heard…” He let the sentence hang in the air. “Maybe we should try to find this ‘Matt’ and discover how much he knows.”
“And how are we meant to do that?” a silver-haired man with a French accent asked. His name was Danton and he was connected in some way to military intelligence. “Give me a full name and we could find him in seconds. But Matt? Short for Matthew? Or he could be from my country… Matthieu. Or he could even be a girl… Matilda.”
“He’ll find us,” Miss Ashwood said.
“You think he’ll just walk in here?” the bishop asked. He shook his head. “It seems obvious to me. If you really think something is happening in Yorkshire, we should go there and try to prevent it. We should be there now.”
“We can’t,” Dravid said. “It would be far too dangerous. We don’t know what we’re looking for. And anyway, we agreed from the start that we cannot become personally involved. That’s not our role. We exist to watch, to share information and – when the time comes – to fight back. That’s when we’ll be needed. We cannot do anything that will put us at risk.”
“So we sit back and do nothing?”
“He will find his way to us,” Miss Ashwood said. “You have to remember. It is meant to happen. Everything in the history of the world has been preparing itself for this moment, for the return of the Five and the final struggle. There is no coincidence. Everything is planned. If we don’t see that, we lose one of our greatest weapons.”
“Matt.” The Frenchman spoke the single word. He didn’t sound too impressed.
Miss Ashwood nodded slowly. “Let’s just pray he finds us soon.”
A VISITOR
Matt was chopping wood again. There were blisters on his hands and the sweat was running down his back, but the pile never seemed to get any smaller. Noah was sitting a few paces away, watching him. Matt split another log apart and threw down the axe. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
“How long have you been here, Noah?” he asked.
Noah shrugged.
“Where did Mrs Deverill find you? Were you born here or did you escape from the local lunatic asylum?”
Noah glared at him. Matt knew he had difficulty understanding sentences with more than four or five words. “You shouldn’t make fun of me,” Noah replied at last, scowling.
“Why not? It’s the only fun I have.” Matt picked up a handful of wood and dumped it in the wheelbarrow. “Why don’t you go anywhere?” he asked. “You’re always hanging around. Don’t you have a girlfriend or anything?”
Noah sniffed. “I don’t like girls.”
“Do you prefer pigs? I think one or two of them fancy you.”
Matt leant forward to take the axe and as he did so Noah’s hand shot out, grabbing hold of him. “You don’t know,” he rasped. He was so close that Matt could smell the rotten food on his breath. His fat lips twisted in an unpleasant smile. “Sometimes Mrs Deverill lets me kill one,” he said. “A pig. I put the knife in and I listen to it squeal. We’ll do the same to you…”
“Let me go!” Matt tried to pull away but Noah was incredibly strong and his fingers were clamped on to Matt’s arm in a vice-like grip.
“You laugh at Noah. But when the end comes, it’ll be Noah who laughs at you…”
“Get off me!” Matt was afraid his bone was going to break.
Just then a car pulled into the yard. Noah released his hold and Matt fell back, cradling his arm. There were four welts where the fingers had held him. The car was a Honda Estate. The door opened and a man got out, dressed in a suit and white shirt but no tie. Matt recognized him at once. It was Stephen Mallory, the detective who had interrogated him after the Ipswich break-in.
Noah had seen him too. As Mallory looked around him, the farmhand scurried away, disappearing behind the barn. Matt walked over to the detective. He could feel a sense of excitement stirring inside him but tried not to show it. Although Mallory was partly responsible for sending him here, he was exactly the man Matt most wanted to see.
“Matthew!” The detective nodded. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look it. You’ve lost a lot of weight.”
“What are you doing here?” Matt was in no mood to talk.
“I’ve been to a conference in Harrogate. It’s not that far away so I thought I’d look in and see how you were getting on.” Mallory stretched. “I have to say, it wasn’t an easy place to find.”
“If you think it’s hard getting in, you should try getting out.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Matt glanced over Mallory’s shoulder. Mrs Deverill was somewhere inside the house. He knew she’d come into the yard at any moment and he wanted to talk before she arrived. “I was going to phone you,” he said.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to stay here. You told me that the LEAF Project is voluntary. Well, I’m volunteering myself out. I don’t care where you send me. You can lock me up in Alcatraz if you want to. But this place sucks and I want to go.”
The detective looked at him curiously. “What were you doing when I arrived?” he asked.
“What does it look like?” Matt spread his hands, showing the red calluses and blisters. “I was chopping wood.”
“Have you started school yet?”
“No.”
Mallory shook his head. “This is all wrong,” he said. “This shouldn’t be happening.”
“Then do something about it. Get me out of here.”
There was a movement in the doorway behind them. Mrs Deverill had appeared and Noah along with her. She had put on a brightly coloured apron and was holding a basket of apples. Matt wondered if they were for Mallory’s benefit, just like the suit she had worn when she went down to London.
“Don’t say anything,” Mallory muttered quietly. “Leave this to me.”
Mrs Deverill came over. She seemed surprised to see someone there. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“You don’t remember me? Detective Superintendent Mallory. We met in London. I’m with the LEAF Project.”
Mrs Deverill nodded. “Of course I remember you, Mr Mallory,” she said. “And it’s a great pleasure to see you, although it might have been a courtesy to let me know you were coming. If I recall correctly, you were supposed to give me twenty-four hours’ notice of any official visit.”
“Do you have something to hide, Mrs Deverill?”
“Of course not.” The hard eyes blinked. “You’re welcome any time.”
“The fact is that I picked up a report from the local police,” Mallory said. “Something about a false alarm at a place called Glendale Farm. Matthew was involved.”
“Oh yes.” Mrs Deverill rearranged her features into a look of concern. “Matthew and I have already spoken about that. I was very sorry that he wasted the policemen’s time. Still, in the end there was no harm done. I think we’ve both put it behind us.”
Matt wanted to speak but Mallory warned him with his eyes.
“Why isn’t Matthew at school?” he asked.
“It’s my feeling that it’s too early,” Mrs Deverill replied. “I have discussed the matter with my sister. She happens to be the head teacher. We both agree that he would be a disruptive influence. We’ll send him to school as soon as he’s ready.” Mrs Deverill smiled. She was doing her best to appear friendly. “Why don’t you come inside, Detective Superintendent? I’m not sure we should be discussing this in front of the boy. Perhaps I could offer you a
