Mr Petrie ran forward to try and stop Duncan plunging to his death but, by some miracle, the immobiliser had kicked in just as Jennifer Hunter turned her head towards him. While she had gone to push the boy over the ledge, her hand had turned to stone and she still held him in a vice-like grip by the scruff of his collar. Since they were connected, Duncan had also been frozen in time.
He pulled the boy’s legs back onto the roof and removed his jacket which was still being held by Miss Hunter. Pointing the immobiliser at Duncan, he unfroze the boy. “How are you? Do you know where you are? Speak to me, Duncan.”
The boy was trembling by now. “When is this going to stop? She drugged me, Mr Petrie, and she tore at my neck with a blade and then dragged me on to the roof. She kept pushing me and pushing me. I—I—I…”
He then looked at the frozen Miss Hunter. “No! Look at me, Duncan Dewar, now!” ordered Mr Petrie. He clasped the boy’s face in his hands and said again: “Look at me. Listen to me. You are fine. You are going to get through this. I now want you to go back downstairs and wait for me in The Caledonian Suite. Do you understand?” He nodded and Mr Petrie turned him around and pointed him back in the direction of the fire escape.
Walking towards Miss Hunter, he pointed the immobiliser at her and stood back. She unfroze and gasped as she looked at the jacket still in her hand. “Where is he? What happened?”
Mr Petrie moved forward: “You pushed him over the edge and I want to know why. I want to know who you are working for, Miss Hunter.”
“Come one step closer, Petrie, and I will follow the boy. I’m not afraid to die, but you are, aren’t you? You’ve been avoiding your demise for some time now, haven’t you?” she taunted.
He shrugged his shoulders: “I’ve no idea what you are babbling on about woman, but I do know you aren’t working for the school. Who is your real master? And why are you targeting Duncan Dewar?”
She threw her head back and laughed and then, looking at the jacket, dropped it by her feet. Turning towards the history master and moving a step forward, she said: “I had no interest in Dewar, well, not until you rescued him from the car crash, you old fool. I arrived at Sweetheart to watch you! That’s why I was sent here. You are the real person of interest, you and your secrets. Who gave you your immortality and who are you working for, Mr Petrie?”
He was rarely lost for words and he felt his mouth go dry as he considered that for the last fifteen years, the quiet, conscientious Miss Hunter had been actively watching him, but for whom and why? How did she know he had rescued Duncan from his parent’s car? Exactly how much did she know about his work, and was she a threat to the very existence of the Council of Anam Cara?
Since he still had the immobiliser in his hand, he thought he would reactivate it and turn her back into a living statue. As he raised his arm, she moved backwards. Catching her heel on Duncan’s jacket, she stumbled and fell over the ledge. Her blood-curdling scream only lasted a matter of seconds but it seemed to rip through the school grounds.
Mr Petrie went down through the fire escape and back into the matron’s room, past Plato House and down to the ground floor. Miss Hunter lay on the gravel motionless. A trickle of blood oozed from her ear and she was dead, concluded Mr Petrie after he failed to find a pulse. As he knelt over her body, he looked up and saw Duncan Dewar standing in the main entrance, completely traumatised by what he had seen.
Looking furtively around, he saw no one else and remembered the gardener had gone to collect the choir from Edinburgh Airport. Pulling out his mobile phone, he placed a call to Merrick using a speed dial she’d once keyed in for him. He explained briefly what had happened and, on closing the call, walked Duncan back into The Caledonian Suite.
“I didn’t want any of this to happen,” he explained to the ashen-faced schoolboy who was trembling with the shock.
"I am impressed with the way you’ve handled yourself and not many would have to cope with what you’ve endured, not in ten lifetimes.
“Let’s go back to Dulce Cor and try and make sense of recent events.” He pulled Duncan up to his feet and put a supportive arm around the boy as he led him out of the room.
Duncan faltered and shook his head looking upwards. “That’s you, isn’t it? You’re the man standing next to the king. It’s you. I know it’s you.”
They both gazed upwards to the large oil on canvas. “Yes, I do resemble one of the courtiers, admittedly, but…”
Duncan interrupted: “No more lies, please sir, no more lies.” Mr Petrie pursed his lips. He’d anticipated this day coming for many years but never dreamed it would be one of his pupils who challenged him.
“Come with me, laddie. You want the truth and you will get it, but I am not sure you will be able to handle it.”
As they stepped back outside of the building, Duncan gasped and turned his head in all directions. “She’s gone. Miss Hunter’s gone.”
Mr Petrie said: “All will be explained in good time. But first things first. We should go to the cottage because what I have to say to you should also be heard by your grandfather.”
As they entered the cottage, Gordon Buie stood up anxiously. Mr Petrie invited them to sit by the sofa since his table was still cluttered with the clock works the old horologist had dismantled and cleaned.
He brought three mugs of tea and some biscuits and after sitting down and serving his guests, he then said: “What I am about to tell you cannot go beyond these walls. It is a story spanning centuries and you will find it hard to believe but the time has come for the undiluted truth and if there is anyone left to trust in the world today, it is you Gordon and you Duncan.”
The pair sat in silence and partial disbelief as he took them through his journey from the sixteenth century to the present day. Without identifying the whereabouts or naming the Council of Anam Cara and its members, he explained how as a fourteen-year-old he had been offered immortality to work for the common good and development of Scotland and the wider world.
For each assignment or mission, he would be gifted with special powers to fight evil and make a difference to the lives of individuals without changing the course of history. “I should have read the small print,” he laughed, trying to lighten what had become a very heavy and serious story.
"Of course one of the first things I wanted to do was cure cancer, stop plague and end wars and poverty, but I very soon discovered there were limitations to my work. I could make a difference but not make changes in history. Still, as a young man, there were irresistible challenges and great achievements were made by trimming the edges of our more brutal histories.
“Then I met my beloved wife, Clara, and we were married by the time we were twenty. Those two clocks you’ve been fixing, Gordon, were wedding presents we gifted to each other. Like you, we had a fascination for clocks and came to realise the importance of time.”
He then told his incredulous audience how becoming a Guardian also had its disadvantages, too. Tears brimmed his eyes as he recounted the pain of watching his wife grow old and eventually succumb to plague and then the drops of salty water poured down his ruddy round cheeks as he spoke of watching his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren die until there was no one left to carry on the line.
But he then spoke about the positive side of being a Guardian and added: "I would never have met you, Gordon or your wonderful grandson if it weren’t for the path I’m destined to follow. I want no praise but your grandson wouldn’t be sitting here today, had I not intervened on the night his parents were murdered.
“And if you hadn’t called me when you did, he probably would not have left St Petersburg alive. There were some very powerful people, Gordon, who wanted the secrets of the microchip Duncan’s parents planted in his neck. It was indeed a desperate measure but if they were to protect the secrets of the Infinity Chip, they felt there was no other alternative.”
Gordon Buie said accusingly: “You didn’t rescue, Duncan, did you? You were protecting the Infinity Chip. That was your reason to be on the road that night.”
Mr Petrie let out a huge sigh and said: "Whatever my motives that night, I’m glad I did save his life.
“Your grandson is a remarkable young man and I want him to join me and help me in my work…if he’s interested, but now that you are equipped with the facts, you must consider this carefully over days, weeks or even months.”
Rising to his feet, the grandfather shouted: "Absolutely not! I forbid it! You’ve said yourself the gift of immortality is more of a curse and I don’t want my grandson’s life ruined before it even starts. I’m an old man and I love the life I lead but when it is time for me to go, I will not complain. You cannot meddle with God’s laws like this.
“Look at yourself Mr Petrie. Can you honestly say you’re at peace with the deal you made when you were Duncan’s age? If it was offered again, what would you tell your young self? Eh, now be honest, man.”
The two began talking ever more loudly over each other until their voices were interrupted by an even louder and more heart-breaking plea: "Stop! Stop it now! Grandfather, I love you and would never ever do anything to upset you but you cannot rule over my life. Only I can take this decision, no one else.
“Mr Petrie, I owe you a great deal. I am now losing count of the times you have saved my life. But I’m only fourteen and I have much to learn and years more to do at school and university and I have a grandfather I love dearly. Our time together is precious and I respect just about everything he says and does. But I am my own person and only I can decide. Mr Petrie, you will have my answer by tomorrow but in the meantime, let’s see if we can’t repair that clock.”
Mr Petrie smiled and walked over to Gordon extending his hand, exclaiming: “We cannot fall out. We’re Caledonians, man.” Minutes later, all three were sat around the table, in silence, cleaning each part of the Lantern clock before Gordon Buie carefully reassembled and restored it to working order. Apart from a few furtive glances exchanged, there were no words around the table as each one focussed on the job in hand, although their minds were elsewhere.
That night, Duncan lay awake, thinking about his future and the astonishing offer Mr Petrie had made. He wanted him to become a Guardian and know the full secrets of what it entailed. The idea of immortality thrilled and excited him and he was confounded by his grandfather’s hostility towards the idea. However, he knew the old man had his best interests at heart and trusted his judgement and wisdom.
As the boy tossed and turned, Mr Petrie was sitting with Salar and Merrick discussing the day’s events and the mysterious Miss Hunter. “It’s very disconcerting,” said Merrick. "We’ve ran all known tests and records to get an identity and it’s as though the woman never existed.
"All we can find from her DNA is that she is Eastern European, possibly from Chechenya. We are running more tests but I am fast running out of answers. Her DNA has the distinct J1 markers where auburn hair and blue eyes are prominent.
“So we know, more or less her place of birth, but how and where she reached adulthood is another thing. What are we trying to establish?”
Mr Petrie shook his head: “She spoke perfect English, too perfect perhaps. What we need to find out is exactly who she was working for and why. The skelwarks have downloaded all her computer files and she has a private apartment in Dumfries which is being forensically examined as we talk. What are we going to do with the body?”
Salar responded slowly and deliberately: "Well, until we find out more about her, we will hang on to it. After all, it is doubtless any relatives will come forward and report her missing. And, in the event they do, well, that in itself may help Merrick’s investigations.
"We are also experimenting with some new pathology methods but it would be premature to talk about the Lazarus Project just yet.
"We could use the Gagultâ Stone as a last resort but I really do not want to go down that route ever again; it’s neither scientific nor reliable, and resurrecting the dead always has negative consequences.
“The alarming thing is that she was embedded at the school with the express purpose of putting Mr Petrie under surveillance. Whatever intelligence she garnered, it is imperative we find it and also establish who she sent it to, why and for what purpose.”
Salar then turned to him directly and asked: “Have you decided on your apprentice, yet?” The teacher smiled, nodded and said: "As we talk now, Duncan Dewar is deliberating my offer. His grandfather, and I had to let him know for reasons I’ll explain later, is very much against the prospect of Dewar becoming a Guardian.
“Should he say yes, I will, of course, ease the boy in gently. I think he’s probably not ready to meet you or the rest of the Council just yet. The next few months will reveal if he is capable of keeping secrets.” Salar’s long slender fingers tapped on the table, as if to display some angst.
“And if he’s not right for the role, what then?”
Mr Petrie replied: “Why then we revert back to default and put him and his grandfather under the Erasure Programme and life will continue as it has always. My main concern now is to get the message out that the boy is no longer of any value and the secrets of the Infinity Chip have gone forever.”
Salar enquired about his plans for that and Mr Petrie gave an intriguing smile as he stood up to leave: “I have an idea and will let you know by tomorrow evening.”