The Q Files: Danger at Lichthorpe. By Mogmother
Scrabbletales is a new game invented by Mogmother and Optimist on the Run on 19/11/2017. It works like this...
Play a game of Scrabble (proper rules or not...) Record all the words used. Use all the words in a short story.
Mogmother then wondered what to do with her stories once she’d got them... Puzzle caches, of course!
Having created the Boy Named Q series in Shropshire, Mogmother then went on to write another series.
The cache is at: N 52 AB.CDE W 002 FG. HJK
AB= year the first Bond book by Fleming was published, minus the day Bond was born (according to both Pearson and Griswold).
CDE =year From Russia, With Love was published + year On Her Majesty's Secret Service was published
F= number of Fleming's novels published in 1967
G= year Fleming died (196G)
HJK: The first Bond film was released in 196J; when was the book it was based on published? 19KL (L minus 5=H)
(words: unfazed, gooleys, of, egg, yours, yam, dame, quoin, hung, luter, rove, elk, humor, viner, weir, cantered, jets, track, vinous, repair, spaniels, wool, next, abbot, dare, div (gii) )
Chapter 6
‘YOU’RE not putting that!’ Hammurabi scowled, suddenly bearing a marked resemblance to the 17th century Mortmain in the portrait above him. ‘It can’t be in the dictionary-‘
‘It is, look.’ James extended the battered volume towards first his host, then Freya. ‘Australian slang for small stones. Gooleys.’
Freya put a hand up to smother a giggle.
‘I knew it was a mistake, playing Scrabble with you.’ Hammurabi muttered. ‘You’ve already got two bonuses for using all your letters… Freya? Do we allow Australian slang?’
‘Yes, if you let me have an American spelling.’ She laid tiles on the board. ‘Humor- on a triple word score, and that also makes luter- who must be someone who plays a lute…’
‘Go on, then.’ Hammurabi sighed. ‘All I can do is put DA in front of ME: dame.-Oh, for goodness’ sake, I’ve already got two of those…’ He added two new tiles to the ledge in front of him and stood up. ‘And those were the last two in the bag. Anyone want a cup of tea? I won’t disturb Jeremiah, I’ll go and make some in his cubby-hole… It seems all wrong, sitting here playing games during work hours, but even if I could get to the main road, they’re telling people not to travel generally and in London half the people who should be in aren’t…’
‘You’re working from home.’ Freya put her arm round him. ‘You were answering emails at five this morning…’
‘Mm. I’m not expected to be in the office, at least: I was going to travel back on Sunday evening, but that currently looks rather impractical…’ He went away to make the tea.
‘How are you enjoying your stay?’ Freya turned to James, looking like the perfect hostess in a floor-length kilt and a jersey made from black wool.
‘Very much, thank you.’ He smiled. ‘Very restful, no-one trying to shoot me or seduce me…’
She shook her head at him, smiling. ‘How do you feel, with all these different people being you in the films? It must be like being the Queen, or Dr. Who or something…’
Unfazed, James carefully put down the word ELK and considered. ‘What I do isn’t anywhere near as glamorous or interesting as they make it look in the films. I’ve seen them, and I sit there thinking, that couldn’t happen; how many shots did he fire? Why hasn’t he hit him? I wouldn’t dare destroy that much equipment, either; if it comes back damaged –or not at all- it’s taken out of our pay unless we have an absolutely watertight excuse… But, you saying that: I’m not the original 007. My predecessor was a somewhat vinous individual: he was killed in East Germany in 1979, in a car accident which probably wasn’t all that accidental… They gave me his number, and I was already James, so why not? Fleming chose “Bond” because it happens to be a solid British name that doesn’t attract attention- or didn’t to start with!- and isn’t as obviously fake as Smith or Brown; people laugh and/or commiserate when I tell them my name, but- it is like being an Elizabeth Windsor or a Russell Abbot; yes, it might be your name, but no one believes for a second that it actually is you they’re looking at, especially when they only associate the name with the face of various actors.
‘It was a really odd experience, becoming the next 007- Oh dear, am I distracting you while you’re trying to think?’ He grinned impudently as Freya reached for a set of ear defenders which hung next to the computer.
Freya was still shuffling tiles and muttering when Hammurabi returned with a tray.
‘It’s still snowing, it’s supposed to be minus eleven tonight and there’s a drift up to the quoin on the archway, according to Jason. Texted me… He’s tunnelled through and got all the sheep into the courtyard, and Amalthea: they’re in the coach-house. It’s a pity there isn’t a way through from the house into the West range, it’d save going outdoors to check on them-‘
‘The West range?’ James looked sidelong at him. ‘At ground level?’
‘At any level.’ Hammurabi frowned. ‘James, what do you mean?’
Freya was still deciding what to put: James scribbled quickly, showed the slip of paper to Hammurabi.
SECRET PASSAGE. DOES SHE KNOW?
He tore off the writing, crumpled it and put it in his mouth, watching for the man’s reaction.
Hammurabi, who was scoring, ripped a strip off the bottom of the pad and wrote YES. +JER. HOW DO YOU KNOW?
Freya put the dictionary down triumphantly, pulled off the ear protectors and placed DI in front of a V. ‘It’s an evil spirit, Persian: it is a word… What’s up? You two?’
‘I was telling you how I became the second 007.’ Bond said quietly. ‘Harry- the first one- had kept records of all the information he managed to collect. How people were related, whether they’d actually met. Pet hates and predilections. Floor plans of buildings… I’m probably the only person who’s ever read all of it, and I have. Repeatedly. Initially in order to produce some sort of usable index…. And I’ve got my own files, for my replacement. Handwritten; shorthand. I’ve never been here before, Hammurabi, but I know there’s a secret passage. It runs from this house through into the loft above the coach house. He was shown it by Horatius Mortmain in November 1959… I looked it up when you first suggested I visited. There was only Horatius and his mother living here then, though he’d met Marion and was probably having an affair with her; they didn’t marry till the old lady died in 1960.
‘According to Harry, she was an old lady with three dogs that slept on her bed, and they used to wake her if Horatius came back late; his room was beyond hers on the west side of the main stairs, second floor. So when he came back from the Mortmain Arms or wherever, he didn’t use the front door and the main stairs and risk a lecture from his mother, he used the secret passage. And he used it once when Harry was staying here: they went out and back during the night. Harry wrote that they cantered bareback across country to a track by a weir, handed something over to a man in a car and rode back, saw to the horses, left them in the field behind the house and replaced the bridles in the harness-room, then got back into the house via the passage- and not a whimper from the spaniels.’
‘Did he say how to get into the passage?’ Freya demanded.
‘Y-es… But not in any great detail, so your secret’s probably safe.’
‘That’s not the point.’ Hammurabi’s eyes were alight with interest. ‘You see, we know about the passage that starts in this room and goes East… And you’re telling us there’s another one?’
James nodded, leaning casually across to look at his host’s letters. ‘Try “rove” across there…’ he suggested.
‘Oh, blow the Scrabble!’ Hammurabi swatted him away.
‘Can’t we at least finish the game first?’ the visitor protested.
‘You’ve won by miles.’ Hammurabi sighed. ‘Oh okay. I’ll put ROVE, you put… VINER- Freya, what was your last word? I missed it-‘
‘YAM. Eight, on a double word score: sixteen. And this is EGG, off the E of VINER, five, and I’m out. James, you’ve won, so can we go and look for this other secret passage?’
James grinned at them. ‘As long as you show me yours, if we find it…’
FTF two nosy parkers FTF