Read Cherringham--The Last Puzzle for Free Online

Tim’s? His mum says I can stay for dinner.”
    Daniel! Sometimes she got so caught up on what she did with Jack, that taking care of her family — whom she loved more than life itself — seemed to slip into auto-pilot.
    “Fine love. I’ll pick you up on my way home. And Chloe? Any idea what she’s up to?”
    Daniel hesitated.
    Her two kids lived, Sarah knew, in different worlds. A teenage girl racing to be a woman as if time simply could not go fast enough, and Daniel, just beginning to enjoy that world opening up to him.
    “Um, I don’t know. She’s not here now. Maybe doing something after school?”
    “Yes, probably,” Sarah said.
    Not at all sure. She’d have to check in later. She trusted Chloe. But still, these days, there were scary opportunities, challenges … and for lack of a better word … temptations.
    As a single parent, she had to be on top of things.
    “Great, Daniel. See you later.”
    “Bye Mum.”
    And then Sarah stepped out of her car to go in search of Carlisle.
    *
    She looked up at the small church, its roof showing where the occasional slate had been blown off by storms and age, and only hastily applied wooden boards kept rain and snow from filling the ancient building.
    She saw the centuries-old door, yawning open, with an over-sized metal handle in lieu of a doorknob. To get to it, she had to — indeed — walk through a small graveyard.
    Some of the gravestones lay down flat on the ground, joining their owners at rest, spared from kids doing graveyard pranks or the blustery winds that could blow them right over.
    She could barely read the names, the dates … all so weathered. But on the few she could make it out … what amazing dates …
    Born 1543, died 1572. May angels …
    The rest worn away, whatever hope for the angels lost to the sandblasts of time.
    Then to another, this one so sad even centuries later.
    “Isaac Bell. Born May 2, 1612, died May 3, 1612.
    No words on that one.
    Because — Sarah imagined — what parent could summon words after such a quick and wrenching loss … angels or no angels?
    She went to the splintery wooden door and, though open, she had to give it a great yank to make it wider so she could enter. It gave out a massive creak that she was sure it must have carried like a howl across the nearby empty fields.
    And she entered to see Carlisle, notepad out, looking around the interior.
    *
    “Hello. See you made it past the deceased guardians outside.”
    Sarah nodded and smiled, though she didn’t feel that this place suited Carlisle’s humour.
    But then she thought … he was a spook. Who knows what — literally — gallows humour he had used to get through days of secrets and sabotage?
    “So, making progress?” she asked.
    “This damned puzzle. Well, some. Glad we have another day. Think I’ll do some old-fashioned research tonight over a good bottle of port. But this place … between us … I think it has the answer to one of the clues.”
    “Care to share?”
    She walked closer to him. The floor — she noticed even in the dim light from the bare electric bulbs hanging from the ceiling — was filled with half-erased images, cherubs with one cheek missing, wings minus the angel, bits of words in Latin.
    Not her strong suit.
    “You won’t tell any of the others, hmm?” he said with a smile.
    Sarah raised a hand.
    “I swear. Think of me … as an officer of the court.”
    “Or at least of the solicitor, eh? Well, anyway, here’s the damned clue …”
    He handed her his copy of the crossword, and she could see he had a good number of the crossword’s boxes filled in while others still were empty.
    He pointed to one and she read …
    “ ‘In an abandoned village, Paul held the final word of doom. ’”
    She shook her head. “What on earth does that mean?”
    Now Carlisle laughed. “You tell me. But actually …” and he leaned close, as if sharing a secret.
    Yes, Sarah thought again — Carlisle’s face inches from hers in this