Death in the opening chapter

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The Reverend Sebastian Fludd unlocked the door to his church, walked up the aisle, crossed himself, knelt briefly in prayer and then sat down in one of the front pews. Such was his wont as he began to think about tomorrow’s sermon. It was one of the most important of the year – less so than Christmas or Easter, but more significant than any other – for it heralded the annual Flanagan Fludd Literary Festival, which had been held for a decade in the pretty little seaside town of Mallborne.

The Reverend Sebastian was descended, vaguely, from the eponymous festival dedicatee and his presence as vicar of the small but perfectly formed thirteenth-century Saint Teath’s church owed something to this and to the presence in the decaying manor house of Sir Branwell Fludd, the fourteenth baronet, who, being the great grandson of the poet, pageant-contriver and pantomime-composer after whom the festival was named, was even more closely connected with the festival than his distant cousin, the rector. His living was, in effect, under Sir Branwell’s control. However, the bishop, something of a radical (though described by some as a closet conservative), was inclined to dispute this feudal relic.

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