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Chapter 6



"We knew it would come to this," said Cecil once he'd explained the nature of the call. "But so soon?"

"They've invited you to Cecil Sharp House? What for?" asked Brian who was a little confused by the news.

"I'm guessing that they'll want to appoint a new squire to try and help sort out this mess." Cecil couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. His parents' had named him Cecil in honour of their hero, Cecil Sharp, founder of the modern morris dance union. It had been his vision to unite the teams and mold them into the peace keeping force which they had become. Cecil had been brought up to revere and respect the morris. The dancers were the pride of Britain, the envy of all other states, even the French looked at them with an element of awe. Being squire of the foremost border morris side in the country was his life's ambition, and he was now faced with the possibility of having it ripped from him.

"When? How long do we have? Can we sort this ourselves?" asked Brian, peppering his questions without waiting for an answer.

"Thursday. I have a couple of days to try to work things out. How could it come to this? They must know that we will find them, and we will bring them to justice. We always do. Are they just trying to unsettle us?"

"If so, it's working," Brian replied. "That gives us a couple of days to do our thing. What do we know about the victims?" Cecil looked up from the kitchen table and nodded. Now was not the time for self-pity. Now was to time for action.

"Both were beaten to death. The weapon appears to have been a heavy implement. An iron bar, a cricket bat maybe. Only head shots were found on either body. Its as though the attacker wanted the victim to be unrecognisable. We haven't identified the one from the pub but we know that the first was Slim Tony. It'll be interesting if the second turns out to be a bad boy as well, if so we could be dealing with a vigilante."

"Let's hope not. Do you remember the trouble we had with Heroic Ted? He was a right one."

"Heroic Ted. Oh yes. The one who insisted on keeping order in Shrewsbury town centre. He was just a little over the top though, punishing litterbugs, kicking loiterers, he never killed anybody," Cecil pointed out.

"Very nearly though. He hospitalised the Mayor for dropping his cigar butt."

"That was the last straw for Heroic Ted," said Cecil. "What we have here is a completely different kettle of fish." 

"Do you think that we'll get an I.D. on the second one? Has anyone been reported missing?" asked Brian.

"Dennis is working on it. He'll let me know as soon as we have anything to go on. Agnes is following up on the pub-goers. Nobody saw anything other than the one lady who found the body and she is still in shock. There was only one person there who isn't well known."

"The man in the purple?" said Brian before Cecil could continue. "He stood out a country mile. Hardly inconspicuous. It's as though he wants us to remember him."

"He wants everyone to remember him. I doubt it's the the last we'll hear of him. Goes by the name of the Lord of the Dance."

"Really?" said Brian. "Where'd you get that from?"

"His card. He left a pile at the pub." Cecil handed Brian a small card upon which were written the words Lord of the Dance. A new kind of justice. Available for bar mitzvahs. Just call.

"Isn't Lord of the Dance copyrighted?" asked Brian.

"Just the words and music, I don't think the name is, or else we can add copyright infringement to the list."

"I guess that makes him prime suspect then. New justice? Sounds like our man."

"Maybe, but it all seems too easy. I need to speak with him, size him up."

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