They had seen his crimson hands and his wild eyes. The man came after him, shouting 'Hey!' Joseph dodged between Alan and the edge of the cliff. For a moment Alan thought he'd trapped him – Joseph was forced to teeter on the very edge, which began at once to crumble – then Joseph fled crabwise toward the house. Let him get there, let Anna see what he'd become, then perhaps she'd appreciate her father. .. Horrified by his own thoughts, Alan raced after Joseph, trying to head him off.
The plump woman had seen the carcass in the grass. 'Oh, the swine!' she cried, thrusting her shoulder-bag at the elder of the children and giving them a shove toward the family car. Then she joined the chase. Though her flesh quivered wherever it bulged out of her swimsuit, she was as fast as any of them and a good deal more furious.
Alan had managed to keep Joseph away from the house. Joseph went lurching toward the pillbox, waving his hands frantically, scattering drops of blood. Alan noticed he was wiping his hands down his coat. Perhaps he felt he would be rid of his guilt if he got rid of the blood. Now he was struggling out of the smeared coat, tearing off the buttons. For the first time Alan saw what he wore underneath: trousers and braces, but nothing else.
Joseph was nearly at the pillbox. Perhaps they could trap him in there. Alan's gesture to the couple said as much. The man dodged behind the building to head Joseph off, Alan ran straight at him. The woman was running at him too, her face red with exertion and fury. They would almost certainly have caught him if she hadn't turned fastidiously aside to avoid treading on the smeared coat. Joseph fled toward the road, stretching out his hands on either side of him as far as they would go, as if he wished they would vanish, as if he could forget they were there.
He stopped before he reached the road. The police were waiting for him, the red-faced policeman and a younger man with a crew-cut. The sight of them seemed to paralyse Joseph, for they almost reached him before he turned and tried to flee. The young man brought him down with a rugby tackle. The dry earth beneath the parched grass must have knocked all the breath out of him. Even so, the young policeman grabbed his arms and twisted them viciously up his naked back.
Alan found the capture rather sordid and unpleasant. No doubt in reality such things always were. The older policeman seemed embarrassed too. 'All right, lad, we've got him now. Go easy on him.'
'Go easy on him?' the plump woman cried. 'Have you seen what he did to that poor dumb animal? Give him to me, I'll show you how to treat him.'
'It's all right, Freda,' her husband said, glancing warily at the police. 'They know their job. We'd best be getting back to the children.'
After a while she allowed herself to be coaxed away. Alan led the older policeman to the remains of the goat, where flies were already gathering. To his surprise he'd begun to like the man, who had proved to be human after all. 'My wife won't have to see this, will she?' he said.
'She was the one who called us, you know.' But he looked sickened himself. 'Did you see him in the act? Well, then I think we can let her off.'
Alan had to retreat from the smell of blood before he could describe what he had seen. The young policeman was hauling Joseph to his feet, still with his arms twisted behind him, and Alan's testimony seemed redundant; the evidence was there on Joseph's hands, and dribbling from his mouth. The young policeman marched him forward and forced him to stoop to the carcass, into the stench of blood. 'Did you do this?' he shouted.
Joseph's moan was wordless, but there was no mistaking the sound of guilt. The young policeman dragged him backward, wrenching his arms further up between his shoulders. Alan felt sorry for Joseph, but helpless to intervene. Joseph surely couldn't have known what he was doing. But what could have changed him so much and so suddenly, to make him act that way?
All at once Joseph gazed into his eyes with an expression both pleading and accusing. Alan felt inexplicably afraid of what he might say. Nothing, probably, for he was spitting out blood, and the young policeman had already begun to drag him off to the police van. But Joseph struggled back toward Alan. 'He made Joseph do it,' he said thickly. 'He brought it here.'
'Don't you be telling lies,' the young policeman said, jerking Joseph's arms. 'Nobody made you do it but yourself. And this gentleman never brought the goat here, either. You're loony, that's what you are, but that won't help you.'
He forced Joseph to stumble toward the road. Joseph stared back over his shoulder, crying, 'He brought it here!' until his captor shoved him into the back of the van.
Alan felt dizzy with guilt, but the red-faced policeman was apologetic. 'I may have to bother you again,' he said, 'but I hope there won't be any need.'
When the police had taken Joseph away, Alan stood for a while at the edge of the cliff. The sea glittered jaggedly, the pebbles on the beach looked like stubble in brown flesh. Another police van arrived to collect the carcass. It was undoubtedly their most sensational case for years. Suddenly he didn't want to be alone, though he wasn't sure if he should tell Liz what he felt, or even if he could. He hurried back to the house.
Liz was waiting for him in the back doorway. She must have persuaded Anna to stay alone in the playroom for a while. 'I'm sorry I behaved as if you were imagining things,' he said at once. 'It must have been Joseph all the time. At least it's over now.'
'I suppose so.' She seemed understandably depressed, yet relieved. He held her for a while, but that reminded him that he wasn't telling her the whole story. Telling her might upset her for no reason; and anyway, he knew what he had to do. Eventually she said, 'Maybe I shouldn't leave Anna by herself too long,' and he was able to go up to his workroom.
He sat staring out of the window at the cliff-top, at the reddened patch of grass where the goat had lain. He was right, he knew. He'd known what Joseph was going to say even before he spoke. It explained so much – Anna's apparently irrational fear, his own glimpse on the video-cassette, perhaps even the things Liz had seen: he no longer knew how real they'd been, and it didn't seem to matter. Above all, it explained the change in Joseph, and that showed how serious the situation was. Thank God, he knew what to do.
He made three phone calls quickly. His agent was booked up for the rest of the week, but Teddy the Editor was free. It wouldn't have mattered if he hadn't been, but he was a good excuse, a means of making things look more natural to Liz. Alan made one more call, then he went downstairs to her. 'Shall we take Anna to the hotel for dinner?' he said.
'To celebrate, you mean?'
'Not quite that.' Liz had immediately regretted her sarcasm. 'I just thought it would take the pressure off you a bit,' he said.
'God knows I need that. All right, let's.' Then she looked suspiciously at him. 'Are you trying to soften me up for something?'
He was glad she thought so; that way she wouldn't realize that what he really wanted was to get all three of them out of the house for a while, away from whatever was there. 'Well, Teddy wants me to go into London and have lunch with him tomorrow. You don't mind, do you? You've got your at-home with the girls in the afternoon.'
'Do you have to go? Yes, all right, I know you do. I only hope I can persuade Anna that everything's all right without mentioning Joseph.'
'I'm sure you will. I'll try not to be back too late.'
Seeing that she'd accepted the excuse, he was able to say, casually, 'And I'll take that African thing with me.'
Thirteen
That night Alan couldn't sleep. Either the heat was tropical, or he'd had too much to drink at the hotel. Long after Liz had fallen asleep he lay awake beside her, sweating and prickly, bothered by the vague idea that there was something he had to do. 'All right,' he found himself muttering at the dark, Til do it, I'm going to do it tomorrow.' But still his compulsion wasn't satisfied; it kept jerking him back from the edge of sleep, stranding him in the rumbling seaside dark with fragments of the day – Joseph stumbling backward as the raw intestine
