‘Dicey.
Very
dicey. And, officially, I should have said no.’
‘Teddy Murray doesn’t seem too enthusiastic either.’
The Bishop smiled through the dull sheen of sweat.
‘You really
don’t
know the half of it, do you?’
Mrs Morningwood was feeling her throat through the silk scarf. Her throat where the marks were.
Jane said, ‘You look like Mum looked … when she came out of that house.’
Roscoe looked up at Mrs Morningwood, whimpering. She clasped his head to her lower thigh.
‘I’m going to make some tea,’ Jane said. ‘Or can I get you a brandy?’
‘What house?’
‘Well, the Master House.’ Jane filled the kettle. ‘You remember … No, you don’t, you’d gone, you’d left us to it. You said Roscoe wouldn’t go in. You said you always trusted the dog.’
‘I do.’
Mrs Morningwood looked down at Roscoe; he was panting. It was like they were tuned to the same wavelength, the woman and the dog, picking up messages that nobody else could hear.
‘Jane, will you tell me about this?’
‘I’m sorry, I thought Mum must’ve told you. Maybe I should keep quiet.’
‘Up to you, Jane.’
Jane walked to the window, looking out at the orchard, at the last red apples near the tops of the highest trees.
‘She looked like death. Like she’d just seen … I dunno, Lol in a porno video or something.’ Jane turned to face Mrs Morningwood. ‘She always insists she’s not psychic, maybe because she doesn’t like to believe anyone else is.’
‘Did she tell you what happened?’
‘Oh yeah. It was when she found the green man. Which is actually Baphomet. But it’s the same thing – Baphomet, Pan, the green man … the male thing in nature.’
‘This is in the church?’
‘No, no …. in the house.’
‘That’s what I thought you meant.’
‘It’s in the fireplace. Behind the inglenook. Someone’s put a green man, or Baphomet, on the wall inside the inglenook where nobody would normally see it. You didn’t know about it?’
‘Is it old?’
‘Probably not. Could be something to do with whatever stuff was going on there back in the 1970s. But then it might be old – might be original Templar. Might’ve been brought from somewhere else at some stage. Dunno, really.’
‘And your mother found it disturbing.’
‘You ask her now, she’ll probably deny it. Are you all right, Mrs Morningwood?’
‘No.’ Mrs Morningwood sat down. ‘No, I don’t think I am.’
‘You want me to call the doc or something?’
‘Don’t be silly.’ She looked up. ‘Do you think Merrily would mind if I borrowed her car? I’d bring it back tonight.’
‘I’d have to ask. You might not be insured.’
‘In that case … you can drive, can’t you Jane?’
‘Sure.’
‘You see, I came in your mother’s car. Mine’s at home. Your mother’s gone with …’
‘Lol. In his truck.’
‘Would it be possible to take me home? Just for a few minutes, so I can collect some medication.’
‘Herbs?’
‘Won’t take me long, darling, I know what I’m looking for. I suppose I could phone for a taxi …’
Herbs? No way.
‘No,’ Jane said. ‘No, it’s OK. I’ll get the keys.’
‘Good. I can pick up my Jeep.’
‘Oh.’
This would mean she’d have to drive back on her own, on her provisional licence.
‘OK,’ Jane said.
She’d need to get the L-plates off before Mrs Morningwood spotted them.
Because, whatever this was about, it was not about herbs.
‘T
EN COVER IT
?’ Jimmy Hayter said.
Lol stared at him. It had started to rain again. Big spots on Hayter’s buttermilk Armani.
‘I could go to twelve, Robinson. Cash, by tonight. Leave it in an envelope for you, at the desk in there.’
‘Twelve what?’
‘Twelve K.’
‘Perhaps you could explain what you’re talking about, Jimmy.’
‘I heard you had a guitar irreparably damaged.’
‘Wow,’ Lol said. ‘It’s amazing how quickly word gets out.’
‘I’ve always liked to help underprivileged musicians.’
‘So I’ve noticed.’
‘Twelve, and you and your priest leave me alone. And you
don’t
lean on my fucking Jag.’
Lol didn’t move.
‘Jimmy, you are … I think what our friends over the ocean would call
a piece of work
.’
‘All right,’ Hayter said. ‘You tell me what you want.’
‘I’ll be reasonable about it. Four grand in an envelope and a bit of honesty.’
‘I could …’ Hayter’s face might have darkened, or it could have been the sky. ‘I don’t think I need to spell out what damage I could do to your … what you laughably call a career.’
‘Well …’ Lol shook his head, sighing. ‘I mean that’s just the point, isn’t it? I
don’t
call it a career, and you already
have
spelled it out. Or
your … employee, with whatever destructive implement he carries around with him. And the thing is—’
‘Whoever did that … might have gone further than instructed,’ Hayter said.
‘—Thing is, I’m really not anywhere near significant enough to be damaged by somebody with your level of connections. I mean, what are you going to do … like, sabotage the renewal of my six-album contract with the Sony Corporation?’
‘Maybe he concentrated on the wrong guitar.’
Hayter turned away, shoulders hunched against the rain which had drained the colour out of the city below them, making the Cathedral spectral. Then he turned back.
‘We haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘Who?’
‘Me and …’ Hayter jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards The Centurion ‘… him.’
‘Mr Gwilym. Who you haven’t seen in thirty years.’
‘Actually, I hadn’t,’ Hayter said. ‘Not until today.’
‘So what … I mean, why the reunion? Can’t be the anniversary of the ritual abuse of Mary Roberts, surely?’
Lol, the wet soaking through to his chest, suddenly felt this kind of transcendent exhilaration. Somehow, he had the bastard.
‘It wasn’t like that,’ Hayter said.
‘So tell me what it
was
like.’
‘You want to come inside?’
‘Jimmy, do I
look
stupid?’
‘I’m getting wet.’
‘Rain’s healthy. Start with Mat Phobe. Move the letters around and it becomes Baphomet. That’s this head thing the Templars are supposed to have worshipped. And also what Crowley called himself, when he was doing sex magic with the OTO.’
‘Yeah, we did our share of that. Mat had this obscure book, with the rituals of the OTO. You needed women. Or men would do, in some cases, but we never went there, like I said. Unlike some of the Templars, apparently.’
‘What happened to Mary?’
‘I’ve told you.’
‘No, you haven’t.’
‘I told you I went to London to meet my old man.’ Hayter’s eyes were half-screened by his heavy hair. ‘And Gwilym went home to
his
old man’s farm. And when we got back, she’d gone.’
‘Gone where?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘So when you and Gwilym had left the premises, who was left?’ Mickey what’s-his-name and … Mat Phobe?’
‘No.’ Hayter wiped the air with both hands. ‘That’s absolutely as far as I go, Robinson.’
‘You haven’t even explained why you’re here yet.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘What about the four grand? I could after all …’ Lol started to laugh, hair dripping, leaning back over the bonnet of Hayter’s Jag ‘… seriously damage you.’
‘It’ll be on the desk by tonight.’
‘Hey, I’m not going in
there
. Especially at night.’
Hayter started to walk away, then turned. ‘HSBC. The bank?’
‘Centre of town?’
‘With your name on it. One hour. You’ll need some ID.’
Hayter walked back to The Centurion, quickly, through the rain.
M
ERRILY SPOTTED THE
Animal, a serious presence in the Broad Street traffic, and ran out across the cathedral green as Lol pulled in on the yellow lines. Holding on to his left arm as she climbed in from the running board.
‘God, you’re soaked!’
‘Where’s Huw?’
‘Left ages ago.’ Merrily hauled the passenger door shut. ‘You OK?’ Checking him out, peering into his face as he waited for a gap in the traffic. ‘You saw him?’
‘Hayter? Yes.’
‘And?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘He admits it was him?’
‘Not exactly, but … Where’re we going?’
‘Somewhere we can talk,’ Merrily said. ‘I’m trying to come to terms with something that … I don’t quite know what it means, but it’s disturbing.’
‘Hayter’s worried. He’s floundering.’
‘So he bloody should be.’
‘He offered me ten thousand for the damage to the Boswell.’
‘What, just now?’
‘He implied that the guy who did it overreacted. It must’ve happened very quickly. He was still thinking I was trying to blackmail him, told his guy to follow me. Guy rings him from Tanworth after I’ve left the truck to go into the churchyard. Hayter – some kind of knee-jerk thing – tells him what to do to show me what I’m taking on.’
‘How did he find out you’re on the level?’
‘I’m thinking two possibilities.’ Lol turned left into Bridge Street, traffic congealing around them. ‘Maybe he called Prof back, in a rage, and Prof explained the situation. Or he talked to Gwilym on the phone and Gwilym did some checks.’
‘What did you do … about the money?’
‘Told him to make it four grand and give me some honest answers. We reached the same point, where Mary disappears, then he clammed up. He says the money will be at HSBC in an hour. Unless he already has some arrangement with them, I don’t know how he’s going to do that, so maybe he was just lying, to get rid of me.’
‘But he and Gwilym are together?’
‘For the first time, he insists, since Garway. What does that suggest?’
‘I may
just
be able to tell you in a few minutes.’
Lol drove down to the car park near the swimming pool. By the time he’d found a space big enough for the Animal, Merrily had the mobile out, was consulting its index of numbers.
‘I just want to try something, see what reaction I get.’
She put the call through. The rain had stopped again but the sky was smoky over the hills.
‘Good afternoon,’ Beverley Murray said professionally. ‘This is The Ridge.’
‘Beverley, it’s Merrily Watkins. Sorry to bother you. Don’t suppose Teddy’s around?’
‘Oh. Merrily … haven’t you seen him? He was supposed to be calling at your place with the bags you left behind.’
‘Oh, well, actually I’m not at home. Perhaps he’s left them somewhere.’ Unlikely that Mrs Morningwood would have answered the door, especially to someone from Garway. ‘It was very kind of him, but there was really no need, I’ll be back there, probably tomorrow. In fact …’
She told Beverley she’d only just found out that the special service for the Templar anniversary was tomorrow, the twelfth, rather than Saturday, the thirteenth.
‘Oh … yes, that’s … There
has
been a change of plan, I think.’
‘Only, I know Teddy was feeling a bit apprehensive about it, and I was
thinking there was nothing I could do because I’ve got this wedding on Saturday … but, of course, Friday’s not a problem.’
‘Oh … Well, I think …’
‘And obviously I’ve learned a lot about the Templars in the past few days. So, you know, I’d be happy to take it off his hands …’
‘Merrily, I—’
‘So, do you know what time it is? That’s all I wanted to know, really. I’ll come up and meet him an hour or so before and we’ll work it out.’
A silence. Merrily watched rain clouds tangling in the rust-coloured sky over Dinedor Hill.
Beverley said, ‘Can I call you back about this, Merrily?’
‘Sure.’
Merrily clicked off, sank down in the seat.
‘I wasn’t getting the right messages. From Beverley.’
‘This is the wife of the guy who’s standing in as vicar at Garway.’
‘Mmm, they’re waiting for a new team minister. Beverley was telling me how stressed out Teddy was and how it would be bad for him to get involved in any exorcism, and that he didn’t really want to do a service to commemorate the seven hundredth anniversary of the suppression of the Templars. Which, of course, led to all kinds of torture and burnings at the stake, for which the Roman Catholic Church is now being asked to issue a formal apology.’
‘By whom?’
‘Some neo-Templar groups. The Vatican won’t authorize an apology, of course, because the Templars are still very iffy. The accusations may, at least in part, be true. No religious organization is totally clean.’
‘Certainly not one consisting largely of trained killers.’
‘There is that.’
‘You really want to do this service?’
‘No way. I was just seeing what reaction I got. The situation is that the C of E didn’t want to be involved, but Teddy said a lot of people had been pushing for something at Garway. What he didn’t say is that this was going to be a
Masonic
service.’
‘Oh …’
‘Reluctantly approved, possibly under pressure, by Bernie and conducted – something else Teddy didn’t say – by a Mason.’
Merrily watched a trans-Euro container lorry coming off Greyfriars Bridge inside a grey haze, thinking maybe she knew this city no better than its driver.
‘Teddy Murray, it seems, has been on the square for many, many years. Which opens up so many scary possibilities that I don’t know where to start.’
‘Suggests a special relatonship with Gwilym.’
‘Mmm. And it means he’s been extremely parsimonious with the truth in his various conversations with me. The guy’s always so vague and far-back. Butter wouldn’t melt. She said he’d actually been to the vicarage this afternoon.’
‘Your vicarage?’
‘Ostensibly to bring my bags back. Unlikely. It suggests he wants to talk about something. I’ll see if …’
Merrily rang home. No answer. Jane must be back by now, so she left a message saying she could be late, was reachable on the mobile, if Jane could see her way to calling.