They found Martin in the ringing chamber.
Relf asked whether he would speak to them about Michael. Martin remained standing beside the table.
"What do you want to know?"
"About the accident," Eleanor said.
He looked past her at the ropes.
"It happened inside the tower."
"In Canterbury?"
"Yes."
"Was Michael ringing?"
"No. He was looking at an inscription."
Relf pulled out a chair but did not sit.
"What did the investigation establish?"
"That he went into a dangerous position while a bell was up."
"Do you believe that's what happened?"
Martin turned towards him.
"He'd rung for forty-five years."
"Experienced people can have accidents."
"I know."
Martin sat down.
"But he knew not to go near it like that."
Eleanor waited before asking, "Why was the bell up?"
"That's what I asked."
"Was there an answer?"
"Nobody knew."
"Could Michael have raised it himself?" Relf asked.
"Of course."
"Do you know whether he did?"
"No."
Martin rubbed one hand over the other.
Relf asked about Bull, then Hale and the names Mercer, Hart and Weller. Martin said he did not know of Michael having met any of them.
"What about Hong Kong?" Relf asked.
"He went several times."
"For work?"
"Ringing."
Eleanor looked at Relf. Michael had not needed a connection to shipping or Customs to visit the towers.
"Do you still have his papers?" she asked.
Martin nodded.
"At home. I haven't sorted them."
Hale came with them under police supervision.
Martin said little to him. At the house, he showed them the boxes and left Relf to explain what they were looking for.
There were photographs, peal records, church leaflets and letters. Travel itineraries took Michael through Hong Kong, Singapore, Australia and New Zealand.
They worked through the papers until evening.
Eleanor found the envelope between a bundle of leaflets and a folder of photographs.
There was no stamp.
On the front, Michael had written:
MARTIN — IF ANYTHING HAPPENS
She passed it to him.
Martin stared at the writing.
"I haven't seen this."
"Would you like us to leave you with it?"
He shook his head.
"You open it."
Inside was a sheet of paper and a photograph.
Eleanor unfolded the letter.
Martin,
I may be making a fool of myself, but I have found the same marks in three towers. They are not founders' marks and they are not ringing marks. Somebody is using the bells as reference points.
If I'm wrong, burn this and laugh at me.
If I'm right, don't trust anyone who tells you the old Marsh routes are dead.
Especially Customs.
She laid it on the table where Martin could read it.
He went through it slowly.
"He knew."
"He'd found something," Relf said.
"And two days later he was dead."
Relf did not answer immediately.
"We'll reopen what happened."
Martin looked at him.
"You think it was an accident."
"I don't know. I want the records, the photographs and the witness accounts before I tell you what I think."
Martin turned back to the letter.
The photograph showed a bell in a full-circle installation, taken from inside the bell chamber.
A small rectangular plate had been fixed beneath the inscription. Six groups of characters were stamped into it.
Eleanor turned it over.
NOT ORIGINAL. RECENT FIXING. ASK TOM.
She handed it to Relf.
"Do you know who Tom was?" he asked Martin.
"No."
"Could Michael have known Weller?"
"Not that he ever told me."
Relf photographed both sides of the picture, then turned to Hale, who had been sitting quietly beside one of the unopened boxes.
"You said Michael sent you a photograph. Is this the same one?"
Hale leaned forward to look.
"Yes."
"Did he know Tom Weller?"
"He knew Thomas Hart."
Martin looked across the table.
"You told us that none of this had anything to do with Michael."
"I didn't," Hale said.
"How did he know Hart?"
"Hong Kong. In 1987."
"Michael was twenty-one."
"Yes."
"What was Hart doing with him?"
"Learning to ring."
Eleanor looked at the photograph again.
"Hart was a ringer?"
Hale nodded.
"A very good one."