The Headhunters (30 page)
THE TEAM celebrated the same evening at the Crown and Anchor at Dell Quay. Unnoticed by them—a mere stone’s throw away—a small yacht called the
Nonpareil
glided serenely back to its mooring. It had also been missed by Interpol, the coastguard, and the harbour police. Denis Cartwright looked fit and tanned after two weeks in the south of France. He knew nothing of what had been going on. By his own decision he’d been out of contact, the only way he was guaranteed a chance to relax. When interviewed later wearing one of his trademark bow ties, he was surprised by all the fuss over his so-called disappearance. ‘I told my personal assistant I was off sailing for a couple of weeks. I can’t understand why she didn’t let everyone know. She’s usually so reliable.’
THE NOVEL YOU HAVE just read is a work of fiction. No mammoth was discovered at Selsey in 1987. But a real find of much earlier provided the idea. The distinguished local historian, Edward Heron-Allen, recalled the event:
In March, 1909, a heavy easterly gale of some days duration stripped the shingle from the steep East shore of Selsey Bill and brought to light a mass of Mammoth bones. Unfortunately, the entire population of Selsey fell upon them like one man and a boy (in the hope of gain), and the greater part of the skeleton, which was only get-at-able at extreme low tide for about three days, was wrenched out of the clays in a thousand fragments. Prof. Gregory, Dr. A. Smith Woodward, and myself were present at this barbarous demolition, but I was fortunately able to secure afterwards (for gain) the major portion of the recovered bones, which are now in the Natural History Museum at South Kensington. The measurements of the kneecaps, a toe bone, and four teeth, which were all perfect, enable us to say that this was a young Mammoth standing about nine feet high.
