzy.  Tris strode
up to him.

     "What's the matter?  What's happened?" he asked.

     Jerzy turned on him angrily.  "That old man's turned me out.  He read
your letter and he told me to go!  I have nowhere to go!"

     "He can't do that!" said Tris.

     "He has!  And it's your fault!!" came the anguished reply.

     "Wait!" said Tris.  He fumbled in a pocket and got out his mobile
phone.  "We'll sort this out."

     He muttered to me he was phoning Jacob and he hoped he was home.  He
was.  Tris explained what had happened.  He handed the phone to Jerzy, who
had calmed down a bit by then.  He looked somewhat mollified by whatever
Jacob had said and handed the phone back to Tris.  Tris listened and
nodded.

     "OK, Jerzy," Tris said and smiled.  "I was going to get you a hotel
but Mr Van Zyl says we are to put you in a taxi and you can stay with him
and Mr Phillips over Christmas and he'll sort things out for you."

     "I can't!" Jerzy began, "He doesn't know me..."

     "...Mr Van Zyl is a very good judge of character and if he says you
are invited he means it.  And you will be very welcome.  Come on, grab your
bags, we'll find you a taxi by the end of Magdalene bridge."

     "But I can't..." he began again.

     "Yes you can!" Tris said giving me one of his bags and picking up one
of Jerzy's.  "Come on and we'll tell you something about who you'll be
meeting."

     Very carefully Tris explained about the set-up.  Three gay men and
Barry their general factotum and chef.  I added that Professor Tanner was
my Maths tutor and I would phone him tonight.  I think Jerzy was in rather
a daze when we bundled him and his belongings into the cab and gave the
cabbie the address and a ten pound note.

     As the cab trundled off I looked at Tris.  "Phew!" he breathed out.
"I just hope I've done the right thing.  I nearly suggested we took him
home with us..."

     "...We probably should have," I said, contemplating how another body
would have had to be accommodated.  No room at the inn?  No, a tight
squeeze, perhaps!

     I couldn't stop thinking of Jerzy and his banishment and the kindness
of Jacob.  I hoped things would work out as we gathered up our stuff from
my set.  A note on the door said that Raph would be at the bus station.
Raph was there waiting for us, complete with bags and tickets, so all that
part was OK.  We told him what had happened.  He was concerned as well.
After we'd been on the bus some time and were approaching London I phoned
James Tanner.  He laughed when I said we'd lumbered him and the others.  He
said they'd taken to Jerzy straight away and he and Barry were bunking in
together.  Very quietly, so as not to alarm fellow passengers who might be
earwigging, I said did he realise...  I got no further as he laughed again
and said 'Gaydar' and that no one would come to any harm.  In fact, Barry
and Jerzy were at that moment discussing a television adaptation of 'The
Prisoner of Zenda' which Barry's father had appeared in and Jerzy had seen
on their TV in Rothenia.  In fact, they were so engrossed the others didn't
know what time they would be getting food!  His parting words were don't
forget to do a little bit of work over the vacation because that was what
vacations were for and best of luck for the exam.  I must say I felt a bit
better after that.

     By the time we got home I was starving.  Dad was out fiddling, Mum was
singing in a Christmas Eve concert and Gran had gone with her, Toad
announced all this as he opened the door, and where were his presents?
This before acknowledging our guest who would be sharing his bed.  Luckily,
Auntie Dil had supper ready for us at their house so after depositing
Raph's bags and threatening Toad with reprisals if he caused mayhem we went
next door to Tris's.  We were introduced to his Uncle and Aunt and the two
small girls dressed in very smart frocks.  Shelley was there, sans Pugsy,
and the way she eyed up Raph I thought she was about to drag him off to her
room to rape him.  'Watch it, Pugsy!'  I thought.  But no, the sexual
moment passed and she, Toad and Raph were soon discussing the relative
merits of skateboarding and surfing, as well as stuffing a most wholesome
casserole down their hungry throats.  Shelley and surfing? All became clear
as I stuffed, too. Apparently, her friend Camilla's elder brother had spent
the summer glued to a surfboard somewhere in Cornwall.

     There was much to chat about.  Tris was telling his father about the
office and Jerzy's problem.  Tris's Uncle and Aunt wanted to know about
life in Cambridge now.  Both had been there as students, she at Girton and
he at Gonville and Caius.  The two girls were staring rather round-eyed at
Raphael.  Auntie Dil at some point said that Adam had stayed at ours the
night before on his way from Ulvescott to Dorset.  I assumed he must have
slept in my bed and just wondered what might be left behind.

     This was revealed twofold as I hurriedly got ready to leave for the
Midnight Mass later.  Toad came bowling into my bedroom where Tris and I
were getting out warm clothes as the church was likely to be chilly.  I had
already raised the duvet to check and removed three artfully cut pieces of
white paper each labelled 'too tired for the usual but this would have been
an indication of amount'.  "Verbose, just like Adam," said Tris.

     "What's that?" asked Toad as I screwed up the pieces.

     "A little tired joke of your cousin's," I said as he thrust an
envelope at me.

     "This is important," he said, "A letter from the Colonel, Adam said.
To be handed personally to you and Tris.  What's in it?"

     It was a very posh envelope.  Heavy paper.  An embossed monogram of
some sort on the back.  It was addressed to both of us.  'Mark Foster and
Tristan Price-Williams' with the addition 'Private and Confidential'
underneath.  I glanced at my watch.  The letter would have to wait.
"Later," I said and ushered the pair out and instructed Toad to gather up
Raph.

     Actually, we got to the church in good time.  I hurriedly donned gown
and hood in the vestry, as did Toad, and we went up into the organ loft to
join Mr Prentice.  "You two can do the lot," he said after greeting us,
"I'll go down and conduct."  Luckily Toad had made notes from the last
choir practice so all went well.  I had peered over the rail and saw Tris
in the choir with his furry BA hood over his surplice and spotted Raph with
the others of the Price-Williams family and Mum and Gran.

     When we got back home the two families parted, except that Tris came
in with us.  Of course, Gran wanted to hear news over tea, gins and tonic
or martinis, but after Dad appeared looking tired bedtime was announced.
The letter would have to wait until morning.


               December 25th: Christmas Day

     You would think that a creature of eighteen would have got over the
excitement of waking up early on Christmas morning.  Not Toad.  It was half
past seven when the door opened and the creature bounded in.  Both Tris and
I got hefty wallops on our backsides, luckily shielded by the duvet.

     "What the fuck!" was Tris's wakening cry.

     "Language, brother-in-law!" came the cheerful tones, "I want to know
what's in that letter!"

     So it wasn't his presents he was after.  Anyway, everything in that
line was deposited downstairs.

     Shaking my bleary head I focussed on Frankie.  At least he was decent
enough to be wearing a pair of boxers.  OK, those black silk boxers he'd
appropriated of mine.

     "Where's Raph?" I asked.

     "Still asleep and before you ask nothing happened.  Come on, where's
the letter?"

     OK, OK, we all needed to know.  I crawled out of bed.  No boxers.
Toad smirked.  Tris said he wanted to pee first.  A second hard look and
smirk as he exited.  No boxers.  I retrieved the letter from the inside
pocket of my jacket hanging in the wardrobe.  We waited until Tris
returned.  Toad had another look.  Tris looked at me and nodded.  Six foot
of smirk was pushed back over the bed and boxers were removed.  He
protested with a couple of squeals which were silenced by me putting my
hand over his mouth disregarding the danger of being bitten and the onset
of rabies.

     "The boy may soon be entering puberty," said Tris in a grave voice,
"Development so far retarded in my opinion.  Typical of the average
ten-year-old.  Better give him a lecture on the birds and the bees..."

     "Bollocks!" said Frankie struggling to get upright.

     "Yes," said Tris, "They should drop soon."

     As Frankie stood between us it was more than evident he was fully
developed.  In fact, the three of us, I thought, were a good demonstration
of the phrase 'well-hung'.  But back to the important matter of the moment.

     "Come over to the desk," I said, "I'll open it there."

     Frankie was too intrigued to make any remarks on Tris's comments.  I
guessed retribution might follow later.  He picked up a silver letter
opener I'd bought in a charity shop when hunting down detective novels and
handed it to me.  Oh so politely.  I slit the envelope and took out three
pages.  Two were a handwritten letter, the third a typescript.  I laid them
on the desk and flattened them out.

     The heading was quite plain, just the Ulvescott Manor address with the
date, then:

     'Dear Mark and Tristan,
                         Thank you for telling me about the occurrences at
St Mark's and at the hotel.  I would appreciate it if the following is kept
to those involved although Mrs Moore and her son will be informed when
further matters are cleared.  I was most impressed by the succinct way in
which Liam gave me the information.

                          In brief.  The man seen talking to the reporter
is well-known to me in a previous life, as it were.  Although Rothenian he
comes from the German speaking area and during the Cold War joined the East
German secret police, known as the STASI.  Like most of his ilk when the
wall came down he disappeared from sight.  However, he has been identified
as selling himself to more than one unsavoury regime over the years and was
recently intimately involved in the counter movement during the struggle
for the monarchy in Rothenia and the accession of King Rudolf.  As you
probably know, the king is a student at Oxford at present and he will be
kept informed of any developments.

                          It would seem that Mr X (he has several
pseudonyms!) has been doing some sort of research in libraries in Cambridge
colleges.  The pieces of paper retrieved by Mrs Moore have been translated
as far as possible and the transcript is enclosed.  At present the context
is puzzling.  There is a reference to a place and to something lost.  The
reference to Ivo Carr is a note to watch him, I assume as he is now at our
Legation in Strelzen.  Anyway, a further search of the hotel has produced
little more, just burnt paper and a few scraps awaiting examination.  I
have asked an old friend to comment if possible.  He was at the wedding and
taught Ivo Rothenian.  Any views would be welcome!  Mr X has again
disappeared but I am sure he will turn up like the proverbial bad penny.

                         I don't need to tell you that Rothenia has had a
very chequered history and there are plenty of rumours about strange
happenings and hidden things.  Perhaps, something like your own College.

                         I was very pleased to have made your acquaintance
again last Saturday and look forward to Burns Night.  All here send their
best wishes as well.  I hope any damage done to your dear brother's body or
dignity by Dr Thomson or myself will be assuaged by the knowledge that the
postcard is affixed to my bedroom wall and I smile at it each time I pass.
Tell him his blithe spirit reminds me so much of my dear brother and that
encounter in the cellars will remain a treasured memory.  To you, Mark at
the organ and Tristan in the choir, we all owe a tremendous gratitude for
the wonderful music during the service.  Again, a treasured memory.

                         With all best wishes,

                         Lachlan Cameron-Thomson'

     There was a low whistle from Frankie as he reached the end of the
letter.  There was no funny aside about him being mentioned.  In fact, all
three of us were scanning the letter again to take in the import of the
contents.

     "It would seem there are mysteries in Rothenia," Tristan said.  "I
read an article somewhere about how some ancient crown was found and how
this lad at an English Public School became king."

     "Yep," I said, "I read it, too.  Struck by the lovely name, Crown of
Tassilo, I think.  And it said the lad was part English and part
Rothenian."

     "Perhaps he'd like a visit to the cellars," said Frankie.  Toad was
back.  "I could give him a signed postcard.  And when's the Duke coming
again to see it now it's finished?  I'll have to keep a supply!  Perhaps
between them I could get a knighthood.  One up on Uncle Aldo!"

     "Shut up, pest, before I damage your body!" said Tristan, "Let's have
a look at the transcript."

     A slight sneer.  I reached past him and placed the transcript in the
centre.

     It looked like notes but sentences were incomplete and there were
comments inked in at the side.


               1.
     '....taken from the tomb of....
      ....decoration is quite distinctive...
      ....three rods and a death's....
      ....four locks....
              ....exegi monumentum aere.....  [Probably: a monument built
more lasting than
      brass]*
      ...inscription needs to be....
      ....Latin in ????....  [Last wording may be 'old document']
      ....Zenden.  [Usually Zenda in English]
      ....contents missing according to....'

     Note: * The quote is from Horace and ends with 'perennius'

               2.
     '....bertus Ver....  [Unknown reference at present.  Being checked.]
      ....Thuring....  [Probably Thuringia: adjoining German state to
Rothenia]
      ....mausoleum....
      ....eopol???....  [Suggest Leopold]
      ....by the right....
      ....Wald....  [German: wood/forest]
      ....village....'

               3a.
     '....????????Wilde???....
      ....must be in college vault....
      ....not willing to take....
      ....other pressure needed....
      ....taken under protest....
      ....records ???? German?...'  [Could be reference to East Germany]

               3b.
     '....wedding Saturday....
      ....Ivo Carr and Victoria....
      ....British Legation at....
      ....instruction to watch no contact....'


     "Not much to go on there," said Tris, "But there might be more if they
have a go at the other bits they've found."

     "There are clues," I said, "It's like a detective story puzzle."

     "Trust you to say that!" said Frankie, "But even I can tell you it's
quite clear."

     "Go on," said Tris, "Put it all together for us."

     "OK, I guess someone at sometime hid something valuable.  My opinion
is that it's something old and there's a building.  Could be a mausoleum
with an inscription and if you can decode it, or unlock it, you find
whatever.  Just like you and Marky.  This bloke, Mr X, has been looking for
anything to do with Rothenia and its history and where better than some
musty old college library where someone in the past had visited the place
or done a history and, perhaps, stumbled on something without knowing,...."

     "...But, Mr X hasn't got everything because someone was not willing to
let him into a college archive." I said.  "A very good analysis, young
man!"  I patted Frankie on his back.  "And I bet the Foreign Office, or
whatever, will place it on the back burner so as not to rock any boats."

     "Yep, Frankie, I agree, you've probably got something there.  Look for
Bertie and Leopold and Oscar Wilde," said Tris.

     "Bertie?" queried Frankie.

     "That bit about 'bertus'.  Could be a Latin name.  You know, an old
saint like Cuthbertus, or an old king like Ethelbertus."

     "Yep, and probably a Leopold," said Frankie nodding. "But why Oscar
Wilde?"

     "Don't know.  Just a thought."

     "Who do we know who might be up on Rothenian history?" I said
stupidly, realising straightaway that Adam was on tap.  "Sorry, not
thinking straight.  Adam!  He must have covered that bit of Europe as he
had that huge map up in his bedroom covered in pins.  And he delivered the
envelope so I bet he knows about it.  I'll phone him and say thanks for
it..."

     "...But, in case he doesn't know," said Tris.

     "I bet he does," said Frankie, then sniggered.  "When he gave it to me
he said there's more for Mark to think about instead of fingering that old
organ of his..."

     "Wretch!" I said,

     He gave me a close approximation to a Churchillian V-sign except that
Tris intercepted and caught him by the two raised fingers. "Ouch!  Why do
that?  Leave go!"  He wrenched his hand away and flicked his fingers.
"Anyway, no need for us to phone because Dad'll rabbit on to Aunt Sophie as
he usually does on Christmas morning and we can ask to speak to Adam when
he's finished nattering."

     "Well there's nowt else for us to do," said Tris, "You can go back and
warm yourself against Raph's hot body..."  He held up the boxers.  "...And
preserve your modesty and your Mum said breakfast is at nine.  Presents at
eleven."

     Frankie's face creased into a childish rictus of joy and anticipation
as he jumped up and down.  "Prezzies!  OooooH!"  Tris caught him a stinger
with the flat of his hand on his bare bum.  "Ouch!  That hurt!"

     "Keep quiet!  You'll wake everyone else up."

     "Mum's been up and put the turkey in the oven.  I heard her."

     "No need to make more noise than necessary.  Go back to bed."

     As I'd noted many times before Tris could control the Toad.  Frankie
slipped his boxers on.  Quite a red mark on his well-shaped buttock where
Tris's hand had connected.  No harm done though as he exited with a single
thumb up and pursed lips.

     Tris grinned at me.  "Back to bed for us, too.  I know what I want!"

     OK, I wanted it, too.  We were soon locked together in a loving
embrace and shared that divine ecstasy of a pulsing, spurting climax which
took no time to attain but sealed us in an eternity of bliss.  We held each
other tightly and so close and time ebbed away.  I dozed and was brought
back to consciousness by the lightest of feathery kisses on my lips.

     "I wanted that to go on for ever," I murmured.

     "It will," said Tris and the kisses continued.

     But time would not stand still.  Reluctantly we edged away from each
other.  I went to the bathroom first and shat, showered and shaved.  I was
all smooth and sweet-smelling when Tris lumbered in smelling of hot boy.  I
wanted him again, but...

     "Take that goofy look off your face, get dressed and go and help your
poor mother in the kitchen."  Tris smacked my bare bum.  Ooh, you sadist!
But I wanted him to do that again...  and again... and again.  "Mark, do as
you're told!  Oh, my God!"

     His attention had been drawn, as I looked at him and smiled, to my
rapidly thickening and rising prick.

     "Not half an hour ago and you're rampant again!"

     "Can't help it," I said, "You do have rather positive effects."

     "I can't help it either," he said.  Sure enough a blossoming hard-on
of his own was evident.  He shook his head.  "Later!"

     I dressed, went downstairs and found Mum in the kitchen.

     "Were you tormenting that boy?"  She laughed as she asked.  Gosh!  If
she'd heard Toad squealing, or being smacked and his jumping up and down,
and she was either in her bedroom or downstairs, what else might she have
heard in the past?

     "He woke us rather roughly wanting to know about the letter and then
he was excited about the prospect of presents and had to be restrained
forcibly.  Tris only smacked him once."

     Mum laughed again.  "And that letter?  What's it all about?"

     It might have said 'Private and Confidential' but mothers need to be
taken into their son's confidence.  At least over some things!  I spilled
the beans.  Mum listened without interruption as I told the whole tale,
even to the police raid witnessed by the 'crew' in Lensfield Road.  She
nodded sagely while whisking up eggs ready to be scrambled and laying out
rashers of bacon ready for the oven.  I helped by laying the breakfast
table remembering Raph and Gran would also need feeding.

     "Sounds very fishy," she said.  "Reminds me, get that pack of smoked
salmon out of the fridge.  Smoked salmon and scrambled egg, eh?"

     My favourite!  "But, Mum, what's your opinion?"

     "Don't get involved.  He sounds a bit desperate.  You've had enough
excitement so far."

     Although I'd told Dad and Mum about the tower and how Piers had been
there I think they were a bit sceptical, but I knew, and Dude knew and had
confirmed it for me.  All that was outweighed, I assumed in their minds, by
the discoveries in the cellars.  Much more down to earth, so to speak.
Still.

     "I can't help it, Mum, things happen.  Anyway, I'm too busy to think
about it.  This exam and then finals."

     "Not biting off too much?  You could cancel the exam until next time.
There's no hurry."

     "And waste the fees I've paid!" I said, in mock horror.  "No, I think
I'm ready for it and it's not interfering with the Maths as far as I know."

     She put plates to warm.  "Rothenia's an odd country," she mused.
"Maestro had tales to tell about the place before the War.  He conducted a
couple of operas there each year for several years.  Lots of unrest and
they had to be careful about what operas they put on.  He said it was Verdi
all over again with revolution and threats of censorship.  And there were
the usual ghosts in the opera house.  He did get awarded a medal, I think.
Ask your Gran next time you're in Italy."

     "Mum, you've never told me all that before."

     "It's never cropped up before."

     "I wish I'd known Granddad."

     She laughed.  "He didn't marry my mother until he was sixty.  You've
inherited his genes, though.  You and Francis.  He was a very fine
musician.  I saw him conduct many times when I was a girl and even when he
was in his eighties he still had great energy."  She laughed.  "He was a
tyrant in the pit but the orchestra loved him.  Some of the singers didn't.
He couldn't stand one or two of the prima donnas and I heard one stand up
row when he was rehearsing one well-known singer at home.  She didn't win!
They didn't call him Maestro for nothing."

     Yes, the photos Mum had of him in his evening clothes holding his
baton showed a tall man with a shock of hair and a moustache with an air of
authority but with a smile.  I always thought of a cross between Toscanini
and Einstein!

     "Never told you who he went to school with either, have I?" she said.

     I shook my head.  She laughed.

     "One reason we never had any trouble when I was a girl was that he
went to school with the boy who took over the control of the local branch
of the Mafia from his father.  They remained good friends because my father
had helped Danielo with his schoolwork as a boy because if he didn't get
good marks his father would beat him.  He always came to first nights with
his entourage and there was never a hint of a boo from the usually very
volatile audience.  In fact, your uncle Francesco is named after Danielo's
elder brother who was a Monsignor in the Vatican."

     I laughed.  "And Francis is named after him so is it the Mafia or the
Holy Ghost which has come down to him?"

     Mum screwed her nose up.  "Both probably.  A cloud of influence - but
not genetic!"

     Enough about Francis.  Abed with Raph.

     "Mum, you didn't mind Francis asking if Raphael could come for
Christmas?"

     She shook her head.  "No, I think he's delightful and he's no trouble.
He and your father hit it off immediately.  Anyway, you've invited Dudley
the policeman for lunch.  It'll be a bit of a squeeze but we'll manage."

     "Sorry, but he was like Raph, nowhere to go for Christmas Day.  In
fact, you nearly got another one."

     I recounted the story of Jerzy and his eviction while I put the kettle
on and got mugs ready for morning coffee.  Mum just laughed and said all
the more the merrier, but he would have had to sleep in the bath!

     I had just finished the story when Tris appeared and took over the
coffee making.  I was sent off to count the chairs for lunch while he was
cross-questioned about his work at the office over Uncle Francesco's
business.  I was listening in as best I could and noted that Mum seemed to
know a lot about what was going on.  As I came back in, having made a list
of lunchers and where they would be seated, Tris was just saying about the
new office being set up.

     "You seem to know quite a bit about what's going on," I said to her.

     "Francesco phones me frequently for my opinion - usually moaning first
of all because our mother has been playing up.  I've had to promise to go
out in the New Year to sort her out again.  Aldo was saying on Saturday
that she's refusing to pay her city tax because some official was rude to
her.  Francesco ended up paying it for her last year because she said she
was going to wait and be arrested for debt."  She laughed.  "Apparently she
said if they put her in prison she'd have all the prisoners on strike with
the warders following begging for her to be let out."

     "I thought she was very nice... ...and very generous," Tris said with
a straight face looking over my shoulder past me.

     Mum nearly collapsed with laughter.  I turned.  Another body had
appeared in the doorway.  Frankie with the greatest sneer on his face.  "I
heard that," he just about snarled, "Five....!"

     He stopped himself before 'fucking euros' dripped in scorn and anger
from his clenched teeth.  Mum held up an admonitory finger.  "Francis, it's
your Grandma you were about to say rude things.  I know, I know, she's a
mean old bat!  Whoops, I've said it.  But she'll never change."

     "No reason for him to get four times as much as me," he said, pointing
at a still straight- faced Tris.

     "He got twice as much as me," I said, "And I'm not complaining."

     "You're ganging up on me as usual," Toad was feeling nettled, "I get
the worst of everything.  All your cast-offs."

     "Who rifles through my wardrobe?" I asked feigning annoyance, "Where
are my new shirts and my black silk boxers?"  As the latter had been
removed from Toad's body not long ago he was cornered.

     "If Mum bought me new stuff I wouldn't have to borrow." he said with a
whine in his voice.

     I sprang to Mum's defence, and his, before she launched an attack on
him with the spoon she was holding.

     "You must have plenty of money," I said, "Unc gave you lots after the
visit and you got more on Saturday!  Spend some of it!"

     "I'm saving it for a rainy day," he said with a shrug of his
shoulders.

     Mum laughed.  "It's in his genes.  From his miserly Italian
grandmother!  Obviously skipped a generation!"

     Before Toad could get more incensed Tris handed him a tray with two
mugs and a cup of coffee on it plus a sugar bowl and small milk jug.  "Take
this upstairs.  Cup for your Gran, one mug for your Dad and one for Raph,
OK?"

     Frankie took it meekly.  Oh for control like that!

     When he'd gone we three looked at each other and grinned.  "Please
don't tease him too much," said Mum with her lovely laugh, "He's a good boy
really!"

     "Mum!" I said as Tris and I stood either side of her, bent down and
gave her a kiss.

     "Nice way to start Christmas!" she said and kissed us both in return.


To be continued: