‘Pardon, Martin?’
‘I said, what on earth was—’
‘Thanks, my friend!’ I slap my palm across his newly acquired red epaulette. ‘Your comment about honesty and bravery . . . You’ve no idea how much that means to me.’
He smiles. ‘That’s nice to hear. Thomas is a lucky man. But I bet he’ll never tell you that!’
‘I’d be amazed if he did.’
The curate chuckles. I walk beside him, moving him onwards as if my hand, resting across his shoulder, is a sign of friendship and gratitude for his remark. He picks up his enormous navy blue coat from the chair by the door.
‘You should put that on,’ I tell him. ‘It’s cold out.’
To my relief, he nods. As he dons his duffel, he leans closer to me. ‘And really,’ he lowers his voice, ‘that conversation with the policemen . . . it must have been a trial for you.’
‘You know what, Martin?’ He starts fastening the toggles and turns away. Takes a couple of paces. We reach the patio doors. The two coppers are already outside. ‘You really have no idea . . .’
*
As Maughan’s blood is drizzling into the room below his study, it seems likely he’ll be discovered sooner rather than later. I need to get away fast, but just in case I’m picked up before I can escape the area, it feels wiser not to be carrying a fully loaded 9mm PMM. I race upstairs, wipe the pistol for prints and return it to the shoebox.
I’m about to head downstairs when something makes me pause. Strange, but I’m not sure what forces me to linger. I drift into the study. The corpse doesn’t interest me. No, I feel drawn to the far end of the room, where I’d initially sat down after Maughan had expressed a willingness to talk. I walk across to the circular oakwood table that was knocked over when he attacked me. The figurine of the rearing horse lies on the floor, shattered. And amongst the fragments of alabaster, I see the item that had remained hidden in the belly of the beast for decades.
I kneel down, so I guess that for a moment it looks like my posture is one of supplication.
Perhaps it is, because there is no doubt in my mind that I’m in the presence of something preternaturally remarkable.