The Graveyard Position by Robert Barnard Read Free Book Online

for the first time in many years. He wondered whether his father had gone to pieces, in the common phrase, when his mother died, or whether even before that he had been unsatisfactory, erratic, inclined to go off the rails. He thought that perhaps mingling with his wife’s family could have inclined him to indulge in manic periods, but at that date Sheffield was far enough away from Leeds, and was served by a sufficiently slow and unreliable train service, to ensure that contact with the in-laws was occasional, and at times of his father’s choosing. Merlyn certainly never remembered being visited by any of the relatives at home, only visiting them here in Leeds. He did remember that Clarissa was rather fond of his father, and he had registered that it was as a sort of covering-up for the vagaries of her dead sister’s husband that she had first started taking in her sister’s son, himself.
    Merlyn, having thought it through for some time, concluded that the serious breakup had started when his elder sister died of leukemia, two years after her mother’s death. She had been the apple of Jake Docherty’s eye, and the loss of her had left him ravaged by grief. Merlyn himself came nowhere near Deborah in his affections, and it soon became a matter of course, as soon as one of his father’s drinking bouts started, that Merlyn would raid the little cache of money that Clarissa had provided for him and take the train to Leeds, to clean clothes and a warm bed, and in particular to a regular supply of nourishing and rather delicious food.
    Was Jake still alive? Leaving aside the DNA investigation, Merlyn neither knew nor cared. It did occur to him that when he came into his aunt Clarissa’s house, its contents, and her money, his father might come shambling back into his life. Only to shamble straight back out of it, he thought grimly. Still, it might be as well to be prepared. He wondered who, among the rich array of family members he had already remet, would know what had happened to poor old Jake. He had always liked his children to call him Jake. Perhaps he didn’t like being reminded that he wasn’t much of a father.
    As Merlyn showered and changed in his hotel room he went through the family members in his mind. All in all he thought it likely that the one who would know most about all of them would be Rosalind. But she would be the last person to give out information to him, since she believed—or affected to—that he was an impostor. Finally he decided on Cousin Malachi: he was, or seemed, well disposed toward him, he was the oldest of his cousins, and he had sometimes been his father’s drinking companion on his occasional visits to Leeds. Malachi would, for all he knew, have kept in touch with Jake.
    It was by now early evening. Dinner in a hotel restaurant did not appeal. He rang Directory Inquiries, got Malachi’s number, and rang it.
    â€œLeeds 2658-421,” the high, precise, rather epicene voice answered.
    â€œMalachi, it’s Merlyn Docherty here.”
    â€œOh—er—Merlyn.” After a hesitation there was a chuckle. “Rosalind has issued strict directives that we are not to call you Merlyn Docherty.”
    â€œOh really?” said Merlyn. “Do people in the family take notice of Rosalind’s directives?”
    â€œHardly any notice at all. In my case, none. You look like Merlyn. You walk like him, which tells even more in your favor in my eyes.”
    â€œI think you’re probably right. I once saw Prunella Scales on television trying to do the Queen. Everything was right except the walk, which was a hundred miles off. But anyway, I’ve just set in motion a full DNA test, so when that’s completed you will know.”
    â€œOh, don’t blind me with science, dear boy. I’ve heard of these things, and I know that long-ago murderers keep being arrested because of them, but I really have very little idea what