Shoreditch High Street train station was a ten-minute walk from the church. Blake covered the distance in four. The lines of his brow deepened with every step as he bounded up the stairs in the direction of the southbound platform. His legs weren’t the only things that were moving fast. His brain was racing. At the church, he had missed Mary by a matter of minutes and now she could be anywhere.
His head was reeling with options. Maybe she was heading for St Paul’s Cathedral, or the London Christian Mission, or even Cross Bones Graveyard. He was going crazy, weighing up the alternatives. A heavy sinking feeling of helplessness washed over him. Carla had been snatched, and her chances of being found alive were disappearing with every passing second. Maybe Mary knew something about Carla’s kidnappers? Were they the same people who had attacked her on the bridge? He knew that Enoch Hart had confided in her before his death. Finding Mary was Blake’s only chance.
He hurried onto the platform and glanced up to the overhead information display. Three minutes to the next southbound train. He would head for the London Christian Mission; maybe Mary would be looking for a bed for the night? It was his best shot.
He slumped into a seat and kneaded his forehead between his thumb and fingers. The station address system announced the impending arrival of the northbound train to Highbury and Islington. Blake’s eyes strayed over to the opposite platform. An expectant ripple passed through the assembled commuters lined up at the platform edge. As his stare drifted across the scene, a strange tingling sensation crawled up his neck. Then he saw her.
Blake didn’t move a muscle. Mary was on the opposite platform standing forward of the other commuters, her feet conspicuously beyond the yellow safety line. Her head was lowered, as if she were carrying a burden too heavy to bear. Blake squinted against the bright sun, trying to make out her face. His sixth sense started to bristle. Even from this distance, he could see something was wrong, her posture was different. She looked deflated, as if the life force had leaked out of her. Blake moved forward to get a better look. Her dog was nowhere to be seen.
For a second time, the station address system announced the train’s imminent arrival. Holding his breath, Blake watched as Mary shuffled forwards, her feet now touching the platform edge. Out of the corner of his eye, Blake could see the northbound train closing in. He blinked through the bright sunshine, his eyes riveted on Mary. On the opposite platform, Mary raised her head to the sky and genuflected.
‘Good God,’ Blake thought, ‘she’s going to kill herself.’ His stomach tightened as a sudden panic washed over him. He bolted towards the stairs, cursing as he ran. Taking two steps at time, Blake launched himself up the staircase and along the gantry connecting the two platforms. Shouldering his way, he drove a path through the commuters coming towards him. Blake hurled himself down the other side, his heart now hammering in his chest.
Mary was standing at the end of the platform next to the stairs, her eyes fixed directly in front of her, the sound of the approaching train roaring in her ears. Without the rod, the fight was over. She had been entrusted with the world’s most sacred relic, and she had fallen short. Its colossal power would be used for evil, and the world would fall into the abyss. She felt a darkness enter her soul. All was lost.
A wind whipped up at the platform edge as the train drew into the station. It was all over. Mary closed her eyes and stepped out.