‘That’s really terrific.’ Amiss clutched his left temple. ‘Sholto’s a saint. There isn’t a shred of evidence to link those mad Trots in Leadbetter’s basement with the Lords murders. Jim says your antiterrorist boys are out of ideas and no one has a clue who the Avengers are. So it’s eight thousand, four hundred and sixty-seven suspects down and none to go. What are you going to do today? Announce it was mass suicide?’
‘Probably go through all the files all over again looking for something we’ve missed. The only bright spot in all of this is that no one’s tried to frame the Trots for what they didn’t do just because we’d like them to be guilty—which of course is why the press is baying for our blood.’
‘Nasty this morning, is it?’
Pooley winced. ‘They talk about us like you shouldn’t talk about a dog. Or even an animal activist. I’ll be in touch.’
***
‘For a man who’s been to and from the States in less than twenty-four hours, you’re looking pretty good, Ellis. It must be all that healthy living. And thanks for your report. Disappointing, but very good.’
Pooley flushed with pleasure.
‘Thank you, sir. Have you a minute?’
‘Yes. I’m just contemplating how to explain to the Commissioner that I’m completely out of ideas.’
‘I was just leafing through the file on Brother Francis, and I remembered what Robert had said about him and Plutarch, and I still can’t work out why he was carting a tabernacle around the place.’
‘A tabernacle? I didn’t hear that bit of the story—all I heard was about Plutarch and the Lord Chancellor. Is there more?’
‘She crashed into Brother Francis, and he dropped a suitcase which turned out to have a tabernacle in it. And I just can’t work out why.’
Milton thought for a few moments and then shrugged. ‘Why not? Let’s go on a wild tabernacle chase. Get Brother Francis’ London address, order a car, and we’ll leave in fifteen minutes.’
***
Brother Francis’ London headquarters was a modest flat in a small terraced house in Highgate. He looked so distressed when he answered the door that, as they sat down in his spartan living room on the hard chairs, Milton, to put him at his ease, said, ‘Bit far out for you, this, Brother, isn’t it?’
‘Ah, yes, Superintendent, but it has the incomparable blessing of being beside Highgate cemetery.’
Milton could remember only one thing about Highgate cemetery. ‘Do I gather you are an admirer of Karl Marx?’
Brother Francis looked shocked. ‘How could you think I could admire such an enemy of godliness? No, no. The cemetery enables me to be in touch with the eternal verities through musings on the afterlife. For instance, every morning, when I walk there, I pass a tombstone which says:
As you pass by, so once was I,
As I am now, so you will be,
Therefore, prepare for eternity.
‘It is a beautiful piece of poetry.’ He simpered. ‘I would have been proud to have written it. And I like to reflect on how true it is. But also the cemetery is where I meet my little friends.’
‘Ah, yes. Animals, no doubt.’
‘Squirrels particularly. At this time of the year, I bring them nuts and talk to them. I call them by their names and they come. You can tell them apart, you know. You look surprised, but I assure you it’s true, for they all have their own little winning ways and funny habits and charming personalities. It is a privilege to be among them. And among the little birdies, too.’
Milton could not think of any answer to this, so he went straight to the point. ‘I’m sorry to break in on you with no notice, but I wanted to know why you were removing a tabernacle from the House of Lords.’
‘It’s mine.’
‘Oh, I’m not disputing that. It just seems odd, and you’ll understand that in the present climate we have to investigate anything odd.’
‘I thought I’d take it home with me. I no longer feel I can say Mass in a place where so many terrible things have been done.’
‘But surely that sad place needs the blessing of God now more than ever before?’ Milton felt proud of himself for producing such an unctuous statement without laughing.
Brother Francis wriggled. ‘Ah yes. You may be right and I may have been hasty. But I felt the urge to bring this holy object to my little home where I could commune with God more privately.’
‘Where used it to be before? In the Lords, I mean.’
‘In my little room.’
‘May I see it, sir?’
‘Yes, I’ll bring it in.’
‘No, no. You don’t want to carry something as heavy as that around unnecessarily. I’ll come and look.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t.’
But Milton was already on his feet and following Pooley out of the room. ‘In here, sir?’ He walked into a bedroom containing only a narrow iron bed and a clothes rail on which were hung scarlet parliamentary robes, a brown woollen habit, and a long overcoat. Behind him Brother Francis was bleating, ‘No, please.’
‘In here, sir,’ called Pooley. Milton joined Pooley at the door of what proved to be the religious sanctum.
‘Please, it’s sacred.’
‘Don’t worry, Brother. Nothing will be harmed.’ Milton’s glance took in the vestments, the monstrance and tabernacle on the altar and the picture of St Francis on the wall with a sparrow in his hand. ‘Would you mind opening the tabernacle, Brother?’
Unhappily, Brother Francis walked over, genuflected before the tabernacle and opened the door to reveal a few wafers.
‘Very well, Brother. Thank you. Sorry to have disturbed you.’
‘Sir!’ Pooley called from the kitchen. ‘There’s another one here.’
The box was lying on the draining board, front downwards, with a bottle of disinfectant beside it. ‘I’m a bit puzzled, Brother. Could you explain to me why you brought the tabernacle home when you already had one here?’
‘I was going to take this one back to the Sanctuary.’
‘Why are you disinfecting it?’
‘Hygiene.’
No amount of coaxing could move him from this explanation.
‘I’ll have to ask you to let me take it for testing, Brother.’
‘You can’t do that. It’s consecrated.’
‘If consecration doesn’t stop it being disinfected, I’m sure it won’t stop it undergoing laboratory tests. But if you wish, you may deconsecrate it and then reconsecrate it once we have finished. On a murder enquiry, inconvenience is, I’m afraid, inevitable. Now, we’ll wait for you in your living room while you do whatever is necessary, and I’ll write you a receipt.’
‘That was,’ said Milton, as Pooley put the tabernacle in the boot, ‘one of the oddest things I’ve ever committed to paper. “I acknowledge receipt of one tabernacle, silver and gold.” What made you think of the kitchen? Just being thorough?’
‘No. But I remembered Robert had said it was metal. The one in his chapel was mainly marble.’
‘Back to the Yard, please, Donoghue. Well done, Ellis. I’m glad you’re thinking so clearly. I have come to feel very addled, with so many lunatics coming at me from all directions. I don’t even know why I confiscated the tabernacle, except that I couldn’t think what else to do. So what do you think he might have been transporting in it, if anything? Drugs?’
‘Or explosives. I think it’s big enough to be able to store twenty antipersonnel mines.’
‘Good God, what an interesting thought. We’ll get the lab to do a rush job and send a team of explosives people and fingerprint experts around to Brother Francis’ flat and to his room at the Lords immediately.’
***
‘Nothing, sir.’ Pooley was dejected. ‘There are no traces of anything in the tabernacle. But the lab said that since the mines were coated in plastic, they wouldn’t leave any traces anyway.’
‘Fingerprints?’
‘Well, there were quite a few, but they were probably bona fide visitors. What I was really hoping for was a breakthrough like Jerry Dolamore’s prints on the tabernacle.’
‘Unlike Brother Francis, I don’t believe in miracles. But it was worth a try. Now send it back to him.’
***
‘Yes, Jim. What?’
‘Wake up, Robert. Something’s happened and you’d better let Jack know.’
‘What?’
‘Stormerod’s been shot.’
‘Is he dead?’
‘No. The first report is highly encouraging. He’s said to be slightly injured and a bit shocked but otherwise fine.’
‘Where was he shot?’
‘The doctors haven’t said.’
‘I mean geographically.’
‘He was riding from his Buttermere estate to Carlisle station to catch the six-thirty train, with his chauffeur and horsebox following behind, when he suddenly fell off his horse. By the time the chauffeur had established he was alive, though stunned, and learned that he thought he’d been shot, his priority was to rush to the house and ring for an ambulance. By the time the police came, there was no sign of a sniper. Not that one would be easy to find in an estate that size. Whoever it was could have been over the hills and far away.’
‘Wasn’t he guarded?’
‘No. Didn’t you know? All the protection teams were withdrawn a few days ago. There just weren’t the resources. I’ll press for putting at least a few back now to look after Stormerod, Deptford, and Jack.’
‘So you think it was activists?’
‘I don’t think anything. It could have been a poacher for all I know. I’ll be back to you when I do.’
***
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ said the baroness. ‘In fact, this is, if I’m not mistaken, Bertie’s third life. He seems as resilient as one of our feline friends, I’m happy to say. Now, I’ll just ring his house and see when he’s going to turn up here. I think it’s time we had a chat.’
‘There’ll be quite a lot of people in the queue, you know.’
‘We’ll just jump it,’ she said airily.
She was back on the phone within five minutes. ‘He’s catching the next train. Say’s he’s feeling fine. It was a bullet all right. Deflected, would you believe, by his passport, which was in his left breast pocket. So instead of going through his heart, the bullet bounced off and his only injuries were slight grazes and a few bruises that he got from falling off the horse. He says he’s in the pink, so I’ve fixed a meeting at my club for six. He should be out of the clutches of the constabulary by then, and we can get the lowdown. In the meantime, contemplate the evidence. It’s time we put an end to all this.’
‘Club? Which one? The University Women’s?’
‘Certainly not. Too respectable for me. It’s the one where you worked—ffeatherstonehaughs.’
‘I didn’t know you were a member of that.’
‘They made me an honorary member recently. Now I must be off. See you at six.’
‘Jack!’
‘What?’
‘Please take care. If they’ve taken to attacking prohunters singly, you’re a pretty tempting target.’
‘Not to say large.’ She laughed. ‘Oh yes, yes, yes. I’ll keep an eye out.’