everything, but I don’t. Now she’s dead and I need to find out what it was in those notes that killed her.”
“Well, that’s as clear as mud. You weren’t there when her soul departed, were you?”
“No.”
“Good, I can’t be dealing with a case of possession tonight, I haven’t got enough salt. You need to recover what you wrote, yes? So let’s go back through the process. Hang on a minute.”
She returned with bowls of tea the colour of a rough sea and a covered plate. “Take a couple of these first. They’ll help you relax.”
“What are they?” Bryant peeked under a tea towel.
“Custard creams. They always work for me. Now, you need to find yourself in a comfortable place.”
“I can’t, I’m in your house.”
“I mean, imagine you’re on a beach.”
Bryant closed his eyes, laced his fingers and lay back. “All right, Hastings.”
“Not Hastings. Not somewhere with a burnt-down pier and a juvenile delinquency problem. Pick somewhere warm, safe and relaxing.”
“All right, I’m at home with Alma, sitting in front of the fire, reading my copy of
“You don’t have to tell me everything, just imagine it. It’s warm and you’re feeling sleepy. Your heartbeat is slowing down – ”
Bryant opened one eye. “Is that a good idea?”
“It’s fine. You’re relaxed. You’re starting to fall asleep.”
Bryant promptly fell asleep.
“No, you’re not supposed to actually fall asleep. Wake up.”
Bryant released a snore. His head lolled. Maggie slapped his face gently. Then harder.
“Ow. What’s happening? Did you do it?”
“You fell asleep.”
“You told me to.”
“Let’s try again. I’m going to count back from ten to one, and you will feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into a state of relaxation.”
Maggie counted back and Bryant slipped into a light hypnotic state. In fact, he relaxed so much that he almost vanished into the sofa. Bryant had always been open to new ideas and beliefs. He was highly susceptible and in many ways naive, but she loved him for his refusal to become regimented in his habits and thoughts.
“You are in your office, assembling your notes and thinking about your memoirs. They are laid out in front of you on your desk. What cases are you considering for inclusion in the first volume?”
“The Palace Phantom, the Deptford Demon, the Belles of Westminster, the Battersea Cat Batterer, the Flying Dragons of Soho, the Blood Thrower of Belsize Park, the Butterfly Killer, and that strange business in the Elephant and Castle Odeon that led to the building being demolished. We called it the Fall of the House of Usherettes – ”
“Apart from the criminal cases, was there anything that would have breached the Official Secrets Act or any freedom of information rulings? Try to see yourself typing up the pages, and wondering,
“Oh, I never think that. Put it all down, I say.”
“Didn’t you have a problem with the Ministry of Defence?”
“What kind of problem?”
“I don’t know. You came round here and told me about it.”
“When was this?”
“About seven years ago.”
“Oh, that’s right. The researchers.”
“Tell me about them.”
“They were working on a secret project down in Wiltshire. Some kind of weapon. The work had been outsourced to a private company jointly owned by US and UK executive bodies. There had been a high number of suicides over the year, research scientists, all males in their twenties, mostly Asian. None of them had shown suicidal tendencies before, and all were working on the same project.”
“What was your involvement?”
“We’d been called in by an independent think tank to look at the situation. I handled the assignment personally, as a favour. I didn’t involve John. I delivered a report, but no action was ever taken. My findings were ignored.”
“What did you find out?”
For the first time, Bryant hesitated. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” he said slowly.
“How much of this did you put in your notes to Anna?”
“I’m not sure. I never include the boring bits. I probably edited it a little. Oh.”
“What?”
“I gave her the file of background material, just for fact-checking. I meant to go through it, just to make sure there wasn’t anything sensitive. But then we got involved with the Highwayman case and I didn’t get round to it.”
“How would an outsider find out what she’d read?”
“John explained it to me. If she’d grown curious enough to run searches online they would have been flagged up in the Cyber-Defence Security Department of the MoD. They could have traced the requests right back to her.”
“You think they would do that?”
“Of course. Defence of the realm. Oh, what have I done?”
“All right, you are rising back to the surface now as I count down to zero, and you will remember everything we discussed. When I reach zero you will be awake.” She brought Bryant back to full alertness.
“Don’t you see?” said Bryant, attempting to pull himself up from the couch, scrabbling for his hat and coat. “It means they knew where she kept her files. They knew she had a stomach ulcer. They knew how to get to her, and to her mother. They planted the girl in the house to look after Mrs Marquand. But they still haven’t found what they need. I wish I hadn’t come to you, Maggie. You’ve made me realize something terrible.”
“What’s that?”
“I killed her. It’s my fault Anna Marquand is dead. Defence of the realm.”
And with that, he was gone.
? The Memory of Blood ?
39
Cruelty
The hunt for Gail Strong was in full swing. Renfield and Longbright were working as a team, dividing the search into quadrants. “Every home of everyone who was at the party,” Jack told the others, handing out their assignments. “Every garage, vehicle, lock-up and attic. Every private place they don’t want us to know about.”
“How are we going to get them to tell us things like that?” asked Mangeshkar.
“You’ll just have to use your charm, won’t you?” Renfield snapped. “Any sensible questions?”
“It might be worth trying offices, any place they’ve got keys to,” said Bimsley.
“Good thinking. Where’s Dan?”
“He’s over at Gail Strong’s apartment.”
“OK, Janice is going to cover the theatre. Meera, you’re always complaining about getting the crap jobs. I’m taking you off the property searches and putting you on something trickier. Go through Gail Strong’s social network sites, Twitter, Facebook, anything else she’s on, and talk to her closest friends. She might not be very likeable but she’s a smart girl; she might try to leave us a clue as to her whereabouts. See if there’s anything she’s particularly associated with apart from shopping and partying. Nicknames, passwords, emergency contacts, anything we should
