“Wicken had told him. Every turn produced fresh combinations of what he knew. As he did so, he upended each piece and combined one part with another. Then he fitted together accounts from different sources and and sometimes took them apart again. Inferences and deductions were made, considered and rejected. Guesswork filled gaps and was pulled out again. Occasionally facts and ideas fitted together with such precision that he knew they had to form part of the truth. Yet even now the full solutio...n eluded him. The archdeacon was not a stupid man. Did he guess that he was being led on? Would vague rumours of dissidents and freethinkers be sufficient to draw him deep into the Norfolk countryside. Would they be enough to take him there late in the afternoon, to a lonely spot like Gressington? He must have been intending to meet someone. Who was it? Did they meet, or was he dead before the other person could arrive? Feeling disgusted that he knew so much and yet understood so little, Adam felt disheartened.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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