‘When will the meeting be over?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know. Can I take a—?’
‘I’ll call back,’ Merrily said, the mobile starting to chime at her elbow.
‘It’s Adam Eastgate, Merrily. About that call I warned you to expect.’
‘It hasn’t happened yet.’
‘Well, no. As it turns out, this is it.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I’ve been asked to make the call rather than somebody whose voice you wouldn’t recognize. Bottom line, Merrily, I have to ask you if you ever do any work … privately, like.’
‘
‘You know what I’m saying.’
‘Independently of the Diocese?’
‘And on a confidential basis.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like the service in the Master House. Paul Gray says he’ll go along with it, though perhaps I’m not the best person to make an approach to Mr Gwilym.’
‘You want me to go ahead, despite the Bishop.’
‘It’s not seen as a confrontational thing. Just something we feel should take place, and if it’s done quietly there won’t be any of the problems Bernard was afraid of.’
‘Who else would be there?’
‘Me.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘It wouldn’t be wise for there to be … anyone else.’
‘This is a tough one, Adam.’
‘Aye. I can see that.’
‘If I did it,’ Merrily said, ‘and it got out … it could get me in a lot of trouble.’
Because there was a difference here. If she just went ahead with it on her own, it would be merely a small rebellion, out of conscience.
‘It won’t get out, Merrily. Nobody wants it to get out.’
‘And the idea’s been approved, has it, at the highest level?’
‘I referred it up. The suggestion came back.’
‘From?’
‘Just from higher up.’
‘When did they have in mind?’
‘Soon as possible. Soon as you can get the people together. What’s the earliest, do you think?’
‘I suppose …’ Merrily thought about it, counting days. ‘I suppose the earliest might be the day after tomorrow. That would be … Friday?’
She looked at the calendar and her gaze caught the sermon pad, propped up now against the computer, open to the list of names: PIERRE MARKHAM … MICKEY SHARPE … SIGGI—?
‘That would be Friday the twelfth?’ Adam Eastgate said. ‘I’m writing it down.’
MAT PHOBE?
‘Or Saturday, I suppose,’ Merrily said.
‘The thirteenth.’
It was like one of those damn signposts being erected in the scullery, hammered into the floor in front of the desk.
MAT PHOBE?
Something about that name. Not a real name, obviously.
‘Think about it and let me know early tomorrow,’ Adam Eastgate said. ‘OK?’
‘OK. I will.’ Her stare travelling up and down the names, alighting on—
SYCHARTH????
‘Adam, tell me something.’
‘If I can.’
‘The threats received by the Duchy—’
‘Oh, now—’
‘It’ll go no further, I promise. Come on. Someone’s given you the green light to trust me.’
‘Where did you get this?’
‘From Jonathan Long.’
Which she had, in a way.
‘Wales,’ Merrily said. ‘He was talking about Wales.’
‘Aw, look, it was rubbish, Merrily. They decided it was all complete rubbish. A joke.’
‘What sort of threats were they? Please. It’s important.’
‘I have to refer these things up, you know? They have to be looked into. Once we got them translated … the grammar wasn’t even right, apparently. I can’t tell you any more.’
‘OK. Thanks.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’ll be in touch,’ Merrily said, going up the list from the bottom as she clicked off.
CROWLEY.
DE MOLAY
MAT PHOBE?
Printing that last one out again, separating the letters.
MAT PHOBE
Then, in slight disbelief, she began to pick out individual letters, writing them down in a different order. Very lightly, so that it was almost a ghost of a word. As if she couldn’t bear to give it more solidity …
BAPHOMET
42
Contex
Too early to panic.
It couldn’t happen. Not on a mild autumnal Wednesday afternoon in Tanworth-in-Arden, in Middle England.
And he must have done this a couple of times before — distinctly remembering leaving his car in a particular place when it was actually somewhere else. It had definitely happened before.
If never with nearly four thousand pounds’ worth of kit in the back, not including the Boswell guitar which was as close to priceless as anything he’d ever possessed.
Who was he trying to fool?
Lol stood in the road, in the empty space between two vividly green-gold beech trees. Standing exactly where he remembered parking the truck … and parking it not too confidently, because the Animal was so much longer than his old car.
