The Janus Stone

approaching. A man dressed in clerical black, walking slowly along the boards laid down over the churned-up earth. Father Hennessey. The foreman will have a fit, thinks Ruth.

Father Hennessey approaches and, suddenly, his face is filled with such recognition and delight that Ruth is stunned.

Why on earth is he so pleased to see her? Or is it Nelson he is looking at?

But the priest looks straight past Ruth and Nelson. His blue eyes are full of tears.

‘Martin,’ he says, ‘how good to see you again.’

25 June Ludi Taurii begin

An opportunity presented itself today. The mother had gone out, leaving the child asleep in its bed. It no longer sleeps in a cot but in a bed with bars at the side to stop it falling out. She was worried about leaving the child alone in the house with me but she was in pain from an infected tooth and needed to see the dentist urgently. I assured her smoothly that the child was safe with me, as indeed she will be. As soon as the mother had gone I got my knife and went straight into the room.

She was asleep, her mouth slightly open. She is not an attractive child, whatever the mother says. I turned her over so the neck was exposed. I could see a little pulse there. The perfect place.

To tell you the truth, dear diary, I had slightly been dreading this moment. Would I be struck by Pity, that emasculating emotion? Would I lack the requisite manliness to do the deed? But I am pleased to report that, as I stood above the infant like an avenging angel, I felt no pity at all. Rather a great joy swept over me, a feel of immense power and righteousness. Yes, that was it. I knew beyond any doubt that I was doing the right thing. My arm felt like steel, strong yet flexible. My eyes burned in my skull. I lifted the knife.

Then – oh banality! – the phone rang. Oh, evil modern influence, obtruding on the ancient rituals! Of course, the moment was ruined and I went to answer the infernal machine. It was Them. We chatted quite civilly but they will be back next week. So little time.

Still very hot. The house waits.

CHAPTER 24

At first Ruth does not understand what is happening. She looks from Hennessey to Max and back again, wondering as she does so why Nelson also looks so shell shocked. And it is Nelson who speaks first.

‘Martin,’ he says, ‘you’re Martin Black?’

Max laughs. A laugh Ruth has never heard before, harsh and slightly wild. ‘Black, Grey,’ he says, ‘what’s the difference?’

And then Ruth remembers. Martin and Elizabeth Black. The two children who had lived at the home and had vanished so mysteriously. Can it really be true? Can Max, who claimed to know nothing about the Woolmarket Street site, actually have lived here once? Is this why he has come back to Norfolk? And if he has kept this secret from her, says another, darker, voice in her ear, what else has he been hiding?

Father Hennessey now comes closer to Max, who has turned deadly white. ‘Martin,’ he says, in a voice choked with emotion, ‘I never thought I’d see you again. My dear boy.’

Max reaches out a hand and touches the priest’s arm. His eyes, too, are full of tears.

‘Father Hennessey,’ he says, ‘I never forgot you.’

‘And Elizabeth?’ It is barely a whisper.

‘She died.’ Max turns his face away.

Nelson’s voice is like a rush of cold air. ‘I think you need to answer a few questions, Mr Grey. Or is it Mr Black?’

‘I’ve done nothing wrong,’ says Max defiantly.

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ says Nelson. ‘Now, if you’d accompany me to the station.’

Max looks as if he is about to refuse but then he gives a little shrug and follows Nelson out through the archway. No wonder he knew what the inscription meant, thinks Ruth.

Father Hennessey hesitates and then, with an apologetic glance at Ruth, he hurries after the other men. Ruth is left on her own amongst the diggers.

Late afternoon and Ruth is at home. For the first few hours after the revelation at the building site she had been certain that either Max or Nelson was about to call at any minute. Surely someone was going to tell her what was going on? But as time passed and she fed Flint, made herself a light lunch (and heavy pudding), tidied the sitting room, put the washing on, answered emails and finally settled down to read a dissertation on ‘The Archaeology of Disease’, she had to face the fact that no one was going to think it worth updating her. She is peripheral to this case, the bones expert, the slightly eccentric academic. She is outside the main action. Max had lied to her, probably used her to get news of the Woolmarket Street site. Nelson forgets her the instant that he gets the scent of a breakthrough. The only person who thinks she is central to the case, she thinks bitterly, is the madman who keeps leaving museum exhibits for her to find.

But then, as the birds start gathering over the Saltmarsh for their evening spectacular, thousands of little black dots like iron filings dividing and converging against the sky, Ruth sees a black Range Rover draw up beside her gate. Max.

She goes to the door, uncertain how she feels. On one hand she just wants to know what the hell is going on, on the other she has decidedly mixed feelings about Max Grey. Martin Black, of course, she doesn’t know at all.

He looks desperately tired, chalk white with dark rings under his eyes. Five hours of questioning by Nelson can’t be fun for anyone, of course, but Ruth now realises that he has been looking strained for some time, probably ever since the news of the body under the doorway. No, before that, from the moment he realised that Ruth’s site was the old children’s home, when she asked him about the words cut into the archway. Despite herself, Ruth feels sorry for him.

‘How are you?’ she asks.

‘I’ve felt better.’

‘Do you want a cup of tea?’

‘A drink would be good.’

She gets him a glass of wine and makes herself a herbal tea (so disgusting that it must be good for her).

They sit for a minute in silence then Max says, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘For lying to you.’

‘You didn’t exactly lie, you just didn’t tell me.’

He smiles. ‘Father Hennessey would say that was the same thing.’

‘It’s incredible that he recognised you after all that time.’

‘He said it was partly the setting. Seeing me standing by the archway. Jesus – when you asked me what those words meant! They’re burned into my heart.’

He takes a gulp of wine. His hands are shaking.

‘What happened at the police station?’ Ruth asks.

‘Oh, Nelson took a statement. Went on for hours. They took fingerprints and everything. Talked to Father Hennessey too but they wouldn’t let him stay when they questioned me.’

‘What did they question you about?’

‘My disappearance. After all, I’ve been a missing person for over thirty years. And about Elizabeth.’