become very excited indeed. Isn’t that true, Ronald?’
‘You mean, was he sick?’ Foxworth said. ‘Yes, the man was very sick.’
Callard pointed at a silver-framed photograph on one of the tables. ‘Is that him?’
Holding her cool with difficulty now. She’d walked down here, presumably, of her own free will. Convinced that, whatever was going to happen, she would be in control. She was Persephone Callard, she was famous, she was unique; either she got to call the shots or she walked away.
Here, in this half-lit dungeon, Gary Seward, with his sawn-off gun, was calling the shots. Callard’s outrage, Grayle guessed, had not yet quite been overtaken by fear.
‘Clarence was young then, Miss Callard.’ Seward motioned with his gun at the photo. ‘And the ladies was fond of him. Sad, really. He never could understand why, as he got older, they shied away.’
‘So not too smart either,’ Grayle said.
‘Grayle Underwood, you get the second warning,’ Seward said quietly. ‘Now, Miss Callard, you see that jacket on the hanger? Over the heaters?’
Grayle saw that the jacket was black or dark grey. That all three buttons were fastened. Oh Jesus.
‘He had two suits like that,’ Seward said. ‘He was cremated in the other. That one over there is the actual jacket he was wearing when he died.’
Callard made no comment. Grayle saw her glance at Bobby.
‘We did have it cleaned. That was probably a mistake. Too late now. Now this shotgun. This wasn’t actually Clarence’s — he was more of a hands-on craftsman, know wha’ mean? — but he was the geezer modified it. Sawed off the barrel for me, filed it down nice, so it didn’t rip the lining of your coat.’
‘This is the Clarence Museum,’ Bobby said.
‘A Clarence
‘That’s simplistic,’ Callard said, but there was a faint sheen on her face.
‘Nor indeed a better person to facilitate the connection. You’re number one, ain’tcha? The most effective medium in this country, maybe the world?’
‘I don’t think so. I think I’ve just had the most publicity.’
‘Nah. Don’t undersell yourself, sweetheart. See, even Kurt thinks you’d be the one Abblow hisself woulda picked for the job. On account of you got no religion.’
Grayle remembered the heavy cross Callard had worn around her neck. It was not visible tonight; she wore no jewellery with the plain black dress.
‘Plus,’ Gary laughed his awful laugh, ‘Clarence was quite fond of coloured ladies. As I recall. And Ron recalls. Tell the people, Ronny.’
Foxworth sighed bitterly.
‘Gary means he raped one once.’
They guided Cindy, somewhat bemused, to a spacious tent jointly rented, apparently, by practitioners of t’ai chi and transcendental meditation. There were cushions and rugs and oriental lanterns, and the central space was swiftly filled by people reflecting that mixture of the quaint, the exotic and faintly menacing which had come to characterize such gatherings as this.
‘Why the disguise, Cindy?’ Lorna Crane asked him. ‘I don’t get it. You’re a legend. We were all having a laugh earlier on about the directors of Camelot jumping from the fourteenth floor.’
Cindy was startled. ‘They haven’t?’
“Course they haven’t. But I think everybody here agrees the National Lottery’s a force for the dissolution of society.’
‘It is?’
‘What?’ Lorna snorted. ‘Millions of people living from ticket to ticket? Gotta be a millionaire by weekend or life’s not worth living? Buying more and more tickets, five times as many on a roll-over week, ’cause that’s
A small Indian gentleman in a white suit told Cindy, ‘Sir, you have helped enlighten the populace about this pulsing core of negativity thrusting its black tentacles into every household. You have become the vehicle for a necessary karmic force.’
‘Well, I’m not too sure about that,’ Cindy said. ‘Indeed, it was never my intention to become the vehicle for anything more than a mild irreverence, but…’
‘Don’t knock it, man,’ Maurice Gooch whispered in his ear. ‘You’re on a roll here.’ And then, raising his voice, ‘Well, it’s good to have Cindy wi’ us.’
‘It’s a sign!’ someone shouted.
‘Aye,’ said Maurice, ‘but let’s not forget the original purpose of this meeting, which was to elect delegates to express our general dissatisfaction to organizers with the exploitative way the festival’s being run. First up, Forcefield Security. We’ve just had an example of the way them buggers operate — law unto ’emselves, private army — and that’s not acceptable in a civilized society, least of all in what’s supposed to be a centre of enlightenment and human potential. Agreed?’
‘Forcefield must go,’ the Indian gentleman said firmly.
‘Point two — the fees. We all thought the basic charge for a pitch were a complete rip-off, but we thought it were worth coppering up for on account of it were such a prestigious event.’
‘Some of us always had our suspicions,’ Lorna muttered.
‘But what we didn’t reckon on were the extras — vegetarian meals at fancy restaurant prices wi’ no discount for stallholders. No water on site except for bottled at rip-off prices. And then the campsite fees — seventy quid a night for a bit of sodden grass, size of a hearthrug.’
‘Should be free,’ Lorna said.
‘Aye, it should. Question is, what do we do about it? We’ve got a proposal on t’table that we elect a delegation to go up t’castle first thing tomorrow wi’ a petition signed by everybody as objects to the way we’re being treated — with the stand-by threat that, if we get no satisfaction, we all pull out, leavin’ ’em completely shagged for the big weekend. Now that makes sense to me. Do we have an amendment?’
Cindy coughed lightly.
Maurice turned to him.
‘Far be it from me, Maurice, to intrude upon a private meeting …’
‘You’re a paid-up stallholder, man. Let’s have it.’
‘… but while energies are at this moment running high, a grey morning and a deserted site could well be less conducive to the firing of passions. Also, I wonder how many of you are aware that at this very moment, being formally entertained in the banqueting suite, is a small and elite gathering of dignitaries representing local government, national government, tourism, economic development …’
‘Fuck me,’ said Maurice. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘And while a petition may be taken away for consideration, thus delaying the consultative process by a day or more, it would be less easy for the organizers to brush it under the carpet were it to be presented in full view of the great and the good …’
‘Embarrassing the piss out of the buggers at t’same time! He’s right. Bugger the petition. We should ger up there now.’
‘What about the security guards?’ someone asked nervously.
‘They may well find themselves outnumbered on this occasion, don’t you think?’ the placid placard man pointed out.
‘Shit hot, man,’ said Maurice.
‘It was how we last put him away,’ Foxworth said. ‘She was called Priscilla Hall. West Indian. Barmaid at Judge’s local, the Dragoon. She was in hospital for three weeks with internal injuries.’
